I Kissed a Dog

chapter 6

The rest of the day passed in a blur.

The park stayed open. With the tourist season in jeopardy, it would have been unwise for Luke to shut down. Business soared. People were fascinated by death and destruction. And our little serial killer, who I now believed was female, was attracting plenty of attention.

With hesitation, I’d revealed every detail of my grisly vision with Detective Davis and Agent Green. Both, to my amazement, appeared to believe me, at least they hadn’t locked me in a rubber room. Agent Green had demanded additional details about the woman, for some reason hung up on the color and style of her hair.

Zane had listened to my summary with his jaw twitching and fists clenched. He seemed to be experiencing an internal battle, remaining sullen.

As I’d expected, there were a number of key elements being kept from the media. Agent Green did go on record with the information about a woman being involved in the slayings. All other details had been kept confidential.

Luke found me alone by my cubby. I stared at the wall unsure what to do next, dreading my evening commute back to Florence.

Luke patted my shoulder. “You okay?”

Tempted to snap at him for his ridiculous question, I bit my lip instead, deciding he didn’t have a clue what else to say. Conversations were always strained following a death. Not just any death, but the brutal killing of a mutual friend.

“I’m okay,” I lied, relieved that what felt like the longest day of my life was over.

“It’ll be different around here.” He leaned against his desk, watching me clean out my cubby. “Do you want to grab a drink?”

I paused. We’d never had a drink together. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to spend my personal time with Luke. I understood his reasoning. With Will dead, and our unacknowledged attraction, it made sense. Still, my internal alarm system was chiming away. Warning that in my current condition I might turn to Luke for comfort. I’d regret that big time.

No. I wanted to go home — alone — and cry.

“Thanks for the offer, but not tonight.” I could tell he was disappointed.

“Well, all right. If you need tomorrow off, I understand,” he offered sounding drained.

“I’ll be here.” Staying home stewing about what I’d witnessed wasn’t an option. “You take care.”

When I reached my car, I was shocked to see Zane’s Corvette next to mine. He stood by the rear bumper, staring into the distance. “Good, you’re here.”

“And?” I tried to hide my excitement, and frustration. How could one man conjure such opposing feelings? I’d just rejected a man I’d known and liked for years, but was giddy over an almost stranger.

“I just figured you could use a friend.” He shrugged. “We could go Dutch on drinks.” His dark eyes bore into mine, sending chills down my spine.

Ignoring the fact that moments ago I’d told Luke no, I decided to throw caution to the wind. “Sure. Where?”

“You live in Florence, right?”

“I do, but you haven’t told me where you’re staying.” I still knew nothing of substance about Zane Marshall.

Well, that wasn’t one-hundred-percent true. I knew he liked me and considered me a good woman. I knew he had the power to enrage or encourage me. Most important, I knew there was a connection between us unlike anything I’d ever experienced. I just didn’t know where he lived.

“I’m not sure about a permanent location. For now, I rented a place a few miles out of town. I’ll find a good deal on a house soon.”

Satisfied with his answer, I decided to choose a spot where I felt comfortable and was close to home, ensuring I could take my own car. “If you don’t mind following me up to Florence and backtracking after, we could go to Joni’s Bar and Grill. They have good specials.”

An hour later, we were once again seated across from each other in a corner booth. This time, the lights were dim and tendrils of smoke curled upward from the crowded tables. The smell of liquor and boisterous laughter filled the rustic bar giving it a certain appeal.

“Is this becoming a habit?” Zane grinned from behind his menu.

“No!” It’s just been a strange day.”

Because the truth was, no matter how strange a day, or how much I resisted Zane, spending time with him was enjoyable, and watching the women watch him added an interesting twist, one I hadn’t experienced on this level before. Not that the guys I’d dated before were bad looking, they just couldn’t compare to Zane. I wasn’t sure any man could, and I knew it wasn’t just his good looks I appreciated.

“Strange yes, but I’ve never enjoyed the company so much.”

A perky waitress, I didn’t recognize, saved me from responding. As expected, she almost drooled at the sight of Zane, who ordered without hesitation, “I’ll take the largest steak on the menu, very rare, and whatever beer you have on tap.”

“Chef Salad,” I piped up, realizing she was still staring at my companion, ignoring my presence. Was I invisible? Considering the number of men who dared sneak a look my direction, I guessed not.

“You sure have your share of admirers,” Zane noted with a hint of annoyance.

“Nothing compared to you. I thought our waitress might slobber or hang her tongue out. I bet she’s still panting.” I watched as she moved to another table, reluctant to turn away.

