“Your mother doesn’t defend you? Her kid doesn’t come first?” Her voice rose with disbelief and a lifetime of being raised in a “normal” paradigm.
“Malcolm comes first, and for him, his son and daughter come first.”
“Ah, yes,” she said. “Cinderfella.”
“Not funny anymore,” he shot back.
“Why are you mad at me?” she asked.
“Because you’re taking the wrong side.”
“I’m not taking any side.” She whipped her feet down and leaned forward to make her point. “Except the dog’s. Remember? The dogs come first. Why did Savannah tell your mother Stella is dead? I didn’t ask because I thought you might have a legitimate reason for not mentioning Stella other than—”
“They don’t need to know.”
“That is not legitimate, Josh. Why wouldn’t you tell them why we’re doing this, or the truth about Gideon and Savannah? Maybe they’d help you.”
“I don’t share things with them,” he said. “Experience tells me that anything they know about me can be ammunition used against me at a later date. Unwittingly, maybe, but still. Information is ammunition, and I won’t give them any.”
“Except they need to know Savannah is lying about Stella being dead.”
“To what end? They already think she’s a thief. Why add pathological liar?”
“And cheater,” Darcy interjected.
“Maybe she is all those things, but…” He blew out a breath and ran his hand through his hair, pulling a little with frustration and anger at the world. And himself. “Two months ago, I would have fought to the death to defend her from these accusations.”
“You fought a little today,” she murmured.
He gave her a sideways look. “I was about to propose to her, Darcy. I loved her. Accepting all this about her makes me feel and look like the idiot I am.”
“You’re not an idiot,” she said softly. “Love is blind, remember?”
“And so is Stella.” He finally got hold of her hand. “And we have to do everything we can to give her a fighting chance.”
“Yes,” she agreed, tenderly stroking his knuckles with the same touch she’d use to calm Stella or Kookie. “So what do we do next?”
He felt himself fall into her soft voice and gentle question, the weight of the visit already lifting. “I’m going to try and find out who her vet is, and if he or she is open on Saturday. Getting the dog’s records shouldn’t take a freaking court order. I know her neighbor who has a dog and recommended the vet. Hopefully, she’s home today, because I don’t have her phone number.”
Darcy nodded, still holding his hand. “What if Savannah isn’t with Gideon? What if she’s in trouble, missing in action, and telling people Stella is dead because she isn’t ever planning to come back here to live? Maybe she’s setting up shop far away from these allegations and a close-knit community who blackballed her.”
Or maybe she’s getting boned by a Bucking.
“And maybe she isn’t ever going to come back for Stella,” Darcy continued. “And that would make Stella—”
“Mine.” He tapped the brakes and steered into the exit lane for Savannah’s apartment.
“Right. If she never comes back, you qualify as her owner now, right? I mean, dog ownership isn’t legal, it’s just that my dad wants to do the right thing, because that’s pretty much his motto in life.”
He smiled. “My dad, too. So, do you think Dr. Walker would accept that argument and let me sign the papers if we tell her we have reason to believe Savannah won’t ever be back?”
“Even better, what if that attorney signs a paper saying he ‘gives’ the dog to you?” Darcy suggested.
He frowned. “I don’t know about that.”
“Think of it as bending the rules, not breaking them, Josh.”
He played the scenario through in his head, starting with… “That means going to that party tonight.”
“How bad can it be?”
He grunted, but she threaded her fingers through his and leaned over. “I’ll be your date.”
Stopping at a light, he threw her a look, hoping he didn’t give away how much he liked that idea.
“For Stella,” she added. “We’d be doing it for our sweet Stella.”
He held her gaze for a few seconds, until the light changed and he turned into the apartment complex he hadn’t visited for more than a month. He waited for a wave of hurt to hit, but none came. All he felt was happy to have Darcy next to him.
“Let’s see how this goes. We need the name of the vet. And who knows? Maybe Savannah’s really hiding out in her apartment, and then we can get her signature, hit the road, and make your family’s Sunday night dinner.”
