Dark Summer

CHAPTER 4

HOME .

The sun was shining with hazy brilliance through the filmy white drapes at the window as Devon opened her eyes.

Something wasn't right, she realized drowsily.

Gracie wasn't on her usual place beside her bed.

That's right, after Gracie had come back from the paddock she'd eaten her evening meal, then settled down beside Ned in the kitchen. It was the first time she'd not spent the night in Devon's room since Devon had brought her home. She must be really concerned about the Lab.

Devon swung her legs to the floor and got out of bed. She'd shower, dress, and check Ned's stitches. Then she had to go to the clinic and ease back into the regular routine.

Sometimes routines were blessedly comforting. When she had been younger, she had been full of the love for adventure and change. That was before she had learned that adventures could be tragic, and changes weren't always happy. She was more cautious now.

That wasn't what Nick called it. He said she was turning into a stick-in-the-mud. He was always urging her to go away, set sail on a cruise, get away from the grind.

Get away from Lester, he really meant. He never mentioned Lester's name, but he'd been with her long enough to know what she was going through.

Maybe Nick would get his way, she thought sadly. She'd almost made up her mind that she'd have to leave this situation behind her.

Her cell phone rang. No ID.

Let it not be Lester.

"Devon Brady."

"Jude Marrok. I have to see you."

She stiffened. "The hell you do. Do you realize what you put me through getting that dog out of Santa Marina?"

"Yes, but I also knew you might be the only one who could."

"It would have served you right if I'd left him there."

"That wasn't going to happen." He repeated, "I have to see you. Can you meet me at your clinic in town?"

"No, I have work to do there."

"It's eight now. I'm in St. Louis waiting to change planes. I'll be there as soon as I can. Don't leave Ned. Take him to your office."

"Don't give me orders, Marrok."

"Do what I say. I'm doing what's best for you."

He hung up before she could answer.

Damn him. Marrok had been as curt and cool as he had been on the island. She still wasn't sure she should turn the Lab over to him. And she certainly wouldn't rush to be at her office to clear her calendar by the time he got there.

She took a leisurely shower, washed and dried her hair, and entered the kitchen a few minutes before nine. "Good morning, Janet. How did you sleep?"

"You know I always sleep good." Janet was turning the bacon. "No tossing and turning for me. You just have to set your mind to it."

Gracie got up from her place beside Ned and bounded toward Devon.

"It's about time you paid some attention to me," Devon murmured. She rubbed the greyhound's ears. "How's your friend?"

"That Lab's been begging me for bacon," Janet said. "Sitting there all pretty and expecting me to throw him a bite. He's teaching Gracie bad habits."

Devon stifled a smile. "And you didn't give in, of course."

"I threw him a few pieces. I wouldn't have done it, but protein is good to heal wounds. Right?"

"Absolutely." She knelt beside the Lab and examined the wound. She gave a low whistle. "But he may not need any help. This wound is doing incredibly well." Marrok had said that Ned healed well, but she hadn't expected the mending to have progressed to this degree. She patted Ned's head. "You're doing good, fella. Keep it up."

"If you're done with that coddling, you might sit down and eat your breakfast while it's hot, so I haven't wasted my time." Janet placed the eggs and bacon on the china plate. "Wash your hands first."

"I'm aware of the hygiene factor." Devon washed her hands at the sink. "Where's Nick?"

"He went down to feed Casper and the cats. Though those cats should be earning their keep being mousers in that barn. I saw a rat the last time I went down there."

"They were raised as house cats." She sat down at the table and started eating. "They'd be here with us if they weren't afraid of the dogs."

"They just like having their own kingdom in that barn, with all of us waiting on them." Janet poured her a cup of coffee. "You spoil them."

"Maybe." She was looking at Ned. He was bright-eyed and moving with only a little stiffness. "Your friend, Marrok, wants you back. What about it?"

Ned's tail thumped hard on the floor.

"Is that a yes? I'm not so sure. I certainly won't turn you over to him until I'm sure you're well on the way to healing."

"He looks good to me," Nick said from the kitchen door. "Better than good."

"I'll take him in and have him checked over just to make sure. Are you going with me?"

"No." He grimaced. "I have to get in the truck and see if I can find Casper."

She stared at him in bewilderment. "What?"

