Horse of a Different Killer Page 8

  “Move, you beast,” she said, and nudged his flank with her thigh. With a low grumble, he allowed her to push past.

  “Brave,” Hugh said, with open admiration. For all the times he’d made suggestive comments or given me a roguish smile, I’d never seen him look at anyone the way he looked at Emma.

  “He can’t hurt me,” my sister said, brushing white fur off the skirt of her dress. “Grace wouldn’t let him.”

  I made a rude noise, but neither Emma nor Hugh seemed to notice. They were both too involved in checking each other out.

  I couldn’t blame them. They made a cosmically good-looking couple.

  “You got with Kendall, right?” my sister asked as she lifted her purse from its spot next to mine on the entry table.

  “Yep.”

  “See? I knew you could do it.” Emma gave me a hug and murmured against my ear, “Don’t wait up.” She pulled back with a wink, looped her arm through Hugh’s, and sauntered out the door. It closed quietly in my face.

  “No, I didn’t have anything I wanted to tell you,” I said to the closed door, suddenly a little disappointed.

  Moss came to stand at my side and nudged my hand with his muzzle.

  Okay?

  “Yeah, I’m fine. Just kind of wanted to—”

  Before I could finish my thought, he caught the scent of lingering barn odors wafting in the air around me and became fixated on sniffing.

  “I guess that means I need to shower,” I said.

  It was probably too late to call Kai and ask him over for dinner. What would I make, anyway?

  “Maybe I could order pizza,” I said to Moss.

  Pizza. He swished his tail in agreement. Moss always appreciated pizza.

  If I timed it right, I could call for a pizza, text an invite to Kai, and be in and out of the shower before either arrived. Thanks to the new waterproof supercase Emma had gotten me, I could even text Kai while I was in the shower.

  Grabbing my phone from my purse, I ordered a large half veggie and cheese, half supreme. Refilling my wineglass, and ignoring my dog’s continued sniffing, I was just turning down the hall when there was a knock at the door.

  Moss let out a distracted half bark and zeroed in on something on the toe of my shoe.

  As I often did, I paused to consider answering the door. It couldn’t be the pizza already and Emma had a key. I shrugged. Whoever it was could come back.

  In my room, I took off my shoes and socks, kicking them into the corner to encourage Moss to sniff them somewhere out of the way. I had dropped my T-shirt on the floor when I heard the knock again. Then the doorbell rang. Growling, I snatched the shirt off the floor, yanked it back on, and stomped through the condo to the front door to pull it open with a scowl.

  It was Kai.

  “Oh—I, um . . .”

  “Sorry to just drop by,” he said.

  “It’s okay. I was getting in the shower. But I was going to text you.”

  “You were going to text me while you were in the shower?”

  “Well, yeah. I smell like farm animals and I ordered pizza, so . . . That came out wrong. Come in.”

  “You sure?” he asked as he stepped into the foyer. “You seem a little annoyed.”

  “I am. But not with you,” I added hastily. “My sister went on a date with Hugh.”

  “And that bothers you?”

  “I wanted to talk to her about some stuff and she goes out to have fun.” I stopped. Frowned. “Wow, that sounded really bratty, didn’t it?”

  “A little,” he said with a teasing smile.

  I led him into the kitchen and held up the bottle of wine.

  “Deblubles?” I massacred the name.

  “Can’t. I’m on call. I’ll take a Coke if you’ve got one.”

  “Sure.” As I was poking my head in the fridge to grab the soda, I noticed my shirt was inside out.

  And backward.

  “Um . . . here.” I handed him the can of Coke and walked out of the kitchen. “I’ll be right back.”

  Zipping back into my room, I yanked off the shirt, turned it right-side out with a snap, and tugged it back on.

  I was glad Kai had decided he wanted to date me before he’d realized what a bobblehead I could be.

