With pillows propped behind her back and head, Danielle leaned against the headboard in the downstairs bedroom. Next to her on the mattress sprawled Hunny, who had been dozing off and on for the last hour, her head resting on Danielle’s right thigh. Max curled up on the end of the bed, napping.
Absently stroking the pit bull’s head, Danielle watched Hunny’s steady breathing. Occasionally, the dog would open her eyes and look at Danielle, as if wanting to be reassured Danielle was still in the bed with her. Once she saw Danielle, Hunny would close her eyes again.
“You sailed through that surgery like the brave pup you are,” Danielle whispered to the sleeping dog, her hand still stroking Hunny’s neck. “You’re lucky you don’t have to wear one of those horrid cones. Walt’s little talk seemed to have worked better than a cone.”
With a deep sigh, Danielle stopped stroking the dog, yet left her hand resting on Hunny’s neck. She closed her eyes, and like the dog and cat sharing the bed with her, she fell asleep.
* * *
Walt, who had been sitting in the living room, trying to read a book—something he couldn’t seem to do with his mind on the dog in the next room—glanced up to the front window when a flash of color caught his attention. He immediately recognized it as Chris hurrying up to the front door from the street, where he had parked his car.
Tossing the book on the end table, Walt stood and walked to the doorway leading to the entry hall. He had just taken a few steps into the entry when Chris came barreling through the front doorway.
“Where’s Hunny?” Chris shouted.
Walt motioned for Chris to lower his voice and whispered, “Not so loud. She’s sleeping, and you don’t want to wake her. She needs her rest.”
“Where is she?” Chris asked in a quieter voice.
Walt motioned for Chris to follow him. When they reached the closed door of the downstairs bedroom, Walt briefly pressed his right index finger against his own lips before gently opening the door.
Standing at the open doorway, both men looked into the dimly lit bedroom, the blinds closed and the overhead light off. Danielle lay sleeping on the bed, the state of her pregnancy obvious. Hunny, her body bandaged, slept next to her. The pit bull rested her sleeping head on one of Danielle’s legs, while Max continued to nap at the foot of the bed.
The men watched the three for several minutes before Walt gently closed the door, leaving it open a few inches so Max could get out if he woke up, and motioned for Chris to follow him to the kitchen.
“I couldn’t believe Heather’s phone call,” Chris said once they walked into the kitchen. “I was going to stay overnight, but I came right home.”
“The good news, Hunny came through surgery like a champ. Fortunately, the bullet did minimal damage. The vet said we could bring her home, providing we keep a close eye on her for the next twelve hours.” Walt walked to the refrigerator and grabbed two beers. He handed one to Chris, who absently accepted it. The two men sat down at the kitchen table.
“You’ll help me get her home?” Chris opened his can of beer.
“Of course. But leave her where she is. There’s no reason to move her. She can just sleep in the downstairs bedroom while she recovers. It’ll be easier for everyone. If she has any sort of pain, she can tell me. And when she needs to go out, I can move her outside—without straining my back or yours.”
“Walt, would you mind if I stayed here? I’ll sleep in the room with Hunny.”
Walt chuckled. “Danielle and I already talked about that. We assumed you’d want to. No problem.”
“So what happened, anyway? Much of what Heather told me made little sense.”
Walt told Chris about the day’s events, beginning with Clay breaking into Heather’s house, up to his arrest. He then told about Hunny’s time at the vet. “When we first brought Hunny home, she was out of it. Ian came down to the vet hospital to help me load Hunny into the car. Or should I say give the appearance of helping me? When we moved Hunny from Heather’s house, it would have been easier had everyone stayed out of my way, but obviously, that wasn’t going to happen.”
Chris gave a snort and took a sip of his beer.
“Once we got Hunny settled in the downstairs bedroom, she started coming out of her fog. I explained to her what had happened and told her if she left her bandage alone, she wouldn’t have to wear an uncomfortable cone on her head.”
Chris chuckled at both the absurdity and convenience of Walt’s special gift.
