Drowning in Amber (A Marie Jenner Mystery Book 2) (28 page)

I stared at Jasmine, barely able to comprehend her words. “I called the dog girl?” I finally whispered. “I don’t remember that.”

“Oh yes, you had a great little chat with her. I did tell you not to, but you wouldn’t listen. And you told her you’d be happy to take her case. Said it would be a cake walk.”

“A cake walk?” I closed my eyes, certain they were about to begin bleeding. “I actually called that girl and told her I’d find her dog?”

“Yes.” Jasmine, evil woman that she is, grinned at me, obviously enjoying the heck out of torturing me. “You did.”

“Did I talk about how much I was going to charge her?” I hoped I hadn’t, because there was a possible out for me. I’d just call her back and tell her I was going to charge an outrageous sum—

“Oh yeah,” Jasmine said, leaning back in her chair and grinning. “Gave her a real deal. Because she sounded like such a nice person.”

“Did I actually say that?”

“Yes, you did. I swear, I thought you two were going to be BFFs before the end of that phone call.”

“Oh, Jasmine!” I put my poor pounding head down on the table and rocked it back and forth a couple of times, until vertigo kicked in and I stopped, fast. “What am I going to do?”

“You’re going to have a shower, pull yourself together, then go find a dog.”

“Do I have to?” I knew I sounded like one of her kids, whining that life wasn’t fair and all that, but I couldn’t stop it. Jasmine pointed at the hallway that led to the bathroom.

“Yes, you do. You told her you would, so you’re going. You have to keep your word, don’t you?”

“Yeah.”

Jasmine laughed and turned back to her paper. “Have fun.”

“Kiss my ass,” I muttered, glancing around to make sure none of her kids were in hearing range. “And I mean it.”

“I’m sure you do,” she said distantly, already engrossed in another article. “You wrote down all her particulars on a piece of paper in the living room. Just so you know.”

“I mean it,” I said, again. “Really.”

As I looked over the information I’d gathered, bits of the telephone conversation I’d had with Veronica seeped into my brain. Her high, breathless voice describing Gypsy and how she, like, smiles. Veronica was twelve. I was sure of it.

“Good grief,” I muttered, dropped the paper on the coffee table, and then went to take a shower.

“So how does one actually go about finding a lost dog?” I muttered as I worked shampoo into my hair without tipping my head either too far forward or back, because I was still dealing with some pretty bad vertigo, and did not want to find myself on my ass on the floor of the shower, on top of everything else.

First thing was, call the city pound. Then, if they didn’t have him—no, her—check to see if she had been turned into the Humane Society. Then, and only then, I would head out to the off-leash area, the place Veronica said she’d been walking the dog when it disappeared.

I was going to need a car—or somebody with a car. The pound was at one end of the city, and the Humane Society at the other. And then the off-leash area was way down in the deep southwest somewhere. Which meant I would have to talk to James. Perfect.

“What have I done?” I muttered as I rinsed the shampoo from my hair.

Made my life way more complicated than it had been the day before. That’s what I had done.

“DO YOU HAVE
to sit there and listen?” I asked Jasmine an hour later, after I’d made all the phone calls and ascertained that Gypsy the dog had not been picked up by the pound or been delivered to the Humane Society. Now I had to get out to the off-leash area, and there was no way to do that without getting a ride.

“Yes, I do,” she said, a fresh cup of coffee in her hand and a smug look on her face.

“Don’t you have to go to work?”

“Not for another hour.” She gestured with her cup. “Ignore me! Act like I’m not even here. Just make the call.”

“Jesus.” I jabbed the buttons so hard, I was amazed I didn’t snap a nail. I listened as the phone rang twice, and made to disconnect. “He’s obviously not there.”

“Give it a minute,” Jasmine said. “It’s only 8:30 in the morning. Maybe he isn’t up yet. You did say he’s still staying at the office, didn’t you?”

“Yes.” I sighed, listening as the phone rang twice more. “Is that enough, Mom?” I asked sarcastically, then jumped nearly out of my skin when James picked up.

“I knew he’d be there,” Jasmine said as I stuttered through my hellos and listened to his voice ice considerably when he realized it was me. I slapped my hand over the mouthpiece.

“He’s pissed that I’m calling,” I snapped. “I’m hanging up.”

“Just talk to him!” Jasmine yelled. “It’s a case, for heaven’s sake!”

“I have a case,” I said to James, then rushed through the gist of it without giving him much time to say anything past, “Oh.”

He didn’t seem surprised that I’d called the lost dog girl or that I’d taken the case. He didn’t sound thrilled, either, but at least some of the ice thawed from his voice when he said he’d be there in twenty minutes to pick me up.

I was going to say something about the car, and all the people we had tailing us the day before, but I didn’t. He’d handle it, I was sure. Just like he had before.

My hands were shaking when I finally disconnected.

“There,” Jasmine said with a smug look on her face. “I told you it wouldn’t be so hard.”

“Yes it was!” I yelled. “Good grief! And now I have to go out and look for a lost frigging dog. Because I got drunk last night and said I would.”

“At least it’s not raining,” Jasmine said.

“Shut up.” I went to find my coat and boots, so I didn’t have to look at her anymore. This was all so ridiculous, I could barely believe it.

James showed up with a pretty good attitude, all things considered. He drank coffee and joked with Jasmine as I ran around pulling myself together, and then we left.

Jasmine was right. It was a nice morning, the air crisp and clear. I almost felt like I would survive. Until I saw Eddie skulking in the back seat of the car, looking absolutely furious. Seeing him brought the pounding behind my eyes back.

I glanced up and down the street, looking for vehicles I didn’t recognize.