  Spotting my glass of wine where I’d left it on the dresser, I snatched it up and took a deep swig. With a forced sigh, I squared my shoulders and walked back to the kitchen.

  Moss had decided to harass Kai and was standing in the entrance to the kitchen, glaring at him.

  Cut it out, Moss.

  I nudged him on the rump and moved past.

  “Why does he do that?” Kai asked. “Does he want something?”

  “Yes. To prove he’s manlier than you.”

  “No contest—I’ve seen his teeth.”

  “Just ignore him and he’ll stop.”

  “What if I give him a treat or something?”

  Treat? Treat!

  Moss sidled up to nudge under my hand.

  “Because,” I said to Kai, “giving positive reinforcement for negative behavior is a no-no.” I said the last part looking pointedly at my dog.

  Please, treat?

  When I ignored his request, he tacked on an image of Kai giving him the treat. Friends.

  “You are so full of it,” I told him.

  “What?” Kai asked, looking from me to my dog.

  Before I could answer, Moss stepped up to Kai, tail swishing gently, sat at perfect attention, and cocked his head.

  Brows arched, Kai looked down at Moss then up at me. A slow grin pulled one corner of his mouth into a lopsided smile.

  I shook my head.

  Just to drive it home, Moss placed one giant wolf-paw on Kai’s knee and made what I like to call the Hopeful, Hero-Worship Face.

  “Am I supposed to resist this?” Kai asked, gesturing with his can of Coke.

  “No, you’re not.” I let out a belly breath and leaned against the counter.

  Treat! Moss repositioned his paw, gently tapping Kai’s leg twice before letting it drop to the ground. He cocked his head to the other side and let out a pitiful whine.

  “Come on, Grace.”

  “Oh, good grief,” I said, giving in. “Top shelf of the pantry.”

  Kai found the treats, opened the box, and handed one to Moss, who took it gently and trotted into the living room to enjoy his victory.

  Voodoo, who’d been crouched near the base of the cabinets, leapt out at Moss as he passed.

  Ha! Mine! The kitten clasped her claws in the fur of Moss’s tail and hung on for the ride.

  “I was being manipulated, wasn’t I?” Kai asked when I turned back to him.

  “Don’t feel bad,” I told him. “Happens to me all the time.”

  I took another sip of wine, nearly polishing off the glass. Kai noticed, picked up the bottle, and gave me a refill.

  “So,” he said. “You were saying something about farm animals.”

  “To be clear, I tried to ask the humans about Heart—that’s Jasmine’s horse—first. But the kid I talked to didn’t know anything and when I tried to ask another guy, Cappy fainted, which distracted me.”

  “Who fainted?”

  “Sorry, Cappy’s a myotonic goat.”

  “A what?”

  “A goat. They’re called fainting goats or stiff-leg goats. They don’t really faint though, it’s a type of muscle malfunction. Their muscles are hyperexcitable. You know how if you’re startled, your muscles will tense up right before you react?”

  He nodded.

  “Well, these guys tense up but they can’t relax.”

  “And they fall over?”

  “Sometimes. Depends on the goat.” I shrugged. “This one did. I thought I’d given him a heart attack bef
ore I realized what was going on. By that time, the other guy who might’ve had information on Jasmine’s horse was gone. But I did have a chance to talk to Minerva, and she told me she definitely remembered a solid black horse being in the stables recently.”

  “Minerva would be?”

  “A calico. She also said some other weird things. I’m not sure what they mean, if anything. But I’m definitely on the right track.” I raised my wineglass in a self-salute. “I’m going to prove Heart is in the country and I can’t wait to see the look on Detective Boyle’s face when I do.”

  “Actually, that’s why I came by,” Kai said.

  I waited.

  “I need to explain a few things about Detective Boyle. She and I have been friends for a long time.”

  “Friends? She wasn’t being very friendly with you yesterday.”

  “Yeah, well, Tammy’s sort of pissed at me right now.”

