4 Woof at the Door Page 22

  I decided to visit the Atkinsons again under the guise of checking on the puppies. Paige or Hank might say something incriminating.

  I drove straight there. Along the way, my sensible side was berating the rashness of my actions. Yet I couldn’t get past my anger and guilt for Beverly’s death well enough to listen.

  I rang the doorbell, shoring up myself for the anticipated rude greeting I’d received here to date. Hank appeared in the doorway. His normally attractive features looked haggard. His reddish brown hair was uncombed, and he wore a gray sweatshirt with the sleeves ripped off at the shoulders over brown pants that looked to be slacks from a business suit, and black court shoes. “Allida, I’m surprised to see you here.”

  My instincts were warning that I should have paid more attention to the little voice that had voted against my coming here. “Likewise. I assumed you’d be at work. I just stopped by to check on the puppies.”

  “They’re fine. Mother and pups are sleeping.”

  Hank’s mannerism was so hostile, I found myself worrying not only about the dogs, but for Paige’s well-fair. “Can I just take a quick peek in on them?” I asked.

  He stayed put, one hand gripping the edge of the door. “You were at Bellingham’s warehouse yesterday. It’d be best for your health if you forget all about that place.”

  “You’re threatening me?”

  “More like warning you. You’ve got things all wrong.”

  I forced myself to stay put, though my imagination already had put me making a mad dash for the safety of my car. “It’s too late to do anything to me, Hank. I had other witnesses. We’ve already notified the police.”

  Hank flung the door out of his way and grabbed my arm with so much force, it hurt badly. “Let’s go for a walk around the block. Let me set you straight on some things. I don’t want us to disturb Paige.” He dragged me out to the sidewalk.

  “You’re hurting me!” I said. “Let go or I’m screaming so loud your whole neighborhood will hear!”

  Hank’s face paled as he stared at something past me, further down the sidewalk. Chesh was out walking Doobie, more like she was being dragged by the dog. She took one look at me and let go of the leash. Hank tried to turn to run back into his house.

  In a flash, Doobie leapt onto Hank, bowling him over. “Help!” Hank cried. The dog was not biting him, but had three of four paws on his back, pinning him down on the concrete sidewalk.

  “Chesh, call the police.” She ran toward his house. I turned my attention to the dog. “Doobie, cease!”

  Doobie merely looked at me and did what dogs often do when they don’t understand a command: revert to the single instruction they first learned and know the best. He sat down on Hank’s back.

  “Get him off me!” Hank said, straining.

  Doobie let out a menacing growl. He had an eye on the back of Hank’s neck, and it was too risky that he might bite. I commanded Doobie to come, but he ignored me. I managed to get hold of the leash, but was no physical match for the dog.

  I heard a familiar voice from somewhere down the sidewalk. “Allida. What’s going on?” Seth Mulhuniak must have heard the commotion.

  “Dog whistle,” I cried, unwilling to divert my focus from trying to keep Doobie’s leash too taut for him to reach Hank’s neck.

  I realized as soon as I’d spoken that the odds were against Seth having his whistle with him. But a moment later, Doobie jerked around to look for the source of, what for him, would be a piercing noise.

  Hank managed to get out from under the dog, which promptly snarled and barked fiercely.

  Hank leapt onto the roof of my car. “I didn’t kill anybody, Allida,” he yelled. “It wasn’t me. You have to believe me.”

  “Your credibility is somewhat lacking,” I called over the loud barks.

  “Get Doobie back inside! I need to get to the hospital. My arm is killing me!”

  “I’m sure it is.”

  Chesh ran outside to join me. “I called nine-one-one. Someone will be here in another minute or two.”

  “Help me get Doobie under control.” She grabbed hold of the leash as well, but even between the two of us, we wouldn’t have been strong enough to drag Doobie into her house. Even so, doing so would have allowed Hank to escape.

  A police car arrived incredibly fast. It must have been in the immediate area. The moment the officer stepped from his car, Hank cried, “Oh, thank God. Arrest me.”

