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Bruce shrugged. “Haven’t heard from him since. Could be dead, for all I know.”
Lucy flinched. “Oh gosh, I hope not.”
“Me too. He was a good kid.”
“And hot.”
“And hot,” I agreed with Lucy.
“I think that’s enough of a walk down memory lane for one night,” Matt said drily, packing up the albums.
“Me, too,” Ellen agreed. “You’ll stay for mushroom tagliatelle, you two?”
“Sure, Mom, if Zara wants to.”
“Well, I probably should make sure the pasta cooks up properly. That would be great, thanks Ellen.”
CHAPTER30
Matt
Bess paused, her head up, smelling the air, then she took off at a full run, racing for the pond at the bottom of the golf course, jumping in with a huge splash. Zara chuckled. “I think we’re going to regret letting her do that on the drive home.”
“I think you’re right.” I took her hand as we rounded the bend in the pathway by the eighteenth hole. “This should be the last lap, I’d say. It’s about to rain.” Clouds the color of a two-day-old bruise hung low in the sky, ready to send down a deluge at any moment. Although the wind was no more than a light breeze, it carried a chill that had us bundled up in coats, scarves and knitted caps. I liked this easy habit we’d developed of catching up most nights after work, taking Bess for a walk, then spending the night together, usually at my place, since Bess was more comfortable there. Neither of us talked about how close the work was to being finished on Zara’s house, or what would come next. I was starting to get a little antsy, wanting to push the relationship forward, but knowing that Zara couldn’t be pushed. We watched as Bess paddled to the edge of the pond and scrambled out, trotting into the mini forest that lined the edge of the golf course. As we reached the end of the course, I whistled for Bess. We stopped, hand in hand, waiting for her. She didn’t come. I whistled again, frowning when I couldn’t hear her coming, then walked back along the track, calling for her.
Zara followed, whistling for her as well. “Where could she have gone? What’s beyond those trees?”
“Just farms and pastures. It’s pretty well fenced, she’s never gotten out before.” I started to feel a twinge of real worry. I’d walked the whole of the eighteenth hole and couldn’t hear her at all. If she was in the trees, I would have been able to hear her moving around. I whistled again, then I heard it. A faint bark. I tilted my head, listening intently, walking toward the sound. It came again. A horrifying suspicion nudged into my mind. Another whistle, another faint, distant bark. “Shit!”
“What is it?”
“I think she’s stuck down a fox hole.” I tried to push down my rising panic.
“What does that mean?”
“If the fox is in there, it’ll likely attack her to defend itself. If we’re lucky and the hole is empty, she could still die because she won’t know how to get out again.” I pushed my fingers through my hair as the sick dread rose in me. I couldn’t think straight.
“Okay, how do we free her?” Zara’s voice was cool and calm, practical.
I tried to collect my thoughts. “I don’t know, the tunnels can go for up to ten feet before they open up to the den at the end. We’d have to dig her out.”
“Then that’s what we’ll do. We know she can’t be too far away because we can hear her. Have you got any shovels in the truck?” I shook my head frantically. “What about Gabe, or Jake? Are they nearby, can they help?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know!”
She stepped closer to me, cupped my face, looked me straight in the eye. “Matthew, it’s okay. We’ll get her out. You just need to think. Where’s Gabe?”
“He’s still probably coming back from Jacksonville, and he’d have Jake with him.”
“Okay, so, what about those houses? Anyone there that might help us?” She gestured to the line of homes that edged the golf course.
I ran my eyes over them. “I only know the Hendersons, but they’re away.”
“Well, I’m sure they won’t mind if we borrow their shovels. You go have a look, I’ll stay here and figure out where the start of the hole is.”
I nodded, sprinting across the course, jumping over the Henderson’s fence, racing to the shed and breathing a sigh of relief when I found it unlocked. I grabbed two garden shovels, threw them over the fence and climbed back over. When I got back to her, Zara was on her knees, already digging out the opening of the hole with her bare hands. The first drops of a steady, chilling rain were falling. She rose to her feet as I approached, taking the shovel I handed her. “Okay, how do we do this?”
I took stock. “The ground is so damp here near the pond that we could cause the hole to collapse and bury her alive if we weren’t careful.” I pushed that sick-making thought to the back of my mind as I heard Bess bark again. “We’ll start here.” I moved to an area about two feet back from the opening of the tunnel, pushed my shovel in and started digging carefully.