  “Tammy? Really? She seems—I don’t know—more like a Maleficent or a Bellatrix.”

  “She’s really not like that.”

  “Like what?” I asked, my temper stirring. “Like a woman who bullies and lies to people? Because in my experience, that’s exactly what she’s like.”

  “Okay.” He held his hands up in surrender. “Just listen for a minute.”

  I raised my brows and waited.

  “Have you ever heard of Occam’s razor?”

  “Ocular what?”

  “Occam’s razor. It’s the theory that the simplest solution to a problem is usually the correct one.”

  “Oh, right.” I hadn’t been aware it had a name.

  “Detective Boyle is a fan.”

  “You’re not?”

  “When it comes to certain scientific theories, no. But in regards to investigations and police work, I’d say the rule often applies.”

  “So because Emma was at the crime scene and because she’s Ortega’s ex-wife, Boyle is willing to believe she killed him, without looking at anyone else? That’s not just simple it’s lazy.”

  “Tammy’s not lazy. She’s a good cop.”

  The fact that he was defending her rankled.

  A little voice in my head reminded me that Kai hadn’t been at Ortega’s house and hadn’t witnessed Boyle’s callous and dismissive actions.

  He heaved out a sigh.

  “I’m not explaining this very well.”

  I had to agree with him there.

  “Occam’s razor is just part of it. She’s also tends to be a little hyperfocused and suspicious.

  “Four years ago when Charles Sartori was put away for fraud, it came out that he had some connections in the sheriff’s office.”

  “Not surprising.”

  “Well, Tammy and her partner were both under investigation.”

  “Like you were?” I asked, feeling a little spear of guilt poke my gut at the thought. Kai had gotten involved with the mob boss because I had asked for help.

  He nodded. “When it turned out her partner was in Sartori’s pocket, they really put the screws to her.”

  “Guilt by association.”

  “Right. The heat on me is nothing like what she went through.”

  I took a moment to think about his words. “I thought you were done with all that.”

  He blinked at me, brows drawing together.

  “You said, ‘is’ not ‘was,’ implying there’s still something going on,” I explained.

  He shrugged off my concern. “It’s not,” he said. “But Tammy thinks . . .”

  “What?” I asked when he didn’t continue. “Not that you’re involved with Sartori?”

  He shook his head slowly. The wine must have been making me slow, because it took me a while to get what he was implying.

  “She thinks I’m involved with Sartori,” I said, slowly. “Doesn’t she know I helped catch the bad guys?”

  “Not all of them.”

  “You’re talking about Logan.” I didn’t phrase it as a question because I knew the answer. “Really? A guy nicknamed the Ghost eludes capture and she thinks that’s somehow my fault?”

  “She also knows Logan contacted you after he got away.”

  I wanted to defend myself. Point out that Logan, AKA the Ghost, was tying up loose ends under Sartori’s orders, which involved me only situationally. But something else popped into my head.

  “Let me get this straight. Boyle, a woman who was judged harshly because of her association with her guilty partner, is ready to vilify me because of my . . . association, however remote, with Logan? Am I the only one who gets the irony here?”

  “I hear you,” Kai said, and I realized my voice had been rising steadily. I forced a slow breath and reminded myself not to kill the messenger.

  I frowned at my wineglass and set it on the counter.

  “The thing is,” Kai said, “Tammy stuck by her partner until the end. She was a hundred percent convinced he couldn’t possibly be involved.”

  “And she thinks you’re blinded by my charm?” I’d meant it sarcastically. Just about everyone who meets me finds me lacking in the charm department.

  But Kai’s gaze held enough heat to burn the house down around us as it locked on to mine. “Something like that.”

  I cleared my throat. “What about Jake?”

  “Jake is playing it close to the vest.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Meaning even though he expressed his belief that you’re not the Mafia type, he wasn’t as”—Kai paused, giving me a wry half smile—“vehement as I was.”

  “I get where she’s coming from, Kai. But I’m still going to look for Heart.”

