Deadly Abandon (3 page)

The rhythm of her heart outraced the ticking of the clock while she waited for the cop to answer.
Tick-tock, kathump, kathump.
He hesitated as if deciding how much to tell her. She held her breath, hoping he would answer, but dreading what he would say.

Folding his arms across his chest, he seemed to be choosing his next words. “He did this to himself while attempting to chew and claw his way through a door. My guess is he’d been locked up without food, or water, for a few days.”

Breeana’s heart sped up again. “Where is the dog’s owner?”

“I’m sorry, that’s classified information.”

“Classified? Come on, man. The dog’s owner is one of my clients.”

He leaned back against the doorframe, his gaze searching her face. Oh, damn, she could tell by his cop-face mask of indifference—he was about to drop the mother lode of all bombs squarely in her lap. She dredged up her courage and swallowed the urge to flee whatever he said next.

Pulling his badge and identification from a jean pocket, he held them up to her face. “I’m Lieutenant Detective Sullivan Sauvage of the Montreal Homicide Division. This dog is a material witness in a pending investigation.”

Rainey must be dead.
Otherwise, he would have told her. Any residual hope she’d clung to since answering the police summons to treat Bruiser drained from Breeana’s body in a rush.

The floor shifted beneath her feet and the blood nurturing her brain left for parts unknown. She sensed Sauvage trying to reach her before she hit the floor. Fighting dizziness and nausea, she grabbed the edge of the steel operating table, barely managing to stay upright and shove his arms aside.

“I’m all right.”

“Sure you are. I’ve noticed.” The lieutenant clenched his jaw, looking like he wanted to say a whole lot more. “Your skin is as green as swamp water scuz. Maybe you should sit down.”

“It’s nothing, just a touch of the flu.”

Breeana rubbed her hands along her arms. She was unbearably cold and feared she would never be warm again. One quick glance told her the lieutenant still had his antennae twitching in her direction.

She turned her face away from his scrutiny, hunched over Bruiser, and started removing the splinters. Pretended her world hadn’t just spun out of control.

Her son’s voice threaded through the ringing in her ears. “You never said you had the flu. Is it the hurl variety or the blow-your-brains-out-sneezing kind?”

“Give me a break, Cody. I’m trying to concentrate.”

It was all she could do to keep focused and not slide to the floor in a grief-stricken heap. She dug deep for endurance and tried to block everything out, except Bruiser. She couldn’t face the heartache of losing Rainey. Not now. Not with Cody in the room. Not when they both still grieved for Miranda.

Sauvage hovered in her peripheral vision. She felt trapped, didn’t need to see him. His piney masculine scent was a dead giveaway. Why wouldn’t he leave her alone? She jumped when his fingers brushed her shoulder.

“Doc? Why not take a breather and talk to me?”

“Look, I’ve got to get this done. I’m fine, really.”

She inched out from under his big hand, uninterested in his concern. She wanted nothing to do with the man. After all, had the local police launched an investigation into Miranda’s death? No.

Had anyone on the force believed her when she had insisted Miranda was murdered? No again.

The Mallard Bay Police had labeled Miranda’s death an accidental drowning and closed the book on it. A senseless tragedy, they had said, and suggested Breeana take her murder theory to the nearest crime publisher and leave the real crime solving to them. Ha!

“Cody, take the lieutenant over to the sink and pour some antiseptic on his arm, then show him to the waiting room. He’s bleeding on my patient.”

The lieutenant shot her a steely look. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Chapter Two

Sully glanced at his forearm after the boy removed the makeshift bandage, surprised to see a gaping wound oozing blood down to his wrist and between his fingers. The sight and coppery scent caused pain receptors to flare, like they’d only just realized he’d been bitten. He gritted his teeth, counted to ten under his breath, and focused on the vet.

Mistake number one.

Her sleek body clad in workout gear was one hell of a distraction. Against his will, his gaze traveled, taking her in, assessing how long it would take to get her out of all the spandex.
Shit
. The true problem? The doc piqued his interest for many reasons, most of which had nothing to do with his case.

Mistake number two.

