Double Dog Dare (32 page)

“Looking good,” he said. “Though the dose she got was a lot more than yours, so she’s still not out of the woods.”

I grimaced, then made myself grin. “Okay. I’m through. Tell me if I got anything wrong.”

“Well, like I said, I can’t tell you even if you got it right, but looking at it all hypothetically—that’s what you lawyers like to say—I’d say you’ve come up with a nice, tidy tale for several prosecutors in Glendale for Earl’s murder, L.A. County for Jeff’s abduction and attack, and good old L.A. City for Beryl’s attempted murder.”

“Amazing,” I said. “And complicated. Any chance Clark will get out of this?”

“Not if I have anything to say about it,” Ned responded grimly. “But one never knows in our so-called justice system. ”

Which made me sink back into my pillows.

“Looks like you’ve exhausted yourself with your hypothetical, ” he surmised. “But thanks for your confirmation of where I figured we were going with all this. I’m sure we’ll see more of each other as the official investigation continues.”

“Good deal, Ned,” I said. “And thanks—only next time I call for help, could you please answer your damned phone?”

“For you, Ballantyne, any time.”

Which brought a bundle of tears to my eyes as he exited the hospital room. Damn, but that drug must have done something to my emotions.

But it still felt kinda good that the detective who’d once hated my guts had actually acted almost like a friend.

RACHEL CAME TO see me often in the next couple of days of my hospital recuperation. She was of course caring for Lexie.

“I wish you could bring her here,” I grumped one afternoon.

“They’re letting you out of here tomorrow,” Rachel responded. She’d jumped up to the plate and scored well with taking over my animal care chores during my inability.

Her dad, Russ, came with her once or twice. Others also visited me in the hospital—Althea and Buzz from Jeff’s office. And Tracy Owens from PSCSC, who, like Ned, assured me that Melville was fine and enjoying his new home.

Even Jeff and Tom came again despite my previous rudeness in dropping off to sleep from boredom before in their combined presence. At least they arrived one at a time. Both acted caring and concerned. And I acted pleased to see them, but absolutely not bowled over by the appearance of either of them at my side.

Even so, I got teary-eyed when Jeff apologized for his suspicions. Sitting on the side of my hospital bed, he said, “You were absolutely right, Kendra. A lot of what I was saying was the result of a bad reaction to that drug. Ketamine can cause all kinds of awful results, like amnesia, flashbacks, and even delirium and paranoia.” Not news to me, even if it was to him. I’d discovered all that from my own detailed research. “As far as I know now, no one was listening in on the phone conversations you and I had. And like you instructed me, I’m seeing a doctor now. Amanda recommended him, and—”

“Amanda? Your ex-wife?” I felt my eyes open wide in astonishment that was far from happy.

“She got in touch when she heard what happened on the news. Said she’d spoken with you to express how concerned she was. But don’t worry. I thanked her and told her that things between her and me haven’t changed.” He leaned over and gave me a soft kiss. “I still want you in my life.”

Really? Well, why wouldn’t he? I’d helped to unravel the ugly situation in which he and his surrogate mom Lois had found themselves.

But he had the temerity to toss Amanda’s name at me. Yet he hadn’t trusted me partly because he’d seen me in entirely innocent situations with Tom.

Still, maybe he could explain enough to extract himself from the stinky dilemma of a doghouse that he’d crawled into in my mind.

“I still don’t understand why you didn’t tell me you were back in L.A. That was before you were drugged.”

“I explained it was because I promised Lois confidentiality. ” His sweetness had suddenly segued to defensive-ness once more.

“Right,” I said. “And Lois herself—how come you never mentioned her?”

“I thought I had.” At my irritated expression he said, “Well, I wasn’t going to introduce you to family till we were in some kind of committed relationship. I’d thought about getting you two together when you moved in with me.”

I didn’t consider that much of an explanation. But I had one more question. “Did you ever figure out who Earl was referring to when you were supposedly unconscious in the back of the Escalade and he talked to Clark on his cell phone and said he’d gotten to someone at your office—or your girlfriend?”

