Till Death Do Us Bark (20 page)

He set his hands on his hips. “The woman is useless. She told me she had a prescription for every Schedule Two drug she was taking, and it checked out. Interestingly enough, they were all filled in the Montauk pharmacy in the past three weeks. I really don’t want to ask her permission to do what I already have the authority to do.”

Ellie remembered Viv saying that Arlene had cleaned her medicine cabinet and tossed out a couple of dozen bottles of pills. Though her older sister might not have any smarts in choosing the right man, she was a member of Mensa. Surely she had gotten rid of anything incriminating.

“Are you going to arrest Ms. Millman?”

He crossed his arms and his biceps flexed, filling out his shirt and shaping each muscle. “I don’t plan on it, but she could be in trouble. Her sister, too. It depends on what I find inside.”

“And this has nothing to do with the murder?”

Ellie spun around to face Myron. She knew the voice he was imitating. She’d heard it somewhere before, but where? Just then her phone rang. Surprised by the tone, she automatically reached into her tote and pulled out the cell. When she checked the caller ID, she gave a mental eye roll. Leave it to Sam to pick tonight for a chat. Dropping it in the bag, she let the call go to voice mail.

“You could have taken it out here,” Jim said, cocky as ever. “Then again, I guess you already know that.”

She took a step forward to show him she wasn’t intimidated. “How would you know what I know?”

He grinned. “Ol’ Myron does a good job with Bill Withers, doesn’t he? ‘Ain’t No Sunshine’ is a golden oldie.”

No one had told Ellie what to do with the dopey bird, but someone always brought him in when it got dark. Since she was the last one on the terrace, she felt it was her turn to take care of the African gray. And the boys, before they did something they’d be sorry for.

Shrugging, she decided to ease up on faux Agent 007. He was correct. She couldn’t stop him from entering the premises. “Back off, you two. We have to let Mr. Bond in.”

She picked up Myron’s pedestal and her verbal sparring partner shot past the guard dogs. “Here. I’ll take that.” His fingers wrapped around hers, and just as quickly, he let go and backed away. “Sorry. Put it down, and I’ll do the job.”

Heat flamed up Ellie’s neck and crept over her cheeks. Good thing the terrace lights cast shadows or he’d see her blush, which would only make her turn a darker red. If she was still the color of a traffic cone, he might not notice, but she was almost back to normal. . . .

She took a step of retreat and held open the door. “We can bring him in the kitchen. He has a cleared spot there.”

The dogs marched in first. Then Jim carried in the perch and stepped aside to let Ellie lead the way. She flipped on the kitchen light and aimed for Myron’s special area while the bird squawked another round of phrases.

She was fairly certain the female voice belonged to Adrianne, but where had she heard that male voice? Arriving at Myron’s post, she pointed a finger. “Just set him down and give me a minute. He gets a slice of apple as a nightly snack.”

Jim edged past the dogs and headed into the dining room. “You do what you have to. I’ll get started.”

Ellie pulled an apple from the fruit bowl, rinsed it, and cut off a slice. Dropping to one knee, she gave each boy a chunk while whispering, “The man had a gun. He might have shot you both. Now be good.”

Standing, she chopped off another slice and brought it to Myron, who took the apple with his beak. “Tell me, Mr. Smarty-pants. Whose voice was that you mimicked a minute ago?”

Myron took a bit of the apple, then passed it to his clawed foot, chewing as he stared at her.

She returned to the counter, cut two more slices, and tossed them to the boys. “You’re an animal. Can’t you talk to that crabby-assed bird?” she asked Rudy. “That might solve some of the mystery.”

The dogs chomped the apple down and sat at attention. “Really, think about talking to him for me, please?”

“Sorry. No can do,”
said Rudy, licking his muzzle
. “That parrot reminds me of a lawyer; all talk and no common sense. They both talk bird-speak and I don’t.”

“Well, I don’t ‘speak bird,’ either, and you’re a lot closer to him on the evolutionary chain than I am.” She wiped the countertop with a sponge and rinsed it out, then washed her hands. “Guess I’d better go find Agent Double O Seven before he gets into something he shouldn’t.” She walked to the rear staircase. “You two, go up this way and head straight to bed. No snooping or annoying Jim.”

The dogs grumbled, but did as told. Ellie wanted to see what Jim was doing, so she followed his tracks. If he found something in the doctor’s office, she wanted to know about it. When she arrived in the foyer, she caught a glimmer of light from the hall that led to the library and Arlene’s office and figured he’d gone there first. Then she took a better look and realized the area was still fairly dark. She stepped toward a side table holding a lamp. She’d need more wattage to find her way into the hall.

“Hey, Jim, have any luck?” she called out. When he didn’t answer, she opened her mouth to give another shout. The hall turned dark as a tomb, and before she could speak, a large figure came rushing toward her.

Plowing into her like a pro linebacker, the man shoved her out of the way and knocked her into the table, where she fell flat on her ass. Glass crashed as she hit the floor and she banged her head on the way down.

She saw stars. Footsteps pounded down the stairs and the dogs barked. A moment later everything went black.

Muscled arms held Ellie tight, but in a good way. When something cool pressed against her left temple, a flash of pain shot into her brain. She struggled to get away, but those same arms tensed around her, keeping her in place.

“Sit still and let me clean you up a little.”

Another familiar voice . . . it was . . . it was . . .

She opened her eyes and slammed them shut. Damn, the light was bright. Moving, she felt another pain hit her and slumped into those warm, hard arms.

