Rottweiler Rescue (24 page)

“It wasn’t what he said, it was what he did,” Susan said reluctantly. “Jack was there too.”

“Okay, so what did he
do
?”

“He got friendly with Jack. Very friendly with Jack. What she was implying....” Susan stopped, unable to put it into words.

I had no such inhibitions. “Cassie thinks Erich slept with Jack.”

“It’s just gossip. Malicious gossip. But it certainly shows that Erich didn’t hate Jack or anything.”

I said nothing, remembering something Brian had said about looking first and hardest at spouses and lovers. Gossip or no, finding out more about Erich Kohler suddenly seemed important.

“For Heavens sake, Dianne, why is something that sordid making you smile? Susan asked.

“Because what you’re saying doesn’t mean Erich didn’t kill Jack. It means he has the best motive I’ve found so far. Just what I saw of Joyce the other day tells me she’d divorce him in a second if she knew he was fooling around. Divorce him and make sure he had to go back to wherever he came from. And that means Harry Jameson
didn’t
have the best motive, and I’m glad because I like Harry.”

“And you’re going to tell your lieutenant this tabloid-like gossip, aren’t you? Susan said, unhappiness all over her face.

“I’m sorry, Susan, but yes, I am. It’s not evidence but maybe if he looks, he can find evidence. Think about it. What if Erich wanted Joyce’s dogs out of the house not just because he doesn’t like them but because he’s afraid of them. Most of us don’t like what we’re afraid of.”

“Anyone would be afraid of the dogs in the situations you were in,” Susan said.

I didn’t argue. There was no use trying to convince her now. Doubly determined to get Susan on the road as fast as possible, I hustled her back to the house to get the children.

Susan wanted me to leave Millie and Robo and take the few things that fit in the car back to her house in the first trip.

“You know that’s not a good idea,” I told her. “Whoever the killer is, I’m not leaving the dogs alone here for him to find if he comes looking for me. Millie can go with you on this trip and Robo and I will go with you on the next trip.”

My words started Susan on a new worry. “You know you hear all the time about criminals who vandalize people’s homes. It would be a shame if when he found you were gone he got in and smashed your mother’s dishes.”

“He’s not a vandal, he’s a murderer,” I pointed out, giving each of the children a cookie and starting them out the door.

Susan wasn’t giving up on saving the kind of things that mattered to her. “He’s a criminal, and if he’s frustrated because he can’t get to you, who knows what he’ll do. We’ll have room on the second trip. Wesley will probably be waiting at the house with my van when I get back.”

No, he wouldn’t. He’d show up late with a few beers under his belt. In fact he’d be so late that the children’s mother would have come by to get them, aggravated by the need and ready to take it out on Susan.

While Susan was strapping the children into their safety seats, I went to get Millie. She was going to have to ride in the front passenger’s seat tied in place with a harness.

I led Millie out to the car and waited for Susan to finish. Millie dove for a piece of cookie one of the children had dropped then started casting around looking for more. Casting around. The same way Sophie had cast around in the driveway at Joyce Richerson’s, except that when Susan was ready and I chirped to Millie to get in the car, she gave up her scenting easily and hopped into the car without a backward glance.

I remembered Sophie’s intensity, how unwilling she had been to come away from the scent. That led to a reassessment of the way she had tried to pull me into the trees near my car in Feltzers’ driveway. My own words came back to me as I remembered telling Brian Forrester that Sophie had taken the attack on me personally.

I stood frozen as certainty hit me. Erich Kohler had killed Jack Sheffield. Sophie had known since the night in the King Sooper’s parking lot, and she had tried her best to tell me Erich was the one.

As if from a distance, I heard Susan talking to me. “You really need to come this trip. You can squeeze in the back with the children. I’ll ask Wesley to spend the night after he takes the children back to their mother. With both Wesley and his father home tonight, you’ll be perfectly safe.”

Her words brought me out of my reverie. To be killed by Erich Kohler or saved by Wesley McKinnough? The thought of having to make such a choice started me laughing, and Susan looked at me with narrowed eyes.

