Black Creek Burning (The Black Creek Series, Book 1) (19 page)

"A gun. He had a gun. Liz said pointed at you." Nathan rubbed a hand over his face.
"Aren't you supposed to see some kind of trauma somebody when that happens?" He turned
and faced her but didn't come closer.

"I'm more worried about what happened to my dog right now."

"That's what your sister said you would say. I know the dog means a lot to you, but—"

"I'm talking about what
happened
to my dog. Someone knew where to hurt me, Nathan. Knew she was pregnant. The vet
said the drug used is meant to induce abortion. Only whoever did this used so much
it could have killed her. Would have if we weren't there, if you weren't there. This
isn't random and it isn't a disgruntled parent. This is personal."

"I want you to come and stay with me."

She pushed away from the glass. "And bring this to Duncan and Andy? I know how to
lock my doors, Nathan, and I need to ask you to give me some room." She held up a
hand before he could interrupt. "Just a few days, Nathan. I need to think. I'm going
to write up that list for Dave and I'd like it if you would come with me to file the
police report. Right now, I need to spend some time with my dog and wrap my head around
all of this. Sandy told me not to come back. She said I'm suspended." He didn't look
surprised.

"I'll agree only if I install dead bolts and locking bars for the basement and first
floor windows. I can get it done today."

"I can agree to that." She stepped forward and took his hand, placing his warm palm
to her cheek. Closing her eyes, she asked, "How is Andy?"

"Worried. Worried, but okay. He doesn't really know what was going on in the hallway
except there were men yelling. The boys are also distracted. My folks have been planning
a trip to—"

"Niagara Falls." She took the newspaper from her table and pulled the rubber band
off. "I've been hearing about it all week. The weather isn't any better up north.
Thank you for staying. I won't forget it."

Chapter 16

Brie pulled up to Dr. Lanter's building a few minutes before it opened for the day.
Through the dark clouds, torrents of rain fell onto her windshield. She planned to
stay as long as they would allow. So, she'd packed a bag of things to work on. Slinging
it over her shoulder, she trudged through the rain and into the lobby. The receptionist
pecked away at her computer. She wore the same type of smock as the doctor's assistant
from the night before, light blue and covered with cartoon animals. Dripping across
the linoleum, she walked to the front desk, where the receptionist nodded in recognition.

"Good morning, Miss Chapman. Macey will be so happy to see you." She led her to the
room of kennels reserved for injured or recovering patients.

When she saw Macey was conscious, she dropped her bag at her feet. Groggy, her dog
didn't lift her head, but her tail thumped on the concrete floor of the kennel.

"Hey, girl."

Brie sat on the hard, cold floor next to the kennel and opened the door. Macey didn't
get up, but she lifted her brows and made eye contact. Brie figured she should be
worrying about her students, worrying about her job, but the overwhelming relief left
little room for anything else.

As she scratched around her ears, Macey's chest expanded deeply in a cleansing breath,
then she sighed like a human. They sat like that until her beloved friend fell back
into sleep.

Leaning against the empty cage next to her, Brie pulled out a yellow notepad and started
making notes for Dave, starting chronologically from the first incident. The dead
mouse. She knew it took place before the first time her windows had been shot out,
but how was she supposed to remember dates? She tried to associate the events with
days of the week or weather conditions. The people that were around at the time of
each incident were listed to the side in a different color. Writing the names of friends
and family felt like a heavy betrayal.

Dr. Lanter came in and crouched down near Brie. "She's doing well. Vitals look strong
and the poison is flushing from her system. We're going to try and get her up before
night."

* * *

Nathan sat in his truck in the gravel parking lot of his father's shop. He remembered
the years he'd worked here in junior high and high school with his brother. The smells
of sawdust and plastics glue came back quickly. He and his brother used to argue over
who would start the fire when the scrap particle boards filled the enormous metal
garbage can.

He parked several spaces from the front door and walked around the rain puddles. His
dad had four employees who'd worked for him for years. Sylvester Reed was a great
boss. Nathan didn't inherit that trait. The shop was large and open. Through a door
to the left, he knew, were the offices where he would likely find him.

"Hey, Dad. You busy?" He walked in and stood next to his father, who was analyzing
a set of drawings.

"Not too busy. You came at a good time. Take a look at these." He pushed the prints
closer to a swivel chair on rollers where he gestured for Nathan to sit. "This is
more up your alley. I never get when people spend money to have a custom kitchen made
from plastic."

Nathan leaned over. "Looks like they chose plastic because of the curves you see here.
Makes more sense to bend the plastic, although I could get wood to do that. You'll
want to waterfall the backsplash and counter lip. Maybe suggest some glass fronts
on the ends there and there. How's business?"

"Hmm," Sylvester said, nodding his head while still looking at the plans. "Business
is good. I've got more orders than I do time. I guess they'll have to wait or go somewhere
else. There's an important trip to Niagara Falls I need to get to. We postponed it
with the weather and all that's going on with Andy's teacher, but I suppose you know
about that. How is the girl?"

"Resilient. I can keep an eye on her out my back door. That makes it easier. I wanted
to talk to you about something. You've scaled back a lot over the years."

"Yes."

"I guess you're only using about sixty percent of your space here."

