The bastard had put cameras in her home to watch her in her most private moments. He’d gotten her fired from her job, had the IRS seize her accounts…She looked at Boone, who looked as if he might fall down any second. He didn’t appear to have any life-threatening injuries, but God, he looked awful. “I don’t understand,” she said. “How did Dan get the IRS to do what he wanted?”
Boone shook his head, although the movement was tentative. “I don’t know. But we’re going to find out.”
She nodded, but her thoughts had turned to Milo, who was so still. She went over to him and touched his head, terrified. He was warm, and better than that, he opened his eyes a bit. As she ran her hands down his flank, she found the dart and pulled it out of him. He didn’t even whimper. “What did he do to you, sweetie? My poor baby.”
Boone turned on the living room light so she could look at Milo more carefully. He didn’t seem too bad, just lethargic, but she wouldn’t believe he was okay until he was checked out by the vet. She stroked him over and over, her anger and confusion so overwhelming that she started shaking again. “Please be okay,” she whispered. “Please.”
Seth came back in, this time with Kate. He carried a large black bag, and Kate had something gray and bulky in her arms. They were both dressed in dark clothes and Kate had her hair tied back. Seth put down his bag then checked out the nasty cut on Boone’s forehead. “You’ll live,” he said. “We need the keys to her car.”
Boone had them from their last foray outside, and he handed them over. “That’s Dan,” he said. “The psychologist.”
Seth looked at the body. Jesus, the dead body. Christie sat back on her heels, the enormity of what they’d done hitting her like a brick.
“We’ll find out everything we can,” Seth said. “Check out his house, find his car.” He went over to Dan and without hesitation explored his pockets, retrieving a key chain and wallet. “Christie, why don’t you take Boone into the kitchen and clean him up.”
She stood on shaky legs and headed for the kitchen, not looking down, trying not to think about what Seth was going to do with Dan’s body.
Boone brought the big black bag with him and put it on the kitchen table. When Christie sat down, she studied his face and saw that there were only two gashes. They’d bled a lot, but neither of them were bad enough to need stitches. The bruises were a lot more severe. His eye was already turning colors and so was his left cheek and the side of his mouth.
She got up, touched Boone on the shoulder as she went to the sink. She got a couple of clean dishcloths, wet and soaped one, then went back to him. He watched her with his good eye and submitted quietly to her ministrations, only hissing once when she cleaned the worst of the cuts.
After he was clean, she got out some bandages, studiously avoiding the scene in her living room. “Boone, how can we not go to the police?”
“It’s going to take us at least twenty-four hours to check out this guy. If the police are called, they’ll send someone to his house, and they won’t wait for us to finish. And there’s no way we can hold the body until we’re through. Trust me. It’s for your protection, too.”
“Someone’s going to miss him.”
“Most likely, but they won’t connect him to you. Seth will make sure of that.”
“I hate this. I hate that I knew him. That I dated him. I don’t understand why.”
“We’ll figure it out, okay? But you have to trust us.”
“I do,” she said, carefully pasting a butterfly bandage to his forehead. “I trust you.” She examined her work, and decided all he needed now was ice for the bruises. “You know, I thought I’d be relived,” she said. “I’m not.”
“You will be. We’ll go see my hacker friend, Larry, as soon as it’s light. By the time we get back, the house will be yours again. No cameras, no microphones. Nothing at all to remind you of him.”
Seth came through the kitchen and went into the garage. A few seconds later, she heard her car start up. Of course. He’d have to remove the body in secret.
When she looked to the living room, she saw that Kate’s bundle had actually been a body bag. Dan was inside it, in the hallway. Her carpet was matted with his blood, already turning a sickly brown. She thought about what he’d done to her bed, and her anger rose again. There was no doubt at all that they’d killed him in self-defense. If she had remembered to unlock the safety, she would have shot him herself. The man was evil, and he deserved what he got. It didn’t make it easier not to call the police, but if Boone said they couldn’t, then she’d sign on.