The Pomeranian Always Barks Twice by Alex Erickson

Author:Alex Erickson [Erickson, Alex]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kensington Books
Published: 2020-01-30T00:00:00+00:00

15

Detective Cavanaugh’s car sat behind Junior’s own in Timothy Fuller’s driveway. Clarence was back, rocking on his front porch, watching on with his coffee mug in hand. He waved as I got out of my car. I returned the gesture, but my attention was mostly focused on the house.

From the front, it didn’t appear as if anything was wrong. I took it as a good sign that an ambulance wasn’t here, and I was pretty sure if it had been earlier, I would have heard it speed away at some point since Meredith lived so close.

Unless someone was dead. An ambulance wouldn’t need to run hot in that case.

I glanced over at Selena’s house as I approached Timothy’s front door. If she was home, she wasn’t outside. I didn’t see a car beneath the carport either.

I knocked on the door, mentally preparing for the worst. Someone had already died on the property once. I wouldn’t be surprised if it had happened again, especially since it was looking more and more like money was involved. Please don’t let it be someone I know.

At my feet, the ceramic Pomeranian still stood watch. I was afraid this was as close as I was ever going to get to Stewie again. The thought didn’t help my mood.

The door opened, and a perplexed Detective Cavanaugh peered out at me. “Mrs. Denton? What are you doing here?”

“I was looking for you,” I said, trying to see past him, into the house. He shifted so his massive frame blocked off my view entirely.

He looked skeptical when he asked, “Why?”

On the way over, I was certain what I had to say would be of dire importance to the case. Now that I was standing there in front of the detective, I wasn’t so sure. What if he arrested me for interfering? What if he went after Amelia? And the more I thought about it, the more certain I became that he likely knew everything already.

Before I could come up with something to say, Junior pushed past the burly detective and shoved a finger in my face. “You!” he shouted. “You did this, didn’t you?”

“Did what?” I asked.

Junior barked a laugh, looked to the sky. “How convenient for you. You just show up here, acting innocent, when we all know the real reason you’re here.”

I looked past the clearly irate Junior, to Detective Cavanaugh. “I honestly don’t know what he’s talking about.”

“You’d better come inside,” Cavanaugh said. “Mr. Fuller, please.” He placed a hand on Junior’s shoulder, and steered him back into the house. Junior complained the entire way, but at least he went.

I followed them inside, but only made it a few steps before I came to a shocked halt just inside the door.

The house was a disaster.

The couch cushions were shredded, as if by a wild animal, as was the couch itself. Anything and everything that could be moved, had been. Even the expensive medical equipment, which I imagined would be going back to a hospital somewhere once the investigation was over, had been opened, electronic parts scattered about the room.

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