Drool Baby (A Dog Park Mystery) (Lia Anderson Dog Park Mysteries) Read online

  Drool Baby

  A Dog Park Mystery

  by

  C. A. Newsome

  For Anna, Pat, Angie and Rudy.

  Without you I would be in sorry shape.

  This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, places and events portrayed in this book are either products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.

  Drool Baby

  Copyright © 2012 by Carol Ann Newsome

  All rights reserved. This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission.

  Cover art by Carol Ann Newsome

  Published by Carol Ann Newsome for Kindle

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Notice

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Chapter 53

  Chapter 54

  Chapter 55

  Chapter 56

  Chapter 57

  Chapter 58

  Chapter 59

  Epilogue

  The Kibble Song

  Author's Notes

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  Prologue

  I saw Catherine again last night. It was after midnight, with the moonlight spilling down onto her garden labyrinth. I followed her up the twisting path, stepping carefully on the mosaic pavers, avoiding the gravel packed around them. Catherine was absorbed in her thoughts and did not realize I was there.

  Anticipation pounded through my blood, delicious anticipation fueled by my hatred of this vain and vapid woman. It was hard to remember to creep along as adrenaline rose up in me. Years of restraint and self discipline served in those moments of ecstatic tension as I followed, silent, silent, until she neared the pond at the center of the maze. I picked up a decorative rock and hefted it, much like a pitcher with a softball. I gently bounced it in my hand and felt its weight, its irregular shape. It was about the size of a grapefruit with a rough texture that bit into my skin.

  Catherine paused at the edge of the pond before the stepping stones that would take her to a miniature island. I stood behind her, almost close enough to touch, and still she did not sense me. When was this woman ever anything but oblivious? I took a deep breath, then stepped deliberately onto the gravel, the crunching sound overloud in the silence of the night. She stiffened and turned, starting when she saw how close I was. Good. I wanted Catherine to know me, and to know what was happening.

  "I thought you left," she said, taken aback. "I thought everyone was gone."

  "It's so wonderfully peaceful here, don't you think?"

  "Yes," she smiled thinly, "that is rather the point. But what are you still doing here? The party is over." Her eyes narrowed as she tried to figure out how to get rid of me.

  I kept my face placid, fighting the glee bouncing inside of me like an eager child. She had yet to notice the rock, veiled in darkness as we were. Seconds stretched to eternities as I considered my moment.

  I took two steps towards her, bringing myself within striking distance. "I thought we should talk."

  Catherine glanced at her little island with its lovely bench inside a mosquito netting tent full of sleeping butterflies, a party extravagance. She wanted to be on her island, not talking to me. "It's awfully late."

  "Do you think?" I smiled then, mocking.

  She looked puzzled. Then, through some intuition, she realized that I did not mean her well. He eyes widened in alarm as I brought the rock up in a two fisted roundhouse. I allowed my hatred to surge up. Ecstasy flashed through me as I swung the heavy weight and felt the impact as it smashed into her temple. She fell face-up into the pond. Her diaphanous silk caftan fluttered, softly settled on the surface, then sank. She lay still on the bottom, half in, half out of the water. The single blow seemed to have done its work. How many times had I practiced swinging a rock in anticipation of that one shattering moment?

  I was not finished, though. I pulled a battered cellphone out of my pocket. I reached into the water for her caftan, then felt through the dripping folds for her pocket. Once I placed the phone in the pocket of Catherine's caftan, I picked up her hand. Treading carefully on the stepping stones, I pulled her arm to drag her further into the water. I dropped the stone into the pond, and waited while the life bubbled out of her. I smoothed the mulch at the edge of the pond and then I left as soundlessly as I had come. My heart was still pounding, pounding, pounding out my exultation as water dripped from my hand, forming a faint trail in the gravel as I retreated up the mosaic path. A trail that evaporated as if I had never been there.

  My heart was still thudding when I woke up. I have had this dream a dozen times, and my heart always feels like it will burst when I wake. I lay back and felt it slowly subside.

  I never knew it could be like this. I have never felt so alive as I did when I spun with that rock and felt it connect with Catherine's skull. I have killed before, but I always used means that distanced me from the person I killed. Poisons that took effect when I was not there, accidents staged to happen when I was safely alibied, a bullet delivered with no preamble and designed to look like suicide. Clean, neat deaths masquerading as something else.

  This was the first time I faced someone, saw that glimpse of mortality in her eyes and truly felt myself the direct instrument of her death. The first time I felt the power ringing through my body. My sly satisfactions of the past were nothing compared to the primal joy of killing with my bare hands.

  And I can't wait to do it again.

  Chapter 1

  Thursday, August 16

  Anxiety gripped Lia as she felt the muzzle of the derringer press into her temple, a circle of terror that bore into her brain, leaving her unable to think. Bailey's voice echoed in her head. Think loving thoughts, Lia. Tears fell as she clutched Honey's silky fur reflexively.