“It was a stretch, but apparently Clark had someone from one of his companies talk to Buzz Dulear about a security system for one of their facilities, and got him to quiz Buzz about me. And I still don’t understand the reference to you, but maybe they were just acknowledging between them that I had someone who might worry about me when I disappeared.”

It all sounded a stretch to me, too. But I was now exhausted. I pretended to fall back asleep a short time later.

Only to be awakened by a call from Tom.

Well, hell. I was still too irritated with them both to choose to see either one socially once I was feeling better. Even so, I let Tom relate what he professed to have called about. “I talked with Mason and Debby Payne, Kendra, and some of the others at The Clone Arranger. I can’t speak to whether the allegations against them, and how they conducted their cloning, are true, but they all swore they didn’t touch Lois Terrone’s dog Flisa except in the most gentle way. They didn’t even attempt to take any DNA samples from her.”

Yeah, I’d figured, since she wasn’t a purebred.

“Anyway,” Tom continued, “I’d examined her as I did other animals brought in for cloning. Lois had told me about some of her existing symptoms, and I saw those but nothing more. My belief is that she died of natural causes.”

Much as I hated to say so for Lois’s sad sake, that had become my belief, and now I had a veterinary opinion to back me up. Too bad no one had convinced her of that concept before. It could have saved Earl’s life, Jeff’s Escalade and sanity, and The Clone Arranger’s unearned, formerly nonfraudulent reputation.

I thanked Tom for his opinion, then murmured a noncommittal non sequitur when he said he’d see me soon.

Eventually, it was time for me to leave the hospital. That was when Avvie Milton, an associate at my former law firm and owner of Pansy the pig, called me, crying. “Kendra, do you know what that louse Bill Sergement has done?” That same guy I’d called Drill Sergeant, who’d seduced me when I was in Avvie’s position years ago at my old law firm.

“What’s that?” I asked, although I suspected.

“He’s called things off between us altogether. He’s totally back with his wife, and they’re having a baby.”

Oops. It wasn’t as if Bill had left his poor wife in the first place, but maybe this was a harbinger of a happy home life for him now. Or not. Who knew?

In any event, I told Avvie to meet me later at my home. Rachel brought me there, and Tracy Owens was present, too. We were joined by Maribelle Openheim, owner of Meph, the terrier mix who’d helped me start my clone investigation.

“Hey, Kendra,” Tracy said as we five females sat in my small living room, a sweet and nuzzly Lexie happily ensconced on my lap. “Feel like a girls’ night out to celebrate your homecoming?” I knew full well what had happened with the last man she’d let into her life, and she was well rid of him.

Same went for thirty-something Avvie, after her sordid situation with Bill Sergement. And for middle-aged Maribelle, who’d had the good sense to drop Judge Baird Roehmann, he of the roamin’ hands, when they’d dated for a while after I’d introduced them. She had told me recently that she’d taken up with a new guy but now wasn’t sure that one would stick, either.

“Great idea!” I said, sensing empathy emanating from this flock of caring females. “That damned drug’s out of my system now.” Or at least I hoped so, remembering Jeff’s lingering effects. “So let’s go somewhere I can get a glass of wine.”

Just one, and I’d be careful. I felt great—well, I
would
feel great, once I got over the hypocrite who was Jeff. Sure, being drugged had been a bummer. But I couldn’t buy into it as sufficient excuse to blame everything on me, including the case of the elusive thumb drive. Or to keep significant secrets from me, like when he happened to revisit my vicinity.

So now, I was without even a prospect of a date with Tom, Jeff, or any old Harry who might be out there.

Who needed them? Not me.

Okay, so my old refrain was again reverberating in my mind: I had the world’s worst taste in men.

So what? Although there were occasionally fish in the households in which I pet-sat for larger beloved animals, none had a bicycle awaiting them within their waterlogged tanks.

What was that supposed to mean? Well, I had just recalled a quote from a woman much wiser than I: “A woman without a man is like a fish without a bicycle.”

Who needed men?

I had no hint of what might transpire in the future between me and members of the incredibly unpredictable male gender. But for now, who cared?

Most likely, I’d swear off men forever.

But, hey, I reminded myself. Not if that meant swearing off good, old-fashioned, hot, and sweaty sex.

I’d just have to wait and see with whom I’d share it.