Horse of a Different Killer by Laura Morrigan Read Free Book Online

Emma had told me it would be better to ignore him and let Wes handle it.
    That had worked until I’d gotten the first phone call. The message had been short and, if not sweet, at least succinct.
    â€œGrace, this is Tony Ortega. I need to speak to you. You’re the only person who can help.”
    When I’d played the message for Emma, she’d rolled her eyes and said, “Please. Who does he think you are, Obi-Wan Kenobi?”
    â€œIs there a chance he has a real problem with a pet?”
    â€œTony, with a pet? You know what he said when I told him you were studying to be a veterinarian?”
    I hadn’t.
    â€œWho would bother to care for a sick animal?” she’d said, perfectly mimicking his light Spanish accent.
    After that, I’d erased all the other messages without listening to them, except . . .
    I stopped so abruptly Moss jerked the leash out of my hand.
    Run!
    Suddenly freed from the dead weight holding him back, Moss turned on the afterburner and sprinted down the beach. Within seconds he was thirty yards away.
    â€œMoss!” I called between panting breaths.
    I squinted into the hazy distance, scanning for anyone who might be alarmed to find a large, white wolf running toward them, and blew out a relieved sigh when I saw the coast was clear.
    No pun intended.
    Nevertheless, the damp, dim morning wouldn’t keep everyone away. Soon, someone was bound to come along. I looked back toward the condo, praying my dog-hating neighbor, Mr. Cavanaugh, would not be that someone. He’d call the authorities and file a complaint with the condo association before I could blink.
    I looked back to where Moss had been but he was nowhere in sight.
    Moss!
I reached out mentally, easily zeroing in on the familiar hum of his canine brain.
    This, oddly enough, helped me see him and I got a fleeting glimpse of his white form as it disappeared into the fog.
    Too far.
    â€œMoss!”
    Get back here. Now.
    I put more than a little force of pure will into the last word. The weight of She Who Must Be Obeyed.
    It would have been overkill for almost any other dog, causing a panic response.
    Moss is not any other dog.
    In a pack he would be alpha—a fact he reminded me of repeatedly.
    Run!
    He materialized out of the fog. Speeding toward me at a full run. Wolves can sprint at thirty miles per hour—I was guessing Moss was close.
    He was making a happy-wolf face. Golden eyes bright. Mouth open in a toothy, tongue-lolling smile.
    The exuberance hit me as soon as he did. Warmth radiating through him into me. Though the contact was only a glancing bump, it was enough to nearly knock me off my feet. Penance for calling him back.
    I whooped out a laugh and snagged his furry neck when he came in for a second pass.
    For a minute I was lost in wolf wonderland, but finally remembered to snap Moss’s leash on and try to recall what I was thinking about before his grand escape.
    Ortega. Had there been another message from him? One I’d missed?
    I pulled my phone out of my pocket to check and it started ringing. Nearly dropping it in surprise, I blinked at the caller ID.
    Anthony Ortega.
    What the hell?
    â€œHello?”
    â€œMay I speak with Grace Wilde, please.” The voice was British and belonged to a woman.
    â€œSpeaking.”
    â€œMiss Wilde, this is Jasmine El-Amin. I’m sorry to ring so early.” The words were rushed and filled with nearly palpable anxiety. “Do you have a moment?”
    How to answer? Now that I knew I was talking to Ortega’s fiancée—the witness Wes had mentioned—I wasn’t sure.
    Normally, I’d be handing the person accusing my sister of murder a list of short piers on which to take a long walk but curiosity triumphed pettiness.
    I wanted to hear for myself what she and her driver thought they’d seen.
    Keeping my tone polite and professional, I asked, “What can I do for you Miss