Orchid Beach (Holly Barker 1)

“Not that I can think of.”

“A woman? Maybe he’s got a new girlfriend, and he moved in with her.”

“That’s possible, I suppose. Well, I can call him at his base office on Monday and find out what’s going on.”

“Good idea. Let’s get out of here.”

They locked up and got back into Jackson’s car.

“I need to stop by my trailer to pick up a few things,” Holly said. “I hadn’t planned to make a weekend of it.”

“Sure,” Jackson said.

It was after midnight now, and with no traffic they made good time to Riverview Park. As they got out of the car, Daisy jumped out in a hurry, nearly knocking Holly down.

“Daisy?” she called. “What’s wrong?”

Daisy had her nose to the ground, running along the path to the trailer. Now her hackles were up, and she was standing at the door, sniffing, staring at it as if she could see through it, a low growl coming from her throat.

Holly put a finger to her lips and raised a hand for Jackson to stand still. She dug the Beretta out of her bag and walked quickly up the path, her keys in her left hand, the pistol at shoulder height. She put an ear to the trailer door and listened. Then the door swung open.

CHAPTER

27

H olly nearly fell into the trailer, with Daisy snarling, trying to get past her. “Freeze!” she shouted, getting the gun out in front of her.

“Okay, I’m freezing!” a man’s voice called from the darkness inside. “Get hold of that dog, will you?”

Holly dropped her left hand and got hold of Daisy’s collar, but she kept the gun pointed into the trailer.

“Jesus, Holly,” the man said. “Are you going to shoot me?”

The voice was familiar. “Ham?” she called out.

“Right. Is that dog going to eat me?”

“Daisy, back!” Holly said. She pointed to the walkway. “Sit!”

Jackson was there now. “What’s going on?” he demanded.

“Jackson, I’d like you to meet my father. Ham, this is Jackson Oxenhandler.”

Ham turned on a light and looked at the two of them. “How you doin’?” he said, offering Jackson his hand.

“Good to meet you,” Jackson replied.

Holly turned to the dog. “Daisy, come. It’s all right.”

The dog walked warily into the trailer, her hackles still up.

“Daisy, this is Ham; he’s good, good. Ham, hold out your hand, palm down.”

“Am I going to get it back?” Ham asked.

“Just do it.”

Ham held out a hand. Daisy sniffed at it, tasted it.