garage careful to not hit the dog. The dog!! Where is he? She ran into the house, not noticing that the door she usually kept locked was open.
“Here, boy. Where are you?”
She heard a weak bark down the hall toward her bedroom. Running in that direction, she began to notice that furniture was turned over, pillows were ripped and obviously someone had been in that didn’t belong. She followed the weak moaning sounds to the bathroom and found the dog on his side with what looked like a knife wound.
She quickly knelt beside him and cried, “Oh, I wish you could talk and tell me what happened here. I need to get you to the emergency animal hospital.”
Hannah first called 9-1-1 and explained that she had a break and entering and a dog wounded. The police remembered working with her and liked her so they rushed over.
Sgt. Arnold Belcher gave a careful inspection of the entire house along with a rookie, William Brooks, that he was training. William gave a shout of discovery. “Here is a piece of cloth that might have been part of a pant leg, and it has blood on it.”
Arnold had an evidence bag and placed the material carefully in the bag. “Good work. Let’s hope there’s enough here for a DNA. Hannah, have you had threats, or do you have a case involving someone who is angry enough to do this?”
“No to both questions. Forgive me, but I must get this dog to the emergency animal hospital. He apparently did his best to protect my house.”
“I didn’t know you had a dog. When did you get him?”
“He really isn’t mine and it’s a long story. I must hurry. Are you going to have an officer stay here until I return, and will you have someone drive by tonight?”
“Sure thing. William and I will stay here and look around more. I want to know how the person got in. Okay, William?”
“Righto Sarg. I’ll be glad to stay.”
Hannah was grateful when the two men gently placed the dog on a doubled bed sheet and carefully carried him to her car. She had to leave him over night, but was relieved that he would be cared for properly.
In an hour she was back in her home and delighted to find that the two officers had found more clues. The man had broken the glass on the window in a bedroom at the back and side of the house. Apparently he had gone to check the garage for something to steal and the dog had charged him and chased him back through the house. They found a shoe print in the dog’s blood and fingerprints on a door frame. He had not had time to do much damage and he had not taken anything of value. But what was he looking for? He had a bite on a leg that would need care, and torn pants.
Hannah thanked the officers after they nailed a piece of plywood over the broken window and called in the report. They asked for a patrolman to drive by every hour or as often as possible. They left when their radio blasted out that there had been a fight and a shooting at a bar downtown.
That night at home Hannah’s phone rang four times. When she answered, there was no communication, just breathing. She finally lost patience and yelled out, “Look, if you’re too afraid to speak to me, don’t bother calling. Come into my office any time and I’ll be glad to listen to you.”
There was a sound as if someone had taken in a breath and then a raspy voice spoke, “Mind your own business and stay out of that which doesn’t concern you. If you want to live or if you want your staff to stay healthy, you’ll listen and heed.” The phone was gently cut off. She held her phone a few seconds more and then hung up.
The note on her ID screen stated, “unavailable”. Star 69 didn’t show a number either. She realized the call could have been made from a throw-away phone.
She carefully wrote, Tuesday, October 24, 8:20 pm on a pad near her phone, and the message the caller had left. She had been in the law enforcement business too long to ignore even a crank call. The note would help her remember when she received the puzzling message. What was she involved in that was none of her business? Why would it be important enough for this unsub (unknown subject) to threaten her and her staff?
Should she report it to the sheriff or wait and talk to Victoria and Herb?
Should she mention it to anyone? What did the caller mean? She decided to wait and discuss it with Victoria and Herb.
Hannah was not easily frightened and felt sure she was safe in her own home. In this case, her mistake was in being too sure of herself. She would regret it later.
The next day she had a call from the veterinarian. “Hannah, my sister’s eight year old daughter lost her dog this week when he ran into the road and was hit by a car. They’ve seen this dog you brought in. My niece has already named him, Soldier because he was wounded in battle.. Do you mind if they take him home and love him?”
“Of course not. I can’t be at home with an animal and it isn’t fair to them. I am so happy that he’ll have a good home and will be wanted and loved. Thank you. I’ll try to find time to get by and visit them and tell them how grateful I am that they’re giving him a good home. He’s a loving dog and will be a good companion for your niece. He’ll also be very protective.”
“Thank you, Hannah. That relieves my mind. I know we spoil my niece, but the dog will have a good home.”
Chapter Three
She yawned broadly and deeply as she stretched her body in every direction she could. Keeping her eyes closed against the surprising morning glare, she stretched again. Snapping her eyes open she recoiled when the clock radio blared “Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy”. Eight O’clock! Oh, I’ve overslept. Radio?! When did I get a radio?
Sliding a leg from under the covers she was disgusted to discover she was wearing jeans, socks and blouse. Worse yet, the clothes were stiff with blood. Sitting groggily on the side of the bed, and looking at the brownish snake - skin boots she had left at odd places on the floor, she observed that they were also blood stained. One boot was lying over the door sill and the other was under the window at the head of her bed.
Puzzled, she looked around the room. What happened? Where have I been? Where did this blood come from? Am I in trouble some how? Why can’t I remember what happened? Is this my blood?
The unanswered questions only made her dizzy. Dragging herself to the bathroom she hurriedly dropped her clothes in a heap, and standing in front of a full-length mirror, examined her body. No wounds. Thank God the blood isn’t mine. But whose? “Elizabeth Ann Corelli, what in the world have you been up to?” she asked herself. Where am I?
Running the water as hot as she could stand it, she showered and shampooed her hair twice. After drying she slipped into a ankle-length blue silk robe and toe less and back less cotton velour bedroom slippers with a butterfly embroidered on the top of each piece crossing the ball of the foot.
Beth sat on a stool in front of a dresser mirror while using a blow dryer to style her natural curly strawberry -blond hair. It was finally growing out from a bad cut and was now collar length. She wanted it to the top of her shoulder blades. Worried hazel - green eyes looked through long lashes. A smooth, healthy complexion required no cosmetics although a little coral lipstick and a light beige powder were often applied.
Sighing deeply she looked at the completed project and decided
