Cornered in Conard County Page 6

  “Her older brother killed their parents. He just finished a twenty-five-year sentence, and Dory is naturally nervous about him being on the loose again.” He didn’t offer anything more than that. Not his place. Dan could look up the same files, if he wanted to.

  Dan frowned. “She might have a reason to be worried.” Then he returned to the subject at hand. “So what’s your idea?”

  “I just thought that with Dory’s permission maybe you and Vicki and I could bring Krys to see Dory’s dog, Flash. He’s a youngster, just two, and trained only to protect. Krys might discover she wants something very different.”

  “I like that idea,” Dan agreed. “It might settle Vicki some, too. I think she’s concerned about putting a potentially lethal K-9 in the hands of a five-year-old.”

  “I wouldn’t do that,” Cadell said. “I hope you know that. But I’d really like to meet Krys again and talk about it. See if we can find out what’s going on in the child’s head.”

  “I’d love to know that, too. It’s not like her dad was a K-9 handler. I don’t know where this came from. But,” Dan said with a shrug, “I often don’t know where Krys gets some of her ideas. She’s a mystery at times.”

  * * *

  AROUND TWO THAT AFTERNOON, Dory stretched and turned off her computer monitors, allowing her recent construct for the graphics scene to render into a high-definition, nearly realistic image. It wouldn’t take long, given the power and number of graphics cards she had, but it did remind her that she needed to take Flash on a longer walk than just around her backyard. She’d also promised to work with him to keep him fresh.

  Perfect time to do her part by the dog and grab something to eat, maybe a sandwich. She and Betty had stocked her freezer with easy-to-prepare foods, although Betty had tsked quite a bit and said Dory had to promise to come over every Sunday for a decent meal.

  Amused, shaking her head, she said aloud, “Flash, walk.”

  She heard the scrabble of his claws on the wood floor in the hall, and by the time she reached the front door he was standing there with his leash in his mouth.

  Smart dog, she thought. Also probably desperate by now. She was sure he was used to a whole lot more activity.

  “I guess nobody warned you that I forget time when I work,” she said to Flash as she bent to connect his leash. “Sorry about that, boy.” She ruffled his fur and scratched between his ears, but there was no mistaking his eagerness. He moved from paw to paw as if he could barely contain his excitement.

  Maybe she should set an alarm to remind her that she needed to make dog time now. She stuffed a plastic bag in her pocket for cleaning up after him.

  “Ready?” she asked. Stupid question. The dog was overready. “Flash, heel.”

  They stepped out the front door together in time to see Cadell pull into her driveway. Once again the official vehicle and the uniform. Dory had never been keen on uniforms, but this guy...well, he filled that khaki uniform exceptionally well.

  She waved, and he waved back as he climbed out. “Going somewhere?” he called.

  “Flash and I are taking a walk.”

  “I’ll bring Dasher along, too, if you don’t mind some company.”

  Dory didn’t even hesitate. For once she was glad of company. The world around her seemed to be growing more threatening by the day, and no amount of internal argument could change the feeling. George was on the streets again. George blamed her for his conviction. She’d heard that clear enough, even though she hadn’t testified and had still been in a state of utter shock. “Great. You can tell me if I’m doing it right.”

  They reached the corner without either of them speaking. Dasher and Flash were completely well behaved, waiting patiently to learn which direction they were supposed to take.

  “Any preference about where you want to walk?” Cadell asked.

  “Honestly, I’ve been out jogging nearly every day, but I’m totally unaware of my surroundings. My head is on my projects, and everything else goes away when I run.”

  Cadell hesitated, then said, “Right now that’s not wise, Dory. Yes, you’ll have Flash with you, but you need to be aware of your surroundings. Not to mention learning your way around.”

  She flushed faintly, knowing he was right. Scared as she was of her brother, she couldn’t afford to be off in her own world when she was outside. But running cut her free, let her mind wander in ways that could be extremely useful and creative.

  She frowned down at the pavement, trying to figure out how to balance this. Just how afraid was she of George? Afraid enough to pay attention? To relinquish some of her best thinking time?

  She lifted her head and looked around the quiet neighborhood. It seemed so benign, her fears so out of place. Yet the neighborhood she had lived in as a child hadn’t been much different. Quiet. Benign. And then a monster had emerged in her own house.

  “Okay,” she said finally. “You’re right. I don’t like it, but you’re absolutely right.”

  “You don’t have to be hyperalert,” he said. “You will have Flash keeping an eye out. But you at least have to know where you are and develop a sense for when something isn’t right. For your own peace of mind, really.”

  He had a point. She’d skipped jogging yesterday because of George, all the while telling herself how ridiculous she was being. Even if George knew where she was—highly doubtful—it would take him at least some time to get here.

  She turned to the right, and they resumed walking. Soon she admitted something that was hard to say out loud. “I think I’ve endowed my brother with some of the qualities of a supervillain.”

  “How so?”

  “Oh, you know. Finding me. Getting here in an instant, walking through walls... I don’t know, exactly. Even if he knew I was here, it would take time for him to arrive. Yet yesterday I skipped my run.”

  “I’m sorry you skipped your run. But I understand the rest.”