He’d tried to adjust when he’d first seen her at the crime scene. Hell, he’d behaved like a jerk, playing the chauvinist card, attempting to screw his head on straight while she choked on the ‘cookie’ comment. It hadn’t worked, not after she blindsided him with frightened eyes, swayed on her feet, and almost passed out from the shock once she realized her friend was dead.

Talk about a damsel in distress.

He scrubbed a hand over his face and risked another glance in her direction. She was still there. Still trembling. Still packaged in an athlete’s body with a riot of auburn hair and the face of an angel.

He tried to switch gears, to categorize her as a person of interest in his murder investigation. He couldn’t. Withholding information about her relationship with the murder victim didn’t mean she was involved.

Hell, who am I kidding?
Her duplicity was huge. Gigantic. The cop inside him reasserted itself and regained control.

He moved back against the doorframe after stepping away from the boy and snagged a fresh towel for his arm. His gaze zoomed in on her as closely as an entomologist would study a new species of insect under a microscope. He noticed how she shifted her bottle-green gaze everywhere in the room but in his direction. A guilty conscience, maybe? Or just plain unimpressed with him and his bad cop routine?

Edging to the table, he ignored her chilling stare, extracted several baggies from his forensic kit, and got to work. Over the next half hour he immersed himself in the job, sealing bloodied splinters and bits of fluff combed from the animal’s fur into individual bags. Labeling and setting them aside for the lab. Swabs of blood taken from Bruiser’s muzzle, teeth and gums were added to the evidence. Sully hoped the lab would find the killer’s blood in the mix. Bruiser may have had a chance to do some damage before being locked in the laundry room.

He intentionally crowded the vet, wanting to see how far she’d take her “I don’t know anything” stance. Brushing up against her, he moved to the Rottie’s hindquarters. The clatter of steel on steel resonated as tweezers tumbled from her grip, clanged against the table, and broke the silence. So did her sharp intake of breath. The woman was a bundle of nerves.

“Cody, please call someone to drive the lieutenant to the hospital. Bruiser took quite a chunk out of his arm.”

“I’m staying with my witness.” End of discussion as far as he was concerned.

“Hey, I’ll drive the lieutenant.” The kid piped up from his perch in the doorway, ignoring him as if he hadn’t spoken. Sully was pretty sure he wasn’t invisible. He returned his focus to Bruiser’s paws, intent on probing the pads and clipping the nails.

“Nice try, kiddo,” his mother said. “You’re only thirteen and don’t have a driver’s license.”

“Aw, come on, Mom. Gramps taught me in the driveway in case of emergency.”

“In your dreams, pal.” Sully’s brain grappled with the vision of the teen behind the wheel of a vehicle.
NASCAR here we come
. “If I ever catch wind of you out on the roads without a license, I will toss your scrawny butt in jail. Are we clear?”

“Sure, Lieutenant,” the boy snickered. “It was just a thought.”

“Hmm, driving without a license.” The doc’s brows shot up. “I hope this doesn’t mean you’ve decided on a life of crime?”

The woman bantered with her son as if the topic of homicide had not reared its ugly head.
She was obviously stalling for time. His gut said she had a story to tell.

What is she hiding? Come on, come on...tell me what you know. Don’t make me drag it out of you.

“Yeah, right.” Cody patted his mother on the head, smooched her cheek, and slid a hand along the sleeping dog’s flank. “If there’s nothing else I can do, I’ll go finish up those cat cages. Since it’s a school holiday, I’m meeting the guys at the deli for pizza.”

“Mmm, pizza sounds good.”

“Sweet, Mom. Can you spot me some cash?”

The doc pulled some bills from her lab coat pocket and handed them over. Sully almost laughed at the exchange. Breakfast was barely over and the boy had already lined up his lunch. Maybe his mother paid his meal ticket just to get him out of her hair. She was still washed-out and shocky looking. So much so, he was tempted to wrap a comforting arm around her.

Whoa, where had the protective urge come from?
Coddling her wouldn’t give him the answers he needed.

She grabbed a cell phone off the counter and tossed it to her son. “Don’t forget your paper route today. Keep your cell on and stay in touch.”

“You got it.” As an afterthought, Cody added as he headed for the door, “Can we take Bruiser home until Rainey comes to get him? Where is she anyway?”

