Chapter 20
“People watch one true crime show. Suddenly they’re all crime scene investigators.”
-Celia
I had this nagging feeling in the back of my mind that wouldn’t go away. It felt like I forgot to lock the door or turn off the lights when I left my house, except I was still at home.
I wandered through the rooms in my townhouse, looking for anything amiss, but nothing stood out to me.
Octavio leaving me millions of dollars shook me to my core. I was still shocked why he did this, but knowing my ex-husband, he probably thought he would live forever. He knew I was the only woman in his life who wanted nothing from him, so maybe it was a safe bet to name me as his heir.
Unfortunately, I don’t think he told Echo that bit of news.
I was about to head up to LSS headquarters when someone knocked on the door. A glance at my phone told me it was eight a.m., and no one called or texted ahead of time. I frowned.
When I pulled up the security camera app, Flint’s face stared right at me. I sucked in a breath. After lunch with the twins, he had been in such a weird mood that I made him drop me off and leave.
“Good morning,” I opened the door and smiled at the big lug. He wore black slacks that molded around his muscular thighs and a black button-down shirt, custom-tailored for his broad shoulders. I might have drooled a little bit.
He didn’t move to come in. “We have to go.”
My drool dried up as a cold shockwave rolled down my spine. It added to that uneasy feeling I’d had since I woke up. “What’s wrong.”
“I got a call from Etta,” Flint took my keys and locked my front door. “Something’s going on in that neighborhood. We have to go.”
The uneasiness grew as we headed to Aureus. The ordinarily lazy security guards gave us tight smiles as they waved us through the gates. Technically, I didn’t have to stop at the gate anymore since I now owned Octavio’s house. But I would deal with that a little later. Today, we needed to see what the fuss was at Etta’s home.
When Flint pulled down Etta and Octavio’s street, I noticed security cars blocking most of the road. We parked several houses away and walked to Etta’s.
Etta stood on the front lawn, chain-smoking and letting a string of f-words fly. That might seem like a regular Thursday, but today - she was crying. Tears streamed down her wrinkled face.
“Boss Babe! Flint!” Etta stepped around the security teams and motioned to us. “Get the fuck over here!”
“What’s going on, Ms. Wilks?” Flint asked. “You sounded upset on the phone.”
“Fucking-A I’m upset,” Etta cried. “Someone killed my dog!”
One of the security guards rolled his eyes behind Etta’s back and made the universal sign of “crazy” with his finger around his temple. I glared at him.
“Etta, tell us what happened?” I placed my hand on her arm.
“A couple of days ago, we saw a rabid raccoon in the neighborhood,” Etta began through her tears. “It’s unusual but not out of the realm of possibilities. My neighbor, on the other side, not that cocksucker’s hussy, the other side, saw the raccoon and called animal control. While they searched for it, we were told to keep our animals inside.”
I nodded.
“We did. They caught the raccoon. Took it back to wherever they take rabid raccoons to put the fucker down,” Etta sucked in a breath. “We were told everything was okay. Then, Killer started acting weird.”
My heart clenched. “Did the raccoon bite him?”
“No. At least, I don’t think so. I did take Killer to the vet who said my sweet baby was just getting older,” Etta swiped a tear off her face. “He’s only fifteen. That’s not old! Yorkies can live to be twenty!”
Flint cocked his head. “When was this?”
“Yesterday afternoon,” Etta’s tears began fresh. “I brought Killer home, gave him a special treat, then put him to bed, thinking that fucker of a vet might know what he’s talking about. This morning, when I got up, Killer didn’t come when I called him. I found him in a pool of vomit on his doggie bed.”
Etta finished, leaning into Flint and crying like a baby. Sorrow gripped my heart. Etta didn’t have many people in her life, at least not a lot of people she liked, but she loved that dog. That dog lived better than most humans.
“He threw up?” Flint questioned.
