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  “And, anytime you’re home.” He jiggled the doorknob. “Lock up.”

  “Got it.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  I LOCKED UP LIKE Malone recommended. I have to tell you, Heidi’s disappearance had really shaken me. Like Jake’s murder, broad daylight and yet no one had seen anything.

  I felt terrible I’d been too late to keep Heidi from being kidnapped, and I felt helpless that there was nothing I could do to at this point to help find her. In truth, there was really nothing I could do to help figure out who had killed Jake or to find out where Cash was. I could only take care of Toria and hope Cash would come back soon and help sort everything out now that he knew about Jake.

  I couldn’t bear to be doing nothing. I looked at my list. No more clients for the day. I’d crossed off almost every item. Almost. There were two tasks left undone. One was to call my cousin, Melinda. This sure as heck was not the day for making that phone call. I needed a clear head and calm emotions. However, I didn’t look forward to the other task either.

  Don Furry from the ARL had called me and asked for a favor. It seems Cheeky, the basset hound that Wayne (Mr. Cutting Hedge) had planned to adopt, had belatedly been claimed by his owners.

  It is really unusual for that to happen after a dog or cat has been at the shelter long enough to be available for adoption, but the couple who owned him had left him in the care of a family member, who had let him get out and then had not been able to find him. The nephew had looked around the neighborhood but hadn’t thought to contact City Animal Control or the Laguna Beach Animal Shelter.

  Wayne would be very disappointed, but I was sure we could find another dog for him. He hadn’t been interested in the Labrador that Chelley had talked to him about because he had had his heart set on a basset hound. I knew there was a basset hound rescue group in San Diego. Maybe if I got in in touch with them, we could see if we could find a good match for Wayne through them.

  Don had asked if I would be willing to let the poor guy know. He couldn’t leave because they were short-handed and had tried to call but didn’t want to just leave Wayne a message with the news. Don feared Wayne might not take it well, and I had to agree, especially after what he’d told me about losing his wife. It was probably best to deliver the news in person. Maybe, if he gave me an opening, I might be able to slip in some grief-counseling information.

  I called and talked to the basset hound rescue group and jotted down some information about their process. It sounded like it might be a good solution to help Wayne get a dog that would be what he was looking for, and maybe knowing this wasn’t a dead end would help him handle the bad news.

  I grabbed my cell phone and my bag and tucked the note where I’d written the info about the San Diego rescue group in my purse.

  Just as I was about to leave, my phone rang.

  It was Detective Malone.

  “Caro, I need your help.” I guess we were back to first names.

  “Wait a minute. Can you repeat that?” I smiled. I wasn’t letting him off the hook that easy. “There seems to be something wrong with my phone. I thought I heard you say you needed my help.”

  “Point taken.” I could picture his tightened jaw. “Listen, I’ve heard from Cash.”

  “Oh, thank God.” I couldn’t quite explain my relief, but I truly felt Cash making contact was good news. Now, there would at least be some answers.

  “He says he and Jake had some files they kept on their office computer about threats they’d received.”

  “Threats?”

  “Apparently they received threats on a regular basis, but didn’t take them seriously.”

  “That should help figure out if Jake’s murderer is someone who had something against them, right? Like Brody Patton?”

  “Graham Cash is on his way back to Laguna Beach and will go through them in person with us, but in the meantime with Heidi missing, he said we should go ahead and take a look.”

  “Great. Maybe something there will lead you to Heidi.”

  “Yeah, except Cash was paranoid about the password to the computer. Wouldn’t give it to me over the phone. Said it was an extremely simple encryption letter-number replacement formula. The love of his life and then her name spelled out in numbers. He said if we needed help to call you.”

  “How long did you try before you called me?”

  “Not long.”

  I’d bet longer than they should have.

  “We used H-E-I-D-I 8-5-9-4-9 and it was a no go. We’ve tried Sussman with the same formula and we still can’t get in.” I could hear the frustration in his voice.