“You really want to go to that, don’t you?”
“A helluva lot more than a black-tie party that celebrates the anniversary of the unhappiest day of my life.”
“Yeah, I see your point. Well, maybe we can do both, then spend all of next week comparing families.”
“Trust me, you’ll win that comparison.”
* * *
Josh was quiet as they headed to the double glass doors that led into the lobby of the high-end building, and Darcy couldn’t really blame him. It couldn’t be easy learning that Savannah was not only a cheater, but a liar and a thief.
They stepped inside after Josh entered a code, and he immediately broke into a wide smile at the older man behind a security desk. “Man, am I glad to see you, T-man,” he said.
“Mr. Ranier.” A soft flush of color rose, and narrow shoulders dropped. “Oh Lord. Janet was right. I shouldn’t have sold it.”
Josh frowned, looking uncertain.
“But I can get you the cash,” the guard, whose name badge read Terrance Phillips, said. “By Monday when the bank opens? Janet wouldn’t let me spend a dime of that money. She said you might want to give it to some…” He paused and looked at Darcy. “Other lady.”
He gave the guy a ring? The one he’d intended to give Savannah? Darcy tried to process that as Josh went closer to the desk and extended a hand. “A deal is a deal. I don’t want the ring or the money.”
The other man looked visibly relieved as he shook Josh’s hand. “You’re a good man, Mr. Ranier.” He glanced at Darcy. “And…”
“Terry, this is my friend Darcy. We were hoping to talk to Savannah.”
“She’s not here,” he said. “Haven’t seen hide nor hair of Ms. Mayfield for a few days, and last I did, she said I should save up her mail and packages for a long time and tell anyone looking for her that she is not in the country.”
He glanced at Darcy, who shrugged, not at all surprised at this news. “Plan B?” she suggested.
“Any chance you could call Emily Goodwell in 6F?” he asked Terry. “I need to ask her a question.”
But he was already shaking his head, and more disappointment kicked at Darcy. “Ms. Goodwell’s gone home to see her parents in Connecticut this weekend, and I don’t have her cell number, sir.”
What could they do now? Give up? Call every vet in town? Cut a deal with the lawyer? She already sensed Josh didn’t like that idea, since he’d apparently never met a rule he couldn’t follow.
“Terry.” He leaned over the desk. “I have a key. What are the chances you’d let me go into Savannah’s apartment?”
Unless it was for Stella…then rules could be damned. A zing of attraction ricocheted through Darcy for that.
Terry lifted his brow. “Mr. Ranier. You know I can’t do that.”
“You can come with us, Terry. I’m trying to find the name of her vet. I’m watching her dog while she’s gone.”
His whole expression dropped. “That sweet dog who went blind?” he said, genuine sadness in his voice.
At least she hadn’t told this guy that Stella was dead.
“Which is why I need to get into her apartment.”
Terry shook his head. “Mr. Ranier, I know I took that ring and I’m grateful for the gif
t, but I can’t let you go into the apartment. It’s our policy, and my job would be on the line.”
Josh’s shoulders sank a little, but Darcy stepped forward, sensing Terry had a soft spot she was about to exploit the hell out of. “We want to help Stella regain her sight,” she said. “My father is a vet, and he can get her into a special research program, so she could see again.”
Terry stared at her, the first crack in his armor visible by the expression of sympathy and hope. “Really?”
Darcy reached into her bag and pulled out her phone, tapping to get the last picture. “See? Here she is this morning at my family’s canine facility. We can help her, Terry. But we need to know the name of her current vet so we can get her medical records. That’s all we want, honestly.”
Terry looked at the picture, then up to Darcy and Josh. “I’ve never seen a dog change so much. She used to run to me for treats, then, suddenly—”
“It’s curable,” Josh said, holding the other man’s gaze. “Please help us.”
“Help Stella,” Darcy added.
