Dogs Don't Lie Page 2

  Detective Jacobson crept toward the bone at my feet. He pulled a glove from a pocket, ready to pick it up. “He’s not going to, uh, bite me, is he?”

  Hooking my fingers under the dog’s collar, I led him a couple feet away. A brass plate attached to the collar was engraved with “Stanley”. “His name is Stanley, and he’s fine. He’s not the one with a gun.” I tipped my head. “I’m sorry. Look, he’ll show us where the rest of the bones are when you’re ready. And by the way, it is human.”

  “Stanley will?” His pinched expression hardened. “Do I need to ask how you know it is in fact human and why you know where to find more, Dr. Collins?” Frowning, Detective Jacobson waved the other two over.

  “I don’t. Stanley does.”

  “You expect me to believe … what? That Stanley told you all this?”

  “Hold on.” I scowled at him. Dimples or not, I wasn’t going to let him mock me or Stanley. “You called for my help. Remember? I didn’t come here on my own. And, yes, in a way he did.”

  “Right.” Even when he sneered, his dimples showed.

  “It’s not that weird. Lots of people can do this. I took a class a few years ago on animal communication—learned how to listen and respond to them.” I shook my head, dismissing his skepticism. “It’s all about images and being open and receptive, and believing what comes through.” Looking up into his intense green eyes, I bit at my lower lip. “I don’t know how else to explain it.”

  Still glaring at me, he nodded. “Okay. For now. Where? How far?”

  “Just a minute.” Making that connection with Stanley again, I pictured fields and fences.

  Stanley twisted to the left, and the images came. Three fields about this size, fences, jump a ditch, one more field and fence. Another ditch. Bones.

  I sighed out a long breath. “Maybe half a mile.” I pointed. “That direction.”

  Detective Jacobson pressed a button on the side of a walkie he’d taken from another pocket. “Brent, bring me an evidence bag and contact the CSU. Let them know this isn’t the primary crime scene. We’ll give them an update when we have the location.

  Brent’s voice came back, static scraping at his words. “Copy. Since I didn’t hear a shot, I take it the doc was successful?”

  Glancing at me sideways, Detective Jacobson pushed the button again. “Affirmative.” He tucked the walkie away again.

  Hands on hips, I frowned at him.

  At my side, Stanley barked out one short accusing “Woof.”

  Chapter 2

  Stanley bounded ahead through the field, turning every so often, wagging his tail and barking, urging us to hurry. At a low spot in the ground beneath the fence, Stanley slipped under the woven wire and stood still, nose up, sniffing the air.

  “How are we supposed to get over the fence?” Jacobson wiped sweat from his forehead and surveyed the length of the barrier. “Is there a gate?”

  The female deputy chuckled. “Come on, Ben. I’ll show you how to get over.”

  “How about a gate? Better yet, a paved road. I’d settle for a dirt road or even a path.”

  “City boy,” she mumbled, smiling at him.

  Standing on a grassy mound next to a drooping section of barbed wire, I pushed the sagging strands down, threw one leg over, and hopped, landing unscathed on the other side.

  “Come here, Ben.” The deputy tried to hide her grin. She held the loose lines close to the woven wire part of the fence.

  “No. No. I can do this by myself.” He glanced at me and the patrolman standing next to me on the other side of the fence. “If she can do it—you’re, what, five-four?”

  “Yeah, and you’re six-one? So?” I couldn’t control my spreading smile.

  He strode to the fence, close to the spot I’d climbed over. Fingers grasping the barbed wire, he jerked back. “Ouch.” He examined his hand, shook it, and, looking down, grabbed the fence again. Swinging one leg over, he straddled the wires.

  I noticed that his shiny black loafers weren’t so clean anymore. And he’d just settled one shoe in a fresh cow pie hidden in the tall grass at the edge of the fence.

  “Great.” He held up the foot covered in a sticky green goo and started to wobble. His balance on the clod of grassy dirt failing, he set his foot again, careful to avoid the landmine. In a quick jump-hobble-hop, his pant cuff caught on a barb. He jerked, and the sound of ripping cloth followed. Touching down two feet from the fence, he examined the small tear and then wiped his mucky shoe on a clump of grass.

