19
The dog was back. Raquel wasn’t even surprised. She’d showered, dressed, then headed straight downstairs to open the front door. Where, of course, the pale boxy Lab sat expectantly. Raquel gave him a stern look. He yawned expansively.
“Seriously?”
Second yawn.
“Forget canine opportunist. I hereby rename you Little Shit.” She swore the damn thing grinned.
She stepped outside to join the dog on the porch. She could hear Theo in the kitchen, chattering away on the phone with someone or another. She was less interested in the activities inside the house, however, than outside.
First up, the driveway was quieter. Only two vehicles versus yesterday’s fifty-car pileup.
From the bedroom window, she’d spotted several people working the well/gravesite.
Based on their casual dress, she was guessing the anthropologists.
Theo had informed her they worked for mere peanuts, like five hundred dollars a case according to him, the department surviving mostly on donations.
She’d assumed this was his way of telling her he’d be writing a large check.
She never questioned his financial decisions.
He came from money, continued to make massive amounts of money; ergo, his money, his problem.
He did agree, as part of her marriage stipulations, that she would always retain her own earnings.
In return, she was happy to sign away any and all claims to his assets.
Being Theo, he’d refused. Being herself, she’d had a lawyer generate a prenup, which she’d signed and delivered herself.
Theo had spluttered but known when he was beaten.
She always pictured his parents doing a happy dance in the background. Finally, something they agreed upon.
Now Raquel stepped out onto the front corner where the dog liked to take up position.
She searched the surrounding woods, the bare-limbed trees practically shivering from the below-freezing November temps.
She waited for signs of yesterday’s visitor, a flash of movement, a telling silhouette.
Maybe a rustle of wildlife to give the spy away.
She got…nothing.
The dog, who’d padded to her side and was now resuming his completely contrived, totally innocent stance, yawned for the third time.
“Take it from me,” she reprimanded him. “Never overdo your role. Less is more. Right now, you’re simply convincing me there’s a serial killer about to attack. You’re a smart boy. Work on it.”
The dog had the dignity to appear contrite. She gave him credit for that.
Lacking visual confirmation…Raquel simply stood.
She stopped seeing, hearing, smelling. She simply was.
Turning her focus inward, toward that deepest, most innate part of herself.
Primal instinct. Where she was less human, more animal.
But also, so cold, cold, cold. As rip out the throat of an unsuspecting gazelle, kill shot to an enemy’s forehead kind of cold.
One of the specialists had commented that she’d make a great military asset or counterintelligence spy, if she so chose.
She sometimes thought of writing him to disclose she’d become an interior decorator instead, but she didn’t want to disappoint him that much—that doc had been one of the better ones.
Now, waiting for the telltale prickle across her skin, that sixth sense of being in the crosshairs. Someone is watching…
But again, nothing. The woods were quiet. No figure appeared, no gaze bored into her soul. The visitor/intruder/stalker was not present. Apparently, the person had sent the dog in her stead.
“Are you an evil minion or simply cheap labor?” she asked.
She got a blank stare.
“Hey. You and I both know you’re the smartest life-form in the room, so no playing stupid now.”
The dog continued playing innocent.
She scowled at him. “Fine, breakfast it is, but don’t think for a minute I don’t know your game.”
Then, as she turned toward the front door, her chest inexplicably constricting: She dropped to a knee, held the dog close. She raised her voice enough to carry, just in case.
“I know this won’t make any sense to you,” she addressed the dog.
“It’s never made any sense to me. But Theo…
he’s one of the good ones. He leads with optimism, sees the best in everyone, and offers up pure compassion.
The world needs more Theos in it. Me, not so much.
You wanna dance in hell, I’m totally your gal.
“Whatever you have planned, I’m happy to show up at the party. Just bear in mind…” She rose to standing, stared hard at the woods. “Game on, sweetheart. And trust me on this, I have no intention of fighting fair. So buckle up. Whatever this is, I promise to make it a bumpy ride.”
She strode back into the house, the dog hot on her heels, only to run straight into Theo, who, to judge by his expression, had just gotten off the phone with his mother.
