Baxter’s low bark from the front of the house broke into my thoughts, and I went to rescue the EMT.
Mac stood in the front doorway. Just a glance at his eyes, which were warm and soft and not the usual stern ice, melted all my resolve to get through this without crying. Suddenly my cheeks felt wet, and Mac was there, holding me. I tried to remember why I had been mad at him for so long, and couldn’t.
Eventually, I pulled myself away from Mac and wiped my eyes. The paramedic stood in the doorway, averting his gaze. Mac asked me to wait in the living room and limped to the kitchen to begin the long process of investigating the scene. The rest of the county crime-scene crew was due to arrive within the hour.
My thoughts bounced from Tish to Sara and how their deaths could be related. I had actually been suspicious of Tish, but obviously that was way off. That left me with Gary, or Sara’s mysterious website stalker, or Milo. When I realized how little I knew, I thought of Tish and how much I would miss her.
In our shared sorrow over the loss of Tish, Baxter and I leaned against each other and waited.
*
We didn’t have to wait long. After surveying the kitchen and hearing the report from the EMTs, Mac sat with us and began the questioning immediately. What was I doing there? Why did I come over? What had I heard exactly? Did I see anyone?
Feeling about as useful as Baxter, I told him the story of the past hour. I hadn’t seen anyone. I heard the gunshot. Yet again, the only one who could identify the murderer was a dog. Aunt Vi was going to be insufferable.
“Was she still conscious when you found her?” Mac asked.
“She was, but just barely. She told me to take Baxter and said something about his bed.” I rubbed Baxter’s ears, wondering what I was going to do with him now.
“Her last words were about the dog?” Mac scrubbed his face with his hands.
“I know it would have been more convenient if she’d named her killer, but all she said was ‘take Baxter and his bed,’ or something like that,” I said.
“I don’t know what that means,” Mac said, hands outstretched to include Baxter in his disbelief.
“She was barely there, Mac. I don’t know that she knew what she was saying,” I said. I felt my throat tighten as I remembered her struggling to breathe and force out those few words. Her last words had been about Baxter. Had she known? Would she have said something more useful if she’d known she only had a few words left? I looked away from Mac and blinked back the tears threatening to well up again.
“Okay.” Mac put his hand over mine. He stole a glance at his watch. I knew he had a lot of work to do. “Can you drive yourself home?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.” I attempted a smile to show how fine I was. I could tell by the way he searched my face that he didn’t believe me.
“Let’s meet tomorrow morning and go over your statement.”
Just the plan to see him again made me feel better, and I nodded.
“Can I take Baxter with me?” I sniffled, and rubbed my nose with the wad of tissues Mac had quietly handed me.
“Yeah, that’ll be fine. It sounds like she wanted you to have him.”
I packed up Baxter’s things, including his dog bed, which he had never used when staying at my mom’s, and took him out to the car.
Mac walked out with us and helped me load Baxter into the backseat. His method involved lifting all one hundred thirty pounds of dog and tossing him in. It worked better than my system of pushing, pulling, and ending up in the dirt.
“Clyde, be careful.” He put his hand on my shoulder and leaned against the open window. “Whoever killed Tish is probably the one who killed Sara. I can’t believe that after years of no homicides, we could have two unrelated murders in the span of a few days. Just lay low and let us do our job.”
“Right. Okay,” I said. I stared forward through the windshield so he wouldn’t see the new determination in my eyes.
As Baxter and I pulled out, I waved to Mac, who turned and went back into the house.
“Don’t worry, Baxter. I’m going to find out who did this,” I said.
Baxter rested his wet chin on my shoulder and moaned.
19
We were met by a loud babble of voices at the door. There were arms hugging us and questions being asked and it took me a moment to realize who was in my house. My father had been listening to the police band again. He said if my mother can spy on the town with her readings, he should be able to back her up with the police reports. He’d heard the call about Tish’s death on the radio. My aunt and mother had assumed the rest when I didn’t arrive to pick up Seth. They had called Alex, who had called Diana, and I arrived home in the middle of a wake.
Baxter looked exhausted and lay down in the center of the chaos, which was where Tuffy found him. They curled up together as if they understood that they shared a similar tragedy.
Everyone spoke at once as they gathered around.
“Are you okay?”
“Is it true?”
“I was so worried.”