22

Stewie yapped and then skipped sideways, tail wagging a mile a minute. In response, Wheels rolled to his left, circling the excited dog, causing Stewie to spin so fast, he very nearly fell down.

“They look like they’re getting along,” Manny said, leaning over to kiss me on the cheek before tossing his keys on the coffee table.

“They’ve been playing since we got home,” I said, smiling. I was sitting on the couch, cup of coffee in hand as I watched the dog and cat play. When I first brought Stewie in, he didn’t seem too sure about the cat with the wheels strapped to her backside. After only a few minutes of sniffing—and a playful swat or two—they’d seemingly become best friends.

Manny sat down beside me, letting loose a heavy sigh as he landed. He pulled off his shoes and then rubbed at his arches. “He’s handling it pretty well, all things considered.”

“He is. For as mean as Timothy Fuller was to everyone around him, he really did care about his dog. And then when you consider the time Stewie spent with Junior, it’s no wonder he’s in a good mood now that he’s not around him anymore.”

“Mm-hmm,” Manny said in agreement.

Wheels spun in a tight circle, causing Stewie to lose his mind and start hopping on stiff legs as he yapped excitedly. The cat came to a stop, staggered two steps, and then rolled toward the Pomeranian, who fell over backward, before leaping to his feet and running away. Wheels, of course, gave chase.

I watched them go, still smiling. Wheels was used to having other animals in the house since we were always temporarily fostering them, but I wondered if it might not be a good idea to get her a permanent play buddy. It didn’t have to be a dog. Another cat would work. Even a rabbit or a ferret would, since Wheels had never been violent toward any other animal before, regardless of species. I’d brought in a guinea pig once, and the two of them had played like the best of friends.

I sipped my coffee and sighed in contentment. For the first time in what felt like a long time, I was relaxed. Just because Ben was in trouble, it didn’t mean I had to wallow in misery.

Of course, merely thinking of Ben caused my smile to slowly fade. Here I was, sitting in the comforts of my own home, watching the animals play, while he sat in a cold cell, on a hard cot, fearing for his future. What kind of mother was I?

“Where’s Amelia?” Manny asked, working at his other arch. Normally, I would have offered to give him a foot rub, but I was afraid to put down my coffee mug. As much as I’d like to think I was holding it together, I was one more disaster from completely losing it. I was grasping the mug like it was my sanity.

“In her room,” I said. “She came home a little while ago. I think she’s studying, but you’d have to check on her to be sure.”

“Amelia!” Manny called, though we both knew it would be no use. He gave it a count of three, and then rose. “I’ll be right back.” He headed for her room, where he’d likely find her sprawled across her bed, earbuds crammed into her ears, with the music loud enough that everyone in the room could hear it. It was a wonder that she wasn’t deaf by now.

I considered getting up and warming up some food for Manny, who’d worked late tonight. Apparently, he’d gotten an emergency call that turned out, thankfully, not to be as big of an issue as first assumed. Amelia and I had eaten quietly, conversation focused mainly on the Pomeranian, before she’d retired to her room. I assumed Manny had already grabbed a bite to eat since he hadn’t said anything when he’d come in, but I couldn’t be sure without asking him.

I waited until Manny returned before finally rising from my cozy spot on the couch. He made directly for the kitchen, and I followed him in, thinking I’d make the offer to heat something up, when I noted a bag sitting on the counter.

“What’s that?” I asked.

“A cake,” he said, pulling said dessert free. “For our little celebration tonight. I picked it up on the way home, figuring you wouldn’t have had a chance to grab something. I guess I should have called and asked. You didn’t bake anything, did you?”

I stared at him blankly for a long couple of seconds before it dawned on me. “For Amelia?”

He popped the top of the plastic container, revealing a chocolate cake. Nothing was written on it. “I wasn’t sure what to grab,” he said. “So, I went with chocolate. No celebration would be complete without cake, am I right?” He grinned.

“What are we celebrating?” Amelia asked, coming into the room. Her phone was shoved into her pocket, earbuds hanging loose around her neck. I could hear the buzz of music coming from them.

I went to the cabinet to retrieve plates, figuring I’d let Manny take the lead on this one.

“You!” he said, wrapping her in a hug, which she stood stiffly for. “I heard you’ve finally found your calling. I couldn’t be happier for you.”

“Really, Dad?” Amelia said, face growing red as she pulled away. “You don’t need to do this.”

“Oh, yes I do.”

Amelia looked to me for help, but I merely shrugged.

“Fine,” she said, though I could tell she was pleased. “I want your icing.” The last was directed at me.

“It’s all yours.”

Manny cut each of us a piece of chocolate cake. I scraped off the icing on my piece and slid it over onto Amelia’s plate. I liked cake, but I wasn’t a big fan of ultra-sugary icing. I could stand it in small quantities, but I’d usually split it between my children just to avoid the inevitable tummy ache. Now, without Ben, however . . .

No, Liz. Enjoy this.

