was almost noon and there were only a few other cars on the small ferry. Neither of them said anything on the short trip. They drove up to the Italian villa where Madison was staying. Madison jumped out and opened the door for Aspen. It seemed to take the dog a split second longer than necessary to jump down.
Paul got out of the car, asking, “Did the vet say Aspen has some sort of a vision problem, not just an eye infection?”
Madison’s eyes became sharper, more focused. “No, but his infection wasn’t treated early enough. He has some vision loss, but he’s okay now. Aren’t you, boy?”
The dog nuzzled Madison’s hand. Again, Paul thought there was more to the connection between them than Madison wanted to reveal.
Inside the house, Madison went right to what he assumed was the bedroom she was using. Waiting in the entry with Aspen, he stroked the dog’s smooth head and looked into his eyes. “Trouble seeing, huh?”
The dog poked at his hand with his nose. His eyes appeared a little cloudy, as if he had the beginnings of cataracts. He knew dogs could develop cataracts like humans, but Aspen seemed too young.
“Here it is,” said Madison, returning to the entry.
Paul took it from her and pulled the certificate out of the envelope. He scanned the document. It immediately raised a red flag. “Someone sold a purebred dog for twenty-five dollars?”
“I guess. Erin told me a woman couldn’t keep her dog. I assumed she just wanted to find it a good home, then I discovered this bill of sale.”
“What did Erin say exactly?”
Madison silently regarded him for a moment, seeming to weigh her words. “I’m not sure. We were in a club. The music was really loud. She just mentioned the dog. I didn’t ask a lot of questions because of the noise.”
“You didn’t discuss it later when you came back to her house and had pizza?”
“No. She knew I wanted a dog. I’ve always wanted one but Mom was allergic to them, then I married a man who didn’t want animals of any kind.” She shrugged as if her ex-husband didn’t matter, but Paul sensed this was still an open wound. Words were pouring out of her too rapidly, which made him think again that she was concealing something.
“We started to talk about the houses I had seen with the Realtor. I forgot all about the dog until I was on the way home. I figured I’d call Erin about it the next day. My first priority was to find a house where I could keep a pet.” She waved a hand at the elegant living room beyond the foyer. “The owners will return soon and I need my own place.”
It sounded true, but something about the dog situation continued to bother him. He scanned the certificate again. It looked legit but you never knew these days. A lot could be duplicated using a scanner and a computer. Counterfeiters had been so successful at replicating United States currency that the Treasury Department had created new bills just to make it more difficult.
“This says Aspen was born Rudolph Vontreben of Sunnyvale. I guess Sunnyvale is the breeder.” He looked at Madison.
She shrugged. “Maybe. I don’t really know.”
There it was again, the disturbing note in her voice. What was going on? “Don’t you want to find your friend’s killer?”
“Of course I do!” she cried, then took a deep breath. “I just don’t think the woman—”
“What makes you think it was a woman?” He wanted her to repeat what she’d told him earlier. Something wasn’t right here.
“I told you. At the club Erin mentioned a woman who couldn’t keep her dog. I assume Aspen was that dog.”
“But you don’t know for sure.”
“Well, no. I…ah—”
“It’s possible this—” he glanced at the paper again “—L. Morgan used the dog as a ploy and followed her home.”
“It’s possible,” she conceded in a voice pitched low.
“I’ll take this to Burgess and let him run down the dog’s owner.” He reminded himself this wasn’t his case. His agenda was entirely different.
“What about meeting Wyatt Holbrook?” he asked, and immediately saw the change of subject caught her off guard.
“Not until I talk to my mother,” she shot back.
“A life hangs in the balance,” he reminded her. He was betting a woman who had a soft heart for a dog was someone who would respond to an emotional plea. “He’s a lot like Erin, from what you’ve told me,” Paul said, making this up as he went. “He helps others even when the benefits to him aren’t observable. We could go over there tonight. He only lives in Palm Beach. You could see for yourself.”
“I’m busy tonight. I have to help Rob Matthews sort through Erin’s things.”
The faint note of irritation in her voice mushroomed into anger so powerful that it must have been festering since the first time he’d told her about her real father. “This man isn’t interested in me. He’s just—”
“True, Wyatt Holbrook wants to live, but he’s a generous philanthropist. He’s given millions to worthy causes.”
“You already told me about him.”
He could see he wasn’t getting anywhere. Then something from her bio hit him. “Wyatt’s setting up a special foundation to fund promising advances in science and medicine. There just isn’t enough money for scientists and it’s not likely to get better. The government has too many other priorities.”
Madison silently considered what he said. He knew she’d majored in mathematics and had earned a full scholarship to MIT. She was bound to understand how important such a foundation would become.
“Call me tomorrow. I’ll see what I can arrange. I’m not promising anything, but I’ll think about it.”
“Thanks.” As Paul left, he was half-tempted to give her a hug, but he didn’t press his luck. Okay, pard. Get your mind back where it belongs. He found Madison disturbingly attractive, but this was business. Nothing more.
CHAPTER EIGHT
How long before maggots appear on a dead body?
“DO YOU WANT any of these pictures?” Madison asked Rob.
He crossed the small bedroom where they’d been sorting through Erin’s things since late afternoon. Madison had kept a few pieces of her friend’s jewelry and was packing the rest of Erin’s clothes to drop off at Goodwill. She’d come to the lower drawer where she’d discovered a shoe box of photographs. The ones on the top were of Rob with Erin.
Rob looked across the room and looked over Madison’s shoulder. “Yeah, save ’em for me.” He almost choked on the words. An emotional second passed before he spoke again. “Those are from our trip to New Orleans. You know, before Katrina, when New Orleans was still the old New Orleans.”
“I’ll
