laughed and waved back. “He’s a fierce little bugger.”
“You have no idea.”
Taz trembled, not with fear but with the desire to chase away the Aussie. At six pounds after a full meal, Taz was the self-appointed pack leader and the only dog Cady had ever owned who refused to be trained. Luckily, he was small and fragile, with teeth the size of Tic Tacs and legs as skinny as pencils. But he was convinced he was a mastiff.
Ten minutes later, she returned her dogs to the house and gated them in the kitchen and family room. Taz’s house training was not reliable, and the pit bulls were both young. They chewed on everything. Fed and walked, the dogs stretched out for a nap, and Cady headed to her brother’s house to feed the rescues. Alone in the car, she fought the well of sadness in her chest.
Damn Greg.
Seeing him had brought back too many memories. Since then, she’d slept poorly and lost her appetite. She rubbed a tired eye.
Keep busy.
She left her neighborhood. A few miles later, she turned onto the rural highway that led toward her brother’s place. She glanced in her rearview mirror. A set of headlights turned onto the road behind her. She rarely saw much traffic this early in the morning. She stopped at an intersection. The car behind her fell back. She looked both ways and turned right. A minute later, headlights shone in her rearview mirror again. She made another turn. The car didn’t get any closer, but those headlights stayed in her wake.
The hairs on the back of her neck lifted.
Was someone following her?
She pictured Greg’s angry face at the pet supply store. Had he decided to torment her again? It was exactly what he’d done the last time he wanted to punish her. Part of her wanted to stop the car and confront him.
Don’t be stupid.
She was well trained in martial arts, but what if Greg had a weapon? As she taught in her classes, physical self-defense was a last resort and not a substitute for common sense.
She pressed her gas pedal to the floor. Her van leaped forward, and the car fell back again. Ten minutes later, she turned into Matt’s driveway and parked next to her brother’s truck. She twisted in her seat and watched the road through the rear window. The vehicle drove past without slowing. She couldn’t read the license plate, and it was too dark to see the make and model, but it appeared to be a dark-colored SUV, like the one Greg had been driving.
The entrance to the interstate was farther up the highway. Had it been a coincidence that the car had been behind her the whole way here?
Or had it been Greg?
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Matt’s phone rang as he was feeding his dogs their breakfast. It was barely seven o’clock. He read Bree’s name on the screen and sighed as he answered the call. “Shouldn’t you still be asleep?”
“Probably.” She sounded tired. “What time are we interviewing Mrs. Beckett?”
“Eleven o’clock.” He gave up. Bree was going to do whatever she wanted. There was no stopping her.
“OK. I already spoke with Todd. The warrants are in. I want you to go to the Beckett residence with him and the forensic techs this morning.”
Wait. Was she delegating? Normally she liked to run point on key elements of an investigation.
“I’d planned on it,” he said.
“Todd’s investigative skills have come a long way in the last few months, but I’d still like you on board.”
But Matt had assumed Bree would want to come along, even if she had to drag her sorry, injured self. “How did he get the warrants so fast?”
“He submitted everything electronically last night, and the judge came in early this morning. I’ll meet you at the station before eleven.”
“OK,” Matt said. “What are you going to do this morning?”
“Nothing.” She sighed.
“Wow.”
“I know,” she said in a wry tone. “I promised Kayla I’d rest this morning. I’m only allowed to go into the office, and I have to sit down the whole time I’m there.”
Matt held back a laugh. The only person who could control Bree was eight years old.
“I’m glad,” he said when he could trust his voice. “Do you need a ride?”
“Adam will drop me off at the station. I’ll see you at eleven. Would you bring my vehicle to the station?” She had left it at his house the night before when they’d decided to use his Suburban for the stakeout at Paul’s.