“After I explained to her what had happened, the first thing she wanted to know, was Heather all right. Then she apologized for not obeying my orders to stay away from the man—but she said she had to help Heather. You have a brave little girl there. She knew the risk of helping Heather. But she didn’t care.”
Tears filled Chris’s eyes. He set his beer on the table and looked at Walt. “She apologized?”
Walt nodded. “Hunny just wants love. She wants to please us. And she’s fiercely protective of those she loves.”
“It’s funny, I initially got Hunny after that fiasco with the hijacking because I decided to get a guard dog instead of hiring a security detail. People always say pit bulls are ferocious.” Chris absently stared at his hand holding the beer can.
Walt chuckled. “When you brought her home, I told myself, this puppy will never be guard-dog material. She had so many fears. She still does.”
“Hunny rose to the occasion.” Chris looked up at Walt. “I didn’t even ask, what kind of damage did she do to Clay?”
Walt shrugged. “Nothing that warranted stitches. Fortunately for Clay, he was wearing a heavy jacket and denims. While I imagine the bites didn’t feel good, Hunny didn’t break any flesh. She didn’t have enough time to do real damage aside from some shredded clothes.”
“Any news on what’s going to happen to Bowman?” Chris asked.
Walt shrugged. “No. Heather’s still down at the police station. She’s been there all afternoon. She hasn’t called.”
* * *
Danielle was still sleeping in the room with Hunny when Brian and Heather arrived. They entered through the kitchen door, with Heather carrying Bella.
“How is she?” Heather asked the moment she entered the house.
“She’s doing good,” Walt said. “She’s sleeping with Danielle and Max in the downstairs bedroom.”
Heather looked at Chris. “How are you? I’m sorry about everything.”
Chris’s weary eyes looked up at Heather. “It’s not your fault. I’m just glad you’re both okay.”
Walt silently motioned to Brian, asking him if he wanted a beer, to which Brian nodded. Just as Walt handed Brian the beer, Bella meowed pitifully. Walt looked at the cat, and the two stared at each other for a few moments until Bella leapt from Heather’s arms and raced out of the kitchen.
“Bella!” Heather called out before going after her. She followed the calico to the downstairs bedroom. By the time she got there, Bella was already up on the bed, nuzzling the top of the now awake pit bull’s head before grooming the dog’s face.
Heather paused in the doorway and watched. A moment later, Chris, Walt, and Brian joined her, standing by her side. In the bed, a sleepy Danielle opened her eyes and looked surprised to find an audience watching them. She rubbed her eyes and then looked down at Hunny now being attentively groomed by Bella.
“Is Hunny okay with Bella up there?” Brian asked, knowing the cat’s history of tormenting the dog.
Walt chuckled. “Don’t worry, Hunny doesn’t mind, and Bella is extremely grateful Hunny saved her human.”
* * *
On Monday evening, Chris ordered Chinese food for dinner, but instead of picking it up, he had them deliver it to Marlow House; he didn’t want to leave Hunny. Chris ordered enough food to feed half the people on Beach Drive.
Ian, Lily, Connor, and Sadie arrived before the food. An hour earlier, Danielle had woken up and had gone upstairs to shower and change her clothes, and she was still upstairs. Chris had been sitting by Hunny’s side when the Bartleys arrived.
After Walt greeted the Bartleys at the front door, he explained to Sadie what had happened to Hunny. Without waiting for Walt’s permission, the golden retriever raced from the entry to the downstairs bedroom. By the time Walt and the others arrived at the open doorway to the bedroom, they found the golden retriever standing by the bed, licking Hunny’s ear.
Chris, who sat on the bedside next to the patient, glanced over at Walt and the others as they stood by the open doorway. “By the way Hunny started wagging her tail when Sadie showed up; I think she’s happy to see her.”
“She is,” Walt confirmed.
* * *
“What’s going to happen to Bowman now?” Lily asked as they all sat around the living room, each holding a plate of food on their laps.
“He has a lawyer, and I imagine he’ll be getting out on bail,” Brian said.
“Bail? They’re going to let him out on bail? He killed Camilla, and he tried to kill Heather,” Lily said.
Brian shrugged. “I’m sorry to say it’s Clay’s word against Heather’s. He’s sticking to the story he gave his brother-in-law.”