"I must have left the gate ajar when I went into the paddock to feed him last night. It was half-open when I went down this morning." He held up his hand. "Don't worry. No one is going to take Casper. Everyone knows he belongs to you. If I can't find him, I'll leave word with all the farmers in the neighborhood to let me know when they see him."

"I'm not worried about him being stolen. Casper's not too bright. He has a tendency to charge if he gets ner vous. Maybe I should go with you."

"He'll be fine. I think I can handle that donkey. He'll recognize me as the bringer of good vittles." Nick took the keys to the truck from the cookie jar on the counter. "I'll call you when I locate him. Otherwise, I'll see you at the clinic later."

"Okay." She was frowning as she watched him go down the steps. It was odd that Casper had gotten loose. Nick was always very careful about locks. But he was right; the donkey would probably be fine.

"I never left the gate open," Janet said flatly. "Not once."

"And Nick usually doesn't either." She finished her coffee and got to her feet. "Come on, Ned. Let's go to the clinic and check you out. We'll have my friend Dr. Dalks take a look at you, then I'll let you sit with the receptionist and charm all the patients. You'll like Terry. She's a pushover for Labs."

"DEVON BRADY LEFT THE HOUSE ten minutes ago," Fraser said when he picked up Marrok's call. "Nick Gilroy left before her. I think he's looking for the donkey."

"Did she take Ned with her?"

"Yes, he looked pretty spry."

"He should. It's been two days," Marrok said. "Are you still at the farm?"

"Yes." Fraser was silent. "Bridget says she thinks… she was nervous last night."

His hand tightened on the phone. "Any sign?"

"No, but I've been keeping my eyes peeled. I'm going to take another look around after I hang up. Bridget isn't often wrong."

No, she wasn't, Marrok thought. In her own way her instincts were as sharp and accurate as Ned's. Bridget would appreciate the comparison. She liked animals better than she liked most people.

Devon had said something like that the night he'd met her. She would probably get along very well with Bridget.

If he could keep her alive long enough to meet her.

"Don't take any chances, Fraser. Your job is to report, not engage. Call me when you finish checking the area."

"I will. I'll see them before they see me." He hung up.

Dammit, he had at least an hour before he reached Denver, and it would be another hour before he could make it to the small town of Bayside.

He didn't have Bridget's gift, but he had a bad feeling. He wanted to be off this plane and able to move.

IT WAS A BUSY MORNING AT the clinic, and Devon was drawn into the usual hubbub of sick animals and concerned own ers as soon as she walked in the door. She immediately turned Ned over to Hugh Dalks for his exam and didn't have a chance to pop her head into his examining room until the morning was almost over. "How's he doing?"

"You say that he was just operated on day before yesterday?" Hugh shook his head. "I'd never guess it. The tissue is almost completely healed. The stitches are almost unnecessary. I'm tempted to take them out."

"He must have good genes," she said lightly.

"Extraordinary genes." He was rubbing Ned's belly. "Did you know he has an ID microchip in his neck?"

"It doesn't surprise me. That's not so unusual. He's a valuable dog."

"Since you said his own er had disappeared, I thought you might want me to decode it and try to find the address. It wasn't easy. First, I tried the Vera chip RFD reader. Nothing. Then I tried the Avid remote. Still nothing."

"Weird, those are the two most frequently used microchip ID companies."

"Yeah, that's what I thought. Then I tried that old Sentar reader that Nick used years ago when they first started to microchip animal. It gave me the code number, but when I typed it into the computer the screen went blank, then it flipped as if it was going to another Web site."

"And?"

"Some kind of text came up, but it was all screwy."

"Screwy?"

"It's as if the chip was for another dog. Even the name is different. Not Ned. It's Paco."

"It must have been a tech error when they entered the information."

"I'll say. They've got everything wrong. Name. Date of birth, and the rest of the text isn't even in English."

"Really? Do you still have it up on the computer?"

"Sure, I thought you might want to see it." He went to the shelf and pressed the button. "There it is."

Devon frowned as she stared at the text message. It was long, and Hugh was right, it was completely bewildering. It had to be in another language, but she couldn't identify which one.

She had a memory of Marrok's words soothing Ned. She hadn't been able to decide what language he'd been speaking either. "Print it out for me before you blow it away, will you?"

"Okay, but I don't know why you'd want it. As I said, it's screwy." He lifted the Lab down from the table. "We'll have to make him a new one if you decide to keep him."

