Unspoken (Shadow Falls: After Dark #3)(77)

Della recalled the hot dogs and couldn’t help but grin.

Then she looked around. The house next to it had a CONDEMNED sign in the yard. she glanced up and down the street. The place looked like a great location for a meth lab. But was it a great place for a vampire on the run? Perhaps. She sure as hell hoped so.

Two weeks.

When Chase cut off the engine, the dog rose up and let out a low, serious growl.

“Friendly sort,” Della said and realized Chase could probably say the same thing about her. She hadn’t spoken since they’d pulled out of the parking lot. What could she say? Oh, she wanted to tell him he was so slick that his own bullshit just slid right off of him. She wanted to accuse him of thinking he looked like hot stuff in that black suit and dark sunglasses. But he did look hot, and she knew him well enough to know he was being sincere. Her only answer was … Not now. And she kept that one to herself.

“Get the hot dogs,” he said.

“You’re gonna get past him by feeding him hot dogs?” Della asked.

“It’s better than what I fed him three weeks ago.”

“What did you feed him?” she asked.

“A bite of my ass.” He chuckled. “I thought I could rub his belly and make a friend.”

“He bit you?” Della couldn’t help but laugh.

“He didn’t get much,” Chase said and reached behind to touch his butt.

They got out of the car.

“So this house belongs to one of the Stones you’ve already investigated?” she asked, catching the scent of garbage and seeing the two overflowing metal cans on the front porch.

“Yeah.”

“Remember, Burnett has ruled them out and thinks we should move to the new list of Stones.”

“He also said for me to follow my gut. I feel as if I might have missed something. I want to circle back around, just to be certain.”

The dog barked, calling their attention again. He scratched at the ground like a bull ready to charge. Then he bolted toward them. The canine’s lip curled and exposed teeth, the hair on the back of its neck stood straight up, and drool oozed from its jowls. He got closer. Then closer.

Shit! How long was that chain?

Della was about to do a quick step back when Chase said, “It’s okay.”

Then, unfortunately, or fortunately depending whose side you were on, about a foot from where they stood, the dog ran out of chain. When he hit his limit, he was yanked up in the air and landed with a thud on ground. He didn’t stay down long.

“I think he was inbred a few too many times,” Chase said.

“Poor thing,” she said and meant it. Most animals were stupid or aggressive due to how their owners treated them.

“Open the hot dogs.”

“Why don’t we just fly over him to the porch? No one is out here.” She waved around.

“Two reasons,” he said. “One, we’re supposed to appear like humans, remember?”

“I don’t think Burnett meant—”

“Two,” he interrupted, “that chain reaches the door. How do you think I got my ass bit?” He rubbed his backside. “Here’s what we’re going to do. You’re gonna throw the Oscar Mayers, and while he’s munching on them I’m going to pull out that pole and reposition it so his chain can’t reach the porch.”

“And if he’s not interested in the hot dogs?”

“Then I’ll try rubbing his belly again.” He smiled. “I rub a mean belly. Just ask Baxter. Anytime you need—”

“My belly is fine.” She tossed a half of a hot dog and then looked at Chase. “Don’t let him bite you.”

“Good plan.” Chase took off. In record speed, he pulled the metal pipe from the ground and moved it closer to the dog to reposition it.

The dog, obviously feeling the chain’s movement, turned toward Chase and growled. Della threw another wiener.

The animal was so hungry, he forgot Chase and went hot dog hunting.

Chase pushed the metal pipe in the ground. “Done.” He bolted back.

Della tossed the rest of the wieners to the hungry animal and then walked across the yard to the porch. On the front door, hung crooked, was a sign: IF TROUBLE, MY DOG, DOESN’T SCARE YOU, MY SHOTGUN MIGHT.

She looked at Chase. “You think you could offer to rub the shotgun’s belly? I fed all the hot dogs to Trouble,” she said in almost a whisper.

He grinned.

“Did you actually talk to someone here last time you came?”

“Yeah, human, in his late fifties, about as friendly as the dog. When I asked if he was Douglas Stone he said no and that he was just staying here with a friend. He was lying. Thing is I don’t know if the lie was about his name or staying here with a friend. Or both.”

Della took a deep breath to see if she got a trace of a vampire scent. She didn’t, but with the thick stench of garbage, it could be hidden.

Chase tilted his head to the side, listening to see if anyone was inside. Della did the same.

“TV’s on in a back room,” Chase said.

Della felt a thrill shoot through her. If this was Douglas Stone, her dad’s ordeal could be over.

“You wanna knock and I’ll go around back in case he tries to run?” she asked.