  “You’re using the wrong starting place.” I smiled, knowing what Cash had used. “The love of his life is spelled T-O-R-I-A.”

  “The cat?” I could hear him mutter the letters.

  “Yes.”

  “Try T-O-R-I-A,” he called to whoever was there with him. There was a pause. “And then, 20-15-18-9-1.” I figured it was probably Joann, the technician who’d reviewed the videos with me.

  “Got it.” I could hear a female voice answer. “We’re in.”

  “Thanks, Caro.” Malone’s relief was evident.

  You’re wel—” But I was talking to air; he was gone.

  “You’re welcome,” I said to the disconnected phone.

  Hell’s bells! This was an exciting development. They were so close. Cash had made contact. They had access to new information that could help.

  “I knew your daddy wasn’t a killer,” I told Toria who’d come to see what the excitement was about. Or, if you really want to know the truth, she could have come to see if I was baking more cat treats.

  I still didn’t know where Cash had been, but I had every confidence now that he was in touch with Malone the whole hot mess would be sorted out. And soon.

  My stomach lurched. I only hoped whatever Malone and crew found on Cash’s computer, or whatever information he could help them with, would be in time to save Heidi from the same fate as Jake.

  I reached down to stroke Toria’s soft fur. “You’ll be going home soon,” I told her. She leaned in and purred as if she knew what I’d said.

  “We can’t do anything,” I told her. “We just have to be patient and wait.”

  Toria gave a sharp meow that said she didn’t like the idea of waiting any better than I did.

  Surely Malone would at least do me the courtesy of letting me know if they were able to find Heidi.

  When they found Heidi, I corrected myself. I wasn’t going to consider the possibility they wouldn’t.

  I remembered how long I’d had to wait on his report about the angry Mr. Zellwen. Okay, fair enough, he had his hands full, but I needed something to keep me from going crazy until I got the information.

  I took a deep breath and then exhaled. I still had that bad news to deliver.

  I tucked my cell phone in my jeans pocket and grabbed my car keys. Best to get things cleared up with Wayne and the disappointing news about the basset hound. I checked my bag to make sure I had the information on the rescue group I’d jotted down earlier. He’d had his heart set on Cheeky, but I hoped the idea of getting in touch with the SoCal basset hound rescue might soften the blow of the adoption not working out. In any case, in my experience, it’s best to get bad news over with right away.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  WAYNE’S HOUSE WAS a drab slate blue and surrounded by the stubble of a lawn in need of care. In the back there was a shed that had probably once also been the same shade of blue. It looked like it needed a new roof and coat of paint. An oleander hedge along the back of his lot really needed trimmed back, and I thought about the expression Grandma Tillie had often used about the shoemaker’s children going barefoot. I supposed when he got home from working on trimming up other people’s hedges, the last thing he wanted to do was work on his own. The yard was fenced, which would be good when he eventually brought home his basset hound. I was sure the rescue group could help him find a good match.
r />   The “Cutting Hedge” van was parked in the drive, so Wayne was apparently home. A part of me had been wishing for a reprieve.

  Wayne answered my knock right away. His big body filled the doorway, but I could still see past him into the house. The meager furnishings were plain but serviceable. There was a couch, a recliner that had seen better days, dining-room chair, and a TV tray currently being used as a lamp table. The living room was not exactly clean and neat, but still not terrible for a guy living alone.

  He smelled like sweat and nervously shifted from one foot to the other. I wondered if I’d caught him at a bad time. Maybe he’d just gotten home. The television blared from the other room, so maybe I’d interrupted a favorite show.

  It didn’t appear he was going to invite me in.

  Shoot. This was not a conversation I wanted to have standing on his front porch.

  “Would it be okay if I came in?” I pointed past him.

  “Oh, sorry. Come in. Come in.” He moved aside so I could enter. “I wasn’t expecting company.”