  "Remember your exercises. If you can't breathe in, breathe out and you'll automatically breathe in. Deep breaths, take your time. The gun doesn't exist, it's just a memory. Open your eyes and look around you. It's just you and me and the dogs. Feel the bark of the log you're sitting on. Feel Honey's fur. Watch the light through the trees. It's a beautiful
morning and you're safe here today."

  Lia dutifully pushed her breath out, then inhaled deeply. Slowly her muscles relaxed and the clenching fear abated. When she was calm, she looked at Asia, sitting next to her. Asia was an anomaly with intricately coifed hair, gold jewelry and a sapphire pantsuit that vibrated against her mocha skin. Lia's own paint-smeared shorts and faded tee were more the norm for the park, but she still felt like a bag lady next to Asia. "Wow, that was intense," Lia said.

  Asia smiled. "You're learning. You came through this much more quickly than last time."

  "I'll admit, I didn't want to do this, but I think it's helping."

  "Acute stress disorder is tough to handle. Nobody likes reliving those memories. But you will have the memories, whether you treat it or not. We can take the teeth out of them so they won't continue to incapacitate you. We don't want this to turn into PTSD."

  Lia looked around the clearing with the creek bubbling through it. "This used to be my favorite spot. I walked Honey and Chewy down that creek practically every day. Then I'd sit here and listen to the birds and think. Do you suppose I'll ever get to where I can enjoy it again?"

  "It takes time, and every case is different. But, yes, I think it's possible. Exposure Treatment has proven very effective in cases like this.

  "We've done enough for one day. I know this log is a particularly charged spot for you, since Bailey tried to shoot you here. Why don't we stroll around a bit and get out of the 'hot seat' so to speak?"

  Lia stood up, stretched, then bent over to ruffle the ears of her patient Golden Retriever. Honey looked at her with chocolatey eyes and lolled her tongue. Lia laughed. Chewy had been reconnoitering; he returned now to head-butt her leg, looking for attention. "Hey, Little Man, I didn't forget you." She took his face in both hands and vibrated them the way he liked.

  Asia picked up the towel she'd been sitting on and folded it over her arm. "I can tell they're a comfort to you. You're lucky to have them."

  "Yes, I am."

  Lia Anderson was a pretty, slender woman of about thirty with streaky chestnut hair below her shoulders and jade eyes framed by exotic cheekbones. She was of medium height and had a light, uneven tan from the mornings she spent at the Mount Airy Dog Park and hiking the surrounding forest.

  They climbed up the incline, watching as Chewy pawed and snorted through last year's leaves. "Don't you worry about what he's getting into?" Asia asked.

  "I don't worry until one of them lays their neck on the ground and starts rubbing."

  "Why is that?"

  "They're either rolling in poop or something dead."

  "Eww." Asia cringed and fanned her long ruby nails, then took a moment to regain her professional demeanor. "We have a few minutes before our session is up," she said. "Is there anything else you'd like to talk about?"

  "I'm probably going to sound stupid."

  "Try me."

  "I'm seeing this great guy, and part of me is waiting for the shoe to drop."

  "Tell me about the shoe. When you're waiting for a shoe to drop, it means you've already heard one fall. So what was the first shoe?"

  Lia pondered. "I guess it was Luthor. Not what happened to him, though that was bad enough. More about me choosing Luthor in the first place. I started dating him, let myself get sucked in and it turns out he's not only spoiled and demanding, he was also cheating on me and lying to me.

  "So here's Peter, and I think he's really great, but can I trust myself? My judgement is obviously whacked. And then there was the investigation and he knew things about Luthor that he didn't tell me. So I freaked like he was lying the way Luthor lied. But it wasn't the same thing at all because this was about being a cop, not about pulling one over on me. And then I think, at one time I thought Luthor was great, too, so what does that say about me? Am I making any sense?"

  Asia laughed. "That's a lot to process in ten minutes, but let's do what we can. Think back to when you first met Luthor. What was your first impression, and be honest. Did you think he was great as in good, kind and honest, or was it something else?"

  Lia took a moment to consider. "He was interesting and funny. And hot looking."

  "If someone told you he was running for president, would you have voted for him?"

  "Luthor? . . . Shit, now I really feel stupid."

  "Why is that?"

  "I never really thought about it, but Luthor wasn't the kind of guy you rely on for something important."

  "Do you truly feel the same way with Peter as you did with Luthor?"

  " . . . No-o-o," she breathed out slowly.

  "How is it different?"

  "Peter's so easy. He's not 'on' all the time. And he does what he says he's going to do."

  "Do you feel energized or drained when you've been with Peter?"

  "I'm pretty up."

