Sean Evans was a new addition to Avalon Subdivision. Rumor said he was ex-military. The rumor was probably right. In my experience, the ex-military guys came in two types. The first grew long hair, sprouted beards, and indulged in all the things they hadn't been able do while they'd been in the armed forces. The second did their best to pretend they never got out.
Sean Evans belonged to the second category. His russet-brown hair was cut short. His square jaw was clean-shaven. Tall and broad-shouldered, he had a strong, fit body, honed by exercise to a lean, muscular precision. He looked like he could pick up a fifty-pound rucksack, run across the city with it, and then beat an ungodly number of enemies to a bloody pulp with his bare hands while things exploded dramatically in the background. He was said to be unfailingly polite, but something in his stare communicated a clear "don't mess with me" message.
"Sean!" Margaret waved. "We've got another dead dog!"
Sean made a slight adjustment to his course, heading straight for us.
"He's so hot it's sick," Kayley volunteered.
David turned purple in the face. "The man's twenty-seven years old. That's too old for you."
"I didn't say I wanted to date him, Dad. Jeez."
For me hotness was a complicated matter involving brains, humor, and some other things, but all that aside, I was willing to admit Sean Evans was nice to look at. Unfortunately, in light of the events two nights ago, he was also the prime suspect for the dog killings.
Sean stopped and looked at Brutus. As he glanced up, I checked his eyes. They were amber, a particular shade of brown with a touch of a golden hue, almost orange in the sunlight, and they were surprised. He hadn't killed Brutus. I let out a quiet breath.
A black SUV pulled around the bend. Mr. Byrne. Oh no.
The Hendersons beat a strategic retreat while Margaret waved at the SUV. Sean looked at the dog some more, shook his head, and sidestepped the body. He was about to take off. Stopping him and catching his attention was a terrible idea. Getting involved in this whole dead-dog affair in any way was an even worse idea. But the alternative was to do nothing. I'd done nothing the first two times, and the serial murderer of the dogs showed no signs of stopping.
"Mr. Evans?" I called. "A moment of your time?"
He looked at me as if he'd never seen me before. "Do I know you?"
"My name is Dina. I own the bed-and-breakfast."
He glanced past me at the old house sitting at the mouth of the subdivision. "That monstrosity?"
Aren't you sweet? "Yes."
"What can I do for you?"
In the street, the SUV screeched to a halt. Mr. Byrne stepped out. A short, older man, he seemed to shrink even more as he approached his dog's body. His face had gone white as a sheet. Both Sean and I looked at him for a brief second.
"How long do you intend to let this continue?" I asked quietly.
Sean frowned. "I don't follow."
"Something is obviously killing dogs in your territory. One would think you would want to take care of that."
Sean fixed me with a thousand-yard stare. "Ma'am, I don't know what the hell you're talking about."
Ma'am? Ma'am? I was at least four years younger than him.
Mr. Byrne knelt on the grass by Brutus's body. His face went slack.
"The first two dogs were hidden, but this one is in plain view. Whatever is killing them is escalating, and it's taunting you. It's leaving its kill where everyone can see."
Sean's face gained a no-nonsense-tolerated expression. "I think you might be crazy."
Mr. Byrne looked ready to topple over.
"Excuse me." I set my grocery bag on the grass, walked around Sean, and crouched by the older man. He put his hand over his face.
"I'm so sorry."
"I don't understand," Mr. Byrne said, his voice hollow. "He was fine this morning when I let him out in the yard. I don't understand... How did he even get out?"
Margaret decided it was a good moment to escape and backed away.
"Why don't you go back to the house?" I said. "I'll get my car and bring Brutus to you."
His hand was shaking. "No, he's my dog. I've got to take him to the vet..."
"I'll help you," I promised.
"I'll get something to line the trunk with," Sean said. "Give me a minute."
"I can't..." Mr. Byrne's face stiffened.
"I'll take care of it," Sean said. "I'm sorry for your loss."
Sean returned with some clear garden plastic. It took about five minutes for us to wrap Brutus' remains and Sean carried the bundle into the back of the SUV. Mr. Byrne got in, and Sean and I watched the vehicle take off.
"I just want to avoid any misunderstandings," I said. "Since you refuse to defend your territory, I'll have to take care of it."
He leaned closer to me. "Lady, I thought I told you already --I don't know what you're talking about. Go back to your place and sweep the porch or whatever it is you do up there."
He wanted to pretend to be dense. There wasn't much I could do about that. Maybe he was a coward, although he didn't seem the type. Maybe he just didn't care. Well, I cared. It would have to be enough.
"Very well. As long as you don't get in my way, we won't have a problem. So nice to meet you, Mr. Evans."
I started up the street toward my house.