We carried our plates to the table, and I went back for some milk. Nothing went better with chocolate cake than a cold glass of milk. The same went for cookies, and pretty much any dessert, if you asked me. I poured three glasses, and Amelia came in to carry hers and Manny’s back to the table. Once that was done, we sat down, and immediately dug in.

“No,” Manny said when Stewie realized we were eating and rushed over to his side. “You can’t have chocolate.”

Stewie yapped in response, and then tore after Wheels, who zipped by, swatting at the dog’s backside as she sped past.

Amelia laughed, which made the ache in my heart ease. I kept telling myself I’d focus on the good things in my life, yet every time I turned around, I was thinking of Ben and everything that had gone wrong over the last couple of days.

“So, what have you learned about being a detective?” Manny asked, shoving a piece of cake into his mouth.

Amelia shot me a worried look before answering. “Not much,” she said, easing around the issue. Like me, I wasn’t sure how Manny would take it if she admitted to looking into her brother’s case on her own. “I really only just got started.”

“Have a good teacher?”

“A couple of them.” She chewed, focusing a little too hard on her cake.

“She has a mentor,” I said. “Apparently, he’s been showing her the ropes.”

“Really?” Manny said. “He put you on any cases?”

He’d meant it as a joke, but Amelia didn’t take it that way. She immediately stiffened, a panicked look coming over her face.

Manny looked from her to me, eyebrows slowly climbing.

“I, um . . .” Amelia cleared her throat, and then looked to me for help.

Decision time. On one hand, Manny had every right to know his daughter was looking into his son’s case. He’d worry about her, but that’s what parents were supposed to do.

Then again, adding that worry to everything else might push him over the edge. I’d never known Manny to freak out too badly about anything, yet we’d never experienced anything quite like this before.

In the end, I opted for the truth. “She looked into someone involved in Ben’s case,” I said. “It’s just your basic background check, so she isn’t putting herself in any danger.”

Okay, so maybe I chickened out and didn’t tell him the whole truth. Everything had turned out fine, and I doubted Amelia would be knocking on any other murder suspect’s door any time soon, so there was no need to worry him.

Manny’s brow furrowed in concern for a moment, before he smiled. “Well, if you learn anything, be sure to tell that detective. What’s his name?”

“Detective Cavanaugh,” I provided.

“That’s the one,” he said, pointing his fork at me. “Maybe if you come up with something useful, he’ll decide to take you on as an intern or something. Are there detective assistants?”

“Not really,” Amelia said, still blushing furiously.

“Well, there should be,” Manny said. “I’m sure he’s under a ton of stress, and could use someone to help him out with the small stuff.”

Thankfully, conversation turned to more pleasant things then—mainly Stewie and Wheels. The dog looked ten years younger as he ran around the house, chasing after the cat. I think the sound of Wheels’s wheels on the hard wood had a lot to do with that. Every time the cat zipped by, Stewie’s ears would turn, and then he’d bounce after her, yapping away.

I knew it had to be getting on Joanne’s nerves, but right then, I didn’t care. If she came knocking, I’d put her in her place, and then walk away. Let her call the police. There wasn’t anything they could do.

We finished our cake slices nearly at the same moment. Amelia begged off seconds, claiming she had to study. Manny considered another, but opted to head for the shower with a warning that he was likely going to bed early tonight. He was yawning even as he left me alone with the animals.

I was tired too, but wasn’t so sure I’d be able to sleep. I put away the cake, cleaned up the dishes, and then decided it might be a good idea to at least try to catch a few hours of shut-eye.

“Come on, Stewie,” I said, leading the dog toward the room where he’d be staying the night. He ran inside, sniffed at the food and water, and then turned to me and whined. Wheels was behind me, watching, a forlorn look on her face. She knew what the room meant; it would be the end of her playtime.

“I can’t watch the two of you while I’m in bed,” I said, but even as the words came out of my mouth, I knew I wasn’t going to press the issue. “Fine,” I said, stepping aside. “Have at it.”

Stewie rushed toward Wheels, who spun in a wide circle. Her left wheel caught the wall, nearly tipping her over, but she managed to right herself and speed off before the Pomeranian could catch her. She skidded around the corner, and they were off toward the kitchen.

I let them play until the shower shut off and I heard Manny getting ready for bed. I forced the two of them to stop playing for a few minutes so I could take Stewie out for his nighttime potty break. He made quick work of it and whined to get back inside. As soon as Wheels saw him, she took off.

“Please, try not to destroy the house tonight,” I said, as I checked to make sure all the doors were locked. Once that was done, I headed to the bedroom. Manny was lying in bed, eyes already closed, and was snoring lightly. Amelia’s light snapped off as I got dressed in my PJs, telling me she was heading to bed as well.

I climbed beneath the covers, and despite the certainty I’d be getting no sleep, I found myself dozing off almost immediately.

It felt like a single minute had passed when my eyes shot open. I sat bolt upright in bed, head swimming with sleep. I had no idea what had awoken me, but whatever it was, it had Manny up too. He looked to me, eyes wide, and then quickly stood and went to the window to peer outside.

