Greyson (The K9 Files) - Dale Mayer Page 0,9
mother considered them dirty disease-infested critters—she didn’t know how the dog’s behavior could be explained in this instance.
She stepped forward and picked up Danny, hugging him again, feeling that need to connect with her son, until he once again squirmed and cried out. She realized she was holding him too tight. With a shaky smile, she put him back down again. “Mommy loves you.”
He beamed and said, “Bubboo too.”
She chuckled. “Why don’t we go inside and play?”
He shook his head. “Outside.”
“Of course you want to play outside,” she spoke quietly to herself. “I mean, we live in Hawaii.” The weather was gorgeous here, and her son always wanted to be outside. It just didn’t make her feel very good to know that something or someone out there was watching them. If she knew it was the dog for sure, she could at least put it down to the animal. But it didn’t necessarily have that same feel. It was as if she were being watched all the time. It was unnerving enough but downright terrifying to think that her ex-husband was behind it.
Finally unable to contain herself, she snatched Danny up and walked inside. Locking the double French doors, she headed to the kitchen against the wiggly protests from her son. Quickly she sat him in his high chair and said, “Let’s make cookies.”
Chapter 2
Several days later Jessica had that same horrible feeling again. She was doing dishes in the kitchen, while her son was still eating his breakfast. She looked outside and thought she saw an animal darting between the trees that bordered her property. But after staring at the area for a long while, she saw nothing. Upset and frustrated, she knew if she could at least get a proper look at it, she’d know if it was the same animal.
As she took yet another look outside, she swore to God she saw a face in the trees. Her heart slammed against her chest, and she froze, then sucked her breath back down her throat. For a moment there, she thought it was George. She closed her eyes and collapsed against the counter, wishing to God she’d never had that fender bender or been threatened by George’s thug.
George hadn’t done anything directly to her or her son. He hadn’t called, hadn’t emailed. He had his lawyer do his dirty work, with the initial filing for separation and divorce, and the most recent notice that George wanted Danny. So what was she supposed to do with this now?
Behind her, Danny called out, “Mommy?”
She bolstered up a bright smile, then turned and squatted beside him. “I’m fine, sweetie. Mommy is just tired.”
He beamed. “Mommy needs nap.”
“Wouldn’t that be nice,” she said, chuckling. “We’re going shopping instead.”
“Yay!”
She knew he didn’t understand the word, but that was okay. He would soon enough. It was all good.
She quickly cleaned off his little tray, washed his hands and face, let him down out of the high chair, and finished cleaning up the kitchen. She hated the fact that every time she came close to a window, she glanced outside to look—only to see nothing there. Her heart calmed down a little bit, but it was just not enough. She couldn’t resist the opportunity to get away for a while. So she quickly dressed him in his sneakers, grabbed his stroller, and, with her purse and keys in hand, she locked up the house and went out the front door. She could drive, but right now she wanted the exercise that would be gained if they just went for a walk. She only needed to pick up a couple things, so it didn’t really matter.
As she headed down the road and around the corner, a vehicle came ripping up behind her. Instinctively she jumped off to the side, pulling Danny’s stroller with her. Only the truck took a left turn away from her. She stood here, her hand against her chest, taking long and slow breaths. She didn’t know what the hell was going on, but she was a wreck. She had to get a grip before somebody decided she was an unfit mother.
And, of course, that went right back to George. Maybe he was doing this on purpose, just to make her seem neurotic and paranoid. She wouldn’t put it past him. He was one of those people who liked to gaslight others into thinking what they thought they saw—and what he said and did—wasn’t actually what happened. Many a time he’d done that