  She glanced up at him. “How could you possibly understand that kind of insanity?”

  “Because I’ve seen what a truly horrible experience can do to the human mind and heart. The impossible has become possible. Why not all the rest, as well? That’s not insanity.”

  “Maybe not.” She couldn’t believe she had just revealed that to him. But Cadell seemed like an honestly nice guy, and he’d been understanding of her fears from the outset. Maybe she needed more than one person to talk to. Betty had heard most of it more than once. Maybe all she wanted was a fresh perspective.

  “So,” he said two blocks later, during which she had tried to pay attention to everything around her, “do you think you might do me a favor?”

  Everything inside her tensed. That would depend, she thought, although she stopped herself from saying it out loud. Heavens, the man had given her a beautiful guard dog. She owed him...if she was capable of providing what he wanted.

  “What’s that?” she asked cautiously.

  “One of my friends—also a deputy, by the way—has a five-year-old stepdaughter, almost six. Her dad was a cop who was killed. Anyway, he says she’s lately become determined to get a police dog. Neither of us is sure why or what she really wants. So...could I bring her over to see Flash? He hasn’t got the kind of training that would make her parents nervous, but he might be exactly what she needs. I don’t know. How could I?” He laughed quietly. “I’m not sure where this demand is coming from, but she’s adamant. Not a puppy, but a police dog.”

  Dory felt torn. A little girl who’d lost her dad. She identified with that. But she didn’t want to sink social roots in this town. She didn’t want to socialize at all. Life was so much clearer when she kept to herself and simply worked. Trust never became an issue.

  But a little girl? One not so very different than Dory herself had been once. Some string in her heart began to knit a connection of some
kind, like it or not.

  “All right,” she said. She was sure she didn’t sound enthusiastic.

  “If it’s too much trouble...”

  She whirled then. Flash stopped walking and came to stand right beside her, but she hardly noticed. “It’s not a matter of trouble. It’s a matter of me. I’d rather be a hermit, if you haven’t heard. Bring the child over. At least I can trust her.”

  She resumed her walk with Flash, leaving Cadell and Dasher behind. Well, that was a lunatic sort of thing to have said, she thought irritably. People around here were evidently going to insist on pushing into her life. She needed that to stop.

  But then she remembered the gift of the dog trotting beside her and felt like an absolute ingrate. A sleaze. Couldn’t she at least put a pleasant veneer over her scarred personality?

  Abruptly she halted and pivoted on one foot. Cadell was right there behind her, his face revealing nothing.

  “I’m sorry,” she said.

  “You’re under a lot of stress,” he replied. “I guess I’m adding to it.”

  Aw, heck, she thought as they resumed their walk. Now she was making him feel like a problem when all he had done was be incredibly kind and understanding. Flash scooted over onto some grass to do his business, and she pulled the plastic bag out of her pocket, picking up the mess, then knotting off the bag.

  “You’re not adding to anything,” she said after a bit. “You’ve been great to me. The problems are all my own. I’m not usually like this, but...”

  “Well, you’ve moved, your brother is out of prison, you’re having problems with that... I’d say that’s not usual by any means.”

  “I don’t deserve excuses. I need to learn to handle all this. It’s the way life is, now.”

  And this version of life evidently didn’t include her hiding out with her computers and her projects except when she had to emerge to buy groceries. Nope. Now there was Betty nearby, and Cadell, who seemed determined to keep an eye on her, and some little girl who’d lost her daddy.

  The idea of the little girl wormed past her defenses, and she felt an ache in her heart. Their stories might be different, but she understood the loss that child must feel, and for the girl it was relatively recent.

  “What’s your friend’s daughter’s name?”

  “Krystal. Everyone calls her Krys.”

  “How long ago did she lose her father?”

  “Two years now. About anyway.”

  “How sad.” Dory sighed. “Sorry for my outburst. By all means, bring her over to meet Flash. Just call and let me know first.”

  * * *

  CADELL SPENT A little time in the backyard with Dory and Flash, refreshing him, but Dory didn’t show her usual joy in the exercise. She looked pensive, and he hoped he wasn’t responsible for that.

  So she wanted to be a hermit. Well, some people were built that way. Completely introverted. The thing was, Dory didn’t act introverted. Avoidance was something else altogether. And he gathered from what Betty said that she worked with a team online, chatting with them around the clock.

  Now that might not be face time, but it was still a group of relationships she’d built. Did she feel safer because of the distance? Because if there was one thing he’d noted, it was that people could become very close online and could be seriously hurt by people they never set eyes on.

  So Dory’s fortress might not be as safe as she believed.

  But he shoved that aside, thinking of her fears about her brother and how they must be pushing her right now. She’d come here to hide out, and by now she might very much want a hole to disappear into.

  Instead he was bringing some new people into her life, one of them a little girl he was sure wouldn’t allow her to remain detached. He sensed that Dory was identifying with Krys already.

  Now he had to wonder if he’d made a huge mistake by trying to help a friend. But the simple fact was he didn’t want Krys to become attached to one of his nearly trained police dogs. They were already assigned. Which left Flash as an example of the dog he could train for her. Even as young as Krys was, she would certainly understand that Flash was Dory’s dog, something not as easy to explain at his kennels, where he had a number of dogs and worked individually with their handlers most of the time. Out there it might not be clear that a dog wasn’t adoptable.