"Fifty percent," Sylvester interrupted. "But go on."

He recognized his father's skeptical tone. Smart man. "I need a place to build. My
garage hardly works for my house projects. My little spray room is a pain in the ass."

"Is that all? Bring your tools over. You can use the empty half anytime you want.
You still have a key?"

"I still have a key, but that's not exactly what I mean. I need a place to do business."

"Whoa." Sylvester held up his arms palms out.

"Nothing like what I had. I didn't move the kids all the way up here just to put them
into the same situation they were in back in South Carolina. I'm scaling back, too,
but I need a place. And I need you."

"Son of a bitch, Nathan. I'm just a small-time plastics guy. You're an artist... Don't
give me that look. You're paid like an artist. How could you possibly need me?"

"I know how to create and design and build. That's it. I suck at the business end.
I don't know how to keep guys busy when I don't need them, and I don't do well managing
time or the bookwork. That's all stuff you're good at. I'd give you fifty percent."

"You do suck at the business end. Give me ten percent, and we have a deal."

"Thirty percent and we shake right now." He held out his hand.

His dad reciprocated, and they shook. "Thirty percent. You're a sap. Where did I go
wrong?" He pulled his son in with the hand they clasped and hugged him with the other.
"It's great to have you and the boys back. You're filling a hole that's long since
been empty."

* * *

Nathan drove by the vet's on his way to meet Dave. He saw Brie's truck and pulled
in. The lobby smelled like an odd combination of cleaning solution and wet dog. Behind
the receptionist, on a padded office chair, lay a sleeping brown and white beagle.

"Can I help you?"

"I'm looking for Brianna Chapman."

The receptionist stood and walked around her counter. "She's in back. I'll show you
the way." He followed. "We're about to close. I think she's almost ready to leave,
too."

"I'll only be a minute, thank you."

"You're a man of your word." Brie sat on the floor next to a wall cage with the door
open. She started to stand, but instead he sat down on the concrete next to her.

Macey whimpered at the sight of him and licked the back of his outstretched hand.
"Hey girl." He scratched the top of her head between her eyes. "Goldie's out of his
mind. You get better soon."

He looked at Brie while still scratching Macey's head, thinking she looked better,
too. "I brought you these." He handed her a set of keys. "Same key fits the front,
back and garage knob and deadbolts. Each window in the basement and first floor has
a locking bar. You can't see it from the outside and barely can from the inside. How
are you holding up?" He placed the keys in her outstretched hand, then brushed his
fingers from the top of her hair to her shoulder.

She smiled. "Better now. They got her up for a walk. She looked a little drunk, but
made it all the way outside. Dr. Lanter thinks one or two more nights and she'll be
able to come home."

"We'll be waiting for you." He reached over, placing his hand on the back of her hair,
and kissed her forehead before standing and walking out.

* * *

Sitting in the pub, Nathan ordered burgers and fries for the two of them. He'd chosen
a ridiculously small table in the restaurant side of Mikey's, then drank his beer
thinking about how Brie, indeed, looked better even though pale and tired yet.

"Anybody home?" Dave said, waving his hand in front of Nathan's face. He pulled up
a chair and motioned to the waitress. "You're miles away, man."

"I need to do something. Anything. Did you read the paper? Shit. I need you to tell
me what to do."

"I figured that from the sound of your call. How is she?"

"Actually pretty good. Too good. And there's more than just the lockdown at her job."
He took a long drink and sat back. "I ordered you a burger."

"Just a burger? I'm starved." Dave signaled for the waitress. "I'll have what he's
drinking and two pounds of wings, hot."

She nodded and took his menu.

"What more?"

"She got home later than usual. Someone left poisoned meat in her yard for her dog
to find. She found her dog. I found her. The dog's going to make it, but it was pregnant
and lost the pups."

"Son of a bitch. That's a bad day." The waitress came back with Dave's beer. "You
don't think it's a coincidence." He took a drink and leaned back in the wooden chair.
"Is she going to file a report this time?"

"Yes. She says she needs a few days to wrap her head around it. She's organizing notes
for you, wants me to go with her to the station. And, no, I don't think it's a coincidence
and neither does she. Someone knew her dog was having puppies and we only found out
a few days ago. They knew which buttons to push that would hurt her the most and knew
when she was the most vulnerable."

"The scene will be compromised in a few days. Probably already is."

"We've got a few hours of daylight left. Let's finish here and go check it out."

"Unofficial."

"Better than nothing."

They ate and switched to water. Dave went over what he was legally allowed to and
what he'd found out in the past few weeks. He'd made a list of all of the employees
at Bloom six years ago that were still employed there now. He did the same with the
neighbors in a half-mile radius. Most of the neighbors had stayed the same; he couldn't
say the same about the turnover at the school.

"No wonder. The principal's a piece of work." Nathan finished up the crunchy corners
of fries left on his plate.

"I heard something about that. The officers on duty mentioned she may be the one to
be fired. They've got Brie's back and are saying she kept the parent from reaching
the classroom. That the principal snapped—not the first time—breaking confidentiality
by alerting the parent Brie was the one who reported his abuse. Everyone heard her."
Dave took a last bite. "Don't say anything to Brie. It might not work out that way."