When Summer Comes (Whiskey Creek #3)(14)
Author: Brenda Novak

For a second, he wondered if something more than fatigue could be wrong with her, but then he decided it was the odd lighting that made her look so pale.

“Okay.” He left the dishes to her but didn’t go directly to the barn. He went into her bathroom so he could wipe up the mess he’d made there last night when he was bleeding. He’d been meaning to do it all day, but he’d been too drugged with whatever sleeping pills the vet had given him while stitching him up. Then he’d met Kyle, slept while they went looking for his bike because he could hardly stand, gone with Callie himself and, when they returned, started tinkering with his engine. Now he saw that it was too late. She’d already cleaned up.

The shower curtain he’d pulled down had been washed and was neatly folded on the back of the toilet. He must’ve bent the rod, since it was gone.

Making a mental note to see about fixing what he’d broken—so he wouldn’t leave her any worse off than he’d found her—he headed out. But the place suddenly seemed too quiet. He glanced toward the kitchen to see why he couldn’t hear Callie doing dishes anymore and spotted her through the doorway.

It looked as if she was clutching the edge of the table so she wouldn’t topple over.

The creak of the floor must’ve given away his approach. She straightened and turned. “You’re still here?”

He ignored the question. “Are you okay?”

“Of course!” She pressed a hand to her stomach. “I just…ate too much and…it gave me a cramp.”

Not entirely convinced, he waited to see if she’d venture another explanation. What she’d said so far didn’t quite match what he saw in her face. But when she left it at that, he could only accept her response. He couldn’t see why she’d have any reason to lie, but he also couldn’t see how whatever pain she felt could be related to too much food. From what he could remember, she hadn’t eaten anything.

* * *

Rifle woke Callie for the second night in a row. Nerves jangled, she thought her dog was still reacting to Levi’s presence. She’d been in bed for over an hour, although it was only ten o’clock. She’d barely drifted off. Maybe Levi couldn’t sleep and had gotten up to work on his bike. There was a light in the barn if he chose to use it.

But she couldn’t imagine he felt good enough to do that. And she couldn’t understand why Levi’s moving around would bother Rifle. So far, she’d limited contact between man and dog. The way Levi watched Rifle, as though he might have to defend himself at a moment’s notice, confirmed that he was now, if he hadn’t been before, leery of such a powerful animal. She had, however, introduced them, so that if they did come into contact there wouldn’t be any problems. Once Rifle realized that she welcomed Levi’s presence, he did, too. He’d even wagged his tail and tried to lick Levi’s hand when Levi came in for dinner.

So what was going on?

Throwing off the covers, she got out of bed and dragged her pellet gun into the living room. She couldn’t completely ignore Kyle’s warnings. Levi, or anyone else, could be capable of far worse than she’d ever want to believe. He certainly wouldn’t be the first person to turn on someone who’d merely been trying to help.

But it wasn’t Levi who’d set the dog off.

Headlights bore down on the front of the house, and the engine of a truck continued to rumble as a door opened and shut. Although it was late for Godfrey to be out, Callie guessed he’d stopped by to tell her what he’d discovered on the pit bulls. She’d left him a message earlier, detailing what she’d found at the rental, so she’d been expecting him to get back to her with an update.

She almost opened the door, but then whoever approached called out to someone else. “Get your lazy ass out of the truck and come up here.”

That voice definitely didn’t belong to Godfrey….

The passenger door opened and slammed as Callie stood at the front window. Because of the glare, she couldn’t make out who’d come to visit. It wasn’t as if she had the benefit of streetlights. Out here, there was no lighting at all, except the moon and stars, and tonight the moon wasn’t more than a thin silver smile.

The first man knocked as his companion joined him on the front stoop.

Gripping the pellet gun, Callie moved to the peephole and peered out. As she’d already surmised, she had two male visitors, neither of whom she recognized. “Who is it?”

“Denny Seamans and Powell Barney,” came the answer.

“Who?” she muttered to Rifle. She’d never heard of a Denny or a Powell. “It’s a little late to be out visiting,” she called above Rifle’s resounding bark.

“We’re not out visiting.”

“Then what can I do for you?”

“You can explain why the hell that old guy Godfrey Blume showed up at the vet’s today and had my dogs taken away by animal control.”

Denny and Powell were the Gruper renters.

Lowering the pellet rifle, Callie unlocked and opened the door.

The men were very obviously bodybuilders. About five feet nine inches, they had shaved heads to go with an overabundance of muscle and looked like twins, despite the differences in their facial features and last names.

“In case Godfrey didn’t already explain,” Callie began, “your dogs attacked a man who was pushing his motorcycle past—”

The first guy exploded before she could finish. “That’s bullshit!”

Callie didn’t know if it was Denny or Powell until he gestured at his companion.

“Tell her, Powell. Tell her Sauron and Spike would never do that.”

“They wouldn’t.” Powell shook his head as if it was a foregone conclusion. “I’ve been around those dogs a whole year. They’ve never caused any problems.”

Sauron’s name suggested he’d be capable of anything. The only other place Callie had heard that name before was in The Lord of the Rings. Sauron was the villain, which she suspected Denny knew. But she didn’t comment on that. He had the right to call his dog anything he wanted. Besides, the size of these men made her nervous. So did their attitudes.

She gripped her gun tighter, in case she had to raise it. She doubted a pellet would do much against the armor of all that beefcake—especially because she’d be lucky to squeeze the trigger once before the man who didn’t get shot took the gun away—but she figured it was better than nothing. “Then you need to tell that to the authorities. You have no reason to be standing on my doorstep.”