In Your Dreams (Blue Heron #4)(93)

She had fast thumbs, he’d give her that.

I can come 2 c u if easier. :)

And now a smiley face, for the love of God.

Give me a call, ok???

No, thanks, he wouldn’t.

Miss u!!!

Worried about u!!!

It was the emotional equivalent of nails on a chalkboard.

And now the phone was ringing. Three guesses as to who it was. He didn’t bother picking up, but he did text her back. I’m fine. Nothing to worry about.

He thought about turning off his cell, but he didn’t have a landline. And his grandfather had been looking a little gray lately. Jack had asked Jeremy Lyon to drop in on Pops, as the old man wouldn’t go to the doctor without a gun to his head.

He added sausage to the garlic and onions he was sautéing. This would be a good dinner. Then again, food hadn’t tasted like much these days. Oh, and there was Mrs. Johnson’s chocolate cake for dessert. He picked up his phone and called her.

“Just wanted to thank you again for my cake,” he said.

“Oh, Jackie, don’t be silly! You know I love you best,” Mrs. J. cooed.

“I do know that, and I lord it over my sisters whenever possible. And Dad.” He smiled. “What are you guys doing tonight?”

“That’s none of your business, Jack darling.”

He shuddered. “You’re right. Thanks again, Mrs. J.”

Maybe he should get a dog. Lazarus wasn’t much in the company department. As if determined to prove him wrong, the cat rubbed against Jack’s ankle in a rare show of affection, then hissed and ran under the couch.

A knock came at the door, and Jack felt his jaw tighten. He turned off the stove and went to the door. If that was Hadley, he just might call the police.

It wasn’t Hadley. It was the police, still in uniform. And the police officer’s puppy, holding a stuffed animal in his mouth.

Jack felt himself smiling. “Hey,” he said, opening the door. “How are you?”

“This is police business,” she said, already blushing. “Levi made me come.”

“I owe him one,” Jack said. “Come in. I’m making dinner. You can stay.”

“No, we’re just, um, checking.”

“For what? For dead possums?”

“Basically. Mind if I walk around your property?”

“Not at all. I’ll come with you.” He grabbed his jacket. “Hey, buddy,” Jack said, bending down to pet the puppy, who wriggled in ecstasy, then whipped his toy—a chicken—back and forth. Lazarus darted out and ran under a bush, the better to spy on the dog. Jack stood up, catching the smell of Emmaline’s shampoo.

Nice.

She had beautiful eyes. Cat-shaped and blue. Her mouth... He remembered that mouth. Hell, yeah. That was a good mouth. Perfect for kissing. Perfect for—

He realized he was staring and cleared his throat. “So what are you looking for?”

“Signs of a trespasser.” She jammed her hands in her jacket pockets. “You shouldn’t have wiped down the truck, by the way. Next time a crime is committed against you, please let the professionals do their jobs.”

“Save it,” he said. “Levi already lectured me.”

“Is your driveway the only way up here?” she asked, starting off toward the stone wall that bordered the woods.

“No. You can drive up from the other side of the ridge and go through the Ellis property.”

“Think you’d wake up if someone drove up your driveway?”

“Oh, yeah. It’s gravel.”

“Then I bet Possum Person came through the back way.”

“Sounds about right.”

The snow had melted during a brief warm spell, but the temperature had dropped back to the twenties last night. Their breath fogged in the sharp, clean air. Sarge snuffled behind them, off his leash, and Lazarus brought up the rear.

“How have you been?” Jack asked.

“Fine,” she said. “Do you have any ideas who might leave a dead possum in your truck?”

“A couple of Josh’s friends, maybe.”

She nodded. “That’s my best guess, too.”

The light was fading, the sunset brilliant red on the horizon.

Same as the day the kids went into the lake.

The thought swelled in Jack’s brain, blotting everything else out. The bottom of the car, so clear and foreign, sailing over his head. The thunk of the camera as he dropped it on the dock. The steely bite of the water over his head as he dived.

For a second, he couldn’t breathe; he was looking up at the red-and-purple sky so far away. Josh wasn’t budging, and Jack was out of air, and his vision was shutting down, and Josh was already dying. He was—

There was fur against his mouth, and a warm, wriggling body against his chest. Em had handed him the puppy.

“His paws are a little cold. Would you mind holding him?”

“Oh. Sure.” Sarge was already joyfully licking his face and whining. “Easy, pal,” Jack said. “We barely know each other.” His voice was almost normal.

The dog made a mooing noise, then put his head on Jack’s shoulder.

Emmaline was studiously not looking at them, holding the dog’s toy chicken. It occurred to Jack that she’d given him the dog for a reason.