Under the Dog Star: A Rachel Goddard Mystery #4 (Rachel Goddard Mysteries) by Sandra Parshall Page B

the Halls’ driveway and found a man with a shotgun blocking her way. She slammed on the brakes. Her mouth went dry. Had she stumbled into a crime scene? Had someone come to kill the rest of the Hall family?
    The stocky, balding man approached her window. Rachel shifted into reverse, ready to flee. Then she recognized the middle-aged man as one of Ethan’s followers. One of the men determined to hunt down and kill the feral dogs. Were they having a meeting at the Hall house?
    The man rapped on her window.
    Reluctant to respond, Rachel stared back at him.
    “What do you want here?” the man shouted.
    Rachel powered down the window about two inches. “Mrs. Hall is expecting me. I’m here to check on the dog.”
    The man studied her, his gaze crawling over her face and dropping to her breasts, his smirk making her feel vaguely soiled. Then he straightened and jerked a thumb, giving her permission to move forward.
    Rachel stepped on the gas, blowing out a long breath of relief as she left the armed man behind. Now she had to worry about encountering Ethan and putting up with his nastiness and verbal abuse.
    Maybe, Rachel thought, Ethan wasn’t at home.
    No such luck. He answered the front door.
    “Your mother’s expecting me,” Rachel said before he could react to her presence. “Would you tell her I’m here to see Thor, please?”
    She expected bluster, or at least a disapproving sneer to remind her that he thought she was crazy for championing the killer dogs. Instead, Ethan looked back at her without expression, his eyes dull and red-rimmed. Had he been crying?
    “She’s in the sun room with Thor,” he said, his voice a low monotone. “I’ll show you.”
    It’s finally hit him, Rachel thought as she followed Ethan down the hall. This guy ticked her off in quite a few ways, but she felt a surprising pang of sympathy for him. His father had just been murdered, after all, and in a particularly gruesome way.
    Ethan left Rachel at the door to the sun room. The German shepherd, stretched on a big dog bed, raised his head and thumped his tail once when she entered the glass-enclosed space. Potted plants, some soaring toward the roof, gave the air a pleasant woodsy aroma. In the corner where Mrs. Hall sat in a wicker chair, blooming orchids of various sizes crowded several tabletops.
    “There’s a man on your driveway with a gun,” Rachel said. “He didn’t want to let me in.”
    Mrs. Hall sighed. “I’m sorry. We have an alarm system and the house can be locked up like a fortress, but Ethan thinks we need additional protection. So he’s paying those men to march around with their rifles.” She waved a hand. “They won’t bother you again. Thank you for coming out to see Thor.”
    Rachel looked down at the dog. “So he’s been up and moving around, huh? That’s a good sign.”
    “I don’t know. He seems so depressed. He used to keep Gordon company when he sat in here reading. I think he came in here hoping—” She broke off and shook her head sadly.
    Vicky Hall looked terrible. Her condition had deteriorated visibly in the last twenty-four hours. She was probably due for dialysis and would feel better afterward.
    “He’s grieving,” Rachel said, “and he doesn’t understand what’s happened.” She sat on the stone floor and stroked the dog’s head.
    “He must have been terrified while he was tied up,” Mrs. Hall said. “Do you think he was beaten? Nobody’s ever hit him before.”
    “I didn’t find anything to indicate a beating,” Rachel said. As far as she could tell, all of Thor’s wounds had been inflicted by another dog.
    Rachel began her examination and didn’t look up when Rayanne Stuckey summoned Mrs. Hall to take a telephone call from the funeral home. She was listening to the dog’s heartbeat—back to normal—when something brushed against her arm. Startled, she jerked back.
    The Halls’ youngest daughter knelt beside her.
    “Oh,” Rachel said, exhaling, feeling her