The Devil's Deal by Donna Ball

Author:Donna Ball [Ball, Donna]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: cozy mystery
Amazon: B07K37D63Z
Publisher: Author
Published: 2018-11-28T13:00:00+00:00

TWENTY

Things do not happen quickly in a crisis. In the movies, swarms of cops arrive within minutes, interviews are conducted, evidence is collected; the FBI sets up wire taps, command stations and task forces are organized, road blocks are put in place, and the manhunt is on. In real life, events unfold with maddening slowness. There’s a lot of standing around and talking, a lot of crackling radios, a lot of uniforms moving in and out. The same questions are asked and answered over and over again. Someone said the FBI had been called. Someone else said it would take the State Bureau of Investigation two to three hours to get agents on the scene, and their crime scene van might not arrive until the next day.

Do you know how people say life is funny? As in, a few hours ago, my biggest concern was that someone would try to steal the dog that was in my care, and now a child had been kidnapped. That should put everything into perspective. Well, let me tell you something. It’s not funny at all, and perspective depends entirely on who’s doing the looking.

It was thirty-five minutes before Buck got there. That can seem like a lifetime when someone you love is terrified and in pain.

I let the dogs out of their confinement because the barking was getting on everyone’s nerves and because Aunt Mart kept casting distressed looks toward the door that restrained Majesty. Majesty was far too aloof, and much too well-behaved, to get underfoot, and I knew that just having her near would comfort Aunt Mart. So after checking with Jamie—who was as close to being in charge as anyone was at that point—I opened the door and let Majesty out. Just as I predicted, she trotted straight into the living room, ignoring all the invaders in her home, and hopped up on the sofa beside Aunt Mart. Aunt Mart wrapped her arms around her and buried her face in Majesty’s fur.

I had no intention of giving Bongo free run in a strange house, but he had been such a quiet, well-behaved dog since I’d had him that I didn’t expect any trouble out of him either. I had hung his leash on the coat rack just inside the door, next to Uncle Ro’s battered John Deere hunting cap and a lightweight cotton camo jacket. But the minute I opened the door, before I could even reach for the leash, Bongo charged past me down the hall. I cried, “Hey!” but he didn’t look back.

I thought he’d go toward the front of the house, where all the people were, following Majesty’s scent. But he dashed the other way, toward the back bedroom. When I reached the threshold, I saw immediately it must have been the room in which Celie had stayed: her backpack was open on the bed, her pink Florida hat was on the nightstand, and a pair of child-sized pink slippers was on the floor. Bongo raced from corner to corner, sniffing frantically.

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