Dogs Don't Lie Page 12

  The click, click, click of heels on the tile floor sounded behind me. I didn’t need to look to know that Dr. Whitaker was walking toward us. “Thanks, Pete,” I whispered.

  “Dr. Collins—Kallie.”

  I turned to face Dr. Whitaker. “Yes, sir.”

  “Has Dr. Erickson told you? He’ll be taking your shifts for the next few days.” He glanced down the hall, avoiding my eyes. “Just until things calm down. Should only be a week, or so.”

  “Remember what I said, Kallie,” Pete chimed in. “It’s a great time to get all your Christmas shopping done.”

  I couldn’t keep the frown from forming.

  “Ookaayy then. See you when you get back.” Pete hurried down the hall and disappeared into the employee lounge.

  Dr. Whitaker cleared his throat. “We think this is for the best. And things will calm down. Don’t worry. You are on administrative leave with pay.” He reached out and patted my shoulder. “Eric has Ariel’s things gathered and he’ll help you get them in your car.” With a reserved smile, he said, “Thank you for understanding.”

  He hurried back down the hall and left me standing there, alone in the quiet hallway.

  On the drive home, one moment I’d get teary eyed, and then the next I’d fume at circumstances beyond my control. I didn’t know whether to scream or cry or both. My emotions were somewhat managed by the time Ariel and I entered the front door, her bed, toys, and a small bag of food balanced on my left arm.

  Ella trotted into the entry to meet us. At least she seemed glad we were home.

  The young officer on duty was new—well, new to me, but probably to his job, too. I immediately chided myself for being judgmental. I didn’t like it when people did the same to me because of how young I looked.

  Standing from his chair at the kitchen table, he introduced himself.

  Jim something. I didn’t really pay attention. Turning away, I dropped the dog bed on the living-room floor and sighed. This isn’t his fault. Returning to the kitchen, I smiled at Jim. “There’s coffee in that cupboard.” I pointed. “Cupcakes are in the plastic container in the fridge, and please help yourself.”

  “Thanks.” He sat again at the kitchen table, laptop humming, a notebook and pen on his right. He continued to stare at me. “Bad day?”

  “You could say that. With my animal-communication ability broadcast all over southern Oregon, and most of the appointments today being people wanting to talk to their pets, I’ve been put on administrative leave.”

  “Wow.” He nodded. “I wondered why you were back so soon. I was told your shift didn’t end until seven.”

  “Surprise.” I held up my hands. “And, really, make yourself at home.” Ariel followed me back to my room, where Ella was already curled up on my pillow. I dug into my pack and found my phone. After closing the door, I flopped onto the bed with a bounce, ignoring Ella’s glare of annoyance. I texted Sam and Gracie and let them know a little of what was going on. They were still at work, and I didn’t expect a quick response. A thought swirled in my mind. I sat up, grabbed my pack, and pulled out the paper with the names and addresses of the other victims of R and A. Thinking back on what Pete said about making this time positive, I smiled at Ariel lying next to Ella. “Time for Kinsey to get back on the case.”

  Chapter 18

  It was too late to start investigating at that point, so I grabbed a quick shower and headed to my parents—a pre-emptive strike to advise them about my sudden time off. Hearing it from someone else would only make it seem worse. I stayed for dinner—more pro-active attempts on my part to quell Mom’s anxiety—ignoring the constant texts from my phone. I figured it was Sam and Gracie and that I’d fill them in on the details later.

  What I didn’t expect awaiting me at home was a bouquet of flowers along with a small pink box from my favorite bakery. The smile that spread over my face when I read the attached card from Ben made that disaster of a day a lot better. It simply stated, I’m sorry.

  Ariel raced into the kitchen, wagging her short tail and jumping to get my attention. I knelt and scooped the wiggling dog into my arms. “Hey, you. Are you being a good girl?”

  Jim walked in from the living room. “She’s been great—a real snuggler.”

  “Oh, thanks, Jim.” I set her down and opened the box. There were four cupcakes inside. I offered him one.

  Shaking his head, he held up his hands. “No, thank you. I had two from the container in the fridge. They were awesome, by the way.”