“Are you jealous?” He asked; his lopsided grin back on display, dimples and all.

Was I? I hadn’t been jealous for a long time.

“Well hello, Zane,” a sultry female voice interrupted our banter. “How unexpected to find you here.” Her eyes traveled over the room with obvious distaste.

“Jazmine,” he growled, not pleased by her intrusion.

“Mind if I join you?” Without hesitating, she glided into the booth beside him, resting a hand on his bicep. Her bright crimson nails shimmered; her malice-filled eyes, dark like Zane’s, gleamed at me.

“Can I get you anything?” The perky waitress returned, looking as aggravated by the new woman’s presence as I was.

“I’ll be just a moment.” A curt wave dismissed the girl. Ms. Perky marched off. I sympathized with the waitress’ wounded pride.

Jazmine was as stunning as she was ice-cold. I didn’t need to see the tags to know she was a Designer Fashion Week regular. Her sheen black hair was cut in a neat geometrical bob that framed her face, drawing attention to her sculpted cheekbones and heart-shaped lips. Her makeup was applied with such obvious expertise that I thought of a model I’d seen on the cover of Vogue.

That model had looked genuinely happy, this woman oozed of cruel intent.

“You’ve been avoiding my calls.” Jazmine sulked, caressing Zane’s arm with her graceful fingers. He shook her off.

You’ll be my mate. Tradition requires it. Her eyes flashed with a myriad of emotions.

My jaw dropped, turning my gaping mouth into a capital O. The woman’s bizarre thought had permeated my mind. Realizing how I must look, I shut my mouth and reached for a slice of bread.

“I told you I’m busy with business. We’ll talk at the scheduled time. And be aware; your behavior is not earning you any points,” Zane snapped.

“Oh, now I have to earn points.” She tsked. “I’d hate for you to lose …”

“Enough!” he growled.

With one final, scathing glance my direction, she rose fluidly and vanished out the door

Following her exit, the noise returned to the room.

It was then I recognized that following her arrival, everything had somehow revolved around her. She reminded me of a predator stalking its prey. All the other “animals”, had remained silent, hoping to avoid the hunter’s detection.

I hadn’t succeeded in avoiding anything.

She was well-aware of my existence, and she already abhorred me. In one meeting I’d become the mysterious woman’s enemy. Between her and Rhonda, I was pretty unpopular.

“Don’t mind Jazmine.” Zane guzzled his beer.

Stunned by his casual comment, I leaned forward, ready to battle. “You’re kidding, right?” I didn’t wait for an answer. “Some crazy woman, with eyes like a rabid dog, comes in, and from what I could tell, pretty much threatens you. Oh, and I guess you didn’t notice the way she looked at me.”

“Your dinners.” The waitress slid our heaping platters in front of us and hurried away. Smart woman!

Zane grabbed his knife and fork and sliced into a steak big enough to feed four. He tore off a huge chunk of bloody beef and swallowed it whole.

I struggled not to gag. Sure, I liked red meat, but not when it was still mooing.

“I’ll deal with Jazmine. She’s just a business partner. She likes me; I don’t like her. End of story.” He tore off another piece, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. Realizing I was watching him with disgust, he grabbed a napkin and wiped his chin.

“What type of business?” I couldn’t begin to eat until Zane finished. At least he had one glaringly imperfect trait, he ate like a savage. He must have been on better behavior during lunch.

Leaning back for a minute, he considered his words. “We both do work for a chain of casino resorts in Washington and Nevada. We’ve had some issues with one of our Washington locations.”

“Which one?” I half remembered reading something about a Washington Indian tribe hoping to develop casino sites off their reservation. I also recalled there’d been an alleged murder associated with the request.

“Wild Winds.”

“Wasn’t there a murder up there last year?” Of course I’d remembered. My memory was impeccable.

“Will anything I say convince you I’m just a regular guy with a normal, sometimes dysfunctional life?”

“It’s the dysfunctional part that concerns me.” I tried not to smile. Zane had devoured his steak and seemed eager to put an end to my questioning. Maybe I could let go of my suspicious nature for the rest of the evening. After all, I’d have day after day at work to scrutinize him.

“And you’re not at all dysfunctional?” He cocked his head, reminding me of the cute Pit-bull puppy I’d interviewed earlier.

“Fine! You win!” I stabbed at my salad, no longer able to ignore the painful grumbles. “If I had a middle name, it would be dysfunctional.”

Several drinks later, we were chatting away like old friends, Jazmine and his gruesome eating habits forgotten.