The man let out the longest, most pained sigh, then reached under the desk. “God, I love dogs.”
Darcy and Josh shared a look as Terry brought out a small Guard Will Return Momentarily sign and then gestured them to the elevator.
On the way there, Josh took her hand, brought it to his lips, and kissed her knuckles. She could read his expression, too. Something like, What’s a little invasion of privacy if it’s for the dog?
She didn’t know what thrilled her more—his lips on her knuckles or the fact that they’d silently communicated, a feat only possible with Ella and, long ago, her mother. But it had happened, and she couldn’t deny that it made her feel…things.
She tamped those things down in the elevator, and then Terry led the way into a wide, carpeted hallway with soft lighting and expensive finishes. The building wasn’t Darcy’s style, that was for sure, but she could understand the appeal.
The security guard discreetly stepped aside and let Josh use a key to open the door to the first unit they reached. Inside, Darcy blinked into a dimly lit living room, taking in all that she saw. A dozen different descriptions bounced in her brain, but not one of them was neat. Spacious. Gloomy. Trendy. Feminine.
But also cluttered, disorganized, messy, and crowded.
“Whoa.” Josh stood stone-still in the middle of the room, and something told Darcy he was thinking the same thing. “What happened here?”
The coffee table was covered in drawers from the kitchen, each emptied of cooking utensils and silverware that were grouped in distinct piles. A floor-to-ceiling bookshelf had been almost completely emptied, with stacks of books on the floor and knickknacks piled on top of one another. Glancing into the kitchen, she could see that the contents of most of the cabinets were spread out on the counters—wine glasses, plates, pots, and pans.
It was a mess, but almost a systematic mess.
“Maybe she started packing to move out,” Darcy suggested.
But Josh shook his head. “This kind of chaos would make her crazy,” he said. “She’d never leave it this way.”
He turned and headed down the hall, and Darcy followed, but slowed when he continued toward the double doors of a master bedroom. She didn’t want to go in there, in that room where he surely had memories. It would feel invasive.
Instead, she gestured toward another, smaller room, set up as an office. “Can I?” she asked Terry. “Maybe she has the vet records in there.”
He nodded and went with her as she stepped inside to find more of the same organized chaos. It was like every item had been taken out of its place and laid out on open surfaces.
She stepped to a large white desk, noticing that all the cubbies in the hutch above it were empty, but the desktop was filled with papers, pens, files, notebooks, even empty picture frames.
Savannah was planning to pack and move, Darcy decided. Taking inventory of her life, perhaps. Darcy had just done that with her things at home—laid out all the clothes and belongings to decide what to pack.
“Is Mr. Ranier okay?” Terry’s question pulled her from her thoughts, making her turn.
“I think so,” she said. “You want to check on him?”
“I mean since he broke up with Ms. Mayfield.”
She exhaled, not entirely sure how to answer that. “I only recently met him,” she said. “I don’t know how different he is. She hurt him, that’s for sure.”
He nodded. “Damn shame, since he’s a nice guy.”
“Was she…nice?” Because based on what she’d heard so far, Darcy was starting to doubt Josh’s ability to judge character.
“Very,” he said. “Always kind. But…”
Darcy waited, silent.
“I hear things.”
“I bet you do.”
“These are small towns around the lake,” he said. “People talk. I think she’s in some trouble.”
“Trouble, as in someone is trying to harm her, or has already? Or trouble, as in she’s mismanaged her finances and needs a bankruptcy lawyer? Because I don’t need to know about the latter.”
“It’s…that,” he said. “About her money and her clients.”
She shook her head and turned, uncomfortable gossiping with the guard about the accusations against Savannah. It was bad enough they were poking around the woman’s apartment.
She scanned the desk, a single bookshelf, and glanced at a daybed along the wall, when the word Stella written neatly on a manila file folder tab caught her eye. “Oh, look!” Loath to touch anything she shouldn’t in another person’s home, Darcy pointed. “Can we open that?”