  The moment the police officer was through taking my statement and told me I could leave, I drove to my office in search of Russell. His car wasn’t in his space. I felt completely overwrought by the morning’s events and needed to see him. I called his cell, but got no answer. I left a message to call me back. I sighed in frustration.

  We weren’t the perfect match. We didn’t have as much in common as I’d like, but we could work on that. But whenever the chips were really down, it was always him I thought of first, the one I wanted to be with. I cursed when I saw his car wasn’t in his space.

  In the slim hope that he’d taken RTD in this morning, I left my car engine running and went inside. He wasn’t there.

  Damn! Just when I’d finally decided I could say those three all-important words to him that scared me to death, he wasn’t here. I spotted the bouquet on my desk and remembered. He’d made it easy for me. I didn’t have to say them. Instead I pulled the last petal off the daisy he’d given me and Scotch-taped it to his door.

  “Coward,” I scolded. If I stayed here to await Russ’s return, I’d be too scared to leave my “note” in place. I had to do this thing before my fears left me apoplectic. I checked my watch. A few minutes after noon.

  Across from the YMCA building on Mapleton, just a few miles east of my office, is a climbing wall. Russell often went there during the lunch hour. Going to go look for him there beat wearing a hole in the floor with my pacing and in my stomach with my nerves. I drove there. My heart started pounding mercilessly at the sight of his green Volvo in the parking lot.

  In a lousy cliche, my knees were knocking as I entered the lobby and searched the large attached room for Russell. No sign of him. Come to think of it, why was he here when he had a broken collar bone?

  “Can I help you?” the young, muscular, lycra-clad woman at the counter asked.

  “Is Russell Greene here?”

  “Haven’t seen him. Just a minute, and I’ll get one of the guys to check the locker room.”

  She left, and another perky woman approached. “Hi, have you been here before?” she asked me.

  I shook my head.

  “In that case, you need to fill out our form first.” She slid a clip board toward me.

  I started to protest, but decided this was a sign. I was being given this opportunity to conquer my greatest fears, all in one day.

  The young woman at the counter gave me a long form to fill out, which basically made you acknowledge that you knew full well that you were an idiot so that if you fell and shattered your body, you couldn’t sue them.

  I gave her back her form all filled in and my money for one climb, which I assured her would be at the little wall for beginners and that, no, I had no idea what I was doing, but no, I didn’t need an instructor, just a spotter.

  I got up the wall easily. The problem was, I couldn’t get down. As soon as I looked down to where I needed to put the next peg in to lower myself, I had a vertigo attack. The ground started spinning and pitching in my vision. I instantly broke into a sweat and shut my eyes.

  “Uh, Miss?” the spotter called. “Are you having a problem?”

  “Only if you consider paralysis a problem.”

  “Allida?” a familiar voice from down below asked. I wasn’t able to risk turning to see if this was my imagination, or Russell really was here, after all.

  Moments later, Russell, sans his sling was on the wall beside me. “I’m going to help you down, one move at a time.”

  “But your arm…”

  “I don’t need it f
or this beginner’s wall. We’re not high. You’re only one step up off the ground.”

  “But that’s not—”

  “Don’t look down. Just do exactly what I say. Grab this peg in your right hand and move it down, like this.”

  He winced as he placed the peg in a hole for me. I followed his instructions, feeling like an idiot, but knowing it was important to get him off this wall before he aggravated his broken collar bone. One step at a time, he talked me down.

  Once we were back on the ground, I sank to the floor, my face bathed in sweat. Russell sat down next to me. The other climbers did their best to ignore us and not make me feel worse than I already did.

  “What were you trying to do, Allida? Did you forget you were scared of heights?”

  “No, but I thought I might be able to get over it by facing my fear…the same way I got over my fear of dogs after the wolf bite, by facing Atla again.”

  “I’ve got to get my sling back on. I can’t believe you did this. It was lucky I was here.”