  So that left Dory. And maybe a bit of him trying to get in deeper than he should. He had this little niggle that Krys might be able to pierce Dory’s barriers in a way no one else could.

  He didn’t bother asking why he should care. He just did. Which, he reminded himself, ought to be a huge warning. Klaxons ought to be going off in his head. Time to turn around and walk away.

  But he didn’t. He was, however, disappointed when she said all too soon, “I’ve got to get back to work. I have a team waiting on me. They know I went out with the dog, but they’re probably wondering if I got kidnapped.”

  He managed a faint smile. “Do they know about your brother?”

  Her face closed instantly. “No.”

  She headed toward her house, leaving him to find his way out of the fenced backyard. “I’ll call before I bring Krys over,” he said.

  She barely glanced back. “Thanks. Thanks for everything, Cadell.”

  Thanks for what? he wondered as he let himself and Dasher out the gate and walked to his car. He hadn’t done anything. Well, except for giving her a dog she desperately needed.

  Shaking his head a little as he put Dasher in the backseat, he wondered at himself. He’d probably way overstepped himself by asking her to let Krys come over. Because it wouldn’t just be Krys, and she knew it. It would be Krys and at least one parent.

  People she evidently didn’t care to meet. Interrupting the life she’d worked long and hard to build for herself.

  He snorted at his own folly as he backed out of her driveway. He was acting like a stupid moth, coming back to the flame again and again. But she wasn’t a flame. The sight of her might ignite his own fires, but he’d seen enough to know that Dory might singe him with cold. Bitter cold.

  * * *

  DORY SLIPPED BACK into her chair at her desk and soon forgot everything else as she dived into working on her part of the animation they were creating, and chatting with the other members of her team. Mostly they talked business, tools, ways to solve problems and new ideas. Once in a while they became more personal, but she hid herself well. She doubted any of them guessed that D. K. Lake was a woman. Given the harassment of women online, she wanted to keep it that way. Not that any of her colleagues would dump on her, but if word got out that one of Major Animation’s creative team was a woman? No, thanks.

  After a couple of hours, concentration escaped her and she realized that her thoughts were drifting to other things. God, she been nearly rude to Cadell, if not outright rude.

  No, she wasn’t thrilled about meeting this little girl, because caring was such a dangerous thing. But a five-year-old? Yeah, she’d have to meet at least one of the parents, but that didn’t have to go beyond a half hour or so. The kid wanted a dog. Cadell had thought one trained like Flash, rather than his other dogs, would be best.

  Would it kill her to be helpful? Being helpful didn’t mean she had to become involved.

  Except for Betty, only her godparents had gotten inside the walls erected by one horrific night in her family kitchen. Of course she knew people. She’d made friends all the way through high school and college. But she’d never let those people close. They never met the real Dory Lake, because she never let them. She skimmed the surface with them while holding herself apart.

  She’d had enough therapy to know exactly what she was doing, and she had absolutely no desire to change that about herself. That shell she kept around her innermost being was all that protected her. She’d learned that the hard w
ay.

  As Flash rested his head on her thigh, and she looked down at him, she realized her wall might have been penetrated. Just a little bit.

  Sighing, she patted the dog and returned to work.

  Chapter Five

  More than a week later, on a Saturday morning, Cadell joined Dan and little Krystal at Dory’s house. Last night he’d checked up on George Lake and had found some disturbing news. He didn’t know whether to share it or not, but this morning he was determined to let no shadow hover over Krys’s meeting with Flash and her desire for a police dog. Maybe later, he’d tell Dory what he’d learned.

  She greeted both him and Dan pleasantly at the door, but he noticed circles under her eyes. She wore a burgundy sweatshirt labeled Heidelberg, as if she were chilled on this summer morning, and jeans. Her feet were covered with socks. Beside her, alert, stood Flash, his head cocked inquiringly.

  “Come on in,” she said, swinging the door wide. “I was just about to put my shoes on.”

  Once inside her small foyer, introductions were made. She shook hands with Dan, giving him a pleasant smile, then squatted down until she was at eye level with Krys. “I heard about you, Krys. So you want a police dog?”

  Krys nodded quickly. “Dan says you have one. Is that him?”

  “That’s Flash. He’s beautiful, isn’t he?”

  “He’s big,” came the response. “Can I touch him?”

  “Sure. Flash, sit. Shake.” That was her own addition to Flash’s repertoire, surprisingly easy to teach to this very bright dog. Flash obediently sat and extended his right front paw.

  Krys giggled and reached for it. “I like him!”

  Flash apparently liked her, too. If dogs could grin, he was grinning now.

  “But is he a real police dog?” Krys asked. Apparently, she wasn’t about to be snowed. Cadell caught the smile on Dory’s face as she stood up. She looked at him.

  “I trained him,” said Cadell. “He’s a good guard.”

  Krys looked up at him. “No biting?”

  “No biting.” Not exactly true but true enough. “He only bites if you tell him to.”