Fuck it all.
Theo greeted the dog with a head pat and ear scratch, as if he’d been expecting him.
In return, their on-again, off-again mutt followed Theo into the kitchen, where he took up position in front of the stove.
Theo agreeably offered a few morsels of scrambled eggs to the dog, before dumping the rest of his breakfast into a bowl and carrying it to their dining room table.
Raquel grabbed her yogurt and followed. She sat down kitty-corner to her husband and waited. Sure enough:
“It’s time to think of getting a lawyer. Also a media consultant.”
Yep, he’d definitely been on the phone with his parents.
“I thought we had a lawyer,” she responded carefully. “If not four or five.”
“Ah, but do we have the right lawyer? They come in many different sizes and shapes, or at least, specialties.”
“Which specialty are you thinking?”
“Criminal.”
“We’ve broken the law?” She arched a brow.
“I hope not. But having a skeleton discovered on our property opens up a whole slew of questions and possibilities. Just want to make sure we don’t make any missteps.
Two-hundred-year-old historic homicide, great, nothing to worry about.
But a more recent event resulting in an active investigation…
Things could get more complicated. Hence paying some suit the big bucks. ”
Raquel simply nodded. Where she came from, there were no big bucks to pay, and you’d certainly never hand over precious dollars to a stuffed shirt. But she’d long since learned the rich really were different. “And the media consultant?”
“This property was infamous to begin with. Add to that yet another macabre discovery, and this is gonna get real intense real fast.”
Another nod. He wasn’t saying anything she didn’t already know. And dread.
Theo used his fingers to offer up another bite of egg whites to the dog, who accepted delicately. Both man and dog stared at her. She swallowed another spoonful of yogurt, returned their gaze just as levelly.
“My mother hired a private investigator to look into you,” Theo stated.
Ah, so they really were going to do this.
“After the first time I brought you home. She was worried. Plus, let’s face it, she’s a naturally cold and suspicious creature. It’s part of her charm.”
Raquel gave him a look
“She didn’t find anything. Or maybe, she didn’t find what she hoped.”
“No smoking gun that I’m a con woman, or thief, or, I don’t know, serial killer.” Raquel was pleased with how even her voice sounded. All these years later, she could still lie with the best of them. Maybe next time around she would become a secret agent.
“She determined you were financially sound, with no crippling debts and a better-than-average credit rating. Also, no arrests, convictions, or outstanding warrants.”
“Be still my beating heart.”
“You’re also a homeowner.”
Raquel stilled slightly, forced herself to take another bite of yogurt.
“Small cabin in rural Pennsylvania. I’ve never heard you mention it. I didn’t even know you had ties to that area.”
“Family legacy,” she dismissed lightly.
“I didn’t know you had any family.”
The essence of a good lie was sticking as close as possible to the truth. “We’re not in touch.”
“But you kept a run-down shack?”
She waved her hand around their current abode. “Clearly I have a fondness for old things.”
Theo holding her gaze. Theo, staring, staring, staring.
She loved those eyes, their deep blue color.
She loved the lines of his face, the feel of his whiskers against her fingertips.
For a second, she was tempted to lean forward and bring her lips to his.
A nip of her teeth, a delicate brush of her tongue, and she could make him forget these silly questions.
She’d lure him upstairs, for the kind of exchange they did best.
But she couldn’t bring herself to do it. He was too smart not to recognize the distraction, and in the end, it would just cheapen something they both valued.
“You weren’t born with the name Raquel. Will you grant me that much?”
Faint nod. The moment she’d heard “private investigator,” she’d known that jig was up.
Despite what people might think, a legal name change was no magic cover.
The change itself became a matter of public record, not to mention the new name remained tied to the same old Social Security number—hence people couldn’t use a new moniker to avoid criminal charges or escape financial debts.
You could change your identity, move to a new state, and start a whole new life, but the paperwork would still find you in the end.
“I never liked my birth name,” she allowed.
The dog settled onto its haunches and tilted his head slightly, as if to encourage further disclosure. Honestly, she was beginning to wonder if the damn thing wasn’t wired with some kind of recording device.