asked when he found Rory in the kitchen making a cup of tea. She and Hobo had been home from the vet for less than ten minutes and the dog was already snoring under the table, exhaustion having temporarily trumped any fear of the marshal’s appearance.
“Well, I’m not entirely sure,” she said. “I still don’t think Marti’s a killer, but she is one hell of a liar.” She tossed the tea bag into the garbage and sat down at the table with the steaming mug, careful not to step on Hobo’s paws.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if she believes her own stories at this point.” She blew on the surface of the tea, took a tentative sip and then set it down again. “But I did find something interesting at the vet’s office.”
Zeke popped into the chair across from her. “Just as I feared, you found out that Hobo here is afflicted with a deadly streak of cowardice.” He was grinning, prepared for Rory’s indignation. But she wasn’t biting. Instead she told him about the list of names she’d found in the exam room.
“Let’s see,” Zeke said, his brows drawn together as if he were pondering this bit of information. “Nope. I’m pretty sure makin’ lists ain’t a criminal offense yet, even in these crazy times.”
“Well, of course not,” she said, ignoring his attempt at humor. “But as soon as Holbrook noticed that he’d left the list out there on the counter, he flipped it over so fast you’d think it was the code to our nuclear arsenal.”
“Okay, I see what you’re aimin’ at,” Zeke said, dropping the sarcasm, since teasing wasn’t really a game for one. “But unless you can match those names with the dogs that were stolen, you’ve got a whole lot of nothin’. Even if they did match up, that’s not enough evidence for an arrest. Besides, I don’t see how you’d get a hold of that list again even if you had a mind to. If it is incriminatin’ I suspect Holbrook’ll be keepin’ a closer eye on it in the future.”
Short of breaking into the veterinary office and rifling through Holbrook’s papers, she had to agree that there was nothing more she could do about the list for now. But the marshal didn’t need to know that she wasn’t ready to toss the idea into the shredder.
“I’ll tell you one thing,” she said, “I’ve never had a dog, and before our little trip to see Dr. Holbrook, I never realized just how many dogs pass through a veterinary office on any given day. If I were a thief looking for a particular kind of dog to steal, working in a place like that would be a handy job to have.”
“Damn.” Zeke slammed his open palm on the table, which had minimal impact, given that it didn’t make any noise. Hobo slept on undisturbed. “We got to talkin’ and I plumb forgot that Leah sent you that information she’d promised from the dognapping reports.”
“I don’t remember giving you permission to open my e-mail,” Rory said, too pleased by the news to put any teeth into the remark.
“I don’t remember being told it was off-limits,” he countered. “You’re not fixin’ to tack on more rules, are you? You’ve already got more than the entire federal government.”
Rory didn’t bother replying. Leaving the tea on the table, she headed upstairs to the computer.
When she got there Zeke was already seated in her swivel chair, the keyboard dancing like a marionette without strings. The first time he’d attempted to work the computer by fine-tuning his energy, Rory had cringed at the thought of the machine ricocheting off the walls and shattering into a million pieces. Luckily the marshal had proven to be a quick study. It had taken Rory considerably longer to get used to seeing a lawman from the Old West wading knee-deep in modern technology.
As she watched the screen, Leah’s attachment appeared. “You’ll be wantin’ a hard copy,” he said, maneuvering the mouse as well as anyone with actual hands.
The printer spat out five pages, which Rory retrieved
“Well, I’m not entirely sure,” she said. “I still don’t think Marti’s a killer, but she is one hell of a liar.” She tossed the tea bag into the garbage and sat down at the table with the steaming mug, careful not to step on Hobo’s paws.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if she believes her own stories at this point.” She blew on the surface of the tea, took a tentative sip and then set it down again. “But I did find something interesting at the vet’s office.”
Zeke popped into the chair across from her. “Just as I feared, you found out that Hobo here is afflicted with a deadly streak of cowardice.” He was grinning, prepared for Rory’s indignation. But she wasn’t biting. Instead she told him about the list of names she’d found in the exam room.
“Let’s see,” Zeke said, his brows drawn together as if he were pondering this bit of information. “Nope. I’m pretty sure makin’ lists ain’t a criminal offense yet, even in these crazy times.”
“Well, of course not,” she said, ignoring his attempt at humor. “But as soon as Holbrook noticed that he’d left the list out there on the counter, he flipped it over so fast you’d think it was the code to our nuclear arsenal.”
“Okay, I see what you’re aimin’ at,” Zeke said, dropping the sarcasm, since teasing wasn’t really a game for one. “But unless you can match those names with the dogs that were stolen, you’ve got a whole lot of nothin’. Even if they did match up, that’s not enough evidence for an arrest. Besides, I don’t see how you’d get a hold of that list again even if you had a mind to. If it is incriminatin’ I suspect Holbrook’ll be keepin’ a closer eye on it in the future.”
Short of breaking into the veterinary office and rifling through Holbrook’s papers, she had to agree that there was nothing more she could do about the list for now. But the marshal didn’t need to know that she wasn’t ready to toss the idea into the shredder.
“I’ll tell you one thing,” she said, “I’ve never had a dog, and before our little trip to see Dr. Holbrook, I never realized just how many dogs pass through a veterinary office on any given day. If I were a thief looking for a particular kind of dog to steal, working in a place like that would be a handy job to have.”
“Damn.” Zeke slammed his open palm on the table, which had minimal impact, given that it didn’t make any noise. Hobo slept on undisturbed. “We got to talkin’ and I plumb forgot that Leah sent you that information she’d promised from the dognapping reports.”
“I don’t remember giving you permission to open my e-mail,” Rory said, too pleased by the news to put any teeth into the remark.
“I don’t remember being told it was off-limits,” he countered. “You’re not fixin’ to tack on more rules, are you? You’ve already got more than the entire federal government.”
Rory didn’t bother replying. Leaving the tea on the table, she headed upstairs to the computer.
When she got there Zeke was already seated in her swivel chair, the keyboard dancing like a marionette without strings. The first time he’d attempted to work the computer by fine-tuning his energy, Rory had cringed at the thought of the machine ricocheting off the walls and shattering into a million pieces. Luckily the marshal had proven to be a quick study. It had taken Rory considerably longer to get used to seeing a lawman from the Old West wading knee-deep in modern technology.
As she watched the screen, Leah’s attachment appeared. “You’ll be wantin’ a hard copy,” he said, maneuvering the mouse as well as anyone with actual hands.
The printer spat out five pages, which Rory retrieved
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