The brilliant flash of tears in the vet’s eyes softened Sully’s initial take on her more than he wanted to admit. “We’ll talk about Rainey later, but Bruiser will come home with us tonight. It’s only fair he stays with people he knows.”

Her son gave a two-fingered salute and sailed out the door.

Sully moved to the doctor’s side and tapped her on the shoulder. “All right, cookie. He’s gone, so let’s have it. Tell me what you know.”

Her gaze jerked to his face, her voice thick with tension. “What do you want me to say?”

“I saw a photograph of you with the deceased at the crime scene. Nice glossy by the way. Sure looked like you girls were great friends.”

Bingo. She froze like a fox cornered in the chicken coop.

“I recognized you the second you walked in the house this morning. Oh, don’t look so surprised. Why didn’t you just tell me you were her friend from the get go?”

She recoiled as if he had just delivered a physical blow. His instinct to calm her down nearly overpowered him. Damn, he couldn’t afford the luxury, not if he wanted to get at the truth.

“First off, my name is not
cookie
—so get it straight. Secondly, I didn’t say anything because I needed to pull myself together. Add that to the fact I was busy treating the Rottweiler and you get the picture.”

Sully wanted to believe her, but he wasn’t convinced. Grieving in silence only proved she had strength of character, not a helpful nature. Instinct said she wouldn’t tell him anything she didn’t want him to know.

How can I get her to open up to me?

He ran a hand along the dog’s smooth coat. “It’s a shame what happened to Bruiser. He’s a beautiful animal. I hope he recovers from his injuries and from losing his mistress.”

“He will,” Breeana said, conviction strengthening her voice. “I’ll make sure of it.”

“I believe you will.” His hand moved from the dog to circle her wrist, turning her toward him. Their gazes fused. “What about Rainey Dubé? Are you willing to help her, too?”

Sweat broke out across her brow, the only indication she had even heard what he said. She shrugged, lowered her eyes, and said nothing.

“Breeana, you may know something that could help find her killer.”

“I can’t talk about this now.” Turning her back on him, she stifled a sob with her hand and pressed a switch which lowered the hydraulic examination table to the floor. Wheeling an oversized crate over to the surgical table, she locked its wheels in place.

“Can I give you a hand?”

“I don’t need your help,” she whispered.

She was right. She managed to crate the dog, then busied herself inserting an IV drip to infuse what he assumed was saline solution and antibiotics.

And never glanced in his direction. Which was all well and good, except Sully had the nose of a bloodhound and a job to do. He wouldn’t be ignored for long.

“Look, there is no way I’m leaving here until you talk to me.”

She spun on him without warning, so fast she tripped over his feet and almost fell. His hands shot out to make the save and she ended up pressed hard against him. Close enough for him to see tears dampening her cheeks, and her mossy eyes widen with surprise. Close enough for him to want a taste of her full mouth.

She still smelled of coconut and lime, a light scent with a touch of spice that sucked the air right out of his lungs. He dropped his hands from her shoulders and took a quick step back. Apparently, he wasn’t the only one affected by their close encounter. She seemed to fight for composure as well. It was another few seconds before she found her voice.

“I will talk to you, but I need a couple of hours to get organized here first. It knocked me for a loop when I realized Rainey was dead. I didn’t know how to handle it, especially in front of Cody.”

“Look, I get it, but we’re alone now and your son’s out of earshot. Just give me a few minutes, then I’m out of your hair. I’m already peeved at you for pulling the stunt with the judge to get custody of the dog. Talk to me now and we’ll call it even.”

Her hand flew out and poked him in the chest. “Can’t you understand why I went to the judge? Rainey doesn’t have any relatives and she would want
me
to care for Bruiser.”

The redhead clearly had a temper to go along with her red-hot looks. Anger was good. It worked better for him than quivering lips and eyes overflowing with despair. The tip of a fingernail scored the skin beneath his shirt. He flinched, tugged on her wrist, and edged closer before she could jab him again.

Her curves fitted his length as if she belonged there. Her woman scent shot straight from his nose to his loins. He scowled inwardly, released his hold on her while wrestling with his body’s unrealistic desire to mold her harder against him.

“Easy, or I’ll arrest you for assaulting a police officer.”