For the first time since I could remember, I shared the entire coma incident story. Zane was an adept listener, nodding at the right times and commenting when appropriate. For the most part, he let me talk. I’d forgotten how good it felt to open up with no agenda. Talking about my gift was a huge relief.

“You’re a pretty darn good listener, Zane Marshall.” I could tell the glasses of wine had done their magic, lubricating my libido. As a very sporadic drinker, it didn’t take much.

“Why thank you, lovely lady. By the way, your skin tone is fabulous. May I ask your background?”

Usually people ho-hummed around, afraid to ask questions about my ethnicity. I’d always wondered what the big deal was. My caramel coloring was courtesy of my Caucasian mother and my real dad’s half African half Native American heritage. Bob, my illustrious stepfather, was as white as white can be.

“I’m a smorgasbord.” I giggled, realizing my mistake too late.

“Um, I love a good smorgasbord,” he all but groaned, his eyes growing smoky. I want her.

I felt a jolt of primal hunger so intense I was afraid I might climb across the table and into his lap. Astonished that those three simple words had managed to escape from behind his mental barrier, I tried to listen for more. The wall had returned, but his eyes smoldered with anticipation.

All I had to do was reach for him.

My breathing grew ragged as he watched my internal struggle.

“I need to get home,” I managed to stutter. “Work,” I apologized, as if he didn’t know my schedule. Defying my still-pounding heart was as impossible as ignoring a stampede of wild horses. I wondered if he could sense my desire and uncertainty.

“As you wish,” he said, his voice husky.

I jumped up before I could change my mind. “I need to use the ladies room.”

Touching up my makeup, I tried to find my usual composure. It wasn’t easy. Closing my eyes, I breathed in through my nose, starting my proverbial counting routine.

As soon as my mind relaxed, a flood of words rushed in.

He’s in there. I saw Jazmine leave. She looked pretty pissed.

What’s new? She’s a bitch.

Laughter.

Let’s deliver our message to Zane and have a little fun with his female.

She’s human.

Your point?

How many were there? I wasn’t sure, but at least three men were waiting outside the bar, and their intentions for us were far from honorable.

Zane was finishing his beer when I rejoined him. He sensed my mood change.

“What happened?” He slammed his glass down. “Did she come back?”

“No, but someone wants to hurt you. There’s a group of men outside waiting for us. Don’t ask me how I know, because until today, I could only read animals, but somehow I can now hear specific people. They mentioned Jazmine.”

“Great. I didn’t want to drag you into my personal problems.”

“I take it this is part of the dysfunctional stuff,” I snapped, feeling let down. Though a part of me wanted to believe he was protecting me.

“You stay in here. I’ll handle this.”

“Oh no! You’re not leaving me behind. What if something happens to you?” Just then it occurred to me that there were people trained to deal with stalking psychopaths. “Why don’t we call the police?”

“Not a good idea.” Zane was on his feet. His features had morphed from relaxed to intense. He reminded me of a vicious dog. “Is there any way you can sense where they’re positioned?” He sniffed the air.

“I’m not sure. I can try.” I closed my eyes and attempted to erase the terrifying images I’d already conjured in my mind. The voices returned. I could visualize the men. There were three — one by the Corvette; two in the woods behind the restaurant, around thirty feet from our vehicles. They were contemplating entering the bar.

“They’re tired of waiting,” I warned. “Three males, all near our cars. Two out of sight, hiding in the brush.”

“Them coming in here is not an option.” He swung around giving the room a once over. “Too many people.”

“Zane, some of these locals are pretty tough. Why not get some help?” I couldn’t fathom why he was so hung up on doing this alone.

Before I could comment further, he stalked from the bar, ignoring my calls for him to wait.

Men! I decided to do the one thing I could — eavesdrop.

Seeing the check had been paid, I grabbed my purse and hurried to the entrance. There were benches hugging the lobby walls and the area was deserted. Away from the crowded bar, I could pay better attention to what was happening outside.

Who sent you? Zane demanded.

Don’t play coy, Marshall. The Indians are on to you. They don’t like our kind.

Your kind is the problem! Zane growled, sounding more feral than human.

That’s right. I forgot; you’re one of those high and mighty purebreds. In their eyes we’re all the same.

The talking stopped and fighting started.

In my vision, I heard a series of vicious dog-like snarls and an ear-shattering roar, followed by what sounded like bones snapping.

Too afraid to do nothing, I charged for the door, forgetting my aversion to dogs and danger.

***