7:29. Shoot—Jake would arrive at any minute.
She scribbled a quick note on a Post-it, slapped it on the front door, and then
ran for the woods separating her house from Mickey’s. When she found that dog,
she was going to strangle him. And if she ever had to board the demon again,
she was going to demand hazard pay.
“Here, Brutus! Come on, Brutus!
Dinner…”
• •
Pressing his finger to the doorbell
again, Jake tried to peer through the glass blocks bordering Emma’s front door.
No movement inside.
He stepped back and looked around.
If she was trying to convince him that she wasn’t home, she should have hid her
car and the two others parked in her driveway. Maybe she wasn’t trying to duck
him but was out back.
Emma wasn’t in the backyard,
either, but he did find Cynthia Monroe there, looking put-out. “What are you
doing here?” she said with the casual rudeness that teenagers seemed to master
effortlessly. She looked older than that, though, so maybe she was just holding
on to bad manners for nostalgia’s sake.
“Looking for Emma. Have you seen
her?”
“No.” And Cynthia placed her hands
on her hips, as if waiting for him to leave.
He made a big production of looking
around. “What about Ian?”
She widened her eyes innocently.
“What about him?”
“Where is he?”
“Out with Emma, I suppose.”
“Their cars are here,” Jake pointed
out. What did this girl have against him, anyway? “They can’t be that far
away.”
“Oh. I didn’t notice.”
Yeah, right.
He almost asked her to give Emma
the message that he was going next door to Mickey’s, then reconsidered. Given
her surliness, the likelihood of that message being delivered seemed small.
Well, he could wait, too. He didn’t
have much desire to do it with Cynthia, though.
Circling the house, he returned to
his car to grab his cell phone. While he was waiting, he could call his parents
and give them an update. He’d found a lawyer he had more faith in, and the
police hadn’t come to the office this afternoon. The day had ended brighter
than it had begun.
A bit of yellow on the front
doorstep caught his eye as he passed. He grabbed the scrap of paper. J— Out catching the dog. Call me: 679-3303.
Smiling, Jake dialed Emma’s number.
“Hello?” She sounded breathless.
“Hi, it’s Jake. Where are you?”
“Somewhere behind Mickey’s house.
Brutus rigged another escape. Listen, I have to find this stupid dog, and I
don’t know how long it’s going to take. Do you want to wait for me, or put this
off until tomorrow?”
“I’m here. I might as well help
look for him.”
“That’s nice of you, but—” She
yelped. “Damn it, I just stepped in a little creek that popped out of nowhere.”
“Ah. I know where you are. Stay
alongside the creek and start walking back toward your house. I’ll meet you in
less than three minutes.”
Jake pocketed his phone. Should he
offer to take Cynthia with him? Nah.
He plunged into the woods, angling
toward the small stream that he and his brothers used to play in when they were
kids. Branches tugged at his hair and brambles grabbed his ankles. If he was
going to start a list on how best to ruin dress pants, breaking a trail through
the woods would be on it. He didn’t mind ruining the pants. But he hated
shopping.
Emma’s voice bulleted through the
trees. “Brutus! Here, boy. Dinnertime!”
Good—she was close. He changed
direction slightly and found her fifteen seconds later, tromping along the
creek with a scowl on her face.
“Have you seen him?” she demanded.
When he shook his head, she growled. “Crazy dog.”
“Exciting afternoon?” Jake asked,
falling into step beside her as best he could while thrashing through
undergrowth. It was hot and humid under the trees, and mosquitoes began to
dive-bomb him.
“Too exciting.” She banged a spoon
against a metal dog dish in her hand. “Here, Brutus!”
“Are all your dogs this
She scribbled a quick note on a Post-it, slapped it on the front door, and then
ran for the woods separating her house from Mickey’s. When she found that dog,
she was going to strangle him. And if she ever had to board the demon again,
she was going to demand hazard pay.
“Here, Brutus! Come on, Brutus!
Dinner…”
• •
Pressing his finger to the doorbell
again, Jake tried to peer through the glass blocks bordering Emma’s front door.
No movement inside.
He stepped back and looked around.
If she was trying to convince him that she wasn’t home, she should have hid her
car and the two others parked in her driveway. Maybe she wasn’t trying to duck
him but was out back.
Emma wasn’t in the backyard,
either, but he did find Cynthia Monroe there, looking put-out. “What are you
doing here?” she said with the casual rudeness that teenagers seemed to master
effortlessly. She looked older than that, though, so maybe she was just holding
on to bad manners for nostalgia’s sake.
“Looking for Emma. Have you seen
her?”
“No.” And Cynthia placed her hands
on her hips, as if waiting for him to leave.
He made a big production of looking
around. “What about Ian?”
She widened her eyes innocently.
“What about him?”
“Where is he?”
“Out with Emma, I suppose.”
“Their cars are here,” Jake pointed
out. What did this girl have against him, anyway? “They can’t be that far
away.”
“Oh. I didn’t notice.”
Yeah, right.
He almost asked her to give Emma
the message that he was going next door to Mickey’s, then reconsidered. Given
her surliness, the likelihood of that message being delivered seemed small.
Well, he could wait, too. He didn’t
have much desire to do it with Cynthia, though.
Circling the house, he returned to
his car to grab his cell phone. While he was waiting, he could call his parents
and give them an update. He’d found a lawyer he had more faith in, and the
police hadn’t come to the office this afternoon. The day had ended brighter
than it had begun.
A bit of yellow on the front
doorstep caught his eye as he passed. He grabbed the scrap of paper. J— Out catching the dog. Call me: 679-3303.
Smiling, Jake dialed Emma’s number.
“Hello?” She sounded breathless.
“Hi, it’s Jake. Where are you?”
“Somewhere behind Mickey’s house.
Brutus rigged another escape. Listen, I have to find this stupid dog, and I
don’t know how long it’s going to take. Do you want to wait for me, or put this
off until tomorrow?”
“I’m here. I might as well help
look for him.”
“That’s nice of you, but—” She
yelped. “Damn it, I just stepped in a little creek that popped out of nowhere.”
“Ah. I know where you are. Stay
alongside the creek and start walking back toward your house. I’ll meet you in
less than three minutes.”
Jake pocketed his phone. Should he
offer to take Cynthia with him? Nah.
He plunged into the woods, angling
toward the small stream that he and his brothers used to play in when they were
kids. Branches tugged at his hair and brambles grabbed his ankles. If he was
going to start a list on how best to ruin dress pants, breaking a trail through
the woods would be on it. He didn’t mind ruining the pants. But he hated
shopping.
Emma’s voice bulleted through the
trees. “Brutus! Here, boy. Dinnertime!”
Good—she was close. He changed
direction slightly and found her fifteen seconds later, tromping along the
creek with a scowl on her face.
“Have you seen him?” she demanded.
When he shook his head, she growled. “Crazy dog.”
“Exciting afternoon?” Jake asked,
falling into step beside her as best he could while thrashing through
undergrowth. It was hot and humid under the trees, and mosquitoes began to
dive-bomb him.
“Too exciting.” She banged a spoon
against a metal dog dish in her hand. “Here, Brutus!”
“Are all your dogs this
Similar Books