  “Yes, it was.” A thought hit me. He hadn’t mentioned the petal I’d taped to his door. Could he have not been back to his office yet? Had he been in another room when I first arrived? “Russell, how long have you been here?”

  “‘Bout an hour. I had lunch with a friend. Why?”

  Which meant, if I wanted to tell him how I felt now, I’d have to actually say the words. “I can only work on one fear at a time.”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “I have to go, Russell. I’ll call you later, okay?”

  I headed off. Russell followed me out to the parking lot. From my rearview mirror, I saw him standing there, looking after my car, as if in the hopes that I might return.

  Chapter 20

  Though immensely disappointed in myself, I drove straight to the office and removed the daisy petal from Russell’s door. The moment it felt right to tell him had passed me by. More importantly, there was too much going wrong in my life to trust my emotions just now. When you’re dangling off a cliff, no one could be more beloved to you than the person who pulls you back to solid ground, yet that doesn’t mean those feelings will last.

  I couldn’t stand to throw the petal away, and so I folded its tape on itself and put it in my pocket. I drove off to my first appointment and made a point of not returning to the office at the end of the day, merely went through my thankfully short work day in something of a daze.

  Afterward, as I started on my long drive home, it occurred to me that much of my confusion regarding Russ had started with my attraction for Damian Hesk. Seeing him again might help me to put things in focus. I drove to his ranch, pondering what to say.

  By the time I got there, my stomach was in knots. I decided to be upfront for once and blurt out my reasons for coming. Then I would make a hasty exit.

  “Damian. Hi, I was hoping you’d be back from work. I’m sorry to drop—”

  “Hey, Allida,” Damian interrupted. “Good to see you. You can help feed the animals”

  “I have something to tell you. Yesterday you hinted that you’d be interested in dating me. That made me face up to my feelings for Russell Greene. The guy who shares my office space?”

  “And?”

  “And I think I’m in love with him.”

  “Oh. I’m sorry to hear that. For my sake. I hope he makes you happy. Get the door for me, would you?” He tossed me the keys.

  I hadn’t been expecting a big reaction on Damian’s part. It’s not as though he should be groveling at my feet and pleading with me to give him a chance, or anything. But a frown might have been nice. Or a sigh. A blink, even.

  Demoralized, I unlocked the door to the animal’s house and swung open the heavy wood-plank door. Damian, his muscular arms struggling with the weight of the two huge plastic buckets of meat, followed me into the center of the animal shelter.

  “What’d the police have to say about the contents of the warehouse?”

  “Not much. They tend to spend their words on questions. But they arrested Hank Atkinson earlier today”

  “On what charges? Do they think he’s the murderer?”

  I shrugged. “I guess so. They’re awfully tight-lipped about their cases”

  “Must be who was behind all of this. I have to say, he’s paid me quite a bit of money over the past couple years for my work on his commercials, but I never liked the guy the much”

  “Neither did I.”

  Damian was slowly scanning his animals, who were all inside the building with us. He seemed tense.

  “Do you think all of this could have been Hank Atkinson’s doing?” I asked. “That he took the keys from Larry and stole the wolf?”

  “Something’s wrong,” Damian said under his breath. “The animals are agitated”

  I followed his line of vision, immediately chilled by Damian’s words. I’d assumed that they were acting this way out of hunger, but on second look, Damian was right. All of the big cats, wolves, and bears were pacing and “talking,” the tigers and lions roaring. Kaia was prancing from side to side in his cage and was salivating. The two bears kept rising to full height and growling.

  Damian’s brow was furrowed. “What the hell is going on?” he muttered.

  “Maybe a stray animal wandered in here and upset them,” I suggested cautiously.

  “No.” He shook his head. “That wouldn’t set them all off like this.” Damian threw a switch by the door and a florescent overhead light came on. He stared at the cement floor ahead of him, then paused and checked each cage. He stopped at Kaia’s cage and peered through the thick mesh. He pointed. “There are shoeprints in Kaia’s den. Somebody’s been in his—Damn it! He’s limping!”