She nodded absently. "Yes, we'll do that." She looked down at Ned. "Well, are you ready to go out to the reception desk to meet and greet?"

Ned trotted toward the door.

"Smart," Hugh said. "If you don't want him, I might be persuaded to take him."

It seemed Ned was very much in demand. "You like him?"

"What's not to like? He's smart, and I have an idea he's a man's dog. Might to might."

"That's a chauvinist thing to say. Women aren't mighty?"

"Am I in trouble?"

"Maybe."

"Come on, Devon," Hugh coaxed. "Give him to me. You don't want a rickety old dog like that."

"Old? You're crazy."

Hugh chuckled. "Yep. But it's not me, it's that microchip." He headed for the door. "Completely nuts. The only part of the chip I could read was the line for the birth date at the beginning-5/13/82."

Her eyes widened. "What?"

"I know. Told you so." He left the examining room.

Devon shook her head. Hugh was right. The tech that had made up that chip must have been stoned. The life of a big dog like Ned was only in the teens. The chip would have put him close to thirty years old.

"Come on, Grandpa," she told Ned. "Your audience awaits. I saw a cute husky pup out there you can impress."

THERE WASN'T ANYONE in the woods.

Fraser breathed a sigh of relief. He wasn't great in the forest like Marrok, but he would surely have been able to catch a sound, a glimpse, if someone had been here. He'd done his duty and now he could go back to the farm house, where he felt more comfortable. Bridget was wrong, and he shouldn't have let her spook him.

Though she never meant to do that, and he'd a hell of a lot rather she spoke up than keep those creepy feelings to herself. She'd saved his neck a couple times in the last three years he'd been working for Marrok. It still wigged him out, but he accepted it better now than-

A tearing pain in his shoulder.

A bullet. My God, he'd barely heard it. A silencer…

Run.

He could see the two men bursting through the bushes ahead of him.

Turn around and run.

They mustn't catch him.

Marrok had said that was the worse thing that could happen to him.

Another slicing pain in his back.

Keep running.

Find a place to hide.

Or get to the farmyard where someone would see him.

They were behind him, running fast.

And he was slowing, stumbling…

Faster…

The blood was flowing, spurting…

Don't let them-

"SHE'S NOT AT THE FARM," Rachoff said, when Caswell answered. "She got into a van with the dog just as we got here. You said to try to be discreet, so I had a man follow her and report back to me. She went to a veterinary clinic in one of those strip shopping centers and hasn't come out. Shall we wait here until she comes back?"

Caswell thought about it. "It would probably be safer than taking a chance in a public place."

"It would be my choice." He hesitated. "But we had to put down someone who was snooping around the woods. One of Marrok's people?"

"Any ID?"

"Nothing connected with Marrok."

But if Marrok had men already at the farm to protect the Brady woman, then they'd have to move faster than anticipated.

"Forget about being safe. Go get her."

FRASER WASN'T ANSWERING his phone.

Not good. Marrok had tried to reach him twice on the plane when he hadn't checked back in with him. He'd called a third time once he'd reached the ground.

Marrok strode out of the airport and jumped into the rental car.

He got the call from Bridget when he was pulling out of the parking lot.

"Something's wrong." Bridget's voice was shaking. "Something bad."

"Take it easy. Do you know what it is?"

"Something's… gone."

Shit.

"Look, hold on, Bridget. I'll take care of it."

"Too late. It's already started. Fraser…"

"We don't know that yet. And if it is, we have to keep it from getting worse. I'm on my way to Devon Brady's office right now. I'm pulling her out."

"And I'm going to that farm to find Fraser."

"No," he said sharply. He didn't want Bridget blundering into Danner's hands if he'd already made his move.

"Don't tell me no," she said fiercely. "I worked with Fraser for three years. He's been as close to a friend as I've had here. I owe it to him."

"You don't owe it to him to get yourself killed."

"I'm going."

"Okay." Try to get something positive out of this since he couldn't convince her. "But take a team and try to get the housekeeper and Nicholas Gilroy out of there before you go looking for Fraser. Will you do that for me?"

Silence. "Yes."

She'd agreed too easily, Marrok thought. Because in her heart, she believed it was too late for Fraser. "Good. Keep in touch."

"Marrok."

"Yes."

"Hurry. Devon Brady's office, the clinic. It's not safe there either." She hung up the phone.

Marrok muttered a curse as he punched in the number Walt had given him for Nick Gilroy.