  “Thank you. I mean, for eating some. I’m nearing overload.” I frowned. “I take that back. One can never have too many cupcakes.” Inside my pack, my phone blared. “Hi, Gracie. Can you hold a minute? I want to take Ariel for a walk. We can chat while I’m out with her.”

  “Yes. But hurry. I want to know everything that happened.”

  I snapped Ariel’s leash to her collar, stepped into a cold, foggy night, and closed the door behind me. “Guess what? Ben sent me cupcakes and flowers. Cupcakes and flowers.”

  “What? Why? I mean, what?”

  “He must’ve heard about work. The attached note was an apology.”

  “Awww. How sweet is that? So tell me everything.”

  I told her, not leaving out any details.

  “Well, it sounds okay. You aren’t in trouble or anything. What are you going to do with all this time off? Christmas shopping?”

  “No.” I chuckled. “But I am going to look into some of the other properties on Mark’s list.”

  “Without us, Sam and me? I’m working through Thursday, and Sam’s on until Wednesday. Can’t you wait until we can all go?”

  “I’m sure there’ll be more to do when we can all go. But I want to get started tomorrow.”

  “Really? After what happened at the Adamses’ property? It may not be a good idea for you to go alone.”

  “I know. I’ve considered this. I’ll just be extra careful.”

  “Okay. But you need to let us know when and where you’re going. And keep your phone on. Actually, you should be talking to one of us the whole time. These are the rules.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yes. No exceptions.”

  Gracie was just worried, and she had a right to be. I understood that. Sighing, I agreed. “Fine. I’ll stick to your rules—most of them anyway.”

  I turned the corner, and headlights washed over the road behind me. I waited for a car to pass, but one never did. I stole a quick peek back. A vehicle, its form hidden in murky fog, kept pace with me about twenty yards away. “Don’t hang up, Gracie. There’s a car—going slow. I think it’s following me.”

  “How far are you from home?”

  “A couple blocks.”

  “Let me think.”

  “Hurry.”

  “Are people out in their yards? Other cars? Anything?”

  “Um, no. I don’t see anyone. But it’s really foggy.”

  In front of me, the haze parted, swirling. A shape first merged with the dense gray mist and then pushed through.

  I stopped, a gasp catching in my throat. “Gracie,” I squeaked. “Now someone is on the sidewalk in front of me.”

  Ariel’s low growl escalated to a menacing bark.

  “Is that Ariel?”

  “Yes.” My voice went an octave higher. My heart pounded and I wanted to scream, but I couldn’t.

  “Ariel. It’s just me, Ben.” His face cleared out of the fog. “Kallie, you okay?”

  My relief at seeing him almost had me on my knees. My breath returned. With my phone still held to my ear and my eyes closed, I called, “Ben hurry.”

  Trotting over, he stopped. “What’s wrong?”

  I turned as the once slow-moving truck raced past. Pointing, I stammered, “That, that truck … It, it was following me.”

  Wrapping his arm around me, Ben wh
ispered, “Let’s get you home. You’re shaking. Come on. I’ve got you.”

  “Ben, is that you? Is Kallie all right?”

  “Gracie, I’m okay. Ben’s with me. I’ll call you later.”

  “If you don’t, I will call you. Bye.”

  With my phone back in my pocket, I grabbed Ben’s hand, my fingers trembling.

  He hurried me up the sidewalk and to the front porch and pushed the door open. After sitting me at the table, Ben took care of unleashing Ariel.

  “You found her,” Jim called in a cheerful tone as he walked in. His manner and voice changed in a flash. “What happened?”

  “A truck ... followed me ... in the fog.”

  He glanced at Ben. “Did you see it? Color? Make?”

  Shaking his head, Ben brought me a glass of water. “Not really. It raced away once I caught up to her.”

  Radio in hand, Jim contacted dispatch. “Officer Madsen requesting additional patrols for my location. Standby dispatch.” He turned and rushed out the front door, finishing his conversation outside.