  I crossed the room and sat on the couch which was in direct line of sight to the television. A court reality show was on, and Judge Wanda was about to mete out her punishment for a roommate who’d apparently eaten his roomie’s birthday cake and drank said birthday boy’s beer. Perhaps the verdict was what had Wayne on pins and needles.

  “Is this a bad time?” I raised a brow.

  “No, no. This is fine.” Wayne turned the volume down and sat carefully on the arm of the chair.

  This was going to be a hard conversation, and I truly felt sorry for the man. It seemed like he badly wanted a pet, and we had a ton of pets in need of homes. But I knew he’d had his heart set on Cheeky, the basset hound. Maybe he’d be so happy for Cheeky, knowing his owners had come to claim him, that it would temper his disappointment. Best to just spit it out.

  “Wayne, I know you’ve had your heart set on adopting Cheeky, and tomorrow the waiting period would be over.” I took a deep breath. “But today Cheeky’s owners called, then came in and identified him and picked him up.”

  “What?” Wayne jumped up. I hadn’t even realized the big man could move that fast. “They can’t do that after they deserted him.”

  “They were out of town, and their nephew was supposed to be taking care of him. I guess he got out somehow without his collar on, and the nephew failed to report it, and so they didn’t even know he was gone until they got home from their trip.”

  Wayne paced back and forth.

  “That’s completely irresponsible. They should have made sure Charlie was taken care of.”

  “Charlie? You mean, Cheeky right?”

  “Oh, yeah. That’s what I meant. Cheeky.”

  “I’m so sorry, Wayne.” I stood and approached him. I’d known the poor guy would be disappointed, but I didn’t realize he’d take it this badly. He was really agitated. It was good Don hadn’t tried to handle this news with a phone call.

  “It’s not right.” His voice got louder. “They shouldn’t get him.”

  I lowered my voice. It’s a great de-escalation technique. It often works with dogs and with people.

  “I know you’re upset,” I said quietly. “But I’m sure they’ll be more careful in the future. And we’re going to check in on them and Cheeky and make sure he’s okay.”

  “He’s not okay!” Wayne roared. “This is not okay.” He pounded the table.

  I felt so bad for the guy. Forgetting his sensitivity to touch, I laid my hand on his forearm in an attempt to calm him, and he immediately shook it off.

  In doing so, he flung his arm out and hit the lamp on the TV tray. Broken pieces of the shattered lamp flew. One of the shards embedded itself in Wayne’s hand, but he didn’t even flinch.

  Blood began to drip on his jeans, but he was so agitated, he didn’t notice.

  Man, I’d known he would be unhappy, but I hadn’t thought he would take it this hard. He was so upset he couldn’t speak, his face red, his breathing labored.

  “Hang on there, buddy.” I could see the kitchen through a doorway and figured it would be a good idea to rinse the cut. “You’ve cut yourself and you’re bleeding. Let’s take care of that.”

  He’d stopped yelling and seemed to be in shock. He stood, eyes wide, but he made no move toward the kitchen.

  I was beginning to reevaluate whether we’d made a good choice in approving him for a pet adoption. His references had checked out. He didn’t have a criminal background. He was new in town, not originally from the area, but Don Furry had done an extensive interview with him. Nothing we’d seen had indicated the kind of extreme instability I was seeing now.

  I hurried through to the kitchen and grabbed a handful of paper towels.

  “Let me take a look at that cut.” I still thought it should be cleaned, but we’d start with trying to stop the bleeding.

  He shook his head. “It’s nothing.” He wrapped his hand with the paper towels I’d brought but still didn’t move. “I’ve cut myself way worse doing yard work.”

  “Well, this cut is bleeding a lot. Let me get a damp towel and we can at least clean the wound a bit and see what we’re dealing with.” I went back to the kitchen, tore off some more towels, and ran them under water. As I did, my gaze landed on the glittery hairclip beside the sink. It looked like it had been washed, but it still sparkled like gold.

  Real gold and pink topaz and very expensive.

