Page 71 of You'll Be Sorry

Raquel couldn’t say that turning down the long, snaking driveway to her “home” was some kind of magic pick-me-up. Theo, on the other hand. Pulling up to the sight of him standing out front, tossing a ball for the pale, stocky dog that wasn’t their dog, the sleeves of his blue flannel shirt rolled up to his elbows despite the fading light andbitter chill. He could be in a sporting goods commercial, advertising all things manly man. But mostly, he was hers, and the broad grin that split his face upon seeing her…

She rolled to a stop, Detective Adams pulling in behind her. She spotted the other two vehicles from earlier still parked on the other side. So the bone experts remained hard at work. Given the dark pewter hue of the sky and the current forecast for the first nor’easter of the season, they were probably feeling the pressure to finish up. It certainly looked like it was going to snow sooner versus later.

She felt jittery and anxious. Too much was happening too fast. That the weather was also turning against her only increased her apprehension.

Briefly, she eyed her canvas shoulder bag. Now would be the time to discreetly tuck the old diary in the glove compartment so when Adams asked to see it again…Then again, given how rapidly the centuries-old volume was deteriorating, she wasn’t sure it would survive the subterfuge.

She surrendered to the inevitable, grabbing her tote and climbing out of the Porsche. The canine opportunist made a beeline straight to her, tongue lolling out, tail wagging excitedly. Should she feel this gratified by a stray mutt’s enthusiastic greeting? Because honestly, she could already feel her lips spreading into a reluctant smile.

The dog suddenly drew up short. Cocked his head to the side. Abruptly sat back on his haunches. Ah, Mr. Man had spied Adams exiting his vehicle and was now eyeing the new arrival with concern.

For his part, Adams appeared slightly shell-shocked. “I’ll be damned,” the man muttered. “She wasn’t lying.” He turned toward Raquel. “That pup could be the Dixons’ dog’s twin.”

“Probably evil twin. But yes. Uncanny, isn’t it?”

Theo had crossed to meet them. He gave Raquel a subtly questioning glance, while extending a hand toward Adams in greeting.The two men shook as Raquel made the introductions. The dog didn’t move a muscle. Remained sitting, watching, waiting.

Adams finally approached on his own, holding out fingers for inspection. A few sniffs later, the regal canine rose to standing, pushing his square head closer for a rub. Adams obliged, still wearing a curious expression. He leaned down, briefly touching his forehead against the dog’s own. In response, Mr. Man rested his head upon Adams’s shoulder, as he had done with Raquel the other night.

Their stray had a thing for strays, Raquel thought, watching the exchange. Maybe Mr. Man had been a comfort dog once upon a time. Now the pup scooted slightly back, sniffed at Adams’s pantleg, then gazed at the detective inquiringly. In response, the detective lifted the cuff to reveal a prosthetic fitted into his black leather shoe. Mr. Man replied with a couple of quick tail wags, as if he’d suspected as much.

Theo gave Raquel a second look. “What the hell?” he murmured under his breath.

She shrugged. “I stopped understanding anything about two days ago. Why start now?”

She led the way into the house, falling back on well-versed rituals to calm her own racing pulse.

Snapping on lights to ward off the now rapidly darkening night sky. Brewing coffee for the men, tea for herself, then refilling the water bowl for the canine opportunist. Adams seemed content to roam the vaulted living space, gaze bouncing from the massive fireplace, to the gigantic picture windows, to the crudely patched floorboards. He still wore a slightly dazed expression, though from time to time he’d nod to himself, as if working something out.

The dog and Theo trailed behind companionably, neither of them interrupting the silence.

Raquel threw together a plate of cheese and crackers, added an assortment of baked goods from their neighbors, and placed it onthe center coffee table. The dog took that as an invitation, the platter being conveniently located at snout level.

“Don’t even think about it,” she informed him.

An attempt at charmingly wagging his tail…

“Still a hard no.”

The master manipulator turned to Theo, who they both knew was the softer target. Sure enough, Theo picked up a piece of cheese and obligingly tossed half to the dog without giving it a second thought. The mutt had the good sense not to gloat, but Raquel could feel his smugness from the other side of the sofa.

“What do you think?” Theo asked the detective at last.

Adams was slowly turning in a circle, as if still trying to take in everything all at once. “It…it feels both surreal and déjà vu. I’ve spent years studying photographs of this room. I recognize key elements—the mantel, the stairs, the angled windows. But at the same time…there should be partially filled glasses here and here. A recently started jigsaw puzzle there. Not to mention a roughhewn pine table in the dining area holding a half-built Erector set. Oh, and behind the table, against the wall, an antique chest of drawers—”

“A commode,” Raquel interjected softly. “Turn of the nineteenth century. I saw the piece in the photos as well, but could never track it down.”

“A commode?” Theo asked. “Isn’t that like a…toilet?”

“Commode furniture,” Adams corrected. “From the French word commode, meaning convenient. Whereas the British word for commode signifies a chair on wheels, such as for topping a chamber pot, hence your confusion.”

Raquel eyed the investigator with renewed interest. He shrugged. “I have a thing for antiques. Or really, anything old. Probably one of the reasons the cold case unit appealed to me.” He tapped his lower leg prosthetic. “Among others.”

“Do you have an area of specialty?”

“Colonial America. Which makes sense, given we’re surrounded by it.”

“You must know about hand-dug wells,” Theo prodded.