Page 16 of Peril in Piney Woods

“That’s pretty much what she told me happened,” Griff said. His gut was in about fifty knots, and drawing in a breath was as difficult as hell. None of this he intended to let his friend know. His mind kept replaying that twirl, slice and dive maneuver.

Ernie nodded. “Same story she told me.”

Griff studied the image on the screen of the paused video that showed Jones face down on the floor in a pool of his own blood and Meg midstride as she walked away. He looked to his friend. “So, what’s the problem?”

Ernie scrubbed a hand over his jaw. “There are a couple of things. First, she kicked the gun away.”

Griff shrugged. “Smart move. The guy could have grabbed for it as she walked away. If he wasn’t dead, I mean.”

“Except,” Ernie countered, “she didn’t appear concerned about him being able to do that since she didn’t check to see if she’d completely disabled him. She didn’t nudge him, check for a pulse, nothing. She just kicked the gun away from his reach and walked away. Like she knew for sure he was done.”

Griff blinked. “Are you suggesting she didn’t care that she’d killed this guy?” What the hell was he saying here?

Ernie held up his hands again to show he wasn’t here for a fight. “I’m saying she understood that he was dead. She didn’t need to check because she recognized the fact by the amount of blood or simply because of the blow she had landed.”

Griff shook his head. “Okay, so then what’s the problem?”

“There are two problems in my opinion. One,” Ernie said, “she killed the guy—obviously in self-defense—and had no visible issue with having done so. I guess what I’m saying is if you had just killed a guy, wouldn’t you have some sort of reaction?”

“I can see how it looks that way,” Griff agreed, not wanting to sound as if he was talking against Meg. “But that doesn’t mean she didn’t have an issue. What we’re looking at could be shock.”

“Maybe,” Ernie relented, frowning as if he hadn’t considered that possibility.

“What’s the other problem?” Griff couldn’t keep the frustration out of his voice.

Ernie backed the video up just a little and let it play again, showing the part where she kicked the gun and headed toward the storeroom. “She kicked the gun without stopping to consider what to do with or about it. She just kicked it away.” He pointed to the screen. “That was instinct. The kind of thing you do without thinking because you’ve done it a bunch of times before.”

Confusion furrowed Griff’s brow and signaled a distant headache there. “You saying she’s an ex-cop?”

It was possible. She’d told Griff that she’d had a grooming service in Arizona before her father died and she’d decided on a change of venue. Maybe she had been a cop, and she just didn’t want to talk about it.

“I’m saying,” Ernie said slowly, “that she was either a cop or...or that she has killed before—” he held up his hands again before Griff could light into him “—and is familiar with the routine of doing the job.”

“What the hell, Ernie?” Griff leaned back in his chair and stared at his lifelong friend. “You’re suggesting she was not just some sort of killer—but one who had done it enough times to form habits, like kicking a weapon away. Like she was some serial killer or whatever, is that what you’re saying?”

“You’re taking me all wrong,” Ernie argued. “I’m not saying she’s a serial killer or something.” He rolled his eyes. “My money is on cop.”

Either way, worry nudged Griff at the idea. “Play it again.”

Ernie started the clip over, once more in slow motion. This time, Griff focused on Meg’s face. What he saw was focus, intent. What he did not see was fear or uncertainty.

Whether Meg was a cop or a killer, she had—without question—done this before.

The knots in his gut turned to stone.

But how was that possible? A hurricane of emotions whipped through him. He knew this woman. Had spent hours and hours with her. She loved animals. She loved life. She was one of the nicest people he’d ever met.

“One more time,” Griff said, his words barely a whisper.

He had to be missing something. This could not be what it looked like.

Chapter Five

Pampered Paws

Pine Boulevard

3:00 p.m.

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