"Gilroy, you've never met me. My name is Jude Marrok."

"No, but I've heard about you. Devon is very irritated with the way you-"

"Where are you? Have you gone back to the farm yet?"

"How did you know that I-"

"Are you at the farm?"

"No, I'm filling up my gas tank at the BP station."

"Good. Stay there."

"Can't do it. I have to find that damn don-"

"You'll not find the donkey. Stay where you are. Don't go back to the farm. Devon is going to meet you. She'll call you when she's on her way." He hung up.

He doubted if Gilroy would obey him, but he'd probably call Devon, and that might delay his going back to the farm. Bridget would move fast, but he needed all the time he could muster.

He phoned Devon Brady. "Get my dog out of that office. Close up and send everyone home."

"I beg your pardon." Devon's voice was icy.

"Lock the doors. I'll be there in five or ten minutes, but you can't take a chance I'll be in time. Get out of there."

"I've no intention of doing anything you order me to do. I have appointments that-"

"Then get Ned out of there. He's the draw that will make them come after you."

"Who are you talking about? Who's coming-"

"Stop asking questions and get my dog away from there. I don't want him shot again." His voice lowered, and every word came out charged with intensity. "And I don't want anyone else shot either. I'm not crazy, and I'm not joking."

"Shot?"

"That's what's going to happen. I hoped we'd have more time, but I think they're on their way. They have their orders, and they won't care who they have to kill to get what they want."

"Dammit, who's supposed to be on the way? The man who shot Ned?"

"No, I took him out of the equation. Look, you don't have time to ask me questions. Lock the doors. Where's your car?"

She hesitated. "It's parked in the back parking lot behind the clinic."

"What kind of car?"

"Toyota SUV."

"Good. Put Ned in the back and tell him to play dead. I've seen that's one trick he knows to perfection. Cover him up with a blanket. Then get the hell away from the office."

"This is nuts." She was silent a moment. "You mean it."

"I mean it. Get moving." He hung up the phone. He'd done all he could do. It was up to Devon now. He had only one more call to make.

CRAZY. DEVON SLOWLY PRESSED the disconnect. She should ignore the call and go on with her day.

But Marrok's voice had been dead serious.

And she believed he thought he was telling the truth even if it was completely bizarre.

Get moving.

Whatever was going to happen, he thought there was urgency.

Ignore it?

She got to her feet and moved toward the reception room. She didn't ignore warnings if she thought they held even a grain of truth. She had seen too many tragedies, too many villagers caught in mudslides and rushing floodwater and other disasters when they'd ignored warnings that might have saved them.

The reception room was empty of clients, and Terry was sitting cross-legged on the floor, patting Ned's belly. Red-haired, pretty, and voluptuous, she always reminded Devon of a model or showgirl. But her receptionist was smart as a whip and amazingly efficient. Terry glanced up with a guilty grin. "Okay, so this isn't my job. I was just massaging him. I thought it might help."

"Yeah, sure." Evidently Terry was clearly bewitched by Ned. "Do we have any more appointments today?"

"There's one at four." Terry got to her feet. "But that's for Dr. Dalks."

"I think we're going to call it a day." She clipped a leash to Ned's collar. "Call the client and postpone. Then lock up and go home, Terry."

"Really?" Terry smiled eagerly as she picked up the phone and started to look up the number. "Right away. You're not going to get an argument from me. I've got a hot date tonight, and I need to get a pedicure."

"I doubt if he'll be looking at your toes, Terry."

"You can never tell. Maybe he has a foot fetish."

Devon started for the back of the clinic and stopped. What the hell. She turned and locked the front door herself. "Go out the back door. We don't want any drop-ins delaying you."

"Good idea," Terry said absently as she started to dial the phone.

Devon stopped at the examining room where Hugh Dalks was filling out reports on the way to the back door. "Go home, Hugh. I'm declaring an official holiday."

"What?"

"You heard me." She opened the back door. "It's my first day back, and we're breaking early."

"Are you sure you're feeling okay? That doesn't sound like the workaholic I know and love."

"I'm fine. Get out of here. I want this place cleared in five minutes." She closed the door, and her gaze darted around the back parking lot. Nothing suspicious. God, she was turning paranoid. This was only a precaution, dammit. She unlocked the SUV, and Ned jumped into the back.