  Damian pivoted and returned to my side. He took a big sniff of the slightly acrid air. “Allida. Do you smell that?”

  I inhaled deeply. “What?”

  “It smells like singed hair. Or fur. I think somebody’s been in here with a cattle prod! That’s the only reason…”

  He let his voice fade. I sniffed again, but the odor of animal waste was still too strong for me to detect anything else.

  He ran to the switches, shoving me toward the door. “I’ve got to help Kaia. Call the vet. His number’s right there over the phone.”

  “Wait, Damian. Should you go in there? If Kaia’s injured—”

  “I raised Kaia from a newborn! He’s as gentle and well-trained as any dog!”

  “Yes, but an injured, scared dog can badly hurt its owner. Shouldn’t you wait until the vet can come give you a hand?”

  “Yeah, you’re right, damn it all.” Damian crossed his arms as if to hold in his anger. “How the hell could this happen?”

  The same way somebody got Atla away from where he belonged and over to Ty Bellingham’s, I thought. I picked up the phone. The line was dead. “Phone’s out. Someone cut the line.” I grabbed my cellphone, just in case. Not surprisingly, there was no signal.

  “Shit! Kaia’s limping badly! Go to the house. Check that phone. If that’s out too, just drive to the nearest gas station and call nine-one-one.” He pressed the button to open Kaia’s cage.

  “Damian, don’t!” I grabbed his arm, but he pulled away from me as if I were a five-year-old child clinging to him. “This is a trap! Can’t you see that? Somebody’s trying to lure you into that cage”

  “Yeah, but I’ve got to see if I can help Kaia. Whoever’s done this is going to have to get through me first before he hurts one my hair on my animals’ hides!”

  “Oh, for—” I stopped. I was wasting valuable time trying to argue with him. I ran toward Damian’s house, patting my pockets for my keys in case, as I strongly suspected, the phone lines to the entire residence had been cut.

  My pockets were empty. I remembered then. I’d planned to make a hasty exit and had left them in the ignition.

  I bolted through the front door and raced toward the first phone I could locate, in the austere living room. I picked up the handset. No dial tone. �
��Shit!”

  Could I really leave Damian here with a wounded wolf while I drove off for a phone? A trip to the nearest gas station and back would easily take half an hour. But what choice did I have? I just didn’t have the physical strength to be of much help.

  I ran back to my car, cursing my physical shortcomings. I grabbed the handle on the car door. Locked! How could that be? I peered through the window. No keys in the ignition.

  Dear God! What was happening?

  I raced into the carport and tried the door of Damian’s van. His doors were locked as well. I had to get the keys from Damian, if he was still all right.

  I ran to the animals’ building, but then approached the doorway on tiptoes. Waited by the door, listening. The animals were still making a racquet, but I heard no human voices. “Damian?”

  No answer.

  I knew it! I knew it was a trap! But there was nothing for me to do now but step into it myself. I couldn’t go the ten miles on foot to reach the highway. Couldn’t run and hide and leave Damian in the cage with an injured wolf.

  The lights were out inside the circular open space. I stepped quietly into the shadows, giving my eyes a minute to adjust to the muted darkness. “Damian?” I whispered.

  The door on Kaia’s cage was shut. Damian was inside, crouched against the wall. He’d been gagged and his hands were tied behind his back. His forehead was bleeding, but he was conscious and breathing, struggling to work his hands free. Kaia was beside him.

  “Oh, my God. Damian. I’ll get the door.” He shook his head, grunting at me, pointing with his chin at the doorway behind me. Just as I started to turn, I spotted a padlock on Kaia’s cage that hadn’t been present moments ago, locking Damian and Kaia inside.

  I automatically flinched and took a step back as someone stepped briskly through the doorway. I recognized the shapely figure and long black hair.

  “Allida, is that you?” she said, her eyes not yet adjusted to the muted lighting inside.

  “Janine. I should have known. It was you, all along!” I said in answer. “You killed all those people!”