“Do you think anything’s broken? Can you talk?”

“Head hurts. Don’t wanna,” she said with a moan.

His chest shook and she knew he was laughing.

“I can’t believe a big tough girl like you would let a little pain shut you up.”

Big girl?
Was that another crack about her weight? “It’s my head, not yours, bozo.”

“Ah, there’s the woman I’m used to dealing with.”

She sat up and this time the arms let her go. Wincing, she cracked open her eyes, hoping to fend off that darned bright light. Through a haze, she saw khaki-colored pants crouched beside her outstretched legs. She blinked, her eyes opening wider, and let her gaze wander up a flat stomach and chest to well-formed shoulders, a corded neck, strong jaw, and . . .

What was she doing in the arms of James Bond, with his
GQ
face just inches from her nose?

Pushing him away, she groaned. “What the heck did you do to me?”

He chuckled. “Me? Not a darn thing. I heard a crash and came down the stairs as fast as I could. Stupid dogs almost tripped me when they raced from behind me to the bottom of the steps. They took off out the door and I haven’t seen them since.”

“What!” She groped against him. “I’ve got to get Rudy. And T. It’s dark. They don’t know this area.” Rising to her knees, she put her hands on the floor to push herself up. Pain sliced her left palm and she hissed.

“Slow down and take it easy. There are shards of glass all over the place.” He grabbed her upper arm. “Here, lean on me and I’ll help you to stand.”

Ellie found her footing and swayed right into those rock-hard arms again.

“Hey, you’re not going to pass out on me, are you?”

She shook her head and a jackhammer started pounding double time in her brain. “No, I’m okay,” she lied. “I have to find my dogs.”

“Screw the dogs. You’ve got a knot on your temple the size of an egg, and now you’ve cut your palm. Sit here and hold this towel on your head while I take a look outside.”

He moved a rattan side chair out of place and tucked her into it. She blinked in the light as he walked through the foyer and disappeared. It gave her time to survey her surroundings. The glass-topped table next to the chair was overturned, the crystal vase that had sat upon it shattered on the hardwood floor, while seashells lay scattered alongside the glass.

Checking the towel he’d handed her, she saw traces of blood. Her blood. What the heck had happened?

She reached back in her memory, hoping to recall something of the night. Jim Bond arrived while she was on the terrace and waved a search warrant. Myron sang and squawked, so she brought him inside and gave him and the dogs a piece of apple. Jim left to do whatever, and she sent Rudy and T up the rear stairs, and followed Agent 007 to the front of the house.

She saw light filtering from the hallway and figured he’d gone to the doc’s office first. When she called, he didn’t answer, so she opened her mouth . . .

And a human steam engine ran her down.

“Well, crap,” she muttered, dabbing at the lump. Wincing, she laid her head on the back of the chair. If the door had slammed, and she thought it had, how did the dogs get out? And what did Rudy think he was doing? Despite his bravado, he was as inept at catching a burglar as she was.

She pictured the dark hulking shape that had run at her as if she were invisible.

Heaving a breath, she held the cool towel to her temple. Jim was right. The lump was big and it hurt. Forget the jackhammer. If she didn’t know better, she’d swear the entire cast of
Riverdance
was giving a runthrough performance inside her skull.

She closed her eyes and tried to relax. Moments later something furry landed in her lap.

A slurp of wet stroked her cheek, and she smiled.

“I’m fine. Just got run down by some idiot and hit my head. Where were you?”

Rudy nuzzled against her chest.
“T and I were checkin’ out Agent Ass-wipe and we heard a scuffle. When we headed down the stairs, we saw a guy run out the door, so we took off after him.”

“I thought I told you to go straight to bed.”

He gave her cheek another lick.
“Yeah, well, lucky for you that didn’t happen.”

She ran her free hand down his head and back, then wrapped him in her arm. “Don’t ever scare me like that again, you big knucklehead.”

“Is Twink here?”

“Mr. T is ready and waitin’.”
The Jack Russell set his paws on her knee.
“We would’a caught that fool if he hadn’t taken off in a car.”

Footsteps sounded in the foyer and she whispered, “We’ll talk later. Hush for now.”

“Who are you talking to?” asked Jim.

“Myself. I’ve been trying to piece things together and I think I have a handle on what happened.” She forced a weak smile when he stood in front of her. “Thanks for finding the boys.”

“They found me.”

She arched an eyebrow at Rudy and moaned at the pain. “What they’re good at finding is trouble.”

“My guess is whoever slammed into you left a car running out front. The dogs just missed him, but they chased the car.”

Jim squatted beside the chair and Mr. T showed his teeth.

She patted his head.
“Shh
, no talking.”

Jim pulled back out of striking range. “He’s not talking. He’s growling.” He took her hand and removed the towel from her head. “You’re going to have a mother of a bruise come morning. Give me that and I’ll get more ice. We can go over things when I get back.”

He left and she patted her thigh, signaling Mr. T. He jumped up next to Rudy and she held both dogs tight. “You two are the best.” She squeezed until they wriggled. “Tell me what you remember, but make it fast.”

“He was a big guy. When he slammed the door, it bounced back and smacked the wall,”
muttered T, his muzzle against her chest.

“He got to his car before we did, so we just missed jumpin’ up the side and getting a look at his face. He took off like he was drivin’ at NASCAR.”
Rudy gave her chin a lick, then pushed his nose into her neck.
“We tried, Triple E, but he got away.”