I Kissed a Dog - By Carol van Atta Page 0,61

I snatched the burgundy material from his mouth. It was a rougher fabric than I’d expected, and touching it made me cringe. Disturbing images of the stooped, naked creature would haunt me for a long time.

When I looked up, Zane was already nudging the backdoor open with his nose. Not wanting to be left alone for even a second, I bounded up the stairs.

Just inside, he bristled. I waited behind him, following as he made his way across the kitchen. Glancing over my shoulder, I expected to see the creature reaching for what was left of his tattered robe. All I observed was a semi-sunny sky and grass bending in the breeze. Taking a deep breath through my nose and then exhaling, I continued behind Zane as he padded further into the house.

Accepting we were alone, Zane seemed to relax and darted around the room, his nose to the carpet.

I felt drawn to the master bedroom where the murder had taken place. Not sure what I’d find, I started down the hall trying to imagine what the Smart boy had experienced. He’d most likely entered his home expecting to find his father waiting with dinner on the table, eager to hear about the game.

The newspaper had described Joshua Smart as an outgoing boy who excelled at baseball. According to the press, Jordon Smart had died at approximately 4:30 PM. Joshua’s game finished up around 7:30 PM.

Joshua, expecting a warm welcome from his father, had been met with excruciating silence. There would have been a horrific odor. The metallic smell of blood combined with the pungent stench of death — it was no wonder the boy wasn’t talking.

My thoughts reverted to the gruesome scene Josh’s puppy had imprinted on my mind, and my soul. Queasy, I spun around prepared to escape.

How would I help Joshua Smart if I fled now?

Drawing a ragged breath, I prepared myself to enter the bedroom. Zane brushed against my leg and whimpered. Grateful for his support, even in wolf form, I rested my hand on his thick neck and let him lead the way.

It was evident that a crime scene clean up service had already performed their special brand of magic. The blood and gore had been removed, leaving the former murder scene spotless. An offensive odor remained, though mild, it still triggered my gag reflex.

Zane with his heightened senses prowled through the room.

No matter how long I live, I’ll never get used to the smell of death. I flashed to age thirteen. Our cat was locked in the car on a hundred-degree day. The car had to be sold. Nothing could rid it of the stench — or memories.

No doubt, Zane agreed. The cleaning people did well, but that lingering odor ... I’m sorry, maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.

Appreciative of his support, I patted his head. We’re here, so let’s look around.

Zane kept his muzzle glued to the carpet as he rounded the room. When he reached the corner, by the bed’s left side, he paused. Can you take a closer look at this plant?

The fake tree in the corner was one of several. Mr. Smart must’ve liked a green touch without watering. They were dust-free and shiny-green courtesy of whatever cleaning products the crew had used.

For one brief terrible moment, before pawing through the branches and leaves, I imagined the tree painted with blood. Blinking away the picture, I sifted through the fake moss.

Anything? Zane questioned.

Not that I can see. What did you smell? I didn’t know where else to look.

Something that shouldn’t be here, but I don’t recognize it.

I stared at the tree wishing it would speak. My eyes glided from top to bottom. Bottom! Ignoring Zane’s questioning look, I stood up and tugged the tree from its wicker container, yanking the moss out with it. I peered into the basket.

At first glance; nothing; but with closer examination I spotted a tarnished coin, five times the size of a quarter. It was covered with exotic symbols.

Gleeful, I shouted: “Ah ha!” Why not use a microphone? My wolfy husband shook his massive head.

Sorry. I didn’t expect to find anything.

I see; you doubted my tracking abilities?

Debating his tracking abilities, where a man had been shredded to pieces, wasn’t practical. Can we clean up and get out of here?

Zane turned and trotted toward the door leaving me to clean up the mess.

What a dog.

Chapter 2213

Driving Zane’s Corvette gave me a feeling of power. It roared down 101 like a beast on wheels, devouring the

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