  "And Luthor?"

  "Luthor could be tiring."

  "I think your judgment is fine. I think the problem is in the female notion that all relationships are supposed to lead to the same place. Let me ask you this. How do you feel about getting married?"

  Lia sputtered, "What?"

  "Thought so."

  "Huh?"

  "You want me to spell it out for you?"

  "Please do."

  "You're not afraid of repeating your relationship with Luthor. You're afraid of not repeating it. Peter scares you because he represents that white picket fence you don't want."

  "Wait a minute."

  Asia looked at her with eyebrows raised, a teasing salute that dared Lia to protest. "Yes?"

  "Are you telling me you think I'm afraid of marriage?"

  "I think you're afraid of your own expectations about marriage, and it has been safer for you to choose men who weren't marriage material."

  "Peter and I haven't said a thing about marriage. It's much too soon," she defended.

  "Peter has nothing to do with your expectations, but your expectations have everything to do with your feelings about the men in your life. I believe we're back at the parking lot and our time is up. Same time next week?"

  "You dump that on me and then leave?" Lia accused.

  "It'll give you something to think about until we meet next week."

  "Thanks a lot." Lia bent down and leashed Honey and Chewy.

  Asia's little Kia drove out of the lot. A blue Blazer pulled in. She watched as a tall, lean man got out with a medium sized black dog. He had dark brown hair that flopped on his forehead, overdue for a haircut. It framed a face with nice bones and a touch of boyishness. She couldn't see his eyes, but she knew they were a deep blue and drooped a little on the outer corners. Sweet, with a whisper of sadness. She appreciated his legs as he approached. His elegantly curved mouth quirked up on one side when he saw her.

  "Hey, Babe," Peter said, handing her a cup of coffee. He leaned over to kiss her.

  "Babe is a pig."

  "That makes us a pair, then," he said agreeably.

  She sniffed the coffee. "Mmm. Hazelnut. You're learning Kentucky Boy."

  "I is a smart lad."

  They turned to walk up the curving drive to the dog park. "What brings a smart Kentucky lad up here today?"

  "I thought you might like someone to hold your hand after your session."

  "Damn. And here I am with full hands." She gestured with leashes in one hand and coffee in the other.

  "I can wait. How did your session go?"

  "A bit nerve wracking, but good. I don't like the Exposure Therapy, but I think it's going to help get rid of my dreams."

  "Good." They passed through the picnic pavilion that separated the two halves of the dog park. Peter opened the gate to the entry corral and held it while Lia walked Honey and Chewy in. He closed the gate and they unclipped the leads from all three dogs while a pair of Beagles set up a hullabaloo on the other side of the inner gate. "Luke, Henry, hush up," Lia said. She opened the inner gate and Honey, Chewy and Viola shot past the Beagles. They capered around the nearest tree with their
noses up in the air and their tails wagging.

  "Squirrel," Lia said.

  "Must be," Peter agreed.

  He took her hand. She liked that simple act of affection. She liked being able to be with someone without saying much at all. She liked it and yet she was just a little nervous. They were so different, and she was still getting to know him. He liked country music, she liked New Age world rhythms. He grew up in the Kentucky hills and she was a city girl. He was a cop and she was an artist. He was a man of few words and she was used to intellectual, verbal types. Get out of your own way, she told herself. You're holding hands with a nice, considerate, hot guy who happens to like you. Just enjoy.

  They found a picnic table and climbed up on the top. They sat, watching the dogs harass the squirrel, who was running around the tree trunk just out of reach. Or maybe it was the squirrel taunting the dogs. Lia didn't know.

  "How did you know I needed coffee?" she asked.

  "Wasn't hard." He shrugged. "You said you and Asia were going down in the gully first thing this morning. I didn't think you'd want to be carrying coffee down that path."

  "What about you?"

  "I drank a Coke on the way over."

  "That stuff is bad for you."

  "So you keep saying. Tell you what. You quit nagging me about my Cokes, and I'll try some of those gummy things that look like rubber bands."

  "I don't nag."

  "Sure you do," he said pleasantly.

  "Sorry. I'll stop. I won't push you to try anything weird anymore, either."

  "Oh, I don't know, that's kind of an adventure. What do you call those gummy things, anyway?"

  "Kelp noodles. You really want to try them?"

  "I live for danger," he intoned with a straight face.

  She nudged him with her elbow.

  "Children, children," a heavy-set woman of medium height admonished.

  "Hey, Anna," Lia said.

  Anna Lawrence was a middle age woman with a square face and thin lips. She had intense, intelligent eyes. Dark eyebrows contrasted with hair that had paled to gold with age and waved around her no-nonsense face. She was accompanied by a black and tan Tibetan Mastiff named CarGo. CarGo looked at the trio harassing the squirrel and whuffed softly but stayed at her side.