Annie's Rainbow - Fern Michaels [110]
“Gee, did I? Do you suppose I forgot them because you didn’t ask for them?”
“Could be,” Annie said, biting into one of the Oreos. She handed one to Jake.
“Your master is a bit testy. I have two big dogs like you. They like Fig Newtons. Thanks for bringing me here, big guy. You know what they say, when you save a person’s life you are responsible for them from that day on.”
“That’s a myth,” Clay snapped.
“The Chinese don’t think so,” Annie said, licking off the frosting between the cookie’s layers. Jake eyed them hungrily. Annie handed them over. “I have two German shepherds. This is a beautiful dog. I bet you love him to death.”
“Yeah, I do. Now, do you mind telling me what the hell you were doing in my field at this time of night with a gun in your pants?”
“I told you. Someone was chasing me. How was I supposed to know your field was a sea of mud? I didn’t know what his intentions were. I was plain-out scared because no one knew where I was. I wasn’t supposed to leave until tomorrow, but I left earlier and didn’t call. Then the storm came up, I took the wrong turnoff, and I was low on gas. That’s the story.”
“Why was someone chasing you?”
Annie sniffed. “Like I know! Why do perverts do the things they do? I’m assuming you’re going to let me stay here tonight. I’ll be more than glad to pay you for all the trouble I’ve been. I just love this dog,” she said sleepily. A minute later she was sound asleep.
Clay picked up the tray. “You stay here, Jake. Come and get me if things change.”
The Lab raised his head just long enough to stare for a second at his master. He woofed softly before he lowered his head to nuzzle Annie’s leg.
Clay closed the door halfway. He made his way downstairs to take up his position in front of the television. He knew for a fact there wasn’t much on the boob tube at three in the morning. One long arm reached out to the portable bar behind his chair. He popped a Corona and leaned back.
Every night for three long years he’d sat in this chair staring at nothing. Three long years since the knock sounded on his door and the sheriff told him straight out that Ann Marie was dead. Some damn drunk had run her off the road and her car turned over and exploded. Three very long years.
Jake had just been a pup then, but he knew Ann Marie wasn’t coming back. He’d cried and whimpered right along with him for all those long nights. Tonight the big Lab had been friskier than he’d seen him since puppyhood.
Why the big gun? Who in the hell is Annie Clark?
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
At the first sign of approaching dawn, Clay was off his chair to make his way to the back door. Time to check out Annie Clark’s story. A battered Dodge Dakota with close to 200,000 miles on its odometer waited next to a rotting barn. He loved this old vehicle that had once belonged to his brother Bobby. Retired now and living in Key Biscayne, Florida, Bobby and his wife drove a pearl white Cadillac. Bobby had been a star player for the Celtics back then, and he’d just been a young kid learning the game. In most ways his own star had outshone Bobby’s when he played with the Lakers. He’d invested almost all of the money he’d earned playing in the NBA. Those investments plus his pension enabled him to live a life of luxury if he chose. Luxury had never been a top priority with him, so he’d chosen to come back here to the farm when he quit the FBI. Retirement at the age of forty-four wasn’t at all what he thought it would be. All he did these days was a little gardening, a little cooking, a lot of reading, and a lot of hiking with his dog.
The engine of the battered truck turned over on the first try. He headed out to the main road, where he turned left. All night long he’d tried to figure out just where Annie Clark left the road to cross his fields. Five miles down the road he spotted a dark blue Chevrolet Cavalier nose down in the ditch on the left side of the road. He pulled over to the narrow shoulder. So the lady with the gun was telling the truth. He