Indivisible. Part 17

She climbed out, tugging two grocery bags. He could see another pair in the backseat. She walked past without acknowledging him. He grabbed the other two bags and reached the porch by the time she'd come back for them. Smelling of cold cream and mouthwash, she took the bags without allowing him to cross the threshold. He stared at the closed door a long moment before leaving.

He understood the hatred. If he had left it alone, walked away when the inquiry concluded, everything would have been different. If he had ignored what he knew-or suspected-and let the findings stand, his father would be alive. But the girl would still be dead.

He went home, parked outside his cabin, and rested his head on his forearms stretched over the steering wheel. Jay had come over early. How he timed it was a mystery. Jonah didn't ask for explanations. He climbed out and let the sound of the creek wash over him. The summer flow was still strong, carrying melted snows to basins and reservoirs.

He went inside, glanced at the animals in his closet, then found Jay planing a board in the back extension. "How did you get the dead pup out?"

"Mama went outside."

"You have her house-trained?"

"Animals don't foul their dens."

"Yeah, but she could have used the kitchen or-my whole house is her den?"

Jay grinned. "I think she might have spent time with someone before."

"You're saying I'm not her first?"

"Just a theory." Jay slid another curl of wood before the plane, releasing the scent of cut wood. "So did you prove your manhood last night?"

Jonah slid him a look. "I don't have to prove anything. It was your pretty mug that put the thoughts in her head."

Eyes smiling, Jay felt the surface of the board. "So the answer is yes."

"The answer is no. I didn't take advantage of a lonely woman to prove I'm not gay."

"Why do you say lonely?"

Jonah shrugged. "New in town. Never see her with anyone."

"How often have you seen her?"

"Not that often. But she seems ... vulnerable."

"Do you mean Liz or you?"

Jonah sighed. "It didn't feel smart."

"You know how smart feels?"

"Vague recollection."

Jay masked a smile. "You had an interested woman, but instead you spent the night with Enola."

"Enola? You named my dog?"

"She's yours?"

Jonah conceded the point. "Why Enola?" Enola?"

"It means solitary. I think maybe the coydog came to you because you're also alone."

"You're one to talk." Jay had been dating the a.s.sistant DA's cousin for four years without progress. "At least I know what I want."

"And wanting something you can't have is better than having anything else?"

Jonah sat down in the plastic-sheeted window seat. "It's not a choice."

"Sure it is."

"No." He shook his head. "I just decided which addiction to conquer."

Enola pa.s.sed the framed wall, staring at him through the wooden skeleton on her way outside once more. Jonah watched her with a sinking stomach. "I let her down last night, falling asleep before that last pup was born."

"What do you think you could have done?"

"Encouraged her to quicken it."

"Nature has her own way."

"Had she opened the sac?"

"No."

"If I'd been awake, I could have torn it open myself."

"Maybe it was already dead."

Part of him knew he was making too much of a coydog pup, but he and Enola had an unspoken pact. She had sought him out, and he'd accepted. They were bound.

His pager beeped. He checked the source and then returned the call. "Yeah, Sue."

"Child protective services took Eli."

"What? Why didn't they call me? I'd've vouched for your being at work when-"

"The x-rays showed other hairline fractures. Old ones. He's been hurt before, Jonah. How could I not know?"

Jonah rubbed his head. When Sue worked, Sam watched the baby. But when she was home, had she never heard him crying? "Was he dosed?"

"What do you mean?"

"Did Sam drug him?"

"No way. He-" Her breath rushed in his ear. "Could he?"

"You should get a tox screen."

"Jonah, the injuries could be accidental. That would be intentional."

Old injuries discovered on x-rays were rarely accidental. "If he was killing the child's pain, you wouldn't have realized Eli was hurt."

"I thought he was just quiet. Placid. Sweet tempered."

"Don't beat yourself up."

"How can you say that? I knew Sam was using. I know the flash of his temper. If he jerked Eli's arm ..."

"The important thing is to establish your ability to care for him, to create a safe environment. How likely is it that Sam will put the blame on you, or on your mother?"

"He wouldn't. Would he?"

"You need to talk to CPS. You and your mom. I'll vouch for you."

"You've only seen me at work. You don't know."

"I have some credible experience."

"That's not firsthand knowledge."

His thoughts flew ahead. "If you know that he's using or trafficking ..."

"Sam is Eli's father. Am I supposed to tell him I put his daddy in jail?"

"When the DA brings abuse charges, will he give you the same consideration?" He waited through her silence.

Finally she said, "I have to deal with this. Can you cover my shift?"

"Of course." He hung up and told Jay, "I'm going in."

"I can stay for a few hours. But I'm not sure Enola needs it."

"Her wounds might still attract a predator."

"She is a predator." Jay straightened. "Don't forget it."

Liz looked up with surprise and a little hitch when Jonah's Bronco pulled into her parking lot.

Lucy looked over her shoulder, querulous. "What does he want?"

To apologize, Liz imagined, to say he'd made a mistake, wished the night had turned out differently. Heat rose in her cheeks. "I don't know." She gripped the leash of the Rottweiler she had neutered and walked him outside to get his legs back under him. With Lucy watching from behind the curtains, she led the dog away from the window. "I didn't think the chief of police worked Sundays."

"I'm filling in."

Their trajectories intersected at the gate to the dog run. She released the offended animal into the long, chain-link tunnel. "t.i.tan is feeling less than himself this morning."

"With good reason, I guess." Jonah noted the dog's tentative motion. He turned, but she didn't see regret, only sympathy. "I want-"

"Don't apologize." Anger rescued her from tears, but she showed him neither. "It was a moment; now it's past."

He let it go, relieved, it seemed, that she'd handled it for him. What had she expected?

"I hope you didn't just come for that."

"The coydog had her litter."

Her breath caught. "How many?"

"Three live, one stillborn."

She nodded. "It could have been injured in the shooting."

"Could have."

"I thought she might have a few more days. If I'd have examined her, I would have seen the swollen milk sacs."

"You just don't stick your head in a closet with a coyote."

Or your heart on your sleeve with a man.

"Liz, I know you wanted one-"

"Two. And I want them immediately. I hope by bottle-feeding to overcome the wild tendencies and form a bond."

He frowned. "I think you'd have better luck one on one."

"I want them to have each other." She had almost said she wanted one for herself and one for her sister. But after last night she couldn't mention Lucy.

"That would only leave her one."

"In her depleted condition, that's probably all she can nourish."

"I don't know." He looked away.

"Timing is essential. When they open their eyes I want them to realize the hand that holds their bottle is mine. It's like patterning with ducklings."

"These are not harmless ducklings. Coyotes bite the throats and suffocate larger prey, crush the skulls of smaller animals. You need to consider the pets brought here as well as your own safety."

"I promise you, Chief, if I can't tame them, I will mercifully euthanize. Then you won't have the issue of brazen predators. But I think I can do this."

He sighed. "It won't help to argue, will it?"

She shook her head. "What will you do with the third?"

"That's up to mama."

Liz smiled. "Who'd have thought you have a soft spot?"