  “Are you okay?” I tried to keep the chuckle out of my voice, but I failed.

  Brushing his hands, he smirked. “I’m fine. Thank you.”

  We managed the next three fences and two ditches without any further mishaps.

  His movements wary, Stanley approached the edge of the ditch and whined, pawing at the loose soil.

  I took a step closer, standing behind Jacobson and the female deputy. Peering between them, I stared down into slow-moving water. The empty eye sockets of a human skull stared back at me. Retreating, I gasped. “Okay. If you don’t need me, I’ll take Stanley home now.”

  “Wait. I’m still not completely buying Stanley told you—But how—” His brilliant green eyes narrowed and he shook his head, staring at me. “You did follow the dog.”

  I stuffed my hands in my pockets. “No, I followed you, and you followed Stanley. So how do you explain that?”

  Detective Jacobson continued to stare at me, his glare piercing. He glanced at Stanley, reached down, and scratched behind the dog’s ears. “You did get him to give up the bone, too. I saw that.” He straightened and looked around at cross-fenced pastures.

  The female deputy tipped her head. “Are you like a dog whisperer or something?”

  “Not exactly. I took a class on animal communication and was good at it.” I nodded. “Am good at it. And, being a vet, it comes in handy. And it’s not just dogs, but all animals.” Heat rushed up my neck and into my cheeks.

  “I’ve heard about that. There was a woman in Portland … helped out sometimes at the zoo. Saw it in the paper.” She looked at me and nodded. “So, it really works.”

  I shrugged. “Most of the time. It’s just like people, though—not everyone wants to talk.”

  She keyed the mic secured on the epaulet of her khaki uniform shirt. “Brent, I’m sending you GPS coordinates. We’re behind a barn about a half mile west of your position. We’ll need crime-scene tape, and let the CSU know.”

  Between blasts of static, Brent answered, “Copy. On my way.”

  Jacobson stepped back, motioning me to follow. “Too bad Stanley can’t tell us who this is, how they got here, and why.” His eyebrows rose, and he watched me.

  The heat of his stare made me uneasy. I shifted from one foot to the other, my gaze drifting to Stanley. “It might be possible to find out, if he knows.”

  “Can you ask him?” He smiled.

  “Are you making fun of what I do, or do you believe me now?”

  “’Believe’ might be a stretch. Let’s just say I don’t think you had anything to do with this body or how it got here.”

  A line of official vehicles turned into the long driveway at the front of the property. An older man, bald head reflecting the bright sunlight, walked from the back of the barn and toward the impromptu meeting taking place in the pasture.

  Probably his pasture.

  “Looks like I’m on.” Jacobson took a step, stopped, and pivoted to face me. “Thanks for your help, Doctor Collins.” He smiled, green eyes sparkling. “And thank Stanley for me, too.” Head tipped, he pointed at my shirt. “You have a little something there. Barbeque sauce?”

  “Oooo. A man who knows his sauce.” I fanned my face with my hand and chuckled.

  Chapter 3

  The Imperial March blared from my phone, startling a woman
standing at the front desk who was obviously not a Star Wars fan. The Chihuahua in her arms began to shake. “Sorry.” I grimaced, tossed the chart I was reading to the counter, and pulled the phone out of my pocket. “Gracie, hi.”

  My best friend screeched in my ear, loud enough that I didn’t need to hold the phone close or have it on speaker. “Why didn’t you tell me you found a dead body?”

  The woman with the skittish little dog took a step back, her eyes wide. “I’ll just be … sitting … over … here.” Cradling him, she dashed away, craning her neck to glare back at me.

  “Hold on,” I whispered at a still-questioning Gracie. Hurrying to the nearest empty exam room, chased by Eric’s laughter, I closed the door behind me. “How did you find out?”

  “It’s all over the news.”

  “How did they find out?”

  “I don’t know. A PR rep was giving the reporters a statement.”

  “Which channel?”

