“I don’t remember you mentioning yelling before,” he said, leaning across the counter. He hoped it was a nonthreatening position, but his size often made others feel insecure. This woman didn’t look like she was at all intimidated though. In fact, she looked the opposite. Bored.
“I probably didn’t,” she said. “Why would I? It’s not like it would have had anything to do with the dog.”
“And yet, the banging of the two vehicles as they hit might have been enough to scare the dog out of the pen.”
“That fence is six feet high,” she said. “Surely she’s not jumping that.”
He stared at her in surprise. “Shepherds are well-known for jumping six feet from a standstill. How is it the dog wouldn’t have gotten out? I’m surprised you put her in a run with a fence like this.”
Immediately she went on the defensive. “We don’t have dogs that jump here,” she snapped. She bounced to her feet. “Now look. If you have any more accusations, maybe you should remember that we were willing to take the dog after the screwed-up circumstances brought her here. We aren’t the guilty party here.”
“I get that,” he said, “and I’d be happy to not have to come back just to ask you more questions, but that still doesn’t help me find who was in that accident.”
“What difference does it make?” she asked curiously. “It’s not like they would have had anything to do with the dog.”
“They might have though,” he said patiently. “They may have seen something too.”
She thought about it, shrugged, and said, “Well, the one was a young woman in a silver car. The other guy was in a truck.”
“And he was yelling at her?”
“Well, there was yelling,” she said, “but I don’t know if it was them or if it was the people stuck in traffic behind them.”
“Did you recognize any of them?”
“Well, Joe was a couple cars back. He was laying on the horn all the time. But then he’s always on the horn all the time,” she sneered.
“And who is Joe?”
“Joe Hinds,” she said. “He lives up the road about four houses.”
“Four?” he asked, looking out the window. “Which way?”
“Right,” she said. “His name is on the mailbox.”
“Let me see if I can talk to him,” he said. “And thanks.” He gave her a brief smile, then turned and walked out the door. He heard her mutter something behind him but got the gist of it. Something to do with good riddance and hoping he never came back. Unfortunately, until he got to the bottom of what happened to Kona, Greyson would be back. No way he would give up on finding Kona.
Chapter 4
Back home again, Jessica quickly moved Danny inside, still asleep in his stroller, locked the doors, unpacked her few groceries hanging from the handles on Danny’s stroller, and put her son down in his bed for a nap. She wanted to lie down and rest herself, but she was still too keyed up. She just couldn’t get rid of that feeling of being watched. She stayed in her son’s room, until he drifted off to sleep again—after she had woken him when transferring him from his stroller to his bed—and then slipped across to her bedroom.
She stood at the windows at the edge of the curtains, studying the backyard. Nothing appeared to be there, and she realized just how crazy she sounded and was acting. If anybody saw her like this, they would wonder about her mental state. And what could she tell anyone? That she was afraid her ex was now all of a sudden after her and her son? That didn’t make any sense either since they had separated two years ago. From that room she went to the bathroom, then to her son’s room, checking out all angles, but she couldn’t see anything outside. She made her way downstairs and put on the teakettle. She quickly made a cup of tea when it boiled.
As she sat here by the glass window, she thought she saw something rustling in the bushes. She froze and stared out the clear window, certain she saw a tail flicking through the bush. Was it that dog? Was the dog responsible for the weird sensation that she was being followed?
She didn’t get it. Something was so bizarre about all this, and it was creepy. It was creepy to think that she thought she saw a man’s face in those bushes earlier, but it was also creepy to see the dog in the bushes too. Was the dog dangerous? She couldn’t get past the idea that maybe it was, and that wasn’t anything she wanted to deal with either. But how was she supposed to avoid it?
When she heard a ruckus outside, she raced out to the backyard and went over to the neighbor’s fence—a big wooden fence between her and him—but she thought she heard barking in his yard. When her neighbor came outside, he started yelling.
She called out to him, “What’s going on?”
“Damn dog! Looks like he got into my garbage!” he roared.
She hurried down to the back alley, where he kept his cans, and went through the gate. It was probably a foolish thing to do, but she wanted to catch sight of the dog. Up ahead, around the corner, she thought she saw something dark sweep down the alley and out the back. She groaned. “I don’t know if it’s him or not,” she muttered.
Her neighbor poked his head over the gate and glared. “How come he didn’t go after your garbage?” he snapped.
What was she supposed to say? She didn’t put food in her garbage out here. She didn’t have enough money to waste food like he did. He was the type who put out pizza boxes with half a pizza still in it, all of it into the outdoor trash bin.
With a shrug, she stepped back into her