“I’m sorry,” I said, forcing myself to stop. “My nerves are getting the best of me.” I walked over to her and gave her a quick one-armed hug. “I know this is a pain for you, and I know we’ll be safe. Thanks for doing this.”

Susan’s eyes widened with surprise. Neither one of us was usually demonstrative.

“Please come with us. We’ll be back for Robo in no time at all.”

For once I got to use her own words against her. “Susan, you’re worried about a killer smashing dishes. He doesn’t have to get close to Robo now that he’s using a gun. I’m not leaving him alone here.”

“And how are you going to keep yourself safe until I get back for you?”

“I’ll lock myself in, and I’ll keep the gun in my hand the whole time you’re gone.”

She argued a bit longer, but her heart wasn’t in it. In the end, she started off in a cloud of blue smoke. Watching her go, I thought that staying home alone with Robo was bound to be safer than riding with her in Wesley’s rattletrap.

Back in the house, safely locked in, I called the sheriff’s office and asked for Lieutenant Forrester. A bored female voice informed me he wouldn’t be available until the next day.

“I know it’s his day off,” I said, “but someone from the department called him this morning and got him to do something. I have to talk to him.”

“Do you want to leave a message?” said the voice.

“Yes! Have him call Dianne Brennan. It’s important.”

I sat there, fiddling with the papers the children had scribbled on, going over it all in my mind. Could I convince Brian I was right? Could I make him see how it all fit? And if I could convince him, could he find evidence to justify an arrest?

Deputy Carraher had said if only dogs could talk. In her own way, Sophie had talked, but I hadn’t listened, and she was the one almost fatally hurt.

Thinking of her, I called Dr. Hunsaker’s office again. Sophie was hanging on, no change. I told Hettie I wouldn’t be able to visit her today after all. Tomorrow, I told her, hoping I could keep that promise.

Too restless to sit, I thought of Susan’s worries about my things and decided it wouldn’t hurt to put away my favorite pictures. Sitting still just made me stiffer and moving around seemed to make things better. My mother’s dishes would have to take their chances. I rarely used them anyway. Once I brought the pictures down from the bedroom, I couldn’t decide what to do with them. After considering hiding places for a while, I took them down to the basement and put them behind the clothes dryer. I felt foolish, but it was something to do.

After several trips up and down the stairs with little things, my bruised body had had enough. Calling the sheriff’s office again got me nowhere. The same bored voice tried to put me off in the same way. She wouldn’t give me the number of Brian’s cell phone. This time I wouldn’t be put off. Didn’t he have voice mail?

He did. I left a long message, hoping it made enough sense he’d at least consider it. When the phone finally rang, I pounced, but it was Susan, not Brian, and she was apologizing again.

“It’s just a little thing,” she said. “I’ve heard Wesley talk about it and when the car stalls like this it always starts up after a while. It’s vapor lock or something. We’ll be going again in nothing flat, and I know he’ll have my van back so I can use it for the second trip. I just wanted you to know why I’ll be a little longer than we thought.”

I reassured her. “Everything’s fine here. It was days between the parking lot attack and last night. He won’t be back this soon anyway. Maybe I’ll go over to one of the neighbors. I’ll leave a note on the door if I do.”

Putting down the phone, I felt icy fingers of fear racing up my spine. Brian had said the killer was escalating. Erich had undoubtedly interpreted the way I’d gaped at him when Joyce introduced him as some sort of recognition. In my ignorance I’d provoked escalation.

The brightness was already gone from the day and darkness wasn’t that far away. The neighbors to the east were friends, but they were out of town. To the south was a couple who hated the dogs. The Wilders had gone out of their way to let me know they were waiting for an excuse to file a complaint. Showing up on their doorstep with Robo didn’t seem like a good plan.

Erich would have to break into the house to come after me. He was afraid of the dogs and couldn’t be sure I only had one with me. So what was he likely to do? Set up an ambush outside and wait. Sitting at the kitchen table, I watched the start of a glorious orange red sunset, and I imagined Susan coming to get me with her grandchildren strapped in the car.

She didn’t answer her cell phone. It was probably sitting in the car while she watched some repairman work under the hood. Anxiety built inside me as I sat there, staring at my watch and pressing redial every three minutes. At last she answered.

