Never Con a Corgi (28 page)

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Authors: Edie Claire

BOOK: Never Con a Corgi
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Leigh felt an urge to fidget. She suppressed it. "I haven't thought about it."

Allison's brow furrowed. "How can you not think about it?"

Leigh fidgeted. Why couldn't the girl obsess over something a little more normal for her age? Like baking brownies? "What am I, a detective?" she said dismissively. "It's not our business to think about it, Allison. Particularly yours."

Allison looked frustrated. "But, Mom, the two things
have
to be related! I mean, coincidences that big don't just happen. Two bodies in four days, found so close together? Remember when I was trying to find a four-toed salamander in our backyard, and Grandpa started telling me about statistics and probability, and he said that—"

"Aunt Bess!" Cara's sharp voice caused everyone to stop and look at her. She offered a conciliatory smile, but no one was fooled. She stepped quickly to Bess's side. "Would you mind if Leigh and I left the Pack with you until they finish up with Chewie?" she asked. "We need to go somewhere—but we won't be long."

"Of course," Bess answered, collecting Allison and redirecting her toward the deskunking area. "They can stay as long as you like. But what—"

Her question went unanswered as Cara grabbed Leigh's elbow and hustled her toward the vans. "We should drive separately," she instructed.

"I assume you've heard from Gil?" Maura asked when the women reached the driveway.

"Yes," Cara answered. "We're meeting him at the house; the kids are staying here for now."

Maura nodded. "I'm going to go see Peterson up at the station." She looked over her shoulder at Leigh. "Let me know what's going on with you, all right?"

Leigh had no time to respond. The detective was already in her car and driving off.

"Cara—" Leigh began.

"Just drive!" her cousin ordered, all fake equanimity gone. "I'll explain when we get there!"

Chapter 26

Cara's "explanation" left much to be desired. All Leigh knew by the time she and Cara walked into the farmhouse—where Gil, Lydie, and Frances all stood rigidly in the living room waiting for them—was that Courtney's "mafia man" was loose in Pittsburgh and had shown up at Gil's office. The women's faces were ashen and Frances was clearly in need of a valium.

Cara greeted her husband as if he'd been through a military battle. "Are you sure you're okay?" she pressed, checking him over herself to make sure.

"I told you, I'm perfectly fine," he insisted. "Nobody got hurt. One of the guards got the wind knocked out of him, that's all."

"But what was this man
doing
there?" Cara insisted.

Gil ran a hand through his rumpled hair. Leigh couldn't remember ever seeing him so disheveled. Outside of a gym, the closest he came to breaking a sweat was driving his golf cart with the top down.

"I told you, he's trying to find Courtney," Gil explained. "How he connected her with me, I don't know. But I have my suspicions."

"Diana Saxton," Cara said sharply.

"Probably," Gil agreed.

"Do you even know where this Courtney woman is?" Lydie asked. Frances said nothing. Her eyes were wide as saucers. Leigh knew the signs. At any moment her mother would morph from passive panic into active panic—at which point the orders would begin. Frances' brain was clicking all the details into place even as they spoke.

"Not right now, I don't," Gil answered. "She was supposed to come by my office this afternoon, to meet an associate of mine and pick up his keys. She never came, and she isn't returning my calls. In fact, her phone seems to be shut off entirely. I'm guessing she realized this man had followed her to Pittsburgh and now she's on the run again."

"So, he is dangerous," Leigh said stupidly.

Gil looked at her. "Courtney certainly seems to think so. But we still don't know exactly
who
he is. She refused to give me a name. We've got him on the security tapes, but it's no easy feat to ID a man when all you have to go on is that he's from Chicago." His voice grew edgier. "I think Diana knows who he is; and I think she put him on to me. But I can't prove it. She admitted to the police that she ran into him this morning at Brandon's apartment, that he was looking for Courtney. But she insists she didn't tell him anything."

Cara referred to Diana with a distinctly unladylike term. "She
always
tells just enough of the truth not to get caught!"