“Is he even going to make bail if they set it?” Ian asked.
“I have a feeling Lyons will post bail. He seems to buy Clay’s story,” Brian said.
“Didn’t Debbie admit Clay had an affair with Camilla?” Danielle asked.
Brian nodded. “Yes, but Lyons doesn’t believe that’s motive for murder. He’s convinced Clay knew Debbie found out about the affair, so there is no motive to kill Camilla.”
“But didn’t Debbie say Clay didn’t know she knew?” Danielle asked.
“Yes. But later she walked that back a bit, saying she initially didn’t think Clay knew she found out, but after thinking about it, and things that happened over the years, she thinks he probably knew she’d found out. And because of that, he didn’t have a motive to kill an ex-lover to keep her quiet.”
“I’m just trying to figure out what all this means for me if he gets off,” Heather grumbled.
“Or Hunny,” Chris said. “I don’t want them to come after Hunny for attacking him. If that happens, Hunny goes in hiding.”
The conversation moved to Chief MacDonald and the fact he had to return to the station so soon after his surgery. “How did the chief get home?” Danielle asked.
“Joe said he’d take him home when he was ready. But when we left, the chief was still arguing with Lyons, who felt they needed to suspend Bowman with pay.”
“With pay?” Lily squeaked. “Is he serious?”
“Lyons obviously thinks his brother-in-law is innocent,” Ian said.
“Which means he actually thinks I’m capable of trying to murder a cop with a loaded pit bull and then dispose of the body.” Heather scoffed. “And how was I going to do that alone? Drag him into my bathtub and chop him up?”
Lily looked to Heather. “Then the Glandon Foundation could host a charity barbecue and pull a Fried Green Tomatoes?”
“Oh, good idea.” Heather grinned.
“That’s disgusting,” Chris grumbled. “Seriously, disgusting.”
“Not to change the disgusting subject, but what happened to Camilla?” Danielle asked.
“She came to the station with me,” Heather said. “And after she listened to what Bowman had to say to Lyons, his side of what happened, she decided it was time to move on.”
“She never knew Bowman killed her?” Lily asked.
Heather shook her head. “No. She thought he was going after me so hard because he believed I was the killer. And because of that, she got this fanciful notion that he harbored love for her all these years but denied it because of his children.”
“Some love,” Lily snarked.
“From what Camilla told me,” Heather continued, “when Camilla asked Brian for a divorce, she thought Clay was going to ask Debbie for a divorce, and then the two of them could ride off into the sunset together. But I guess Clay just upped and moved, without telling her, and then she heard his wife was pregnant. She figured that’s why Clay stayed with his wife.”
“Things make a lot more sense now,” Brian said with a shrug.
“I guess I was right about Flora,” Danielle said.
Lily looked at Danielle. “What do you mean?”
“Carter’s caregiver,” Brian explained. “She claims to have a will that Camilla wrote, leaving Camilla’s share of Carter’s estate to her. Camilla claims it’s fake, and the witness to the will was Agatha Pine.”
“Agatha Pine?” Lily cringed.
Brian continued, “Camilla and her brother thought Flora’s fake will was a motive for murder, but Danielle wasn’t convinced.”
Heather turned to Brian. “With all the commotion, I forgot to tell you something Camilla told me before she left. Her family doesn’t have to worry about proving the will’s a forgery. Apparently, Camilla actually had a will—one that was notarized and updated last year, which would supersede Flora’s, even if Flora’s wasn’t fake. She left everything to her brother and sister. A copy of the will is in a box of her personal papers that are with the rest of her things waiting to be shipped here.”
“Why didn’t she mention that when we were trying to figure out how to prove Flora’s will was fake?” Brian asked.
Heather shrugged. “It wouldn’t have really proved Flora’s will was fake, just that it was no longer valid. Although Camilla kept telling me how she didn’t want Flora to inherit her money. Not sure how it slipped her mind until later that she had a will that would have prevented Flora from inheriting.”
“A spirit rarely thinks clearly so soon after death, especially after such a dramatic death,” Danielle reminded her.