Ledge got on his phone and called Don. “The other night when Rusty ambushed me in the bar, there was a guy playing pool with some buddies. I didn’t even turn around to look when Rusty hassled him about dogfighting. Rusty called him by name. Dawkins?”
Arden, in the passenger seat, heard Don say, “Hawkins. Dwayne Hawkins.”
“Do you know where he lives? Or where he holds the fights? Rusty mentioned an old barn.”
“You’re not taking to that sport, I hope.”
“Come on.”
“Then why are you asking about it?”
“A friend of mine had a run-in with a vicious stray. He thought it might belong to this Hawkimans character.”
Don said, “I’ll ask around and get back to you.”
“My friend needs to know now.”
“What’s the rush?”
“The dog may still be loose in his neighborhood. There’re kids around.”
“Then he should call animal control.”
“I need that info, Don. Please?” He clicked off and propped the phone in the cup holder.
“You told a fib,” she said.
“I edited the truth.”
“A skill you’ve perfected.”
He didn’t respond to that.
She noticed that they’d driven past the same water tower twice. “We’re driving in circles, aren’t we?”
“For the time being, yeah.”
“Why?”
“To see if somebody is tailing us.”
“Is someone?”
“Not that I can tell now, but somebody had to have told Hawkins where we could be found. Rusty’s got every deputy in the department in his back pocket. He had them on the lookout. Your car was spotted at Crystal’s. Eventually, you would have come back for it.”
“I could have been inside the house.”
“To get to your car, you’d have had to go outside.”
“I was the target?”
“Good. You’re finally beginning to catch on.” He turned into the parking lot of a closed business and brought the truck to a stop. “We’ll wait here for Don to call back. I’m burning up gas, and I don’t know how far we’ll have to drive.”
He turned off the engine and sat back in his seat, facing forward, staring at the brick wall in front of the truck. She did the same. Neither said anything.
Now that she’d had time to recover her breath and wits from the dog attack, her thoughts reverted to the fight they’d had just before it. The topic lay between them like a grenade whose pin had been pulled. No sooner had she wondered which of them would pick it up than he spoke in a grumble.
“That Jacob was the daddy?”
She glanced at him, then looked forward again. “Jacob Greene with an e at the end.”
“Where’d you two meet?”
“I worked at Neiman’s as a personal shopper. Jacob became a client. A good one. He spent a lot of money with me. I later became his patient.”
“Patient? He’s a doctor?”
“Yes, but by the time I started seeing him professionally, we’d gone beyond the traditional doctor-patient relationship.”
“Obviously way beyond. How come you’re not together now?”
“Well, for one thing, he’s married.”
“Ah. That’s the crimp. Big one. The wife found out about his pregnant mistress and—”
“Will you shut up?” She turned to him then. “Jacob is a specialist in AI. Artificial insemination. He impregnated me, yes. Using sperm from an anonymous donor.”
He held her gaze for several seconds, then bowed his head and rubbed his thumb across his eyebrow. “I feel like an ass.”
“I can’t imagine why.” She didn’t try to disguise her sarcasm.
He looked at her querulously. “Well, when I asked about the father, why didn’t you just tell me?”
“I didn’t even tell my sister. It wasn’t any of her business, and it certainly wasn’t any of yours.”
“Right. So you’ve said.”
Before they could take it further, his phone vibrated, rattling the loose change in the cup holder. He kept his eyes on her as he reached for it and answered. She heard Don say, “Okay. I’ve got the directions to his place.”
“Gimme.”
“I’d rather not.”
“Then I’m sorry to have bothered you. I’ll get the info from somebody else.”
“This guy’s no choirboy, Ledge.”
“Figured that.”
“You’re looking for trouble.”
“No, he was, and now he’s got it.”
Don hesitated, then muttered, “Hell.”
The place looked almost too derelict to be real, more like a stage or movie set crowded with props to make it appear as squalid as possible. Floodlights mounted on metal poles formed a perimeter and shone down on the property, contributing to the movie set feel.
The house was as ramshackle as the various outbuildings, one of which was missing half its roof. The disemboweled, rusted-out vehicles scattered about were a cliché. Two mismatched upholstered chairs squatted on the porch under the overhang. Arden didn’t even want to think about the vermin that