  “I’m not saying you should back off. In fact, I think you should look for him. The truth is, Jake and Tammy are going to be focused on solving Ortega’s murder. A missing horse is going to be put on the back burner.”

  Though I appreciated his honesty, it didn’t make me feel much better.

  “The owner of R-n-R wasn’t around today but I’m going to head back tomorrow and talk to him and see what I can find out from the horses.”

  His phone buzzed in his pocket. He checked the screen and said, “I’ve got to go. Let me know what happens after you talk to Mister Ed.”

  “Their names are Scout and Lucy,” I told him as I walked him out.

  “Of course they are,” he said, turning as we reached the front door. He leaned down to brush a kiss first on my cheek then on my jawline. He stopped and pulled in a deep breath. The sensation sent a shiver of electricity down my side. “Just so we’re clear—I like the way you smell.”

  And he was gone.

  I don’t know how long I stood there, weak-kneed and flushed, but a knock at the door had me snatching it open. I half expected to see Kai, but that was just wine and desire fogging my brain. I must have looked a little crazed because the pizza delivery guy took a step back when he saw me.

  The pizza smelled good, not that I was terribly hungry, having filled up a little too much on wine and not enough Kai.

  I shared a slice with Moss anyway and tried to process what Kai had told me.

  Not that he liked the way I smelled, though I replayed his words over and over with a goofy smile on my face as I headed to the bathroom to finally take my shower.

  I understood Boyle’s suspicions, but still didn’t think it gave her the right to dismiss the fact that Heart was missing.

  Suddenly, I remembered I hadn’t listened to the last message Ortega had left me, the one from the day before—the morning he was killed.

  I stared at his number on my voice mail for a few moments, then tapped the screen to play the message.

  Ortega’s voice filled the room, echoing off the marble and glass.

  “Grace, I know what you must think of me, and I deserve it. But, please, call me as soon as you c
an. This isn’t just about me, it’s about Emma.”

  CHAPTER 7

  It was a stunning, mild, November morning. Waves glittered as they swept over the beach. The rising sun turned the wet sand along the water’s edge into a wide ribbon of glowing, orange light.

  I should have taken more than a millisecond to admire the sight, but my head ached from too much wine and my shoes seemed to be lined with lead.

  The beautiful weather was not lost on the rest of the population, however, and there was a plethora of people and dogs out and about. I looped Moss’s leash around my wrist and gripped it tightly. Distracted or not, today was not the day to have him running loose.

  Usually, my sister was up and annoying me as early as possible. But Emma had still been asleep when Moss and I had left for our run. Her delayed start to the day meant two things: no pre-run coffee for me—I couldn’t convince Moss to wait while I got a pot going—and I still hadn’t had a chance to discuss Ortega’s message.

  It nagged at me like a sore hangnail.

  What could he have meant? He and Emma were no longer connected—Wes had seen to that. The divorce had severed every tie. They didn’t co-own property or a business. How could anything Ortega was involved in pertain to Emma?

  I’d wanted to call as soon as I’d heard the message but rather than interrupt her date with Hugh, I’d decided to leave her a note in the kitchen.

  E—Need to talk re: Ortega!!!

  Adding plenty of exclamation points and underlines for emphasis.

  I also needed to talk to her about a dozen other things, not the least of which was what happened at Ortega’s murder scene.

  Looking forward to coffee, ibuprofen, and an overdue conversation with my sister, I turned Moss toward home.

  The pit bull came out of nowhere.

  A blur of muscle and smooth, fawn-colored fur, he hit Moss square in the side. The blow caught us both off guard. Moss stumbled but recovered quickly. He spun with a growl.

  Reflexively, I opened my mind completely and hurled it into the fray. Stupid.

  A wave of pure joy hit me. Energetic enough to make me stagger sideways, the emotion inspired a fit of near-psychotic-sounding giggles to erupt from my throat.