Beowolf

Chapter Nine

Beowolf walked on one side of Nutsbe and Olivia on the other. Nutsbe was a head taller than Olivia, and that was while wearing heels. Up close, his shoulders were as broad, and he was as solid as he looked when he ran past her house, athletic.

For some reason, seemingly outside her control, her fingers twitched against her thigh, wishing she could slide her hand into Nutsbe’s where it belonged. It didn’t belong there; she’d just met the guy. He was just familiar, familial even, because he regularly jogged by her house.

And to be honest, after seeing Candace’s distress, Olivia’s emotions were barbed. She could use the comfort of human touch.

Bob stood at the end of the sidewalk. He held up his phone. “If I don’t move more than three inches, I can get a signal here. Strange.” Bob tipped his head. “Are you okay, Olivia? You look tired.”

“Oh, yeah, fine.” She combed her fingers over her scalp so her hair fell down her back and out of her eyes. “Motorcycles have been roving around the neighborhood, keeping me up with their noise.”

“They have earplugs for that,” Bob said kindly.

“Situational awareness.” Olivia gave a half smile. “There aren’t usually motorcycles in our neighborhood. And not that loud. And not making a circuit.” She did a half turn to face Nutsbe. “Have you heard them?”

“I have.” He gestured a sit command, and Beowolf plopped his butt onto the cement. “Turns out Olivia and I live in the same neighborhood,” he explained to Bob, then focused back on her. “They were an annoying buzz, but I slept through them just fine. I got used to the constant activity of a military base. But now that you say that, it does stand out as strange.”

“You need a dog to take over the situational awareness and let you get some sleep,” Bob shoved his phone back in his pocket.

“I have Henrietta,” Olivia said with a sigh. “She likes her beauty sleep too much to be bothered with alerting me.” She paused and focused into the distance. “You know, I’m not sure what Hen would do if a bad guy showed up at my house. I have a terrible feeling that she might try to lick the guy to death.” Olivia flicked a smile toward Bob, then checked her watch. “Speaking of Hen, I need to run by the house and get her fed, then it’s back to the office. I’ve got some work to do for a grand jury that was just seated.” Olivia stepped forward and bent to give Beowolf a kiss. “I’m so glad to have met you.” When she stood, she handed Nutsbe the terrycloth slobber rag from their greeting. “Thank you for this.”

Shoving the cloth into his pocket, Nutsbe asked, “Do you usually do two high-dollar trials at the same time?”

“This one happened to land in my area of expertise, and I wanted to be involved. I’ll be burning the midnight oil for the next week or so. I have a long night ahead of me, so I better get going.” She extended her hand. “Bob, I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your coming to the rescue with Nutsbe and Beowolf. I promise not to make this short-notice thing a habit.”

“Don’t let that stop you if you find yourself in another bind, Olivia. It doesn’t hurt to ask. We’ll step up when we can.”

“Nutsbe, so glad to finally put a name with a jogger. It’s nice to know you’re on the other side of the fence.” She offered a finger wave as she walked to her car and climbed in.

“Nice to know you’re on the other side of the fence?” Olivia muttered to herself after she shut her door. It sounded like she was glad there was a fence between them, and she was not.

She pinched the top of her nose and closed her eyes as she filled her lungs with air.

Okay, today had been a long day, and she had used a lot of words. Right now, she was going to give herself a bit of grace.

Olivia reached forward and pressed the engine on as she reviewed her conversation in the house.

There was something about Nutsbe’s eyes—the way he looked at her—that seemed to tug at her secrets. Well, not secrets per se—just not conversational fodder with a stranger that was so incredibly personal. Only Jaylen and her attorney knew Mickey had left her for someone else. Not even her siblings knew about the tawdry end of her marriage.

And then there was the fact that—even though there was a sobbing woman rolling on the carpet with a dog—this had still been a professional meeting, not a social call.

Okay. No more of that. Move your thoughts elsewhere.

She let her motor idle while Nutsbe and Bob loaded Beowolf into the Iniquus vehicle.

Beowolf was exactly the dog Bob had described over the phone as a gentle giant. Just looking at him had a calming effect.

He was lion-sized, though. And it would be a trick for him to go unnoticed when he went into court with Candace, the way Valor might have done.

With the Iniquus team driving off and her seat belt in place, Olivia put her car in gear. Twisting to look over her shoulder as she backed down the drive, she caught a glance of herself in the rearview mirror—face flushed, eyes bright. The grin painting across her face was too big and toothy. She didn’t remember smiling. Had she been smiling like this the whole time?

