Page 12 of All of Me

Jethro’s eyes widened. I let myself out of the shed, needing to get back to Shae, and waited outside as Rawlings followed me.

“Have we got concrete evidence of a connection to Ryan?” The number used in the texts was a burner phone.

Rawlings shook his head. “We’ve cloned Jethro’s phone so Danny can see if there’s any interaction.”

“And like me, you doubt Ryan is big enough or bad enough to arrange a death in the police cells?”

“We don’t know it wasn’t a heart attack yet,” Rawlings said. “They have to do the PM and a tox screen can take days.”

“It can, but the cops might be panicking that this is on them. In their custody. It’s an incentive to get it done.”

“Let’s assume for a moment this has nothing to do with Ryan,” Rawlings said. “Would anyone else benefit from your death or you not owning the house?”

I shook my head. I had a really old will I’d made when I originally enlisted. It left everything to a charity. At the time, I was determined the death gratuity paid if I died on active service wouldn’t go to my parents. Even when I left the service, I didn’t change that.

I might now though. Not that it would ever go to them. Shae might need something behind him one day, even if that was cash and not me.

“I’m still not convinced this isn’t something to do with Ryan, but arranging a death in custody?” It was unrealistic.

“Let’s wait to see what the PM says,” Rawlings agreed. I set off to my truck, eager to get home for the first time in probably years.

Shae

I still couldn’t sleep, despite trying for another couple of hours. I hadn’t slept properly since Mom’s house burned down, really, and the fire here had brought all that up again. It didn’t help that my body was having all sorts of other problems.

I groaned out loud in the empty house. Sleeping out here, I hadn’t even dared using my hand.

Maybe a walk—some other type of exercise—would help, and I could crash for a couple of hours? It was warm, even for sevenin the morning, and I didn’t bother with anything else other than a t-shirt and old jeans. I headed for the back and the horses, because they fascinated me, but as I headed over there, I heard the dogs barking.

I’d forgotten Drake had told me Moira rescued dogs as well. Dolly wasn’t in her field—I smiled, wondering where she was—so I followed the barking, speeding up when it became relentless. I walked into an open barn and paused at the sight of a man who had lined up some food dishes and was scooping dried food into each one and muttering as he did so. He was so absorbed he hadn’t noticed me and then just started dropping the bowls over the pen doors, spilling a lot of it, and clearly not giving a shit.

“There, you little shits, shut the fuck up.” He got to the end door, which didn’t have an open top, so he was forced to unbolt it, and just as he did so he could throw the dish in, I saw a small brown nose poke out. He growled and kicked at the dog. I heard the yelp and completely lost it. Before he knew what had happened because my speed had taken over, I had my hand around his throat, and he was pinned to the wall.

I couldn’t stand bullies.

“The fuck?” he managed to gasp out and tried to kick me unsuccessfully.

“You just kicked that dog.” Puppy, I amended mentally with a glance to the cage. He sneered.

“So, it’s part of their training.”

I stared at him dispassionately as he struggled unsuccessfully, and just as his face was turning scarlet, I let go, and he dropped to the floor like a sack of potatoes. “I’m calling the cops,” he shrieked.

“Do that,” I said, waving my phone. “Think they’ll be interested in what I recorded.” I was bluffing, but he didn’t know that.

“Wait until my aunt Moira hears about this,” he spat and turned and ran.

Well, shit. He was family? Her condoning this kind of behavior didn’t gel with what I’d seen, but I didn’t really know Moira. Then I heard a small whine and looked into the stall. Four puppies were curled around each other, shivering. They had one filthy blanket and a little bit of old straw and my heart broke for them. But none of this made sense, and I knew deep down that Drake wouldn’t be happy. But this wasn’t his business or his land.

I walked into the stall and realized that sitting down with them was a no-go, as there was so much shit in the small space. The water dishes were also empty. Rolling my sleeves up, I got to work.

Two hours later, I had cleaned each stall—eight dogs in total—made sure they had water and had given them extra food, then I found some clean straw and sat down next to the puppies. They had runs on the outside, but I didn’t know their routine so I left them closed.

The babies were all scared, still shivering even though it was warm, so I sat down and talked nonsense to them gently. The tan one with one brown and one blue eye was the bravest, even though he’d been the one to get kicked, and was soon sniffing and investigating me. Of course, the other three followed, and by the time I looked up and saw Drake leaning on the door watching me, I had all four of them sacked out on my lap and my legs.

He grinned. “You making friends?”

I winced. “I was just taking advantage because pretty sure this is the last time I’m going to be allowed back.”

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