"But why would he go after Gil?" Leigh insisted, trying, in her own mind, to minimize her irrational fear of the man. Every criminal on the planet was not out to get her family. Really, they weren't. "Brandon is dead—all he wants now is to find Courtney, right?"

Gil's eyes flickered with something Leigh really did not want to see. She suspected he didn't want to say it, either.

"Diana believes I wronged her, and she wants revenge," he said levelly. "She proved that again when she came to see me earlier today." He paused a moment, looking at his wife. "You're always telling me I can't read people, and I know I'm not that good at it. But I was up at the reception desk when this guy walked in, and he never even said a word. He just looked at me. Just stood there looking at me, and after about three seconds, Chad hit the security button. The guy saw Chad's hand move, and he bolted. He never even asked where Courtney was."

"Why did Chad hit the button?" Cara asked, sounding as if she knew the answer already.

"Because Chad
can
read people," Gil replied. "I could tell the guy was mad about something—anybody could see that. And we both knew who he was, from the description Courtney gave me. But Chad said he hit the button because..."

Frances wavered a little on her feet. Both Lydie and Leigh jumped in, prepared to take an arm, but Frances gave herself a shake and pushed them away. "Because
why
?" she demanded.

Gil put an arm around Cara. "Because Chad thought he looked like... well, that he looked like he wanted to kill me."

Cara repeated the unladylike term she'd used earlier. "Diana!" she raged. "She told that man something, something she
knew
would set him against you! Either that you had intentionally hidden Courtney from him, or that you had done something to hurt her, or that you and she—"

Cara swore a little more. "Oh, Diana
would
think of
that!
And it would work, too!"

Gil cleared his throat. "The bottom line is, if this man is pursuing me, I'm not going to take any chances about putting the rest of you in danger. So what I—"

"What we're going to do is this," Sergeant Frances interrupted, meticulously adjusting her sleeves from three-quarters length to just above the elbow. Leigh and Lydie stepped back. The transformation was complete. "You and Cara are going to pack up your family's things and move into Lydie's house. Leigh, you and Warren will do the same and come to our house. This Courtney person evidently knows about the farm already, and she could return, which means she could lead this man here. But she has no connection with our houses in West View, and neither will he. It
isn't
overreacting," she stressed, looking at her daughter. "It's common sense. Now, let's everyone get moving. Chop, chop!"

Gil's eyes pleaded with Cara's for understanding. "I called your mother because I thought it would be a good idea to get you and the kids away as soon as possible," he explained. "We have a top-notch security system here, and I could hire guards, but I would hate for the kids to go through that, to feel unsafe in their own home. And the fact is, a man like him would have no trouble figuring out where I live, even without Courtney to lead him. And if he wanted to make trouble—"

"We'll go," Cara answered quickly. "But only if you come with us." She looked at Leigh. "And you guys, too. In this case, our houses are too close together for comfort."

"Sure," came a deep voice behind Leigh. As familiar as it was, she still jumped a foot. But when Warren's arms came around her she leaned against his tall frame gratefully. "We can camp out in West View for a day or two, no problem. I've been looking for an excuse not to mow the lawn. And maybe, if we're good, Frances will make my favorite sausage casserole."

Leigh's mother beamed.

The men exchanged a look, and Leigh's teeth gritted. Once again, clearly, she had been the last one to get the memo.

Her instinctive impulse to resist a mandatory evacuation order—purely on principle—flared up right on cue, but it was a pathetic little impulse, at best.
Had
she seen Courtney's mafia man outside her own office earlier? Maybe, maybe not. Either way, the mere possibility had scared the crap out of her. Having such a man in the same city as her children was bad enough—the thought of his coming to their home, with intent to harm, made her physically ill.
Nobody
messed with her babies.

She imagined the Pack playing happily at Bess's, fussing over Chewie, trying to talk Bess into making her famous cinnamon chili dogs. All but Allison, whom she pictured looking wistfully into the woods, wishing they could all walk back to the pond again...