Olivia shifted into drive, started down the road, and at the stop sign, looked at herself again. Still smiling, still pink-faced, she put her hand to her forehead to see if she was feverish, but her skin was cool. She tried to drop the smile, but it popped right back into place.

That was how she had looked in there?

That was how Nutsbe had seen her?

The car behind her tapped its horn in a friendly, “Could you move it along?” beep. She raised her hand by way of apology and turned the corner.

To think, Nutsbe had been living behind her, possibly for the entire two years since she’d moved in. Years. Of course, with that fence, it wasn’t like she could have wandered up to his kitchen door and asked to borrow a cup of sugar. But no doubt, had she known he lived there, she would have found some excuse to go over and introduce herself. After all, she had figured out what time he jogged, the mornings when he ran.

Tumbling that through her mind now made Olivia feel uncomfortable. Sure, he was cute and built, and she had thought of him as an innocent bit of eye candy while she drank her coffee. No, not even that. That wasn’t a good characterization. There was something safe about his jogging by. Something comforting about knowing he was in the area.

Stop smiling.

He knew Henrietta from his jogs.

Yeah, Henrietta liked him, too, and always went over to stand in the window or the opened door to watch him. Henrietta was actually the reason Olivia spotted Nutsbe in the first place, and Henrietta was the reason why Olivia knew when Nutsbe was coming up the road.

Yeah, she wasn’t the stalker. Her dog was.

Olivia understood why; Nutsbe just had “good guy” written all over him. And speaking to him didn’t diminish that image in Olivia’s mind.

Although, that look of utter helplessness on his face when Candace started crying, had been comical.

It was endearing to watch a tough guy go all mush.

Other than that, he was as she had seen him on his runs.

And what might he think of me? Olivia wondered. She peeked over at the mirror again. If I was grinning like this, he would have thought I was high on something.

And there was that whole thing about Mickey.

The more Olivia went back sentence by sentence through their discussion, the more uncomfortable she became with her behavior. If that were a movie scene, it would depend entirely on the background music to define the genre of the film. Put a little horror music on, and her “Hey, I live behind you. I’m getting divorced, I watch you run” conversation would make most audiences call out, “Boy, you’re in danger.”

Olivia reached for her phone. “Hey, Jaylen, I’m driving with you on speaker. Whatchya doing?”

“Tilly is fresh from her bath and is reading to her dolls. I am picking rice out of the carpet from her dinner. I forgot to lay the plastic down under her seat. Are you heading home?”

“Home to feed Henrietta and let her take a quick pee. I give her ten - fifteen minutes tops. I need to text her pet sitter and ask for some extra snuggle time tomorrow. I think Henrietta needs me to get another dog so she can have a companion. She used to have Mickey’s cats, and she did fine, but she’s been mopey lately. She has to be lonely.”

“Another Cockapoodle-do?” Jaylen asked.

“Maybe? I don’t think it would be fair to get a puppy. I just don’t have the time right now. Maybe a rescue that’s about Henny’s age. It’s something on my list of things to figure out. First, I want to get the divorce finished up.” Olivia looked in the mirror, and her expression had returned to normal. Jaylen was a dependable, stabilizing influence, and Olivia was grateful for that.

“So why fifteen minutes tops?”

“Looming deadlines. I’m going back to the office to get some paperwork done. Later this evening, I have a meeting with Steph.”

“Did you eat?”

“No. I plan to go through a drive-through or something on the way home from the office later.” Olivia reassured her. “My day’s just been slammed.”

“Hey, wasn’t this afternoon the meet and greet with the court dog? How did that go? Was she sweet?”

“Beowolf? Boy dog. He was like hot chocolate on a snow day. I don’t know any other way to describe him.”

“So he and the handler person got along well with your witness?”

“Yeah, it’s usually a woman. But this time …” Olivia felt herself blush. “Jaylen, it was ridiculous. My mouth opened, and it was like I just decided to get fully naked in front of this guy.”

“What are you saying? Like you lost your mind and ripped off your clothes? This guy must be sexy as hell.”

Olivia wiped a hand over her forehead, into her hair, and scratched her scalp. “Yeah, he is. But that was a sad attempt at a simile.” She checked her side mirrors and switched to the fast lane. “And get this, turns out that he’s my behind-the-house neighbor.”

“The one with the great fence?”