Terry angled his head, giving silent consent.
Josh walked in as she lifted the file and opened it, reading the first piece of paper. “It’s a receipt from her vet!” she exclaimed, turning it to show him. “Name and phone number. Bingo!”
“Fantastic.” He came next to her to look closer.
“You can’t take it,” Terry said.
“Pictures?” Darcy asked.
Terry grunted softly, but his eyes shuttered closed. “I’ll stand in the living room.”
They didn’t even bother to read the papers, but snapped a photo of each page, then Josh closed the file and returned it to the pile with a deep sigh.
“You okay?” she asked.
He shook his head. “It’s like I didn’t even know her.”
She gave his arm a sympathetic squeeze before they stepped back into the hall to find Terry.
“That’s all we need,” Josh said, putting a hand on the guard’s shoulder. “I’ll bring Stella here to see you when she’s cured.”
Terry nodded. “Let me give you my cell phone so you can keep me updated.”
A few minutes later, they headed back downstairs, and while the two men exchanged numbers, Darcy clicked through the pictures on her phone to make sure they had all the information they needed to reach the vet, but the files were so thorough, she realized they wouldn’t have to.
One of the papers noted the date that Stella had been diagnosed with SARDS. Darcy did some quick math. Five and a half weeks ago.
They had very few days to get Stella into this program. By the end of the coming week, it would be too late.
That knowledge assuaged all her guilt for plowing into another woman’s apartment and taking pictures of things on her desk. If Stella’s sight could be saved, it would be worth it.
Chapter Fourteen
If he hadn’t needed Savannah’s lawyer’s help in getting permission to treat Stella, Josh and Darcy would have been halfway back to Bitter Bark by now. Sadly, they weren’t.
Going to his parents’ anniversary party was the last thing on earth Josh wanted to do. The very last. Dressed in a monkey suit of a tux he hadn’t worn since the last shindig he was forced to attend, he paced the sitting room connected to his bedroom while he waited for Darcy.
Mom had put her in a room down the hall, while he’d taken hi
s old suite, a suggestion he kind of wished he hadn’t so gallantly made so Darcy would feel comfortable.
Then she walked in.
And he could file that gallant suggestion under Stupid Josh Moves.
He stared at her for five solid seconds, not trusting his voice or his brain to deliver the right words, because there were none.
“Do you think I should thank Savannah?” she asked.
He blinked at her. He should thank Savannah—for leaving and leading him to the woman in front of him. Darcy shone with a light that came from inside, and when she took a step, sparks seemed to fly from her whole being. Okay, there were a lot of sparkles on that deep-blue gown, but…
“Thank her for what?” His voice came out huskier than intended.
“The gowns. Your mother said they were left here a while ago, so I’m guessing that was courtesy of your ex, her stylist.” She held her arms out and twirled, blinding him with all the blue light and silver sparks.
No, not blinding him. He’d been blind before, but the woman in front of him was vivid and beautiful. He could see everything about her, from her heart for doing the right thing, to a sly playfulness he hadn’t even realized he wanted so much in a woman.
“She must be good at her job.” She waved her hands down the length of the dress, which was little more than a strapless column that clung to every curve he so badly wanted to touch. “I couldn’t decide which one I loved more, but I picked this.”
“It’s…you…I’m…” He laughed.
“Cute,” she finished for him, coming closer to reach up and tug the edges of his bow tie. “Good look for you, Hot Landlord.”
He smiled down at her. “Are you going to call me that tonight?”
“Secretly. And what are you going to call me?”
“Other than beautiful?”
A soft flush rose to her cheeks, and her shimmery lids shuttered to acknowledge the compliment. “I meant, what’s my title? Your friend? Your tenant? Your partner in crime? People will assume…other things.”
“I don’t care what these people assume,” he said. “I hope we’re not there long enough to worry about it. I want to corner that lawyer, get this paper I drafted and printed signed—” he tapped his jacket pocket “—and leave.”