“Deputy Vine asked if he could have him,” Olivia said.
Fairchild looked at his papers. “Rescue animals will continue to come and go from the facility as determined by those in charge. No animal will be put to death or set into the hands of those who would euthanize said animal or abuse it. Adoptions will be given due consideration by the entire staff and should continue with majority approval.”
“I say Deputy Vine gets Homer.” Aaron surveyed the room as he spoke. “Agreed?”
“Sure. One less mouth to feed at night—until one of us drags in another,” Drew said.
“Agreed,” Sydney chimed in.
“Hell, yeah!” Mariah said.
“Well, then, that’s it,” Fairchild told them. “My office is available to you. Anyone feeling any confusion is more than welcome to call me for clarification.” He paused a little awkwardly. “Marcus was my client. I didn’t know him that well. But he held each of you in high regard, I do know that. Naturally, none of us suspected he’d be leaving us quite so soon, but...you should be aware how valued and appreciated you all were in his eyes.” He looked at each of them in turn and then at Aaron. “Well, then, I’ll be on my way.”
When he’d departed, Drew and Sydney stood, leaving to attend to their duties. Mason got to his feet, too, and was out the door before the women had even managed to rise.
When the door closed behind him, they were all silent. “Well,” Aaron said brusquely, “that’s it. We start up again right after lunch, so if you want a break, take it now. Thank you all for being here on time, and...” He sighed. “That’s it,” he repeated. “The will’s been read, the die is cast, Marcus is gone. We carry on.”
Looking over at Aaron, who stood near his office door, Olivia shivered.
Aaron frowned at her. “Olivia?”
“Sorry. I just got a strange feeling. Someone walking on my grave, or whatever that saying is.”
“It’s all right,” Aaron said gently. “We all have to get back to normal. We have a legacy to live up to, but Marcus is gone.”
She nodded.
Except that Marcus wasn’t gone at all. He was leaning against the doorway of Aaron’s office, arms crossed, grinning as he watched the proceedings.
He smiled at her and then seemed to fade into the wall.
Was he just letting her know he was around, watching?
Ever hopeful that he’d see or hear something that would help catch his killer?
6
“The one-eyed Persian is Oscar. The old ginger boy sound asleep in the hayloft in Trickster’s stall is Orange Cat. You’ll see about a dozen of them running around, going into and out of the office,” Drew told Dustin. “Marcus was a sucker for just about anything that had a heartbeat, so you’ll see cats, dogs and a few other pets an owner brought home and then tossed. Horses, needless to say. If you see a cat you like or a pup, just talk to Aaron. We’re continuing with the policy of bring ’em in—and if you find a good home, let ’em go.”
Dustin had just admired one of the massive cats keeping “rat guard” in the stables. Now he knew the feline’s name was Orange Cat. Not imaginative, but certainly fitting.
“It’s a wonderful policy,” he said. Drew didn’t seem to mind that Dustin was there and had been for about forty-five minutes. He’d helped bring some of the horses in from pasture and brushed them down. Mariah had an individual therapy session coming up and Mason was taking out a new group.