“That one. Also, the one that I told you about, the guy that jogs by most mornings, the one that Henrietta drools over in the front window? Yeah, he noticed her. He knew the house when I told him. Though, fortunately, when I told him about seeing him jogging, I left out any mention of drooling.”

“The neighborhood Adonis? Are you kidding me right now? Great fence and killer bod?”

“He’s better close up. He’s got hazel eyes that are smart, engaged, emotional, thinking. Yeah, good eyes. And I liked the amusement crinkles at the corners. Like he sees life for all of its absurdities. Mmm, it wasn’t like he thought what was happening was some kind of joke. It was that he seemed nice. Genuine.”

“Genuine crows’ feet,” Jaylen deadpanned.

Olivia ignored that. “And he had this rich brown colored hair with bronze highlights, and it looked clean.”

“Clean hair, huh? Well, that’s a positive.”

“I mean, it looked—” Olivia searched for a good descriptor. “Yeah, clean and soft.”

Jaylen snorted. “So you pet him like the dog?”

Olivia caught herself grinning again. “Maybe I wanted to. But I was able to restrain myself.”

“So a chiseled jawline, an athletic bod, and amusement crinkles. No wonder you were ripping off your clothes.”

“Cut it out. I didn’t rip off my—okay, not literally. In my mind? Possibly. Probably. We sat off to the side while my witness sobbed against the dog. Beowolf, by the way, is the most loveable carnival first-prize-sized teddy bear of a dog I have ever seen. Do you know who he reminded me of? Nana from Peter Pan.” Olivia answered herself without giving Jaylen a guess.

“St. Bernard?” Jaylen asked. “For court?”

“Bullmastiff,” Olivia corrected. “Two hundred pounds. But he was gentle and nurturing.”

“Okay. And you were imagining yourself naked in this scene? Look, Olivia,” Jaylen’s voice turned exasperated. “I’m tired, and I have my attention on you, the rice mess, and Tilly all at the same time. Stop talking in circles. Cut to the chase.”

“I told Nutsbe about Mickey leaving me, then the woman dumping Mickey, then Mickey wanting me to take him back.”

“Did you also tell him that Mickey thought the other woman’s money bags were present-day, and your money bags were years in the future?” Jaylen’s voice ratcheted up with indignation like it always did whenever they were talking about Mickey. “That the shithead would rather be a millionaire present tense, than wait for your aunt to pass. A bird in the hand kind of disgusting thought process? You told him that?”

“I didn’t say that, no. Just that my divorce is the reason I have a raspberry door with an extra splash of TMI.” Olivia rubbed her thumb between her brows, hoping the throb wouldn’t become a full-blown headache.

“Yeah, I guess that’s a lot to take in with a greeting handshake.”

Olivia’s phone rang.

“Let me guess, Mickey.”

“Yup.”

“Take it,” Jaylen said. “At least tell him that you want this to stop. It’s harassment, isn’t it?”

“I’ll do that. Tell him I’m blocking the number. Look, I’ll call you back when I get home, so you don’t worry. Love you!”

On the third ring, Olivia swiped the call open. “What?” she barked.

“Thank god. Olivia, listen. This is an emergency. I need to talk to you now. In person.”

“Your lawyer can talk to my lawyer in court.”

“Please, Olivia. I’m begging you. I have something to tell you, and not over the phone. Are you at your place? I’m heading that way now.”

Fear sizzled up her spine.

Olivia had had enough court cases where the victim said, “I should have trusted my instincts. I knew that something bad was waiting for me if I walked past that car. But—” There was always a “but,” which usually involved expense or inconvenience. “But I didn’t have money for a cab.” “But it was raining, and I was tired.”

Not wanting to fall into that category, Olivia lied. “I am not. And I won’t be heading home in the foreseeable future. I’m not staying at the Millrace house right now. So you’re heading in the wrong direction.” She pulled to a stop at the light. “I’m hanging up and blocking your number. Don’t you dare reach out to me in any way ever again.”

A veil of perspiration left her damp and cold. She reached out a shaking hand to cut off the vents, then gripped the steering wheel.

Olivia had been in the courtroom facing down violent predators for over a decade. Was her job frightening at times? Absolutely.

But in all of her years dealing with objectively dangerous criminals, Olivia had never experienced this wash of absolute primal terror lighting her nerves like this. She was heading toward a full-blown panic attack.

Flipping her blinker on, Olivia pulled to the side of the road, hoping her heart would stop thundering in her chest. She rested her head between her hands on the steering wheel and tried to find some space for air around the edges of her terror.