  Ben glanced at Jim through the kitchen window. “No more walks by yourself at night. No more walking for a while would be best. If you must, someone will be with you from now on.” His attention shifted to me. “Promise me, Kallie.” He sighed. “It may have been nothing, but until I know for sure, just please be careful.”

  The door opened, and Jim came back inside. “They’re going to increase patrols in this area.”

  “Good.” Ben nodded. “I’ll drive around—see if he comes back.” Looking at me, he smiled. “I’ll let you know if I find out anything.”

  Silver light collected at the edge of the curtains. Gray mist pressed at the windows like a thick blanket, cold and silent. The fog hadn’t lifted from the previous night.

  Curled on my spare pillow, Ella cracked one green eye open and yawned. She stretched out her front legs, pulled them back under her, and tucked her nose against her side.

  “Fine. Go back to sleep.”

  Ariel took one glance outside and chuffed, adjusting into a tighter ball.

  “You too? Well, I guess that’s for the best. After last night, no more unsupervised walks.” I pushed curls from my eyes and looked at the clock on my nightstand. “Eight? Really?” Blowing out a breath, I pulled the covers up to my chin. Ben had called at eleven. He’d found nothing, but units would continue driving by through the night. After I’d finished talking to Gracie and Sam, it was almost twelve thirty. Then I’d watched TV for another hour to wind down—Murder She Wrote on Hallmark. Not bad, really, for being up that late.

  I showered and got dressed in heavy jeans, a thick green turtleneck sweater, and hiking boots. Grabbing a dark-blue jacket from my closet, I was ready for whatever the day might bring. Now I just had to get past Jim—or whoever had the duty.

  Wiggling from ears to stubby tail, Ariel watched from the bed, anticipation dancing in her brown doggy eyes.

  “Oh, Ariel. Not now. Later. When I get back.” Smiling, I added, “Maybe Ben will go with us.” I patted my thigh. “Come on. I’ll take you out back.”

  Sitting at the kitchen table with his laptop open and notebook and pen ready, Jim never questioned where I was going when I fixed a coffee to go and grabbed a granola bar from the cupboard.

  Hmmm. Easier than I thought.

  In my truck, I opened my pack and dug out the list of the other R and A victims. “Victims?” I chuffed. “Yes.” I texted Gracie and Sam: On my way to the Green Springs Hwy. I’ll keep my phone on. I set the GPS, started the engine, and backed out, turning left at the light below my house.

  I got four text alerts, probably from Sam and Gracie, before I lost cell service. At least I was above the fog and in weak sunshine filtering through wispy clouds. I shrugged. “I’ll reply when I get there—if I can.” I straightened my shoulders and watched the road wind into the forests ahead. “No. I’ll be able to. It’s good.” Instead of listening to another alphabet mystery, I opted for Hank the Cowdog, the Christmas Turkey Disaster, by John R. Erickson. Those books always get me laughing. About the time little Albert was attempting to rope Pete the cat, a task Hank encouraged, my GPS chimed, “Destination is on the right.”

  I saw nothing—not even a deer trail snaking through the buck brush. Slowing, I crept farther up what remained of the patchy asphalt. I watched my rearview mirror for cars, but there were none. In fact, I hadn’t seen another vehicle for at least the last fifteen minutes. “Very remote.” Twenty yards ahead, the sparse asphalt ended and the dirt road narrowed. To the right and through the trees, I made out a rutted, washed-out path just wide enough for a single vehicle. I switched off Hank and headed toward the only right turn in sight, hoping my truck could handle the old trail. It swept into a tight curve, and I stopped a hundred feet in, the main road no longer visible through the dense forest. This path, unlike the well-maintained gravel road leading to the Adamses, had no signs of recent use.

  On my left the trees thinned and a shallow canyon appeared through swaying limbs. I continued, bouncing and bumping along, the steering wheel jerking from one side to the other. “It might be faster to walk,” I mumbled, jaw tight so I wouldn’t bite my tongue. But it wasn’t a decision I needed to think about for long. The road ended feet ahead, the tree line blocking what was left of the road. “If you want to call this a road.” I stopped and looked at the forest closing in on me. Mist swirled among thick trunks and waving limbs, glowing a pale silver when it reached the rare patches of faint sunlight. I saw no way to turn around. “Great. I’ll have to back out of here.” I sat there, considering my options and listening to the wind sigh through the tops of tall pines, cedars, and firs.

