Muttering quietly to herself, she walked off the porch and surveyed the house.
Deciding the shrubs in front of the left window were less overgrown, she ducked to the side and went in for a closer look. As she leaned in, she was jabbed by a tiny thorn. A bead of blood appeared on her arm. Stuck halfway in, she decided to press on. She unholstered her gun and used it to push more needle-covered branches, careful to keep the gun pointed at the ground.
After a few seconds of maneuvering through the shrubs she was at the window, her back pressed into the side of the house. She squatted, noting her legs were shaking a bit, but felt strong. Her religious workout regimen and yoga at least five-times-a-week had paid off.
She rose slowly, her face close to the dirty glass. Her eyes gradually adjusted to where she could see the darkened room inside. A desk stood against the far wall, covered in unopened mail, magazines, and local newspapers still in their plastic bags. Apparently not a fan of reading.
Piper put her eye close to the window and looked the other way. A hallway led from the front door into a kitchen, where a table held another pile of unopened envelopes. Was she stealing mail from the neighbors?
The overhead light above the kitchen table was illuminated, though it appeared dim compared to the sunlight coming through the sliding glass door behind it.
Piper held her breath, thinking she might have heard a sound. Even over the din of the rushing wind, she was certain she’d heard a cry. Was Mary Ellen hurt inside?
She could feel her heart pumping, her breathing quickening.
Suddenly there was a flash of movement in front of her, a mass of red hair lurching up from below.
The needle-covered branches poked through her shirt and sports bra beneath as she backed up and ducked out of sight. Her ponytail covered her face, caught on the bush. When she pulled it away, the branch swiped across her cheek.
"Dang it," she said out loud, because she realized then what she had seen. And heard.
Rising, she saw the cat on the other side of the glass, licking its paw, unfazed by her presence.
"Scared the crap out of me, you little…” Piper eyed the cat’s tongue as it lapped along the rim of its mouth, then the back of a curled paw. Then she noticed the bright red substance clotting the cat’s fur. “What the hell?”
Chapter 11
Wolf’s SUV skidded on the dirt as he turned off the paved road of Dredge’s Main Street onto the side street called Poppy Lane.
He flicked the dashboard switch and the blaring siren went silent. Ahead, Deputy Cain’s Jeep Cherokee was parked a few blocks up and he saw her leaning against it, rising at the sight of his approach.
The plume of dust kicking off the back of his vehicle reached her first, engulfing her in a cloud that she ducked to avoid.
He parked and got out. “Sorry about that. You okay?”
She waved her hand, and when the dust blew away he saw her face was covered in streaks of blood.
“Are you hurt?”
“Heads up.” She turned away and covered herself again with an arm.
Wolf turned around in time to get hit square in the face with Rachette’s vehicle dust.
Wolf assumed the defensive position, holding his breath. Once the maelstrom passed he brushed himself off.
“You’re bleeding,” Yates said, running up.
“You okay?” Rachette pushed up next to Yates. “What happened?”
Deputy Cain put up a hand and stepped back. “I’m okay, I’m okay. I was looking in the front window and got scratched by a thorn bush.” She upturned her hands. “I’m okay.”
Wolf stretched to see over the fence into the back yard. The rear windows came into view and he thought he saw the curtains move.
“Yeah, come here and take a look,” Piper said, walking past him to the fence.
“Wait, I saw movement.”
She ignored him, putting her hands on the top of the wooden slats and hoisting herself into a half-pullup to see. He followed, only having to get on his toes.
The wind blew Cain’s ponytail straight towards him, along with her floral scent. He noticed she held the position, there in a half-pullup, her face not showing any strain.
“I went to the front door,” she said. “I rang it, then knocked. No answer.”
Rachette jumped up next to Deputy Cain, grunting with exertion.
“I went to the window to look in and saw a cat covered in blood. That’s the movement you’re seeing in there.” She nodded her head. “You see that?”
Wolf did. Thin, light-colored drapes covered a wide rear window. At the center point where they met there was blood spatter on the fabric and drops that had run down the glass.
“I hopped the fence after I called you guys and looked inside,” she said. “It’s her. Mary Ellen Dimitri.”
“Did you touch anything?”
“No, sir.” She lowered herself down and swatted away the splinters from her uniform shirt and jeans. “I mean, I did check the back door and the back window.” She pulled a pair of purple latex gloves from her rear pocket. “But I did glove up. Sir.”
“Were they open?” Wolf asked.
“No, sir. The front right window is open, though.”
“You didn’t go in, did you?” Rachette asked.
“No. Of course not.”
Wolf walked to the front of the house, through long grass and swaying wildflowers.
A neighbor down the street had come outside and was eyeing them.
“Check with that neighbor and see if she saw anything,” Wolf said.
“I’m on it.” Yates marched down the dirt road.
“That window there, on the right." Wolf looked at Deputy Cain.
She shrugged. “You guys took a while to get here. I was curious. I’m sorry.”
“It’s no problem.”
“Unless you screwed up some fingerprints on that back door handle,” Rachette said.
“I never touched the handle. I pulled from the back of the door. When it didn’t budge I
