Data wandered back toward Lynley and trilled at her, his serious golden eyes staring into hers as if he knew. Yes, as Dean Koontz had once pointed out in a novel, cats knew things. Data knew more than most, and he had an extensive language that she wished she could understand. He howled when she cried, and she could tell from the tone of his trill that he was worried about her.
John checked the rest of the house with weapon in hand. Lynley sank into the love seat. Data jumped onto her lap. He nudged her chin with his cold, wet nose and his purr gave her a tiny sense of normalcy in this otherwise treacherous morning—as she believed it was meant to.
She buried her face in a white splotch of his black-and-white fur, and came up with a nose filled with cat hair. “Oh, Data, I love you dearly, but right now I wish God had placed you into the body of a Rottweiler.”
But people also killed big, scary animals to get to their victims. Who knew what a crazy person would do?
John returned with his weapon holstered once more. “I’ll call the hospital, let them know what’s happening.”
“Why?”
“To cancel your shifts for the rest of the week.”
“No. We get some tough characters in the ER, and we have tough men who can handle them. Our guys work out.”
His eyes narrowed just a tad. Was that a hint of jealousy she saw there? “So do I.” His voice was almost too quiet. “But why risk an unnecessary attack?”
“Finding another nurse to cover for me—”
“Can be done more easily than hiring extra security to protect you and everyone around you.”
She didn’t feel like arguing. “Where’s Mom? Isn’t she supposed to be here by now?”
John hesitated and glanced at his watch. “Gerard would have called if there was a problem.” But he didn’t sound as sure as she’d have liked.
She knew she wouldn’t be able to breathe deeply until Mom came walking through the front door, safe and secure.
Christmas celebrations had just come to a nasty stop, and Lynley had no idea what the New Year would bring for Jolly Mill, Missouri.
* * *
John watched Lynley with the practiced eye of his profession. It was a good thing he’d learned the hard lessons on the police force: things about keeping his frightened thoughts to himself, keeping his emotions from showing on his face—most of the time—and keeping a steady hand on his weapon. Controlling his behavior didn’t help with his usual gut response to stress, but knowing he could be fit and ready to face what came at him did help him feel safer. Not cocky, just competent.
He stepped out to the glass doors once more to study what he could of the forest to the east of the house. Still no movement. Unfortunately, no one else lived to the east of the house, but someone from the village below, across the creek, might have seen someone here earlier. This afternoon he or Gerard could make some calls, and he was sure Kirstie would want to contact her friends.
He thanked God for Gerard Vance, ex-cop, guardian of those in need. The big man had about twenty pounds on John—mostly muscle—and a couple of years on him, as well, which helped in situations that required experience. John hadn’t realized, when he moved here and took this job in the summer, how difficult it would be to handle the job without backup. He missed his colleagues in Sikeston.
John glanced over his shoulder to the love seat, where Lynley allowed Data, Kirstie’s black-and-white ten-ton cat, to maul her into a furry mess. Focusing on everyday things gave him peace. Apparently, it comforted Lynley, as well, because she simply brushed the fur from her face and continued to snuggle. The cat actually had his front legs wrapped around Lynley’s neck. John could hear a loud purr from where he stood.
It had been over ten minutes since John called Gerard. Like Lynley, he’d expected to see them here five minutes ago. The homeless rehab center was within walking distance from here—barely a block and a half uphill.
He left Lynley cuddling the cat and took the stairs to the upper hallway, where he could get a better perspective of the hillside to the east. Something caught his attention—movement below, near the creek, too far away to get a good look, or even to tell if it was male or female, only that the figure was an adult.
Before he could turn to hunt down Kirstie’s binoculars to get a better look at the figure, several people came running out of the center up on the hillside above the house, and he saw a child tripping around the winter leaves, far above the mystery person.
He called Gerard once more, feeling overly dependent as he did so.
“Sorry, John,” Gerard said when he answered. “We had us a little emergency.” There were chattering voices, a crying child, shouting in the background.
“Let me guess. A child hunt?”
“You’ve been watching. Yep, one of the little ones wandered outside, and his parents couldn’t find him for a few minutes. He’s probably not going to do that again. Gave us a fright, though, especially me, in light of your own little scare.”
For a moment, John pondered that. “Got a question for you, but don’t take offense.” With as few words as possible, John filled Gerard in on the situation, then said, “You don’t think anyone from your center could—”
“You’re wondering if your culprit might be someone from here.”
“It crossed my mind. I’m looking for any and all answers at this point.”
“I’ve considered it. I’m not omniscient, John. No matter how many background checks I give these people before we bring them here, it’s always possible someone could slip through. When I convinced the town council to let us set up shop here, I gave my word that no harm would come to the town because of it. I’ll do anything to keep that promise.”
“That child wouldn’t have chanced to spot someone else in the woods, do you think?”
“Why? Did you see someone else?”
“Sure did.”
“Hold on, let me ask.”
John waited while he heard a conflagration of voices in the background. Most of the homeless people who came to the rehab center were city folk, and they didn’t realize that the woods in Missouri were much safer than most city streets.
Gerard spoke again. “Poor kid was lost and was looking for our building. He wasn’t paying attention.”
“Out of curiosity, am I the only person in Jolly Mill who didn’t know about the inheritance until Lynley told me a few minutes ago?”
“Probably, but that’s not surprising.” The noise in the background suddenly disappeared, and a door shut. Gerard had stepped outside. “Here in our town, most folks still see honor in police authority, so gossiping to you would be kind of like gossiping to a preacher. They’d be ashamed. But sharing tantalizing information with the folks here at the center just means they’re being accepted by some of the townsfolk. Kind of encouraging, actually.”
“So you’re saying everyone up at the center knew about Kirstie’s supposed inheritance.”
“I know some of them do, some of those who’ve been around longer, but they also know that her money was given to us to help them, and she’s treated like a queen around here. That’s one reason I don’t think we need to worry about our people.”
“Unless some of them believe she still has money. Before you come down, would you have your staff start asking the residents if any of them saw someone outside Kirstie’s house earlier this morning?”
“You don’t want to keep this thing quiet, then.”
“At first I thought it would be a good idea, but something I said to Lynley got me