“I was hoping you could explain this.” Not allowing Travis to touch the backpack, Paterno flipped open the upper flap and upon it, drawn in what looked like charcoal, was a weird star symbol with numbers and broken lines. “You ever see this before?”
“No. I have no idea what that is.” Travis gazed hard at the odd etching. “It wasn’t there the last time I looked.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes.”
“Could your daughter have been into drugs or cults or—”
Travis banged a fist on the corner of Paterno’s desk. “Listen, detective,” he snarled, rage thundering through him, “I’ve been over this with the police in Oregon and the FBI a million times. Dani did not do drugs. She didn’t trust strangers. She didn’t run away.” The muscles in the back of his neck were so tight they ached. Suddenly he wanted to strangle this presumptuous prick of a policeman. “My daughter is the victim, you got that? The victim. Don’t twist this around, just do your damned job and find her.”
“I think every police agency in California and Oregon is doing just that.”
“Then where the hell is she? Huh? With the pervert who did that?” he asked, jabbing an angry finger at the singed backpack. “The guy who killed at least one woman and attacked Shannon Flannery? Is that who has my little girl?” His fingers coiled in frustration. “You and I both know that all of this fucking mess is somehow connected, and my
daughter is at the center of it. We also know that every second that passes, her chances of survival diminish, so, Detective Paterno, instead of asking me inane questions about cults and drugs, why don’t you go out and find my kid!”
Travis didn’t wait for a response. He slammed out the door. One fist was balled and he wanted like hell to slam it into someone’s face.
The police were running in circles.
Just like the son of a bitch who had his daughter wanted them to be. The goddamned bastard was playing games. With his kid’s life!
But Travis was focused.
Single-minded.
And lethal.
If that fucking freak show had so much as harmed one hair on his Dani’s head, the guy was a dead man. Travis would take him out. No questions asked.
“Beware of Greeks bearing gifts.” Wasn’t that the old saying? Or was it geeks bearing gifts? At this moment in time, maybe either way worked, Shannon thought. Her neighbor, portly real estate agent Alexi Demitri, the man who had sold her the new property up in the hills, proudly handed her a chubby blonde puppy. Shannon had used the time since her mother and Oliver left to call Aaron with the news about Brendan Giles. Aaron had promised to look into it, and when she’d heard a knock on her back door, she’d expected to find Aaron. Instead, Alexi had arrived.
“I just wanted to do something,” he said. “You’ve gone through so much lately.” He lifted a hand and motioned toward the space where her shed had once stood. “I heard about your sister-in-law. I’m sorry.”
“Me, too,” Shannon said, flummoxed by his gesture of good will.
“But you. You’re feeling better?”
“Marginally,” she said with a smile as she held the wiggling little mass of fur. Her feet no longer hurt and her headache had been reduced to a dull throb, though her shoulder and ribs still reminded her of the fire. She still looked like she’d wound up on the losing end of three rounds with the current heavyweight champion.
The puppy snuggled against her, and she immediately lost her heart to the soft fluff of taffy-colored fur. Khan, ever-present and jealous, looked eagerly up at the pup and whined.
“Shh,” she said. “You’re still number one.”
“When I heard that you had suffered so much bad luck,” Alexi said, “I thought I’d bring you something to cheer you up.”
A dog? Shannon thought, disbelieving. Though since she’d been hurt she’d received plants, cards and flowers, no one had come up with an animal as a get-well gift. Until now. She thought of all the dogs she had on the property, animals who needed to be trained as she recovered and decided the last thing she needed right now was this pup.
At that moment it licked the underside of her chin, melting her heart. It smelled like a puppy, of course, and was all warm and soft and cuddly. And cute as the dickens.
Maybe Alexi was right. Maybe she did need this little Lab to lift her spirits.
As if he could read her thoughts, Alexi grinned, showing off a bit of gold rimming one of his front teeth. “The pick of the litter, I tell you, and smart? This little girl is smart as a whip!” He handed her veterinary records proving that the pup had been inoculated.
Shannon skimmed the papers, then stuffed them into her pocket.
“So why didn’t you sell her?” Shannon asked, leaning against the doorjamb and feeling the heat of the day seep into her bones.