Chapter 8
The kittens explored the apartment while Paradise answered questions from Greene and his partner. The room smelled of garlic
and tomato sauce from the untouched pizza she’d ordered before the officers showed up. Square jaw tight and shoulders tense,
Blake sat close beside her on the sofa. A tiny black furball leaped at her bare feet, and she scooped up the fluffy kitten
for even more moral support.
Though Blake had brought in kitchen chairs for the two officers, they ignored them and continued to stand, most likely as
an intimidation tactic. She lifted her chin and stared at Greene. There had been far more intimidating characters to come
at her than him. He was like a banty rooster, all feathers and no substance, and she refused to look away from his accusing
eyes.
“Why would Ms. Cook have a file containing your life’s history?” Creed demanded.
The kitten kneaded her lap, then curled into a ball to sleep.
Paradise tipped up her chin to meet his glare.
“I have no idea. I had the briefest encounters with her. My primary job is caring for the animals’ medical needs, and as far as I recall, I might have said hello to her a total of three times in passing.
I never met her before she started working at the park, and her name wasn’t familiar—in other words, her surname wasn’t one I recognized. ”
“Did you feel threatened by her? Was she blackmailing you about something?”
Blake tensed beside her, and she put her hand on his forearm. “Detective Greene, listen to yourself. Do you realize how ludicrous
your questions sound?” She ignored the flush making its way up his neck and his tight mouth. “I’ve had enough of your accusations
over the past few months. I’m done answering questions.”
“I can take you down to the station.”
She set the kitten on Blake’s lap and stood. “Fine. Let’s do that. I’d love for Rod to see how you treat a victim.” Her cousin
Rod McShea was the sergeant in charge over at the Bon Secour sheriff substation. “It’s about time you let go of your vendetta
and focused on finding out who is behind the attacks on The Sanctuary—and on me personally. I’m not going to tolerate your
behavior any longer. I’m this close”—she held her thumb and forefinger an inch apart—“to filing a complaint with Internal
Affairs. I’m not kidding.”
He took a step back at her belligerence. “You have no grounds.”
“I think I do,” she shot back. “Sexual harassment for starters.” His partner startled and gave Creed a questioning stare.
“This vendetta started when I turned down your overtures.” She gestured at his left hand where a gold ring glinted. “Don’t
make me go to your wife and let her know what a sleazeball you are.”
The angry color fled his cheeks, leaving his green eyes to stare out at her from a pasty face. “You’d better not do that.
I don’t take kindly to threats.”
“I’m not making threats—I’m making promises of what I’ll do if you don’t stop this.” She took a step toward him. “Find the person behind all this. That’s your job—not wasting time by accusing the victims.”
Her lungs heaved in and out, and she couldn’t remember ever being so angry or fed up. Deep down she knew she and Blake would
have to solve this. The police would be no use. Rod might want to help, but he was short-staffed and harried with other cases.
Greene’s partner headed for the door without a word. Greene’s fists clenched and he turned and stomped after him. The kittens
dashed under the sofa to hide when the door slammed.
Still holding the black kitten, Blake stood and reached for her hand. “Wow, you were amazing. I wanted to do the same but
you stopped me, and after you took care of it, I could see why. Only you could point to the sexual harassment.” The kitten
struggled, and he put it down where it pounced on one of its littermates. “Has he made any more advances since that day you
arrived in town and he pulled you over?”
She didn’t want to answer, but anger pushed the words out anyway. “He leers all the time and made another pass when he came
to pick up the blasting materials we found the day we were taking care of the hippo.”
His lips flattened, and a dangerous glint sparked in his blue eyes. “I see. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I love you, Blake, but I can handle my own battles. I’m no damsel in distress, wringing my hands while a train barrels down
on me.” She managed a smile at his somber expression. “Most bullies turn tail and run when you hit back at them, and Greene
is no exception. I meant what I said too. I’ll file a complaint if this continues.”
“He’s not the type to back off, Paradise. His kind gets meaner and sneakier. If he can’t wear you down, he’ll go at you another way. I think he’s out for revenge.”
“And I’ll be ready,” she countered. For all her bravado, she couldn’t forget the hatred in Greene’s eyes as he stalked away.
Maybe she’d better be prepared with more than a dart gun. “Would you teach me to shoot a gun?”
He pulled her into his arms. “I’ll teach you. I might sleep easier at the thought of you here alone if I know you’re well
armed.”
That made two of them.
“I’ll go get one right now while you shower.”
This sleek little SIG P365 would fit nicely in Paradise’s small hands and would go a long way toward allaying his fears. Blake
left the gun shop with it and walked down Magnolia Street toward Pawsome Pets. He felt better knowing she had something more
than the tranquilizer gun. The smoky aroma of barbecue enveloped him as he walked past the newly opened Chet’s BBQ. He could
grab some for dinner with the family and take Paradise home with him.
