The Influence(50)

Shan had several bulldogs that he let run wild, and he was outraged at the prospect. “I see anyone I don’t know, I’ll shoot the bastard’s balls off. That’ll show ’em.”

“It’s probably not anything,” she said, trying to calm him down.

“I’ll shoot ’em!”

It might have been a mistake to call Shan—she wouldn’t be surprised to hear the echoing reports of his shotgun throughout the afternoon as he blasted away at shadows and imaginary sightings—but at least she felt a little less alone. Jill walked back to where she’d left her pad and pencil, planning to continue where she’d left off. But she couldn’t get back into a landscape mode, and when she flipped the page and looked again at her first drawing, she didn’t like the empty space in the center of the picture.

Putting the sketchpad away, she decided to start work early today. She logged onto the telemarketing command center, signed in, called up the script and first list of numbers to dial, clipped on her headset and got down to business.

But in her mind she kept seeing the nearly bald Puka, one eye gone, one eye wild, walking around in a circle in the center of the kitchen, and as she tried to convince people to protect their identities and buy credit card insurance she felt cold.



****



Ross arrived at Jill’s house over twenty minutes late.

She’d invited him for dinner, and he’d promised to be there by six, but things had come up. Shortly before five, he’d gotten an email from National Floor Mats. As Alex had predicted, he’d been offered a work-for-hire job, helping put together a needs assessment for the company’s proposed expansion, and while the consulting position was only for six months, the pay was decent and, as his friend had pointed out, it would boost his resume with more current credentials, He’d immediately emailed back his acceptance, then called Alex to thank him for his help.

By the time he got off the phone, it was nearly six. On the way to her place, already running late, he’d encountered an improbable accident: a fenderbender involving a very masculine looking woman in a beat-up pickup truck, and that internet mogul’s model wife, who was driving a Cadillac SUV. The vehicles were blocking the narrow road, and the two women were standing toe-to-toe in the dirt, lit by headlights, arguing and one push away from a fight. It was all Ross could do to get them to calm down, exchange insurance information and finally agree to move on.

“You’re a witness!” the model yelled at Ross as she got into her SUV. “I’m calling you for my court case!”

The pickup driver shook her head. “Crazy stupid bitch.”

Ross got back in his own car.

To top it off, his cell phone was dead—again—so he couldn’t even call Jill and tell her that he would be late.

As a result, dinner was ready and lukewarm by the time he got to her house. He expected Jill to be mad at him, and wouldn’t have blamed her if she was, but she didn’t seem to mind his tardiness and greeted him with a big kiss. She seemed a little on edge as she led him into the kitchen, and he found out why when they started eating and she told him about the reappearance of her dog.

“Here in the kitchen?” Ross said incredulously.

“And then he took off.” Jill took a bite of her stir-fried chicken, was silent for a moment. “I still don’t know how the door got open. It was closed. And locked. Puka certainly couldn’t open it.”

“Did you call the police? Are there police around here to call?”

“No and no.”

Ross frowned. “What happens if there’s a crime? You have to be able to call someone.”

“The county sheriff, I guess. They’re the ones looking for Dylan Ingram. You heard about that, didn’t you?”

Ross nodded grimly. “His mom’s one of Lita’s friends.”

“Do you think he’s…?”

“I don’t know what happened to him. Hopefully, they’ll find him and he’ll be okay. I guess the searchers told his mom that last year they rescued a boy who’d gotten lost in the desert and was out there by himself for over a week. In the summer. So if he’s just lost, there’s a good chance he’s still okay.”

“If he’s just lost.”

The implication of that hung in the air.

Jill sighed. “I’m not sure I like it here anymore. I’m not sure I feel safe.”

“You can come back with me tonight.”

“It’s not just tonight. And it’s not just this house. It’s…Magdalena.”

His pulse was racing. Was this his cue? Should he invite her to come back with him to Phoenix, suggest that they move in together? Probably not. It was too early, too fast. But while he hadn’t planned to leave anytime soon, eventually he’d be returning to the real world, and if he could get her to come with him, that would be amazing.