After I said good night to Stretch/Chef Zach, he walked down Farm Lane to Fairweather Road, insisting that he’d enjoy the walk back to Moy Mull.
I ran into the house, my body aching for a hot bath and a few hours with my feet up, but after flushing for Sprinkles and giving her and Rocky a treat, I grabbed a powerful flashlight from the mudroom and hurried outside.
All was peaceful as I walked up the hill, but I was troubled. I was certain that object I’d felt on McGillicuddy’s collar was important. If Dandy didn’t have it, it must’ve fallen off.
I swung my legs over the police tape at the end of Aaron’s driveway—so sue me—and followed the flashlight’s broad beam. At one point I pulled up short, stopped by the gleam of light on metal, but it was only a crushed beer can. The smell of smoke and wood doused by the firefighters’ hoses grew stronger as I crossed the stone patio and approached the house. Bits of trash—wrappers, a pie tin, a length of chain, an old watering can—all caught the beam. I brushed aside the singed weeds at the foundation under the window where I’d caught McGillicuddy, but found nothing.
I walked back to the driveway entrance, stepped over the tape, swung the beam from side to side as I crossed the lane to Dandy’s house, retracing my steps from the previous night. Her house was dark, except for security lights on the driveway and by the front door. I pushed the front gate, but it was locked.
I considered climbing over, but I couldn’t bring myself to do more than scan with the flashlight. No gleam of metal, only glorious roses in lush summer bloom. Still, the object could have fallen off McGillicuddy’s collar into one of these flower beds or the house. I’d come back tomorrow and search.