Pawsome Pets’ Closed sign was in the door window, and he tucked the gun into the back of his jeans before climbing the steps
at the back of the building. As he ascended he checked the camera to make sure it was in place, then called the video up on
his app to make sure it was working. His own face stared back at him from his phone, and he swiped through the videos from
the past twenty-four hours. Only a curious raccoon had triggered it in the night.
Paradise opened the door before he could ring the bell. She’d showered, and a sleek bun tamed her light brown mane. “You were gone so long I was about to call you. I wanted to see what you thought about taking the kittens to show the boys.”
He stepped into the apartment, careful not to trample the kittens milling around her feet. The gray one leaped onto his jeans,
then dashed away. “You realize they’ll want to keep them. All of them. Mom will kill me.”
Her smile widened. “Big tough guy like you can handle your mother.” She stood on her toes and kissed him. “I’ll help you out
and tell them I have to keep at least two.”
Her fresh plumeria scent filled his head, and he pulled her closer. “I appreciate that,” he murmured against her lips. He
released her. “See if this fits.” He reached behind his back and tugged out the SIG. The little black gun lay in his palm
as he extended his hand. “It’s a SIG Sauer 365.”
She gasped. “Blake, it’s so cute! Almost too cute to cause much damage.” In a flash she had the gun in her hand. “It fits
my hand so well.”
“It’s lightweight, so you’ll have a good aim. The magazine has seventeen rounds, and I think you’ll like the trigger. Firm
but responsive. We need to go back to the gun shop and fill out the paperwork. I have ammo bagged for you behind the counter
too. It won’t take up much room in your purse or bedside table and it will be easy to grab.”
“I’ll need to learn to shoot it.”
He nodded. “The Dillard Ranch has a shooting range that butts up to the back side of The Sanctuary, and I’ll give you your
first lesson there. I have permission to use it anytime. We can grab barbecue for dinner and take the kittens with us on the
way out of Nova Cambridge.”
“Sounds like you’ve got the evening all planned out. I miss the boys and your mom. I haven’t spent any real time with them in three days.”
“I had strict orders to bring you home with me tonight.” He scooped up the fluffy black kitten rolling around on his shoes.
“You have a box for these little furballs?”
“I have a crate.” She went to get it, and the kittens leaped after her. She corralled them into the crate and fastened the
door. “How about you grab the food while I go to the gun shop and fill out the paperwork? It will get us home faster if we
divide and conquer.”
“Deal. I’ll take the kittens and meet you at my truck. It’s parked in the lot by the gun store.”
She opened the door and went down the stairs. He grabbed the crate and locked the door before following the aroma of barbecue
to Chet’s. They had an exterior window so people could take their food and eat at the picnic tables under the large overhang,
and he set the crate on the ground and got into line to place his order.
When the woman in front of him turned, he recognized Mary Steerforth’s profile. She and her husband, Allen, had owned The
Sanctuary property before Hank and Mom bought it at auction. “Mary, good to see you.”
She turned with a smile that made people forget the scars on her face from a tiger mauling. “Young Blake, you’re a handsome
sight for sore eyes. How’s your sweet mama and those little brothers?”
“They’re all good. You’re a little far from home.” She lived off Fort Morgan Road, and he guessed it would have taken her
forty-five minutes to get here in traffic this time of day.
“Allen’s nephew, Dean, got hired here, and I wanted to encourage him.
” She limped closer and lowered her voice.
“He’s been a challenge, that one, but he seems to be making a new start.
I wish it had happened before Allen passed.
We raised the boy off and on after his dad died, but he left with friends six years ago and hasn’t called or contacted us.
I heard a couple of months ago he was back in town, and I wanted to reconnect with him.
For Allen’s sake.” Her eyes filled with tears.
“And my own. He’s the only family I have.
He’s already driving me a little crazy though.
He keeps talking about a will Allen left, leaving him everything.
There was no will, and I don’t believe Allen would ever do that anyway.
Back then, Dean would have spent it all on drugs. ”
Blake squeezed her hand. “I’ll pray it works out.”
Over her shoulder he spotted a young man taking orders at the window. He looked to be about twenty-five with curly brown hair
and brown eyes. The smile he flashed at Mary was engaging and hopeful, which was a good sign.
Two more customers were ahead of Mary. “Did Allen ever hear there might be oil or gas deposits under The Sanctuary?” A woman
had trespassed with equipment that suggested she was looking for gas deposits, and Blake still wondered if that had anything
to do with the events that kept slamming them. He’d gone so far as to order some tests, but they weren’t back yet.
“There was some talk about it,” Mary said. “Allen planned to get it checked, but he was killed before he could order it.”
She persisted in her belief that her husband’s wreck was no accident, and she refused to believe he’d willingly taken drugs.
Blake wasn’t sure she was wrong.