Page 12 of Teeth To Rip & Tear

Faith Hilltop wore Poison by Dior. A perfume so strong that it made my nose tingle with every breath. When I thought back to the times I caught a trace on Joel’s uniform and never questioned it, I felt a surge of anger.

Faith drifted forward, her hand on her belly. She ignored the midnight black wolf by the door as if he were a sleeping Labrador. Her eyes were fixed on mine, her pale cheeks flushed, and her hair falling out of its bun.

“You need to stop calling him.” She snarled; her Tennessee twang thickened. “You’re not married anymore. He left you.”

I crossed my arms over my chest, thankful for the cash register between us.

It was hard to remember that Faith was a child of sixteen years as she stood in front of me, carrying Joel’s baby. The only thing I couldn’t do.

“I haven’t called Joelonce.” It took everything in me to keep my voice calm and even.

“You’re a liar, Mallory Hunt. That man has been to your house every day this week.” She snapped. “Fixing your taps, mowing your grass. Can’t you do a darned thing yourself?”

Laughter burst from my lips. “He told you that? Joel didn’t even mow the lawn when we were together.”

Faith’s lips mashed together. “I need him. I’m having his baby.”

I pumped my fist. “More power to you, but maybe you should be having this conversation with Joel. I’m not inviting that man into my home. He’s sat at the end of my driveway every day this week and every day last too.”

Faith’s expression soured, but she didn’t accuse me of lying. “He said you’re afreak. Why would he drive to your house?”

I gave her a long look. “I don’t have the first clue,” I told her. “How do you think it will go if I lodge a report for stalking?”

She saw my point immediately, and she clearly didn’t like it. The young pregnant teen had run out of steam and words to say.

I unfolded my arms, feeling my face soften. “Joel can get angry,” I warned as gently as I was able. “It doesn’t always make sense what sets him off. Maybe he just didn’t like me all that much in the end, but I spent so much time putting concealer on my bruises that I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t warn you of what that man is capable of.”

Anger flashed in her eyes. “He would never hit me.”

I looked down at her belly, trying to hide the longing I felt. “You hold onto that baby,” I told her. “You keep them safe.”

“Are you threatening me?” Faith clutched her chest.

I shook my head sadly. “Faith, you need to leave my store.”

As if it just occurred to her that she was on my property, she opened her mouth and closed it again before turning on her heel and rushing out the door.

Mitchell lifted his head and shot me a wolfy look I couldn’t understand.

Chapter Four

At the end of the day, we found Mrs Miller’s prized Maine Coon cat on my car hood.

Mitchell donated his coat and wrapped the body, putting the limp and cold feline in my trunk.

I knew Mrs Miller about as well as anyone. She was always at the library, struggling to print headshots for her cat, which she was convinced could make it big in pet food commercials if given a chance. Her Maine Coon was as large as a medium-sized dog, orange in color, with pointed tufty ears. Mrs Miller had named her Princess Merryweather.

I really didn’t relish the house call I was about to make.

Mitchell thoroughly sniffed my car, though I knew it was just for show to put me at ease. Even I could smell Joel’s laundry detergent and sweaty feet from yards away.

Mitchell followed me to the store office, and we pulled up the security system. He stood, leaning against the wall, while I fast-forwarded through the whole day's footage.

I reached the part where Faith Hilltop entered and left the store, giving my car a wide berth. In fact, no one had touched it all day. Not even to put a flyer under the wipers, like the other cars parked down the street.

The footage continued, and the cat didn’t appear until Mitchell and I entered the frame. It was as if the footage hadfrozen until we appeared before the cat was suddenly displayed on the glass for all to see.

Joel had come to the store over the years. He’d waited in the office before taking me to lunch. If he knew my WiFi password or how to access my cameras remotely, could he have done something like that?

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