“What the hell? Is that…Alastair?” asked Gabe, helping Jenny to her feet.
“It’s sort of a long story,” Harper said, her voice grim.
When Jenny swayed, Gabe scooped her up in his brawny arms.
“Let’s get out of here,” said Harper.
“Right behind you,” said Gabe.
Thirty-Six
Harper pulled up to the curb in front of Ellen’s house. Home at last.
She was bone weary, the cumulative effects of fear, drama, and lack of sleep settling over her. She and Gabe had taken Jenny to the hospital, and she was expected to make a full recovery. At least physically. Harper suspected the mental scars might last longer. Detective Serrano had arrested a babbling and bloody Alastair Highbaugh, who kept insisting he had been assaulted by Isabel Perles and Delilah Mason and demanded the detective take their spirits into custody. Highbaugh went on to confess all: not only poisoning, stabbing, and burying Delilah, but also stealing bones and other historical artifacts from the Perles Mansion, and “helping” Joel Aristide out the window to his death.
Harper was about to get out of her car when the back of her neck tingled. She was being watched.
The big black dog was standing in the middle of the street,just as it had the first time she saw it, what now seemed a lifetime ago.
Harper grabbed her phone and called Marta with animal rescue and asked her to come ASAP.
She reached for the bag of jerky treats in her glove compartment before opening her car door and approaching the dog slowly. Squatting down, she held out a piece of jerky. “Hi there, sweet boy,” she said in a low voice. “Hungry? Treat?”
The dog lowered its head. It gave her a tentative tail wag but did not move.
“Treat?” she repeated, holding up the jerky but avoiding eye contact. “It’s pretty yummy.”
Her patience was rewarded by the sound of his nails clicking on asphalt. She watched him in her peripheral vision as he approached slowly. Cautiously.
“You must be hungry, sweet boy,” she said. She broke off a piece and tossed it toward him. He gobbled it up off the ground.
She tossed the next piece a little closer to her, and the dog came nearer. They repeated this until he was close enough for her to slowly offer him her hand to sniff.
“What’s your story, big guy?” Now that he was close, she saw that a single pearl hung from his collar, like a repurposed earring. She thought of the dog she had seen in the photograph, sitting beside Isabel. It couldn’t be…could it? Surely it was simply a coincidence, and this was just a poor lost dog. And yet…after all she had seen and experienced at the Perles Mansion, Harper decided she was going to keep an open mind.
Maybe not everything had a rational explanation. Maybe it was okay to live with the mystery.
The dog nudged her hand, looking for more treats. “One thing is certain,” Harper said to him. “You arenota hellhound.”
The dog was thin and dirty, with nails that were much too long. Clearly, he had not been cared for in some time.
“Looks like you’ve had a rough go of things, lately. Me, too. Want some water?”
She filled an old cardboard cup with water from the bottle she kept in the car. He drank thirstily and let her pet him.
“Yep, looks like you and I have had quite a day. Or a week. Or two.”
Water dripping from his jowls, he gazed up at her with huge puppy-dog eyes. She scratched him behind the ears. “It sure is nice to meet you, after all this time. What’s your name, then, big boy?”
The van from animal rescue arrived, and Marta and her two helpers were able to get a leash around the dog’s neck. Encouraged by more treats, he jumped into the van willingly enough.
“What happens now?” Harper asked.
“We’ll take him to the vet and scan him for a chip,” said Marta. “And of course we’ll check to see if anyone’s been looking for a big fellow like him, but somehow I doubt it. He’s pretty distinctive.”
“And then what?”
“He’ll be put up for adoption. We’re a no-kill shelter, but I have to be honest: Big black dogs aren’t in great demand. People are superstitious about black dogs and cats, even in this day and age.” She gave the dog one last pat. “But we’ll take good care of you, won’t we, fella?”