“What was that?” I asked as Amelia’s door opened. She poked her head out, hair a mess atop her head. I vaguely recalled hearing something, but couldn’t place what it was that had woken me.

“I don’t know,” Manny said, keeping his voice low.

Somewhere downstairs, Stewie started barking and growling. I was on my feet in an instant, heart pounding in my ears.

“Stay in your room,” Manny hissed, pointing at Amelia, who looked like she might argue at first, but thought better of it as she ducked back into her room and closed the door.

I started to follow Manny out of the bedroom, but he shook his head, pointing toward the bed like he expected me to stay there. I, of course, ignored him. There was no way I was going to stay behind when the animals could be in danger.

Please, let it be something the animals broke. But I knew it was unlikely, not with the ruckus the dog was making. Stewie didn’t sound like he was barking at a broken vase. Something—or someone—was out there. I didn’t know if it was in the house, or outside it, but something was indeed prowling around.

Manny peeked around the corner at the bottom of the stairs, and then started to back up, only to bump into me. He gave a little yelp, and then glared when he saw me.

“I told you to stay in the bedroom,” he whispered.

“Is someone out there?” I asked, refusing to get into it. I was already there, so there was no point in arguing.

He nodded. “I saw a shadow move outside. I’m going to call the police.” He retreated back upstairs, and into the bedroom, where his cell phone was charging.

The smart thing to do would be to follow him and wait until the police arrived, but Stewie was really barking and growling now. I’d also heard the faint tinkle of glass, as if someone had knocked a few shards free from a window. It was followed by an increase in the yaps, and I knew someone was trying to get inside.

Instead of heading for the bedroom, I found myself moving toward the dining room and the sound of the barks. I would not allow anything to happen to Stewie—not on my watch. I slid into the dining room, to the hutch there. I remained at a crouch as I opened the drawer and removed a large pair of scissors I kept there. Duly armed, I made for Stewie, who was at the back door.

I saw nothing at first. Wheels was nowhere in sight, and I hoped that meant she was hiding somewhere safe. Stewie was lunging at the back door, and I thought I heard someone hiss in a pained breath. Good dog, I thought. I hoped he’d drawn blood.

Scissors clutched in hand, I eased forward, eyes wide in the dark. I couldn’t see much of anything, at least, not at first. A hand appeared, reaching in through a busted window beside the back door. Fumbling fingers reached for the latch, but before they found purchase, Stewie leapt up, teeth gnashing. The hand withdrew quickly.

Heart in my throat, I considered my options. Someone was trying to break into my house, but Stewie was holding them at bay for now. How much longer before they risked a bite to get inside? So far, it didn’t appear as if the would-be thief had noticed me. The only lights on inside were two night-lights. One was upstairs in the hall by the bedrooms, the other in the hall near where the fostered animals would stay. No lights were on outside, and the moon was mostly covered by clouds, making it practically pitch-black out there.

I could very likely get to the door without the would-be intruder knowing, and then stab them in the hand when they next reached through. But, Stewie might react to my presence, giving me away.

And what if they have a gun ?

There was no question who would have the advantage then.

But I couldn’t stand there and do nothing.

I started forward, not sure what I was going to do, only knowing that I wasn’t going to let whoever was outside in. I was almost to the door, scissors poised and ready, when the dining room light flicked on, blinding me.

“Liz?” Manny asked, but I paid him no mind. A yelp, followed by the sound of scuffling feet, told me the intruder was beating a hasty retreat.

I rushed for the door and tried to jerk it open, but was stymied by the lock. Cursing under my breath, I flipped the lock, opened the door, and hurried outside, making sure to close the door behind me so Stewie wouldn’t follow me out.

Eyes scanning the dark backyard, I didn’t see anyone at first, and then I noticed movement to my left. It was a person, but they were wearing a hoodie, with the hood up, and loose-fitting pants, so I couldn’t tell if it was a man or a woman. They weren’t much bigger than me, which I took as a good sign. If it came down to a struggle, I hoped I could hold my own.

“Hey!” I shouted, scissors still clutched in my hands. “Stop!”

Needless to say, they didn’t listen.

I gave chase, but after only three or four steps, I stopped. I was in my bare feet, in my pajamas, with only scissors for a weapon. Not only was it unlikely I’d catch the intruder in my current state, but I had no idea how well prepared they were for a fight. A knife would work just as well as a gun at stopping me.

“Liz!” Manny shouted behind me. He sounded panicked.

“I’m okay,” I said, turning back to him. The intruder was long gone. An engine fired up down the street somewhere, and wheels screeched as the intruder raced away.

Manny gathered me into his arms. “Don’t do that to me!” he said, hugging me tight.

“I’m all right.” I turned back to the house so he wouldn’t see the worry in my eye. I might not be hurt, but I was trembling. Someone tried to break into my house! “Let’s get inside.” I said, voice surprisingly strong. “They’re gone.”

Manny peered into the darkness, and then nodded.

Together, we headed inside to wait for the police to arrive.