Horse of a Different Killer Read Free Page A

adopted.”
    â€œYes.” Actually, the Doberman in question was alive and well and living with a certain surly detective I knew. I’d fudged on the papers, and Jake had gotten a great dog who was only vicious when murderers were attacking people he cared about.
    Detective Boyle was trying to goad me by questioning my skills, but she was barking up the wrong tree, so to speak. People had been questioning my skills for years, and I was not easily goaded.
    â€œQuite a mistake,” she added.
    â€œEveryone makes them.”
    â€œDetective Nocera tells me you’re very good at your job, despite your
mistakes
. But I’m having a hard time understanding why Anthony Ortega would need to hire an animal behaviorist.”
    â€œHmm . . .” I tried to sound thoughtful but was pretty sure my restraint was starting to slip and let some sarcasm through. Kai had advised me to stall and redirect, but I was reaching my limit. “Typically, people need me to help with animal behavior.”
    â€œEven people who don’t own an animal?”
    I should have been surprised but I wasn’t. Tony Ortega had never been what I’d call pet-friendly.
    â€œNo. That would be unusual.”
    â€œI agree.”
    I flashed her a smile. “Just when I thought we weren’t going to see eye to eye.” Yep, definitely letting loose with the sarcasm.
    She ignored my comment. “You must have some idea what he wanted.”
    I shook my head. Actually, I’d suspected Ortega had wanted to weasel back into Emma’s life and was using me to do it. Learning he didn’t own a pet seemed to confirm that theory.
    â€œSorry, Detective. I have no clue.”
    â€œBecause you and your sister have no contact with him, correct?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œWhy not?”
    Part of me wanted to tell her what a raging asshole Ortega was. A total narcissist and someone I wouldn’t want to hang around with even if he hadn’t beaten my sister so badly she’d been almost unrecognizable when I’d seen her lying in the hospital bed.
    The image of that moment filled my mind. Emma’s beautiful face so swollen and bruised it looked like a horrible, bloated mask.
    The truth was, I was glad Ortega was dead. But I kept that to myself and said, “We didn’t have anything to talk about.”
    â€œSo, all the times he called you in the last few days . . .” She paused to consult her notes. “Thirteen times according to your phone records—you never spoke to him?”
    â€œNo, I didn’t.”
    â€œYou were avoiding him?”
    â€œWe didn’t get along.”
    â€œWhy’s that?”
    I had a feeling she knew the answer. But I wasn’t about to take the bait. Telling her Ortega was abusive to my sister until she escaped their marriage sounded too much like a motive for murder.
    I shrugged, looked her in the eyes, and said, “Ever just meet somebody who rubs you the wrong way? You just can’t help it. You don’t like them, right off the bat?”
    She kept her gaze steady on mine and smiled ever so slightly. “You know, every once in a while, I sure do.”
    â€œWell then, we seem to have reached an understanding.” I stood, gave her a departing nod, and walked out into the corridor.
    Marching over to the double doors leading into the homicide unit, I pulled one open and spotted Jake already striding toward me. He’d probably been watching my interview with Boyle on one of the wall-mounted monitors.
    Though I thought he knew me well enough to predict what I wanted, I stopped and, with a very calm voice, said, “I’d like to see my sister. Please.”
    Jake’s jowly face was made more dour by the stern, downward tilt of his mouth. He glowered at me, then glowered a little harder, finally ticking his chin up in a quick nod.
    â€œCome on,” he growled, leading me through the room to a solid