  “All of them. They said the body was found outside Eagle Point over the weekend—and that along with a team of officers, a local veterinarian, Dr. K. Collins, aided in the investigation.”

  My phone beeped, alerting me to another call—my mother. “I’ll have to call you back.”

  “Your mom?”

  “Yup.”

  “Good luck. And you better call me. ASAP.”

  “I will. Tonight.” I switched lines. “Hello, Mom.”

  Sticking his head into the room, Eric said, “You have a call on line two. It’s your police friends.”

  “Kallie, dear, what’s this about you finding a body?”

  I gave Eric a thumbs up, and he disappeared through the closing door. “Mom, I can’t talk right now. I’ll call you tonight, okay?”

  “Your father is very concerned. He’s worried about you. You need to call me back.”

  “I promise. And don’t worry. I’ll talk to you later.” I tapped end call and picked up the phone in the exam room, punching the blinking button. “Hello. Dr. Collins speaking.”

  “Dr. Collins, this is Detective Jacobson. I’m calling to give you a heads up. We’ve released information on the body found outside Eagle Point Saturday and your name—”

  “Too late.”

  “What?”

  “It’s already on the TV news.”

  “Umm, it’s only four.”

  “Yeah, well, one station does an early newscast at that time. They’re probably running it as breaking news, and the other stations, not to be outdone, are interrupting their regular programs with the headline.”

  “I didn’t know that. Sorry. But in my defense, I just found out myself.” He took in a deep breath and let it out in a long sigh. “Any problems yet?”

  “Well, my mom called, demanding to know why I was involved.”

  “Uh oh. Again, sorry.”

  “That’s okay. Have you found out who it is?” I rubbed my forehead. “Never mind. I know you can’t say.”

  “Not yet. I’ll let you know when I can. By the way, how’s Stanley?”

  “Ah, Stanley.” I chuckled. “He’s good. His family was glad to see him. Seems he keeps digging out of the yard. They’re going to work on that.”

  “Well, thanks again, Doc.”

  “You’re welcome, Detective.”

  “Call me Ben.”

  “Okay, Ben. I’m Kallie.”

  “Kallie, thanks. I’ll call you. I mean, to let you know what’s happening in the case. You know … when I can.”

  “Sure. Thanks, Ben. Bye.” I hung up, my stomach doing those crazy somersaults again, but not the bad kind this time. Chuckling, I mumbled to the empty room, “Well, he is cute. And kinda nerdy. I like that in a man.”

  After a long conversation with my parents, and assuring them repeatedly I was never in any danger, I arranged to meet Gracie and Sam, my two best buds since college, at Rockin’ Rodeo. It’s a family-friendly bar and grill that, oh happy coincidence, has line dancing on Tuesday and Thursday evenings.

  We ordered burgers, sweet-potato fries, and iced tea. After the server left, they both turned on me, demanding every detail.

  I started from the beginning, including my mom’s attempt to set me up with Eddie.

  Our meals came.

  They ate.

  I talked, finishing with the phone call from Ben.

  Gracie dipped a fry in a small bowl of honey-mustard sauce. She held it halfway to her lips and stared at me, her hazel eyes bright with curiosity. “So are you going to see him again?”

  Frowning, I shrugged. “What? Stanley? I doubt it.”

  Sam almost spit out a mouthful of iced tea. She tossed long blond hair over one shoulder, grabbed a napkin, and wiped her lips. “Ben. Sheesh, girl.”

  “Oh. I don’t know. Probably not. I mean, I’d like to know what they find out, but I guess all that will be on the news.” I hadn’t said anything about how cute I thought Ben was—well, nothing about his dimples and those intense green eyes anyway. Okay. Stop already. Am I that obvious?

  Sam and Gracie looked at each other and shook their heads.

  “What?” I muttered around a mouthful of bacon cheeseburger. My phone vibrated against the table. Chewing and licking ketchup from my fingers, I picked it up. A number I didn’t recognize showed at the top of the screen. I swallowed and swiped. “Hello?”

  “Hey, it’s Ben. Sorry to bother you.”

  “No, Ben. Hi. This is fine. What’s up?”

