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“She’s the one who’s in trouble now,” Butch said. “Go inside. I’ll be in when I’ve taken care of the problem.”
“You’re scaring me,” Paris whined.
“I’m scaring you? What about her? She’s probably busy planting evidence she can use to pin April Bonner’s murder on me. I won’t go to prison for a crime I didn’t commit.”
Paris’s voice dropped so low Jonah had trouble hearing her. “None of this ever would’ve happened if you’d been faithful to me from the start,” she said. But she was cowed. Jonah could see it in her body language, in the way her shoulders drooped as she went inside.
Butch waited for the door to close before walking to the edge of the porch and staring out over the piles of scrap metal and rubbish he sifted through on a daily basis.
“Come out, come out, wherever you are,” he said in a soft, singsong voice.
“Don’t do it!” Jonah yelled.
Butch looked over at the fence but he didn’t respond. He acted as if he didn’t hear a thing. Unhooking the leash from Demon’s collar, he yelled, “Go get her, boy!”
And the dog took off like a shot.
* * *
Had she heard Jonah? Francesca thought she had. That gave her hope, until the dog began to bellow, drowning out everything else and making her legs go rubbery. She remembered the animal that’d growled at her with such ferocity when she came onto the property a few days ago.
Apparently, he was no longer in the house. And she didn’t get the impression that he was being tied up.
Scanning the refuse and car hulks around her, she searched for something she could get inside or on top of, where the dog might not be able to reach her. But other than shutting herself inside Butch’s office or one of the sheds, which might or might not be locked, she couldn’t see any way to protect herself.
“Oh, God,” she whispered as she heard Demon coming closer. It was only a matter of time before he found her and tried to rip out her throat. She could hear the purpose in his feverish barking. He meant business, and he was quickly closing in on her.
“Go get her, boy!” she heard Butch yell, but she could no longer hear Jonah.
Frantic, she ducked behind an old mustard-yellow Mercedes. It was the best shelter she could find, but she knew it wouldn’t be enough. Set up on blocks, it had no windows and only two doors. The dog could easily scrabble over, under or through it.
I’m dead. Peering around the car, she strained to make out the office. Stacked car frames blocked most of her view, but she could see the corner of its roof.
Could she make it that far? Get inside? What about one of the sheds?
They seemed miles away. Unless she wanted to get cut or twist an ankle, she had to stick to the valleys created by the junk all around her. The dog, on the other hand, knew the yard much better than she did. He could slip through a hole she didn’t even know existed, or leap over a pile….
Where was Butch’s family? They must be able to hear the intense baying, must wonder what had the dog so riled up. Were they turning a deaf ear? Or assuming he’d found a skunk or some other prey? It was even possible that Butch’s in-laws were engrossed in a television program and weren’t paying attention.
Regardless of the reason, help didn’t seem to be on its way. She thought she’d heard Jonah, but she didn’t know where he was, or how he’d get in to help her even if he was at the fence. She had seconds….
Mouth so dry she couldn’t swallow, she decided to run for the office. It was her only hope. Her life depended on whether or not Butch had locked that door—
Wait! The blood thudding through her ears created a rushing sound as she hesitated. She should go around the other way. The house was almost as close as the office, and she doubted Butch would expect her to flee there. If she could reach it, she could charge in the back door and run straight through. Even if she encountered Dean or someone else, she’d have a better chance of survival than staying here.
You can do it. Drawing a deep breath, she inched around the car she’d been using for cover, trying to get a good look at the house. Although the dog seemed to be drawing close, she couldn’t see it. The contents of the yard hid Butch and Demon from view. She was afraid the Doberman might go one way while Butch went the other. The last thing she needed was to run straight into his arms….
Refusing to imagine what would come next, she screamed at herself to go, and sprinted down the widest path. That particular route was too close to the dog for comfort, but with all its obstacles the yard was a maze. She couldn’t risk getting lost. If the dog managed to corner her, she’d have no hope whatsoever.
As soon as he saw her, the pitch of the Doberman’s bark rose an octave and he cut toward her.
He was ready to move in for the kill.
When his howling reverberated against the metal all around her, she knew Demon was only a leap away.
The house, still at least twenty feet from her, was too far. She’d taken a chance and lost.
No way could she make it.
