Irresistible Force (A K-9 Rescue Novel)(42)

Angie leaned in. "Say, you don't look so good. Want me to drive you?"

"No. You guys need a little together time. It's your first official  date." She was surprised she managed a smile. "I'm really happy for you  both."

Angie beamed. "I know. I've liked him for like forever, but did he notice?"

"He has now."

* * *

Every nerve was on full alert by the time Shay turned into her apartment  complex. Why would Eric have anyone stalking her after she had  confessed everything to Cadwallader Jones?

Her head hurt, worse than before. She'd checked her rearview mirror so  many times her eyes had whiplash. Not that she'd know if anyone was  following her. It was dark. The cars in her rear-view were shadowy blurs  behind their headlights. All she wanted was to get to the safety of her  locked door so she could wait for James's call.                       
       
           



       

She passed several lanes within the large complex of apartments and town  houses. She lived toward the back. As she turned into her lane she  thought she saw someone standing in the shadow of the stairwell that led  to a block of upstairs apartments. There were always people coming and  going, she reminded herself. Nothing extraordinary.

But her anxious mind kicked into high gear and wouldn't let go of the sight.

Never wavering from gauging the man's movements, she moved slowly down  the lane to find her designated parking space. As she did so, the man  reached the sidewalk right in front of her. He was wearing a jacket with  the hood pulled up against the chill. And he carried a bundle under one  arm.

As she turned into her spot, he suddenly stopped, pivoted, and ran past her, tossing something at her rear passenger wheel.

Shay slammed on the brake but it was too late. She heard the terrible screech of an animal in pain and then silence.

She scrambled out of her car. What had she run over? It made an awful sound. It must be-

"Oh  …  no!" A long-haired cat lay crushed beneath her rear wheel. She  recognized it as belonging to a neighbor, though it was rarely allowed  out.

A neighbor came up beside her. "I heard a noise. What happened? Ohhh. That's the Sanderses' cat."

Shay straightened up. "There was a man." She swung around straining in  the dark for a glimpse of the figure but he had disappeared.

"What are you talking about?"

She turned back. "There was a man. Standing there." She pointed to the  sidewalk. "I saw him as I turned into my space. He threw the cat under  my car."

"I see." The woman backed up a step. "I'll just go ring the Sanderses' bell."

"Yes." Shay turned and pushed her hips against the rear passenger door,  as if to defend her back as she searched the dark. Who would do-no, why  would anyone do such a thing?

The Sanderses' father came running, with his daughter right behind him.

When he reached Shay, his face was a mix of trepidation and anger. "What happened?"

Shay heaved a shaky breath. "There was a man. He was on the sidewalk as I  turned into my space. He ran past and threw the cat under my wheel."

"Oh, Daddy! Gandalf!" The girl's shriek of pain stabbed through Shay's thoughts.

Gandalf. The wise wizard. Shay felt even worse.

The father turned and grabbed her to his middle, pressing her face away  from the sight. "It's okay, sugar. It's okay." His voice was tender for  his daughter but the expression on his face when he turned his head to  Shay was anything but.

Shay shook her head, her hands rising in protest of the rage on his face. "There was a man."

"Who would do something like that?"

"I don't- Someone." It was a hollow finish.

"Come on, lady. You killed my daughter's pet. You obviously weren't  looking where you were going. At least show her how a grown-up owns up  to something that's her fault."

Shay glanced at the crying girl. The bottom dropped out of her stomach.  "I'm so sorry. I really am. I couldn't stop. It all happened so fast."

The father ignored her and picked up his crying child.

"But there really was someone. He caused me to do it."

"Do I smell beer?" He took a step toward Shay and she instinctively backed up. "You've been drinking!"

"Just one. That smell, a waiter spilled a tray of beers on me."

"You're drunk!" The expression on his face changed. It was worse than  anger. Contempt. Disgust. Fury. "You're lucky I don't call the police.  Driving drunk. Killing children's pets. You're disgusting!"

"I'm not drunk."

He adjusted his child higher in his embrace. "Come on, sweetheart. I'll come back and get Gandalf later."

"I'm not drunk!" Shay took a step toward them. "And I didn't-I couldn't … "

He stiff-armed her out of his path. "Keep away from us or I'll call the cops!"

"The nerve of some people." The do-gooder neighbor followed him back  toward his door. "Wouldn't even take responsibility. I saw it. Saw it  all."

Shay stopped herself from following, biting her lip in frustration as  she met the eyes of the few curious residents who had approached to see  what the argument was about. They dispersed quickly.

There was no use in continuing to protest that it wasn't her fault.  She'd seen the look on Mr. Sanders's face. If she pursued it, he would  call the police. And they would not believe her, either.                       
       
           



       

She'd had a beer. She smelled of beer. Her car ran over the cat. The  fact that it didn't happen the way it sounded wasn't going to bring the  kitty back.

Accused, tried, and found guilty, again. The situation was ugly and familiar. No one knew or wanted to know the truth.

Yet she did. That man had deliberately made her kill that poor cat. And he was still out there in the dark.

Hugging an arm to her queasy middle, Shay swung around, panic seizing  and holding her in place as her eyes searched every shadow for the sight  of the man who had done this. Was he watching her from behind some  bush? Had he heard every word? Was that what he wanted, to start trouble  with her neighbors? Why?

Shay captured a sob before it could escape. Whatever the reason, she'd  given him a bonus by having been the victim of a beer shampoo.

A new thought struck her, one that unglued her shoes from the pavement  and sent her running like a frightened child for her door.

The man and Carly from the bar might be working together.

Maybe they weren't done yet.

She needed help. She needed James.

As she approached her apartment she spotted something on her door, a note. The note simply said "YOU."





CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

The sight of a sheriff at her door an hour later mustered only mild  surprise. The owner of the cat must have called them about the death of  Gandalf, after all.

Shay took her time unlocking her locks. She had showered, brushed and  gargled, put on fresh clothes, washed her beer-soaked ones. She opened  her door a crack with the chain still on, her gaze unwelcoming. "Yes?"

"Are you-" He paused to glance at the envelope in his hand. "Ms. Shayla Denise Appleton?"

Shay blinked. Very few people knew her full legal name. "Why?"

He pushed his hat back with a hand, his expression still bland. "Are you Ms. Appleton?"

"Yes."

"This is for you." He inserted a manila envelope through the narrow space of the open door.

Shay didn't reach for it. "What is that?"

He didn't answer, just held it there.

When she took it, he touched his hat in salute and backed off. "You have been served a summons. Good evening, Ms. Appleton."

Shay held the envelope in two fingers. Every sense was telling her it  wasn't good news. She carried it over to the table where the paper with  the word "YOU" had been dropped. It didn't take her long to figure out  that the sign referred to the crushed cat. It was an ugly threat and  more direct than any of the others.

She went back to her sofa and picked up her phone, then reread James's text for the tenth time.

We need to talk. I'll call late.

She desperately needed to hear a friendly voice.

She had texted him two hours ago, after the cat incident, but there'd been no reply.

She hadn't expected him to stay in touch during the week. She'd even  told him not to bother to call, because she didn't want to be  disappointed if he forgot. Yet he'd texted Good night each evening about  ten P.M. It was ten-fifteen.

She dropped the phone in her lap and let her gaze stray back to the  table. A summons. She wasn't certain what a summons was. Something to do  with Halifax Bank, probably. Or Eric.

Possibilities shot through her like an electric current. What if Eric  was suing her for slander? She'd need to hire a lawyer to defend  herself. She didn't have that kind of money. Couldn't even afford to get  her car door painted. Still, she should know what she was facing.