  Gracie mouthed, “Put him on speaker.” Brown chin-length hair was swinging with her enthusiastic nodding.

  Her brown eyes wide, Sam clapped her hands.

  I shook my head, placing a finger over my lips to quiet them.

  “I need you. I mean, the department needs your assistance again. We’ve found the deceased’s home and family. I know you’re not on duty, but your boss said he’ll authorize your overtime and travel. Will you help? I’ll give you the location.”

  “Sure. Just a minute.” I dug through my bag for a pen and a piece of paper. “Go ahead. What’s the address?”

  “It’s out in the hills beyond Ashland. The address is a little confusing. Can I text you GPS coordinates?”

  “Yes, I can do that.” My phone buzzed and a line of numbers showed up. “Got it.”

  “Good. See you in an hour?”

  “On my way.” I lowered the phone and then pulled it back up. “Wait. Ben?”

  “I’m here.”

  “What is it? I mean, is everything okay?”

  “I need your animal-communication skills again. You see, there’s this cat …”

  Chapter 4

  The warm fall sunshine of the day gave way to a chilly evening. The farther I got from the city, the brighter the stars shone, winking into view against the velvety backdrop of a cold night sky. I lost service as I entered the hills and picked it back up about fifteen miles later. The road narrowed to one lane. Tall trees leaned out over switchback curves. Headlights pierced the dark, illuminating a short forward swath of pavement and dirt shoulder. Dark encompassed me from both sides.

  Kinsey Millhone, that small-town gumshoe from the alphabet mysteries books by Sue Grafton, whispered from my speakers as she hid in a dumpster from the killer stalking her.

  “Perfect.” I sighed and glanced right and then left out the side windows. Shadows grew and jumped as I slowed for another hairpin turn. “Kinsey will be okay. I’m only halfway through the alphabet. She’s fine. I am, too.” So I continued to listen and drive up the dark, winding, tree-covered road to nowhere. “Not nowhere—to the possible scene of a murder.”

  A blink of red flickered ahead between low limbs. Around another sharp curve, more lights appeared, red and blue, flashing in the dark like a beacon of safety.

  I let out a long breath I hadn’t realized I’d held. “Sheesh, K
allie. Get a grip.” Pulling to the side of an Oregon State cruiser, I stopped. An officer in uniform stood guard at the end of a long uphill drive, keeping out the curious or any news reporters that might venture that far.

  But I didn’t see Ben. I peered up the long dark driveway. “Probably at the house,” I muttered. “At least I hope there’s a house, somewhere.”

  A hand appeared in my peripheral vision and tapped on my window. Jumping, I stifled a scream that came out in a high-pitched squeal. Clutching at my chest, I rolled down the glass.

  Ben hid a smile. “I didn’t mean to scare you.” He controlled the grin and opened the door.

  “It’s okay. It was just a creepy drive.” I climbed out of my truck, slipped into a hooded sweatshirt I’d pulled from behind the seat, and looked around. “Wherever this is.”

  “Yeah. I should’ve warned you. Pretty remote area.”

  “No. You told me—the confusing address. I get it.” I squinted into the dark past the cruiser, its light bars blinking with a rapid ticking. Beams in the distance lit glimpses of low brush but nothing else. “Is there a house? Where is this cat? Is she okay?”

  “I’ll walk you up, but I need you to stay outside until we’re finished talking to the family.” Ben motioned for me to follow him.

  “Sure. Of course. I can’t imagine having to break the news that someone has died.”

  Ben stopped and looked at me. “It’s never easy. We don’t have DNA confirmation yet, or dental records—just a wallet with Mr. Whedon’s identification inside.” He gestured up the hill. “But I think they expected this outcome. They reported him missing over a year ago.”

  We continued up a steep drive. Glancing at him, I noticed Ben wasn’t wearing a suit. Instead, he wore a brown leather jacket over a light-colored button shirt, blue jeans, and boots. Maybe the last outing had him rethinking his wardrobe choices. Remembering his shoe landing in the cow pie, I bit at my lip to stop from smiling.