  “Well, do something, Kallie.” Without even thinking about it, I grabbed the door handle and pushed, the squeak of old hinges hidden by a sudden gust. I swung myself outside, boots landing in a thick layer of needles. My hair flitted across my face, so I grabbed a scrunchie from the dash and captured the curls in a long ponytail. Hit by the intense scent of the forest—the mingled aroma of trees and musky, damp earth—I took in a deep breath, smiled, and relished the cool, misty wind on my face. A loud, echoing bang, followed by three more in quick succession, broke the moment. I froze and determined the direction of the noise—the canyon. It wasn’t gunshots. But it wasn’t natural either. It seemed mechanical. “Someone is out here,” I whispered.

  I unplugged my phone from the charger and checked cell service. It was sketchy, but at least there was something. Gracie and Sam had texted—the general subject the same. Be careful. Call when you get home. Don’t take any chances. And from Sam, I’ve got a bad feeling about this. I answered that I’d arrived, gave them my coordinates, and silenced the phone. The text took a while to get through, but it did eventually send. That alone made me a little more confident.

  Listening to every sound, I stepped to the edge of the trees. I stayed behind a thick trunk and peered toward the bottom of the wide canyon floor, maybe a hundred feet deep. My gaze swept left and then right and stopped. At the side of a rectangular wood-framed building tucked in the shadows of the canyon walls sat two vehicles—a white truck and a dark van. On the far edge, a graveled road wound down the steep embankment. From my position, I couldn’t see much—just the building and the all-too-familiar vehicles.

  This was no longer a coincidence. R and A had something going on with the properties they stole from decent, well-meaning people. But what? “It has to be drugs, but—”

  Bang. Bang. Bang. From inside the building, the sound echoed off the canyon walls. The thrum of a generator cycling on chugged on the far side of the structure.

  “Okay. They’re building something.” I glanced behind and around me and then back down the canyon. “But what?”

  Two men emerged carrying a shiny metal cylinder the size of those large thermoses they have at football games.

  “Something
liquid?”

  The men lifted the container into the bed of the truck. Hands on hips, they looked toward the forest on my side of the canyon.

  I stepped into the shadows and shifting limbs, my back against rough bark. “They didn’t see me. They couldn’t have.” My tone was that of a whispered prayer. Looking at my dark clothing, I chuckled. “At least I dressed for the mission.” With slow movements, I peeked around the tree. The men leaned against the rear side panel of the truck, staring at the serpentine gravel road.

  “Waiting. For what? Or who?”

  A gust raced from the far side, carrying the low rumble of an engine in my direction. An approaching vehicle flashed through swaying branches in the forest above. A silver Jeep snaked a slow path, settling out of sight behind the building. The two men pushed off the truck and disappeared, joining the new arrival. With a quick expiratory wheeze and a pop, the generator stopped.

  Stepping deeper into the woods to my right, I tried to get a better visual at what I assumed was the front of the building. A hundred feet farther along, I reached a copse of cedars, and a clear line of sight to the front. Another barn-type door with two parts that slid in opposite directions on top runners was closed. If they’d been open, I wouldn’t have seen much anyway. “Too far away. Binoculars would be handy. Note—pack binoculars for next time.” Patting my pocket, I freed my phone. “Maybe some pictures would help.” I checked the time. It was eleven thirty. I sat cross-legged on a cushion of cedar boughs, making sure I had a good view through the low branches. I didn’t have to wait long.

  The previous two men carried out another cylinder, set it in the bed, and closed the tailgate.

  I snapped off a series of photos, the image magnified. “Okay. You’re loaded and ready to go.” Not in any position to follow them, I sighed. “Where are you going from here? The Adamses’ property? Or does it come from there to this location? Are these disbursement sites or some kind of assembly line?” I scooted forward a few inches, holding a branch to steady the constant swaying, and leaned in for a better view. The third person came out the doors, pulled them closed, and adjusted a chain and padlock.