The dog licked Leah’s hand and wagged her tail. Ignoring her better judgment, she opened the cage, and the dog bounded up to her, nuzzling close. The dog smelled musty and would need a bath when her stitches healed, but that was easily done. She imagined all the supplies she’d need for a dog.
Suddenly, the idea of returning to a solitary home saddened her. Half-living, her aunt had once said. Her husband’s knife blade had nearly taken her life, and fear tried to steal it now.
Defiance burned bright. “Charlie. I like the name Charlie even though you are a girl. Do you think you want to stick with that?” The dog nudged her fingers. “I can’t make you any promises, but we could try one night. How’s that? Your owner might call, or you just might hate living with me. I’m a bit of a neurotic.”
The dog barked.
She went to a wall of collars and chose a red one that might be the right size and slipped it around Charlie’s neck. The dog barked with excitment. This can’t be a good idea.
She hooked a leash on the dog’s collar, and with her purse slung over her shoulder, the two headed out the back door. After a quick spin around the parking lot, she loaded up on a few basic supplies to get them through the night and they got in her car. Charlie settled in the passenger seat, clearly staking a claim.
Because of her early morning call, she’d missed her run, and as tempted as she was to go to the gym, she understood it really wouldn’t be possible tonight with Charlie. The dog would need her full attention tonight. As they drove through the city streets, she detailed all the reasons why this was such a bad idea. Expense. Time. Commitment. Philip.
To hell with Philip.
Brave words and a promise of one night with Charlie didn’t erase four years of fear and hiding. Suddenly, doubt elbowed past the newfound confidence, and she scrambled for second guesses.
Instead of driving home, she drove to the counseling center. Maybe Sierra would be there.
With Charlie in tow, she climbed the concrete stairs and entered the front door. The dog jumped and barked. She knelt to calm her. “You’re going to have to learn a few things about manners, Charlie. No barking.”
The dog cocked her head and then licked Leah’s face.
And in that moment, her heart was gone, taken by a dopey expression and a wet kiss.
Footsteps sounded, and Leah looked up to see Sierra peeking out of an office door. “Leah, what’re you doing here?” She saw the dog and grinned. “And who’s this?”
“This is my big mistake. Charlie.”
Sierra watched Charlie lick Leah’s face. “Why’s this your big mistake?”
Leah scrambled for reasons. “I’m not being fair to the dog.”
Sierra knelt in front of Charlie and rubbed her between the ears. The dog fell to the ground and rolled to her back. “She’s sweet.”
Leah held tight to the leash as she assembled logical reasons. “Caring is a very dangerous thing.”
“Why’s that?”
“Caring led to a lot of pain and suffering the last time I really opened my heart.” Emotion tightened her throat. “And I’m terrified of making that kind of mistake again.”
Sierra laughed when the dog’s tail thumped with pleasure. “This is a dog. Not a husband.”
“I worked hard to build the brick wall around me. Real hard.” Fear caught her voice in her throat. “And now it’s crumbling around my feet. And I’m really afraid that Philip might be back.”
Sierra kept her gaze on the dog. “Why do you think that?”
“Someone sent me flowers and wished me happy anniversary. I had a flat tire the other day. My credit card got messed up.” She shook her head. “And a TBI agent thinks Philip might be alive.”
A frown wrinkled Sierra’s brow as she scratched the dog between the ears again. “Does he have proof of that?”
“Not yet. But I wouldn’t bet against it.”
“Why?”
“Apparently, the identification wasn’t as ironclad as I thought.”
“You’re sure?”
“I’m not sure of anything, but the cops want to exhume his body. I signed a release form. They want to make sure the man in the grave is Philip.”
Sierra rose, adjusting the bracelets on her wrist. “How do you feel about this?”
“Terrified. And angry. I want answers.”
A smile quirked her lips. “You sound like you want to face this head-on. That’s good. When are they going to do the exhumation?”
“A judge has to sign the order. It could be days. Long after our anniversary.” She tipped her head back so that the blooming tears wouldn’t spill. As brave as she tried to sound, she was scared.
Sierra twisted a silver ring on her index finger. “The cops could be wrong.”
Leah shook her head. She didn’t need hard evidence to know the truth. “They think Philip might have killed Deidre.”
“What?”
“She was stabbed twenty-three times. Like me.”
“Leah, why would he go after her?”
“She knew Philip from before. They had some kind of connection.” She rubbed her palms together, the rough scars scraping against each other. For the better part of the day, her skin had itched and crawled, as if someone was standing over her shoulder. “He’s so clever.”
Sierra didn’t say anything.
“You and I both know cops can drop the ball. Men get released from prison, return to a city, and no one tells the victim. Mistakes are made in small localities. Easy to misidentify a badly burned body. Whatever the mistake, the stalker kills the victim and then everyone wonders how it all could have gone so wrong. I don’t want to be the one people talk about one day and say ‘If we’d only known.’”
Sierra cleared her throat. “So you’re going to live in fear for the rest of your life?”
The challenge irritated her. “I didn’t say that.”
“What are you saying?”
“I want to live my life.”
Sierra smiled. “You’ve got a dog. I bet this little lady will alert you if anyone gets close to your house.”
Leah rubbed the dog on the head. “I haven’t decided whether I’m going to keep her.”
“You might not have decided, but Charlie has.”
Chapter Nineteen
Sunday, January 22, 5 A.M.
Charlie had a surprisingly good night with Leah, making it all the way until five A.M. until she needed a walk. Leah pulled on sweats, a thick T-shirt, sheepskinned boots, and a heavy coat as Charlie barked. “I’m coming. I’m coming.”
Her neighbor, a short woman with long, brown hair, waved. The woman owned a pug, but her name escaped Leah. She waved back. Charlie barked.
As she walked the dog toward the corner, she noticed the police car parked across the street. It was there for her protection, but it was a reminder of Philip and the dangerous days ahead.
After the walk, she was energized and ready for a morning run, but when she thought of leaving Charlie alone in her house while she ran, she considered the consequences. “A new dog alone in a town house is a recipe for chewed shoes,” she said as she cupped the dog’s face. “Or maybe I’ll find a shredded comforter.” The dog licked her face and wagged its tail.
“I know you look all innocent now, but I trust you as far as I can throw you. We’re buying a crate today.”
While Charlie chewed on a toy she’d scavenged from the clinic, Leah quickly showered and dressed. Breakfast was a toasted bagel while Charlie munched on dry food. By seven thirty the two were headed out the front door back to the clinic. Charlie, unaccustomed to walking on a leash, pulled her all the way across the lawn and, when they reached her car, circled her several times, wrapping the leash around her legs. Laughing, Leah unlocked the car and carefully unwound the leash. She picked up the dog and settled her on the front seat. Charlie barked, clearly excited about a ride in the car. Another patrolman waited across the street, and she knew this couldn’t go on forever. One day the protection detail would have to stop.