“Don’t worry,” James said. “I wasn’t followed.”

“Good,” I said.

“Now, are you going to tell me what made you decide to take this case?” James opened the car door for me. “I thought you were leaving.”

“I don’t know,” I replied miserably. “The girl needs her dog. I thought we could help. Stupid, huh?”

“No,” he replied, and gave me a real smile. It felt like ages since I’d seen him smile, even though it had only been a day. “It’s not stupid. She asked us for help. So we help.”

“Thanks,” I whispered.

“And who knows?” he continued. “Maybe if it goes well, you can forget that interview and stick with me. Heck, this could be our ‘thing.’”

“Like that guy in that movie,” I said. “You know the one?”

“Yeah,” he replied. “I thought it was pretty funny.”

“So did I.”

He almost closed the car door, then stopped. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” I asked. If anyone should have apologized, it was me.

“For yelling about you looking for another job. You can take whatever job you want. I was being an ass.”

“I don’t want the other job.” I spoke in a rush, to get all the words out before I did something stupid, again. “I really don’t. I’d much rather work with you. If that’s all right.”

“It’s absolutely all right.” He smiled, and he pointed at a to-go cup in the holder by my left hand. “I brought you coffee.”

Then he shut the door, and I was momentarily alone with furious Eddie.

“Why didn’t you tell me about this moving on shit?” he asked. “Why did I have to wait for Noreen to clue me in?”

“Noreen?” I grabbed my coffee and popped the top, breathing in the excellent scent and hoping this wouldn’t turn into one of those horrible three-way conversations that never seemed to go my way. I watched James walk slowly around the front of the car and knew we had only moments before he was in. “Can we talk later? Please?”

“Yeah,” he said, surprising me a lot. “I want your full attention. Because I need some real answers out of you.”

“Thanks,” I breathed.

“I’m not doing it for you,” he replied shortly. He sat back in the seat with his arms folded over his chest as James opened his door and got in.

“Where are we going?” he asked.

I pulled the sheet of paper out of my pocket and read off the address of the dog park, where Veronica had last seen her dog.

“She said the dog just took off over a hill and never came back,” I said. “I’m honestly not sure how we are going to find him. Her.”

“We’ll start there,” James said, pulling the car into traffic. “How’s the coffee?”

“Excellent.” I smiled at him. “Thanks.”

“What breed are we looking for?”

“A lab,” I said. “A black lab. Her name is Gypsy.” I looked down at the sheet of paper with my drunken writing scrawled all over it. “She has a red collar, with a heart shaped dog tag. At least, that’s what Veronica told me.”

“You talked to her last night?”

“Apparently.”

“You drinking again?”

I stiffened. Whether I had a couple of drinks was none of his business. “Just a couple. Why?”

“I can smell it on you.”

“And?”

“You seem to be doing that a lot, lately.”

“And?” I felt my anger build, and behind it, my stupid headache.

“Nothing. Just an observation.” He changed lanes, then glanced over at me. “Any particular reason?”

“No.” I looked out my side window, so I didn’t have to look at him. “Just felt like it.”

“All right.”

Even though his voice sounded neutral, I was certain I heard judgment in it. God! People judged about everything. I took another sip of coffee and watched the streets blur by. I was tired of always having to explain my every action to everybody. Why couldn’t they all just leave me alone?

Because I pulled them into my ridiculous schemes, with my drunk calling and other stuff. That’s why. I morosely buried my face in my coffee and tried to bury the nasty thoughts, hoping we’d get to the dog park fast.

Luckily, both the guys in the car left me alone. The dead one because he was super pissed with me for not giving him enough information about moving on, even though I was sure I had. And the live one? I hazarded a glance at him. He didn’t look pissed, but he had been the night before.

I hoped we’d find the dog quickly. We seriously needed one in the win column, even if we were working for a twelve-year-old.

EVEN THOUGH I
was pissed at Marie, that dog thing was something to watch, I must say.

I was going to stay in the car, but there was a bunch of dogs running around, sniffing the air and each other’s butts, and looking like they were having such a good time, I decided what the hell and went out into the middle of the field to watch them.

Funny. Didn’t know dogs could feel when a ghost is around, but I learned the hard way. Caused a bit of a dog pile as they all rushed over to me, which caused a couple of fights. It wasn’t even the big dogs that started snapping and snarling, it was the little guys. A Jack Russell terrier ran up, peed in the general direction of my leg, and hit a big bull mastiff, which ruffled his feathers. Both owners called their animals with angry looks that told everyone there they felt if the other owner had just bothered to teach their dog any manners whatsoever, this unfortunate incident wouldn’t have happened.

I moved away from the dog pile as the owners sorted things out. I was looking for Marie, but when I saw that the dogs were following me again, decided what the hell and led them all on a merry chase around the field. Probably looked funny as hell, a pack of dogs chasing absolutely nothing, but it was fun. The sun hit my face, warming me, and the dogs barked and ran behind me, sounding like they were having as much fun as I was. Then they dropped off, one by one, as owners regained control, until I was left alone.

I heard Marie calling “Hey, Gypsy? Come here girl!” over and over again, in a small grove of trees, and jogged in her direction.

Then her voice changed. “Oh, Gypsy,” she said, and the sadness oozed through those words until I didn’t want to see what she’d found. Thought about turning and walking back to the other dogs, all out running around enjoying the hell out of life, and leaving Marie with her dog and the death that seemed to follow that girl wherever she went.

But I didn’t. I walked over to her, even as James smashed through the underbrush from the other direction, calling, “Marie, are you all right?”

My guess was, she wasn’t all right. Not at all.