  I felt like I’d been sucker punched. Like all of my breath left my body. I’d seen this hair ornament before.

  I picked it up and turned.

  Wayne stood in the doorway. One look at his face—the rage gone, an emotionless stillness in its place—told me he knew I’d recognized the hair clip.

  “It was you.”

  He nodded slightly.

  Holy Blindside, Batman!

  “Is Heidi alive?”

  “For now she is. Her boyfriend will come for her, and then I’ll take care of him.”

  I stepped away keeping my eyes on him, but I didn’t have far to go. My back was against the counter.

  “Where are you keeping her?”

  He didn’t say anything, but his eyes slid to the kitchen window.

  I’d noticed the shed earlier near the overgrown hedge. “Is Heidi out there?”

  Wayne didn’t answer, but his expression confirmed it. He raised his hand to look at the cut, and as he did more blood dripped on the floor.

  Great, he was keeping Heidi in a shed out back, he was bleeding all over his floor, no one knew where I was, and I didn’t think he was losing enough blood so that I could pin my hopes on him bleeding out.

  I tried to remember some of the moves from my self-defense class, but he had the clear advantage in size, and he was blocking my escape route. If I could distract him maybe I could make a run for it.

  Reaching behind me, I tried to remember what else had been on the counter. Dirty dishes, a greasy rag, the roll of paper towels. No knives that I could picture.

  Suddenly, my phone rang. I looked at Wayne.

  “Answer it, but no funny business,” he said flatly.

  I pulled it from my pocket and glanced at the caller ID. It was Betty. Wonderful. I was about to be killed, and my last phone call would be from a pajama-clad senior citizen.

  You’ve seen those shows where the person is being held at gun/knifepoint but they’re able to send a coded message to the person on the other end of the phone signaling they were in danger? All without alerting the killer?

  Yeah, that was not going to happen here.

  I pushed the button to answer. “Hello, Betty.”

  “Hey, Carol.” Her voice crackled through the phone. “I’m at your house. When are you coming home?”

  “Wait. What are you doing at my house?”

  “You said I could have those dog-trainer books for Raider, and I had some time today so I stopped by to get them. I got here and your neighbor lady thought I shouldn’t be sitting outside in th
e sun so she let me in. I’m inside. Nice house you’ve got. Nice dog, too. Your cats are okay. That one is funny looking. Weird ears.”

  I was so upset that Betty was at my house and had talked her way inside that I almost forgot I was about to be offed.

  “Betty, you don’t just go into people’s homes uninvited.”

  “I didn’t, Carmen. You invited me.”

  “But I’m not home right now.” I suddenly remembered Wayne. “I’m at—” I stopped, noting the crazed look in Wayne’s eyes and the vein that pulsed in his forehead. I didn’t dare risk it. He could snap at any moment.

  Wayne lunged forward and took the phone from me, pushed the disconnect button, and threw it on counter. It immediately rang. Betty didn’t like being hung up on.

  He pushed the end button again. It rang again. He stomped off, marched through the front door, and threw it outside.

  So much for that lifeline. No phoning a friend for me.

  It only took a few minutes for him to get to the door and back, but I knew I had to take the opportunity try to escape. Otherwise, my chances for survival did not look good.

  Before he could get back to the kitchen, I ran for the back of the house. I wasn’t at all sure where I was running, but I figured there had to be a door that led outside or at the very least room with a lock that would buy me some time.

  “No, you don’t.” The man was big, but he was quick. He grabbed my hair and yanked me back. “You sit right here.” He dragged me to the living room and pushed me down on the couch. “I gotta figure out what to do about you.”

  He’d begun to pace again.

  “Why?” I asked quietly.

  “What?” He stopped and stared at me, beads of sweat stood out on his forehead and upper lip.

  “Why, Wayne?” I’d put together (I know, too little too late) that everything had started when Wayne arrived on the scene. That day at the office when he’d claimed car trouble had obviously just been a ploy. He must have been looking for Jake and Cash.