French Quarter (46 page)
“C’mon, Jazzy,” she said. “We’re going for a ride.”
Jazzy rolled his eyes. Leigh couldn’t tell anyone her dog did that, but he did–sort of–if there was something he didn’t want to do. Jazzy didn’t much like riding in the car, particularly not when he was already curled up and comfy on one of Leigh’s freshly cleaned chair seats.
She opened the front door and barely stopped herself from falling over a box and a small ice chest. Gabriel must have sensed on the phone that she wasn’t ready for visitors. “You’re a good man, Mr. Jones,” she said aloud, hauling the box, then the ice chest to the kitchen. A potted poinsettia with leaves in two shades of deep pink, nestled between coffee, bread and several boxes of cookies.
Leigh sighed. This was all part of tackling a normal life again and she had better get used to it. Gabriel was being thoughtful and kind and the plant was beautiful, obviously one of the many that had not been sold over Christmas.
“Doggy treat,” Leigh called out, producing a surprising box of rawhide chews.
Instantly, Jazzy raced into the kitchen, his blackcurrant eyes shining behind the wispy fringe of beige hair. He stood on his hind legs and danced, until he could grab the chew and take off.
Leigh put the poinsettia on the draining board and gave it some water. When she turned around, Jazzy was back–without the chew--and standing on his hind legs again, pawing the air like a miniature wild horse.
“Pig,” Leigh said, knowing her shaggy friend’s penchant for hoarding. “Okay, but don’t come back again.” She gave him another, bigger chew and scratched his head.
Half an hour later, the groceries put away and a cup of tea in hand, Leigh headed into the living room, sat down and stretched out her legs. If she wasn’t careful she’d fall asleep in the chair and appealing as that might be, it wouldn’t feel so good in the morning.
The front door was still open–just a few inches–and a cold draft slid through.
Leigh got up trudged across the floor. She could hear Jazzy gnawing on his chew. Arching her back, she listened again and held her breath. The sound of teeth scraping across something hard got louder—too loud to be made by her little dog.
She looked outside and it took all the restraint she had not to scream.
Side-by-side on the porch lay Jazzy and a new companion. Jazzy chewed the little piece of rawhide. His friend gnawed the other one.
“Jazzy, come here,” Leigh croaked,
Her contrary buddy stared at her, then licked the face of the other animal…wolf, giant mutant dog, something escaped from a zoo somewhere or whatever it was. Leigh wanted to slam her door on the blue-black creature with massive shoulders, hard muscle that undulated with even the slightest move, and lion-sized feet.
It stared at her with soft golden eyes while she shivered and poised herself to grab her silly, trusting little dog and pull him to safety.
The giant rose slowly, backed away a step or two. He was a magnificent dog, she decided, and very scary. With one paw he batted Jazzy on the butt, sending him toward Leigh a whole lot faster than he ever moved by choice.
Back rippling beneath the wiry fur along its spine, what was left of the chew delicately balanced between his teeth, their bizarre visitor lumbered from the porch and was instantly absorbed into shadows.
She thought she heard soft, measured footfalls that entered the forest and kept on loping. Only, of course she couldn’t hear an animal walking on spongy ground from this distance. Or see a faint, gauzy trail of silver slipping from the bluff to follow in the dog’s wake…
About the Author
Stella Cameron is the
New York Times
best selling author of the acclaimed Court of Angels Series, the Bayou Books and many others. There are fourteen million copies of her books in circulation worldwide. She is the recipient of the Pacific Northwest Achievement Award for distinguished professional achievement and for enhancing the stature of the Northwest Literary community. She lives in Washington State.
Learn more about Stella Cameron on the web at:
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More books from Stella Cameron
French Quarter
Breathless
Out of Sight
Out of Mind
Out of Body
Cypress Nights
A Cold Day in Hell
Target
A Marked Man
A Grave Mistake
Body of Evidence
Now You See Him
Kiss Them Goodbye
Cold Day in July
Finding Ian
Tell Me Why
Novellas from Stella Cameron
Bargain Bride
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