Page 32 of Almost Dead (The Cahills 2)

Paterno barely noticed as he studied Marla’s file.

Where the hell was she?

Who was her accomplice?

The state police were looking into that angle of the investigation, and, in truth, Marla’s whereabouts weren’t a part of his caseload. Yeah, he was the cop who had nailed her, but now she was someone else’s problem.

Except that her mother-in-law was killed within days of Marla’s escape.

Paterno took another swallow of the coffee, felt a case of heartburn coming on. He opened the second drawer in his desk, where he found a bottle of antacids, and popped a few, washing them down with the coffee.

“Did you drop off the dog?” Janet asked.

“I was glad to get rid of that yappin’ thing.”

“She’s sweet.”

“My ass.”

Quinn was an animal lover. All animals. Period. If it had two legs or four; hard shell, fur, or feathers; beak, wings, scales, or webbed feet, she loved it. She’d even gone so far as to give up meat, becoming a vegan, which, when they were on the road together, was a royal pain.

“I bet Cissy was glad to see her.” Quinn’s eyes lit up behind her glasses. She’d probably wanted to adopt the damned thing and add it to her already swarming brood of five cats.

Paterno snorted derisively.

“Oh yeah,” Quinn said, finishing her drink. “You’re so tough.”

“That’s just the kind of guy I am,” he said as his cell phone rang and Quinn took her leave. He made some notes to himself as he heard the frustration in the voice on the other end of the line. Oscar Benowitz worked with the California State Patrol. A good friend, lousy poker player, and ace golfer, Oscar and he traded information between the two agencies, especially when cases overlapped.

“I saw you called,” Oscar said. “I figured it was about Marla Cahill. Well, the truth of the matter is we got squat. Unbelievable. It’s like the woman literally vanished into thin air.”

“Someone on the outside helped her.”

“That we got figured,” he snapped, then added: “We’re checking all the phone calls and visitors who came by to say ‘hi.’ Her cell mate claims she didn’t know a thing, which is what we’re hearing from all the inmates. We’re still looking, working with the prison, but so far we’ve got nothing.”

Paterno glanced over at the open file on his desk to Marla Cahill’s mug shot. Her damned eyes seemed to stare back at him, taunting, as if she were thinking, You’ll never get me.

“Anyone talking inside the first place she was locked away in? The real prison?”

“She hasn’t been there in a while.”

“My guess is she’s been planning this for years.”

Oscar seemed to want to argue, but said simply, “I’ll keep you posted.”

Paterno hung up and finished his coffee. He wasn’t surprised that Marla Cahill hadn’t left any clues. He suspected she’d planned this a long, long time ago, and the truth of the matter was, from Marla friggin’ Cahill, he expected no less.

“A dog?” Tanya said, stepping backward at the sight of Coco. She was a short, frail-seeming woman whose looks were deceptive as she spent hours rowing on the bay or running to keep in shape. “You got a dog when you know I’m allergic to all animals, including dogs!”

“She was my grandmother’s, and she’ll be staying with us.”

“Permanently?” Tanya asked, her brown eyes round and wide beneath shaggy bangs. “I’m serious about the allergies.”

“I don’t know how long she’ll be here,” Cissy said tightly, fighting back her annoyance. “She’s an old dog. She’ll just sleep in her basket…. Look, if she bothers you, put her in the crate, with a pillow or blanket or towel. That—detective—just brought her over here without any of her things. But I’ll pick them up and bring them back.”

“You’re seriously thinking of leaving me and Beej with it?” Tanya said, recoiling as if Coco were a ferocious wolf, snarling in the darkness, blood dripping from her snout. As if sensing Tanya’s abhorrence, Coco growled and yapped.

“Give me a break, will ya, Tanya?” Cissy snapped. “My grandmother died last night. I found her body. She might have been murdered, so deal with the dog, okay?”

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