A Bloodhound to Die for by Virginia Lanier Page B

mother’s side. She still works in the office?”
    “She’s not a snitch, she’s family.” He sounded complacent.
    I was envious of his close-knit extended family.
    “If I had your connections, I would own the county by now,” I said dryly.
    “Nah, you’d be worn out trying to run everyone’s life.”
    “You think?” I countered.
    Hank laughed. “If I hear anything, I’ll let you know.”
    “Thanks.”
    I hung up and glanced at Jasmine. “He hasn’t heard a peep.”
    “Strange. It’s almost like they’re ashamed of losing him so quickly, so they’re laying low and keeping mum. I’m going to make a fresh pot of coffee.”
    “Good idea.”
    I was idly turning over the pile of mail from this morning, stacking the bills and throwing out the advertising fliers and other junk mail. Halfway down the pile was a regular-size plain white envelope with my name and address printed in pencil. There was no return address or postmark.
    I was curious and reached for the letter opener. Pulling out a single, ruled sheet of notepaper, I scanned the few lines and closed my eyes.
    I must have made a noise of some kind, because I felt Jasmine’s hand on my shoulder and the paper being removed from my fingers. I looked up at her as she read the contents aloud.
    Missy
,
    Y’all are a sound-sleeping bunch. Your dogs are too friendly for their own good, especially the one that lives in your house. He brought me his lead and gave me the grand tour. He’s a mighty fine dog. Remember that when they pressure you to find me
.
    J. J
.
    “Call Hank,” she demanded.
    I licked my lips. “Why? What can he do?”
    I waited for her answer.
    “He needs to know. Are you all right?”
    “No, I’m not all right. I’m angry and scared,” I whispered.
    I reached down and laid my hand on Bobby Lee’s side, which was moving slowly up and down with each breath while he slept. I was rewarded with a half thump of his tail but he didn’t open his eyes.
    I took a deep breath. “Get Donnie Ray and tell him that I need him and Wayne pronto.”
    She headed out and I called Hank.
    “Cribbs.”
    “It’s me again, I just opened the mail. I have a note from Jimmy Joe Lane. He paid me an after-hours visit last night. Seems he toured the kennel with Bobby Lee as his guide.”
    “Any proof of his visit?”
    “Nothing provable. Bobby Lee’s leads were coiled neatly on the floor in the middle of the grooming room this morning.”
    “That gained your undivided attention, I bet!”
    “You got that right,” I said wearily.
    “Don’t handle the note any more than you already have. I’ll be there within the hour.”
    “Do you have a mug shot of him? I need one to show the crew so they know who to watch for.”
    “I’ll get one from the prison and bring it with me.”
    “Thanks, Hank.”
    I stared out at the late-morning sunshine and realized that I had to return to the siege mentality and replace the security gates and pressure plates, and electrify the fences I had used when Bubba was stalking me. I was just getting used to the freedom from raucous alarms. It didn’t seem fair, but what other choice did I have? I had discovered at the age of ten that life isn’t always fair. It’s just that sometimes I forget that fact.
    There is a very slim line between unrequited love and vicious hate. Jimmy Joe had alluded to the safety of my dogs from the get go. I couldn’t let him roam freely over my property. His admiration could become vindictive quickly. I also realized that I couldn’t just sit on the sidelines and not get involved.
    I couldn’t understand his actions. He seemed to want me to search for him. Maybe he wanted to pit hisabilities of escape against my trying to find him. Who knew what made him tick? All the years of being confined had to have molded his personality in many different ways from the simple swamp-loving teenager of long ago.
    I could feel empathy for that boy and still be aware that the current Jimmy Joe could be a