"You start getting everyone's things together, and I'll meet you in West View," she told Warren, breaking away from the group and pulling her van keys from her pocket. "I'm going to fetch the Pack."

 

***

 

Leigh pulled into Bess's driveway, hopped out of the van, and cringed as she looked beneath the vehicle, fearing she was bound to see something either leaking out, banged in, or hanging off. She had taken the private road a bit too fast and forgotten to dodge the potholes.

She had other things on her mind.

Seeing nothing obviously damaged, she straightened and headed for the house. She didn't plan to tell the Pack anything except that they were all having dinner in West View tonight. She would let their fathers explain the rest of it. Trusting herself not to seem frightened would be pushing it. Particularly with Allison's sharp brown eyes watching her every move...

Coincidences that big don't just happen.

Of course they did. Coincidences happened every day. No one else thought that Chewie's bone had anything to do with the murder of Brandon Lyle. She certainly didn't.

Never mind that the mere thought of the Pack being out here, in the very place where Chewie had found that bone, bothered her so much that she had nearly taken out her transmission getting back to them.

She was nervous about Courtney's criminal boyfriend threatening Gil. That was all. Wasn't that enough?

Her hand punched Bess's doorbell.

There was silence.

Leigh took in a shaky breath and held it. She looked over her shoulder at Bess's car. It was parked in the garage, as always. There was no one outside. No shouting boys. No squealing girls. No dogs barking.

"Bess?" she called, letting out the breath in a croak. There was no response. She put her hand on the door and turned the knob.

A cat mewed at her plaintively as the door swung open. Many more cats looked up at her, with varying degrees of disinterest, as she stepped inside. Everything looked perfectly ordinary, perfectly in place. The television was on, but the sound was muted. There was not a soul in sight.

"Ethan?" she called up the stairs. "Allison? Are you guys here?"

Silence.

Leigh pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and dialed her Aunt Bess. They had to be around here some—

From its position on the coffee table, her aunt's phone chimed "The Entertainer." Leigh swore out loud and hung up.

She had to think. So Bess had left the house with the kids and both dogs, doors unlocked, television still on, no phone. Most likely, they had all gone on a walk. That's what they always did at Bess's, didn't they?

A walk to the pond.

Leigh shoved the idea from her mind.
No.
The kids knew they weren't allowed to do that now, and Bess would never let them. As much of a nut as Bess could be, she was a perfectly trustworthy babysitter. Maura had told them all to stay out of the area until further notice, and Bess would never go against a direct police order.

Or would she?

No.
By herself, maybe. But not when she had the Pack.

Leigh felt an unpleasant tightening in her chest. So where
were
they?

She cast another glance around the living room, and the television screen caught her eye. It didn't look normal. The colors were flat; there was too little motion. She took a closer look.

Her blood froze in her veins.

She wasn't watching television. She was watching Bess's motion-activated camera at the pond. And some motion was happening right now.

Dirt was flying. It was an odd angle; the source of the movement wasn't in the frame. But moist dirt was hitting the muddy bank of the pond, one clump at a time. As Leigh watched, the tip of a shovel came in and out of view, as someone—clearly a human—dug a hole just off camera.

Her heart pounded in her chest. Bess and the children could not be out at the pond, digging. That was crazy. It was someone else.

Who?

Leigh leaned in closer to the monitor, wishing desperately to pan the camera, just a little. But it was no use. Whoever was wielding the shovel remained just out of sight.

Digging what?

Her heart beat faster.

Coincidences that big don't just happen.

Could Chewie have found the bone right there, beside the pond? Of course he could have. She and Bess had been busy talking and camouflaging the camera. They hadn't paid the least attention to him.

She forced herself to take a breath. But Chewie had found an
old
bone. Old! What could old bones possibly have to do with Brandon Lyle? Or with some mobster from Chicago? The digger was most likely some random adventurer, goofing off with a new metal detector. It had nothing to do with her. The kids and Bess were nowhere near...

Another shovelful of dirt hit the bank. In the midst of this one fell something else. Something firmer.

Something shaped like another piece of bone.

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