High in Trial - By Donna Ball Page 0,49
Bryte would be mine. Like I said, I didn’t know what kind of people she was mixed up with. She broke down and told me everything yesterday afternoon, and I was furious, of course. I just wanted to take Bryte and get out of there, but I’d never seen her so scared. After she almost lost Bryte, after you caught her, she begged me to help her, to hang on for just a little while longer. She promised she had a plan, and it would all be over in a matter of days if I’d just cooperate. We’d been together for a long time. I didn’t know what else to do. I said I’d go through with the rest of the trial and we’d figure something out. Guess somebody else figured something out first.”
I felt as though I was on a speeding train, with pieces of the puzzle flashing past like scraps of scenery through a window. “But,” I managed, “you left the dogs with her. How could you do that?”
“The dogs are assets,” Miles assured me. “They wouldn’t hurt the dogs.”
It seemed to me that Neil had been an asset, too, but that hadn’t protected him. I didn’t know what to think, much less say. It all sounded like something out of a B-grade movie, and none of it made sense. None of it. Gangsters, loan sharks, thugs breaking people’s kneecaps. Was he hallucinating? Was I? Was it all some kind of very bizarre and not-at-all funny joke?
There was absolutely no sign of mirth on Neil’s slightly gray face, and when I glanced at Miles, all I saw in his eyes was dark concern. One thing was certain. If Neil had been in the emergency room all night, he could have had nothing to do with what happened to Marcie. And if any part of what he said was true, the police were by now pursuing a very different tack indeed. While I was sure they would be around to talk to Neil again sometime today, they clearly hadn’t been here since taking the report on Marcie’s assault. Neil didn’t even know his former girlfriend was now lying on a slab in the morgue in what was very likely the same hospital he’d just left.
I took a breath and said, “Listen, Neil, the reason we came here was to tell you that… well, Marcie was in an accident last night.”
His eyes opened and he stared at me blearily. Comprehension was vague in his eyes, if present at all. “Accident? Is she okay?”
Oh, I hated this. I shouldn’t have to do this. I didn’t want to do this. And for once I felt nothing but profound gratitude that a man was there to step in for me and take over.
“She’s dead,” Miles said gently. “I’m sorry.”
Neil swallowed hard, staring at him. “I don’t understand.”
I really, really didn’t see the point in going over the details. I could hardly stand to think about them, and it wasn’t my place. I said, “The police are investigating. I’m sure they’ll send somebody to talk to you.”
“Dead?” he repeated. His hand was shaking as he wiped it over his face, as though trying to clear the fog that clouded his comprehension. “How can she be dead?”
I said, “I’m really so sorry. So sorry you have to hear it like this.” Miles placed his hand briefly upon the small of my back in a bracing gesture. I took a breath and plunged on. “What we’re trying to find out,” I said, “is who is responsible for taking care of the dogs. Since you can’t,” I added quickly. “Aggie and Ginny from the agility club said they’d drive them back home and keep them until… until someone can come get them, but since you’re the co-owner, they need to know if you have another agreement.”
He stared at me as though I had spoken Greek. “Marcie’s dead?”
I dug into my jeans’ pocket, pulled out a couple of pick-up bags, a breath mint, the crumpled remnants of a dog treat, and a wrinkled business card. I looked around until I found a pen, consulted my phone for Aggie’s number, and wrote the information on the back of my card. I handed the business card to Neil. “Aggie and Ginny from the agility club,” I repeated. “You know them, right?”
He nodded.
“They’re going to take care of Bryte and Flame until you feel better.”
He stared at the card. “It doesn’t make any sense.”
I glanced up at Miles, and he simply