Until Dark - Mariah Stewart [35]
“Hey, Lola,” the vet said softly as he approached. “No, no, girl. Stay right there. Kendra, let me take a look at her. . . .”
“Mark, I think she just had a seizure,” Kendra told him, her voice shaky.
After a quick examination, the vet looked up and said, “I need to take her into the clinic. You’re going to have to help me get her onto the gurney.”
“Of course, whatever you need.” Kendra bit her lip and looked down at the big sweet dog, whose eyes were now closed, her breathing more erratic. “What do you think happened?”
“I’ll need to run some tests to be sure, but off the top of my head,” Mark said as he headed to his van, “I’d say it looks like she’s been poisoned.”
Chapter
Seven
Adam stood to one side of the entrance to the cave and watched as the crime scene investigative team prepared to move their equipment on to the next. The sun had just started to come up, he’d been there since the day before, and couldn’t remember for certain when he’d last eaten. And to make his disposition just a little more sour, he’d called Kendra at the hotel to see if she wanted to grab some breakfast with him before she left, only to find out that she already had.
He rubbed the back of his neck hoping to erase some of the tension that had grown out of fatigue and frustration. The hours spent in the park had yielded little that appeared promising. Cigarette butts and beer cans littered the area, likely remnants from the last teen party to have been held here but nothing that could be connected with their UNSUB. There were footprints up and down the path that, in the absence of rain, could have been there for days. So far the caves had given up nothing of any substance.
“You think maybe he was scoping this place out to use in the future?” Miranda asked as she walked toward him and peeled off her gloves.
“No. I think he killed Karen Meyer here. We just haven’t found the right cave.”
“You look pissed off,” she noted.
“I’m starving and have a massive headache and pretty young women who should be around to dance at their children’s weddings are dropping like flies. Other than that, things are swell.”
“I heard they were bringing in some sandwiches, up in the park. Why don’t you run up and grab something to eat? You can grab something for me while you’re at it.” She glanced at the sun rising over the trees. “At least we’ll be able to work without those damn floodlights in our faces for a while.”
“That might help the headache,” he grumbled.
“I have aspirin in my car. Help yourself.” She searched her pockets, then handed him her keys. “Look in the glove box. And if the food wagon is more than a rumor, bring me something really good.”
“Preferences?”
“Protein. And something to drink. Anything wet will do. Within reason, of course. You know what I like.”
Adam pocketed the keys and headed up the narrow path that rose gradually to the main walk above, ever conscious that he was following in the footsteps of a killer. At the top, he stepped under the yellow tape strung between trees and looked over his shoulder, back down the path. There was no way their killer could have spent time here without leaving something of himself behind. Unfortunately, finding it and separating it from the bits and pieces left by others was time-consuming. It could take days to distinguish a cigarette butt tossed by the killer from those tossed by the junior high kids who sneaked down to split the six-pack that someone had stolen from an unsuspecting parent. There was simply too much debris in the area.
Adam snagged a bottle of water from the van that was just setting up to dole out food and drinks to the weary investigators and continued on to Miranda’s car for the aspirin that he hoped would dull the pounding between his ears. He leaned against the side of the car while he tossed back the capsules and watched the gathering