immediately.'
He meant if I were arrested. Good thing I'd left out how close I was to that. I slouched in my chair.
'Thanks. I promise.'
Aunt Vi only harrumphed and intently arranged the porcelain tea pot and cups on the table. It was the Spode set with the red rosebuds I bought for her when Jonathan and I flew to Victoria for a weekend last January. If it hadn't been for the shopping and sightseeing, the trip would have been a colossal waste of time.
'It was Blackie's doing, you know,' Aunt Vi said pouring the first cup. She handed it to me.
'What was Blackie's doing?' I asked. Talk about a non sequitur.
'At the end of the day, you'll see. He knew.' She fixed a cup of tea with milk and handed it to Uncle Henry.
'Blackie knew?' Uncle Henry asked.
'Yes.' She passed him the sugar bowl and stirred her tea.
My uncle and I looked at each other. He shrugged minutely. We'd obviously switched subjects, but I wasn't sure what the new subject was. 'What did he know?'
Aunt Vi took a deep breath and pursed her lips on the long, slow exhale. Oh. I knew where this was headed but went for the wide-eyed sincere look, anyway.
'What?'
'He knew you were in trouble, of course. He tried to tell us.'
I knew it. She was creating a psychic connection out of a coincidence. I shifted around in my chair.
'You know how close you two are,' she said. 'Why, he always knows when you're on your way. I've seen him out there in the field stop all at once and gaze into the distance.' She did a little impression of Blackie – freezing as if on point, looking intently in the direction of my house, jaw slack. I had to smile. 'See? Just like that. Then he whinnies and goes back to eating. Not five minutes later here you come rolling up the drive. I'm telling you, he knew you needed help today, Thea.'
'Don't be ridiculous,' I said, taking a swallow of tea. 'The next thing you'll be telling me is Blackie can read your Tarot cards.'
'You mark my words. I'm right.' Up went her chin and a full dose of her we-are-not-amused glower cut off my unvoiced smart-ass remark and neutralized the accompanying smirk.
I cleared my throat, finished my tea with polite decorum, and got up from the table. 'Thanks for the tea and everything. I need to get going. I've a ton of work to catch up on.'
'If you must. Take that ice pack with you, too. In fact, why not come by for dinner?'
'I don't know if I can. Juliet is expecting me to help her practice her Tae Kwon Do this evening. She has a belt test coming up.'
'I don't think that's a wise idea considering your injuries, do you?' Uncle Henry said.
'I'm fine. The doctor said it's just bruising, no blood -' I stopped abruptly. My mind had just made a brilliant connection. 'No blood,' I said. They looked confused. 'There was no blood on the ground by Valerie's body.'
'You're sure?' Uncle Henry asked.
'The ground was dry. It hasn't rained in a week. No puddles, and no mud. Surely, with a wound like her's she would have bled. In fact, there was a lot of blood in her hair. She must have been killed somewhere else.'
'Why would she have been in the pasture then?' Aunt Vi asked.
'To make it look like an accident,' I said, feeling rather smart. 'That's the only reason it could be. You'd think whoever put her there should have realized what a pussycat Blackie is.' I pushed my chair in, took my cup and saucer to the sink, and tossed my napkin in the trash, aware of the unhappy looks on my aunt and uncle's faces. I should have kept my mouth shut.
'And just where do you think you're going?' Aunt Vi said, her words sharpened to a dictatorial edge.
Chapter Nine
I parked my car at the curb in front of my little gray-with-white-trim Craftsman cottage and gave the emergency brake a firm shove with my foot. I stalked past my well-planned flower beds on the verge of becoming colorful, climbed the steps to my porch, and headed straight to my kitchen for a glass of water. I took some ibuprofen and went to my office. I absolutely had to get some work done. I absolutely had to keep my flipping mouth shut. It'd taken some fast talking to get out of my aunt and uncle's house after all that thinking out loud.
I tried to focus on my work, but the more my columns of figures behaved in logical and predictable ways the more of a jumbled mess my life seemed. Part of my brain constantly made the comparison: tidy and neat versus messy and chaotic. I longed for order and needed to put right all that had upset my life lately. I loved my rut. It promised security, predictability, and no excitement or unexpected emotion to pump up my adrenalin. I thrived on serenity. In a moment of epiphany I understood why I'd stayed with Jonathan for so long, and why my need to stabilize my life right now made the idea of going back to him – even accepting his proposal – not so abhorrent.
The whirlpool effect Valerie's murder created was gaining momentum, and using Jonathan to try and save myself was foolish in the extreme. As irritating as she had been to me alive, she was downright upsetting dead.
Disgusted at my inability to concentrate, I gave up and shut down my computer. Tomorrow I would do what was necessary to enforce a routine on my life and bring back order. Right now I had unfinished business. I had to call Jonathan to get the name of an attorney, and I had to tell him I needed breathing room. I could only deal with one crisis at a time. Jonathan would have to wait to get dumped.
I balanced on the edge of my padded desk chair and dialed his office. His secretary told me he was in and available – a disappointment, but better than leaving a message and having to field all of his reactions later.
'Thea.' He sounded glad to hear me.
'Hi, Jonathan.' I tried to sound casual.
'Have you -'
'No. I mean I haven't had time to think about last Saturday. Something's come up and I need information.'
'Of course,' he said in his professional tone, impressing me with how well he switched gears. 'Is this about Valerie Parsons?'
'How did you know?' I was really impressed now.
'Connections,' he explained, explaining nothing.
'This may take a couple of minutes. Do you have time?'
'Of course.' Again in his best attorney mode.
As briefly as I could, I told him of finding Valerie dead in her own pasture Sunday morning, Greg's threat to Blackie, and my meeting with Detective Thurman.
'I know this isn't your area, and well, you'd probably rather not get involved, but can you recommend someone for me to call? You know, just in case?'
'Yes, of course. I'm always here for you. You should know that.'
I heard him tapping on his keyboard, probably paging through his address book. What I didn't hear were any horrified gasps or polite hints at ending our relationship. I knew I was going to have to be the one to end it.
'Jacob Green,' he said.
I dutifully jotted down a Bellevue address and phone number.
'He's excellent, should be able to take care of all contingencies without a problem.'
'Good. Thank you.' I hoped that included Valerie's parents.
'You're welcome. I expect you'll be entering some horseshows, now that Valerie isn't around to take up all of Henry's time.'
'No.' My temper, previously nonexistent, shot perilously close to slamming-the-phone-down level. 'Why would I do that?'
'Oh, uh, well,' he spluttered. 'Wasn't she the reason you wouldn't compete in horse shows? I mean, Henry's always wanted you to and…So, the guy who tossed Greg out of your house, Paul Hudson, isn't he the one who picked you up Saturday night from McMurphy's?'