"Lie down." Okay, go for broke. She might as well go the whole nine yards. "Play dead, Ned."

Ned rolled over and closed his eyes.

He knows that trick to perfection.

Why had Marrok felt he needed to know that particular trick? She tossed the plush football blanket she kept for transporting sick animals over him. "This is crazy. I hope your friend Marrok isn't leading me down a blind alley." She got into the SUV and backed out of the parking space. "Because I don't like him interfering with my-"

Her driver's side window shattered, and a bullet plowed into the leather of the passenger seat!

What…

A man was running out the back door of the clinic toward her car. "Stop, bitch." He lifted the gun in his hand. "Gotcha."

A hot streaking pain seared the side of her neck.

Shot, she realized incredulously. She'd been shot.

She instinctively pressed the accelerator, but the man had reached her car and was running beside it, pressing the muzzle against the glass.

She was going to die.

There was no way he could miss from this distance. His face was only inches from the glass. Hard face. Ugly face.

Yet suddenly there was no face. His skull was half-blown away, and he dropped to the ground.

"Let me in." Marrok was standing at the passenger door. His tone was so demanding, she automatically pressed the button.

He jumped in the SUV. "Now get the hell out of here."

She was staring dazedly at the man crumpled on the ground. "You killed him."

"Damn straight. I blew the bastard's head off. Would you rather I let him do that to you? He probably wasn't alone. Get this car moving!"

She stomped on the accelerator, and the car lurched forward. She didn't look back until she was almost out of the shopping center at the exit to the street.

This couldn't have happened. The sun was shining brightly, and she saw a mother and her two kids going into the ice-cream shop across the street. Everything was normal and as it should be.

Except someone had just tried to kill her and had died horribly in the attempt.

And there was another man running out the back door of the clinic and up the hill toward the street.

A navy blue SUV was parked directly in front of the clinic and the front door of the clinic was wide-open. She had locked that door herself. That door must have been forced only a few minutes after she had left.

Fear iced through her.

Hugh and Terry!

She stomped on the brakes. "No, I have to go back. Hugh and Terry are-"

"I called 911 after I talked to you. They should be here any minute. But it could be too late for you if don't leave now. You're the one they're looking for. Get out of here while we have the chance."

"What is-"

"Move!"

She pressed the accelerator, and the SUV took off. She heard the sirens in the distance. Relief poured through her. "You did call the police."

"I told you I did. I don't lie… unless it's necessary."

"How comforting."

"Your neck's bleeding."

She'd almost forgotten the wound. She touched it. "I think it's okay." She looked back. They were a block away, and the clinic was no longer in view. "I let you panic me. I have to go back and see if I can-"

"Are you nuts?" he asked harshly. "You should have been panicked. You almost bought it back there." He looked in the rear of the SUV. "Ned's in the back?"

"Yes." She was starting to think again. "You came out of nowhere. I didn't even see you until you-"

"I came in a Saturn rental car that's still in the middle of the lot. I jumped out of it when I saw what needed to be done."

Murder. He meant murder needed to be done. He'd taken a life. "You killed him."

"Of course I did," he said impatiently.

So casual. What was this all about? What was she getting herself into by letting him control this terrible situation?" She suddenly pulled over to the side of the street. "I'm going back to the office. Those men must have been scared off by the police sirens by now. I have to talk to the police and explain what-"

"No," Marrok said flatly. "You're off the radar right now. I don't want them to get a fix on you again."

"Once more the mysterious 'they.' " She moistened her lips. "You only killed that man to save my life. You should come back with me and clear yourself."

"No way."

She unlocked the doors. "Then get out. Take your dog. I'm going back."

He shook his head. "I can't let you do that."

She looked at him in disbelief. "You don't have anything to say about it. I'm going to go back and make sure Hugh and Terry are-" She inhaled sharply as she saw the flicker of emotion on his face. "You don't think-You think those men killed them."

"I don't think they had a chance once Danner's men got into the office. They were probably dead within seconds."

"That's insane." But it was insane for someone to try to kill her, too. So how could she say that? "They're my friends," she said shakily as she started to pull out from the curb. "I can't go anywhere when there's a chance I can help-"

She felt a prick of pain on her upper arm.

"Don't be frightened," Marrok said curtly. "I can't let you run back there. It's only a shot. It will put you out for a little while until I can work a way out of this mess."

A shot.

Dimness…

Drowsiness…

Nothing…