Just great.
Fifteen minutes later, I was standing outside the gate where I'd seen Lawton Rastor that very first time. Moving at a frantic pace, I'd barely taken the time to throw on a gray hoodie, pulling the hood over my already damp hair as I ran along the sidewalk, sloshing in puddles with every step.
The drizzle had turned to rain, a steady downpour that left me feeling like a drowned rat. But given the circumstances, I hardly cared. Was Chucky still there? I sure hoped so, because if anything happened to that dog, I'd sorely regret it, and not just because of the Parkers. He might've been a prankster, but he was growing on me.
By the time I reached Lawton's gate, I was soaked, breathless, and beyond irritated. Growing on me or not, Chucky was a very bad dog.
But now that I was here, I didn't quite know what to do. The gate was shut. And I had no idea how to gain access to the grounds. There was a covered keypad off to the right, but I didn't see a call button on it, and I couldn’t tell if it had an intercom. So I did the only thing I could. I cupped my hands around my mouth and yelled out toward the house, "Hey! Excuse me! Anyone home?"
Nothing.
With a deep breath, I ratcheted up the volume. "Hey! Anyone home?"
No answer.
"I'm looking for my dog!"
Even to my own ears, I sounded like an idiot. Patio grilling aside, it was way past the dinner hour. It was dark, I was wet, and the dog in question wasn't really even my own. Still, I wasn't about to give a long explanation while standing outside in the pouring rain.
Still no answer.
"Hey!!!" I called as loud as I could. "Chucky! Where are you? Anyone there!"
A moment later, I heard the sound of static, followed by a male voice. "Yeah?"
I looked at the keypad. Was the voice coming from there? I couldn’t tell. In the end, I decided it didn't matter. I simply called out in the general direction of the house. "I'm looking for my dog! Is he here?"
"Come on up," the voice said. A moment later, the gate slid slowly open.
"I'll take that as a yes," I muttered, pulling the soaked hoodie further down over my face as I walked through the now-open gate. When it shut behind me, I turned to look. If I needed to get out of here, could I? The iron fencing was tall, with minimal space between the spires, and I still had no idea what controlled the gate.
I wasn't some naïve girly-girl. I'd probably seen way more of life than anyone else here in this neighborhood. Okay, except for Lawton Rastor.
Yeah, it might've been stupid to walk blindly into the gated estate of someone I didn't know. And sure, the guy had a terrible reputation. But hey, I told myself, he was technically a neighbor. And besides, what were my other choices? Call the police? Contact animal control? No way I'd be doing either of those things. I wasn't even two weeks into this job, and getting fired for stupidity wasn't part of my plan.
It wasn't just that I needed the money. I didn't have anywhere else to go. Not really.
By the time I dashed up the brick driveway to the massive covered front entrance, I was soaked down to my skin. I reached a dripping hand toward the doorbell, but never got the chance to actually ring it. Because before I could, the wide door swung open, revealing a massive entryway, a huge crystal chandelier, and Lawton Rastor in the flesh, literally.
Chapter 6
Dripping water onto his front porch, I stared up at him. He stood in the entryway, bare-chested, with faded jeans and no shoes. His left hand rested on the elaborate silver doorknob. In his right hand, dangled a metal spatula.
I swallowed. It reminded me of the first time I'd seen him. Only this was much worse, because I couldn't exactly ignore him and walk away.
For Pete's sake, didn't the guy own a shirt? Or shoes? Oh, that's right. He did. He told me so, and besides, I'd seen them the last time I'd run into him.
Still, why couldn't I stop staring? His wavy dark hair was slightly damp, and a smattering of what I guessed were raindrops still glistened on his bare shoulders and trickled down toward his flat, muscular abs.
I pulled my gaze up to his face and choked out, "I'm looking for my dog. Uh, Chucky. A little terrier?"
"Chucky?" He gave me a slow, deliberate smile. "Like the possessed doll?"
The smile, along with the sound of his voice, set my world spinning. I stared up at him. My lips parted, and my mind suddenly went vacant. "Huh?"
"It's a movie," he said. "A bunch of them, actually."
I shook off the stupidity. "I don’t watch a lot of movies."
