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Strangely, for the first time since Roddy had been taken, she felt like she could actually sleep. Stripping down, she crawled under the covers. Nodding off almost immediately, she dreamed of sexy hazel eyes.
An hour later, her phone rang, waking her. She groaned, then reached over to pick it up from the nightstand. Seeing it was Marla, she picked it up.
A few minutes later, frowning, she set the phone down. Marla was canceling her interview for tonight. She'd been absolutely frantic. Her mother was being admitted to the hospital. Poor Marla, she thought, frowning. Hopefully everything would be okay.
Chapter Three
Interesting, Mike thought, as he read Cassidy's text message. Marla Francis, the handler, had canceled their meeting. Cassidy seemed to think she wasn't a suspect. He didn't necessarily agree with that particular line of thinking though. He quickly responded to let her know he'd gotten the text.
Taking another sip of his fourth cup of coffee since he'd arrived, he tried to refocus his thoughts. Marla. She was definitely a suspect. Though, the more research he did, the less likely it seemed. Marla had a pretty good gig. A few days of showing the dog and she earned a few hundred bucks, plus expenses. When the dog won, and it often did, then her pay day increased significantly.
The only one who wasn't a suspect was Cassidy at this point. He'd considered that option too, of course. She had nothing to gain and everything to lose. He could still see that stricken look in her eyes when she'd explained herself.
Setting thoughts of Cassidy aside, he refocused on the suspect list. He ran a quick background check on Marla. She was squeaky clean with the exception of a moving violation when she was twenty. Not much of a shock there, though, he reasoned.
He was beginning to lean more and more toward the ex. The background check on him had yielded some interesting results. Roger Millman had been married three times by age thirty-four. He had assault and battery charges, domestic violence, an arrest for missed child support payments, and a plethora of other theft related charges. Additionally, he had an outstanding warrant for failing to appear in court. That could be really useful.
This guy was a piece of work. He'd be shocked if Cassidy knew about any of this stuff. This trash had beat up on more than one of his wives. He hoped to hell the poor kids never had to see that. He knew from his own personal experience how that could fuck someone up.
Tom Diamond was a drunk. An angry drunk. When Mike had been old enough to realize where the bruises came from on his mother's arms and face, he'd tried to goad his father into hitting him instead. That had worked with way too much success.
His uncle had finally clued into it after a few years during one of his infrequent visits. He'd beaten the crap out of his brother and forced him into rehab. When it hadn't taken, he'd convinced Mike’s mother to leave.
They'd moved to Toronto and had lived with his Uncle Rick for years while his mother had gone back to college. She'd gotten her degree as a teacher and moved them out by the time he'd reached high school. Now his mother taught English to a group of very rambunctious middle school children. She had once been too afraid to stand up for herself. Now, she took no shit from anyone.
When his uncle mentioned the possibility of Cassidy's ex getting physical with her, he knew this little trip down memory lane was on the way. His mother's was a success story if there ever was one. He could only hope that these women, Cassidy included, would fare the same.
The second wife, Monica Pierpont lived in Quebec. He'd try her first since she was on the east coast. Maybe he'd get lucky and actually be able to speak to her. Only one way to find out, he mused. Locating a phone number for Monica Pierpont with surprising ease, he dialed.
Almost an hour later, his ears still ringing, Mike finally hung up. That was a woman scorned if he'd ever heard it. She'd railed on for the longest time about the fact that he'd knocked her up, married her, beaten her while she was pregnant, then cleaned out their checking account and left.
He'd paid no child support and had no contact with his child or her since she'd signed the divorce papers. Roger Millman was a piece of trash. Stealing a dog would be well within his boundaries.
In addition to the rage, his ex-wife had also been really useful. Roger hadn't been working over the last few years. Monica had been able to share that he had worked as a landscaper for a golf course before.
No longer having a wife or show dog to support him would definitely lead a man to get a new job. With it being spring, the golf courses would be opening back up soon. He had a place to start looking now since Roger had abandoned his last known address.
Mike worked his way down the very short list, dialing each of the country clubs in the area. After the third call, he struck gold. Hidden Pines Country Club. He was passed around to a few different people but eventually he talked to one pissed off crew leader name Bert. Apparently, Roger hadn't shown up for the last two days. Hadn't called to quit, either.
He'd introduced himself in the guise that he was Rogers's buddy, so Bert wasn't too friendly. Mike acted shocked by the news. Bert basically told him to tell Roger he wouldn't be seeing his last check until he returned the work shirts.
It had been a stroke of luck, knowing Roger had just stopped showing up. It furthered his opinion that Roger was involved. On the down side, there'd be no way to find him since he was off the grid at the moment. Something would shake loose, though. It always did.
In the meantime, he would be able to grab a quick lunch and then start canvassing Cassidy's neighborhood. The area she lived in was pretty populated. It would stand to reason that someone saw something.
* * * *
By the time he had managed to canvas the neighborhood, it was almost after seven and dark. He'd learned zilch from the neighbors other than the fact that Cassidy was quiet and kept to herself. They'd all been sad to hear her dog had been stolen, though.
It was unfortunate he wouldn't be able to get a great look around the doors and windows. He suspected he wouldn't find much there anyway. The more he thought about it, the more he leaned toward Roger.
When he reached Cassidy's house, he stopped for a moment. It was a cute house. Nothing ostentatious. There was a garden in the front, or there would be when things started to bloom again. Surprisingly, he could see her here. She fit.
He shook his head. He didn't even know why he was thinking about her. She was just a client. He was looking for her giant lion dog. That was it. Resolutely, he walked up the sidewalk and rang the bell.
Cassidy answered a moment later, her eyes hopeful. Unfortunately, all he had to share were some disjointed facts and a reaffirmation of her earlier theory. “Any word?”
“I wish I had more constructive news,” he said, frowning.