“Dianne! The nicest man stopped to help us. The car’s running again now. I’ll be home in minutes and back for you right away.”

I didn’t want to argue with her, so I put as much cheer in my voice as I could muster and lied. “You don’t have to come back for me after all. Lieutenant Forrester’s here, and he’s going to drive me over. After we have dinner that is.”

“Dinner,” said Susan, the matchmaker in her taking the bait as I knew she would. “Oh, that’s wonderful. At least I think it is. Did you find out if he’s married?”

“No, he’s not,” I said. “I’ll see you later.”

Knowing Susan wasn’t going to drive into a trap set for me was a relief. Now all I had to do was sit tight and dial 911 at the first sign of trouble.

As the sun set lower
and lower, I sat in the darkening kitchen with one hand on the cell phone and the other on the gun, straining to hear any slight sound outside. But human ears are limited.

It was Robo who heard him, Robo who rose from his bed in the corner and moved toward the sliding glass door. The same kind of deep growl that Sophie had used the night before rolled up from his belly.

My quiet, indifferent dog turned to an avenging fury before my eyes. His lips curled back so far that even in the shadowy room the white of exposed canines gleamed. His hackles rose until the ridge of erect hair bristled over his shoulders and halfway down his back. He crossed the room with a slow, stalking gait.

The meaning of Robo’s incredible behavior finally sliced through my amazement. I dialed 911 and began talking the second the operator answered.

“This is Dianne Brennan.” I gave my address. “Someone has tried to kill me twice and he’s outside my house right now. His name is Erich Kohler. Lieutenant Brian Forrester at the sheriff’s department knows about it. I need help and I need it as fast as possible.”

She wanted details. She wanted to keep me on the line. I dropped the squawking phone and picked up the .38. If Erich was in the backyard with either a handgun or a rifle, Robo and I needed to move to the front of the house away from the glass door.

I hesitated. Some dogs will lash out at anyone who touches them when they are aggressively aroused. If Robo was one of those, trying to get a leash on him and make him come with me might provoke a bite. He was silhouetted against the glass, a clear target for anyone outside.

To hell with it. I grabbed his collar, snapped on the leash, and pulled him toward the living room. He ignored me except to resist my efforts to make him follow. Holding the gun in my right hand, hampered by pain and the sling, I’d never have been able to pull Robo out of the kitchen except that his feet slid on the linoleum and gave him no purchase. Once in the living room, he stopped fighting me, but between nerve-grating growls, he focused intently on something only he could hear.

Was Robo right that the danger was at the back of the house? And if so, what could I do? The house was a trap now, but would running into the night be better? I tried to think of a hiding place away from the house. There was nothing closer than the neighbors, and how could I force Robo to be quiet enough to hide? I was still standing there, dithering, when the glass of the kitchen door exploded inward. Seconds later something clattered across the floor.

The stench of gasoline and whoosh of ignition preceded the ball of flame that engulfed the kitchen by less than a heartbeat. Picturing what would have happened had I still been sitting at the kitchen table froze me in place until Robo jerked at the leash in my hand. He paid no attention to the flames roaring in the kitchen and now focused on the front door as single-mindedly as he had on the back just minutes ago.

Waiting to see if Robo was right this time would be suicidal. I yanked on his leash with all my strength, pulling him to the stairs. He fought me again but this time terror gave me strength.

I yanked and yelled, and when his feet were on the stairs, he stopped resisting and bounded ahead. A front window exploded inward as we reached the top. I didn’t look back.

The windows off the bedroom that served as my office were over a small overhang on the west side of the house. Too small to be considered a porch roof, the overhang merely gave the first floor of the house shade from the afternoon sun in the summer.

I had no idea how much weight the flimsy structure would bear, but breaking my neck in a fall had to be better than burning. I prayed Erich was watching the front door, thinking if I was alive to try to escape the flames, the front door or ground floor windows were the only way out.

The loose-fitting door to the office was a poor barrier against the rising, swirling smoke. Tendrils curled into the air from under the door and around the frame. I pulled the screen off one of the casement windows.