My Mentor Sponsored My Tuition Until My Rescue Dog Refused to Eat Near Him — Uncovering the 3-Year Cold Case That Lost Me Everything
The drive back to the annex felt like an eternity. Frank’s words echoed in my head, each one chipping away at the image I had of Arthur. I clutched the steering wheel, my knuckles white.
My first thought was Lily. I had to protect her.
I pulled into the driveway, the familiar brick of the main house looming larger, more ominous, than before. I was determined to keep my head down, to act normal, to plan an escape. I wouldn’t confront Arthur directly until I had a real plan.
I had barely killed the engine when Arthur emerged from the main house. He was dressed in crisp slacks and a polo shirt, a smile already forming on his face.
“Maya, there you are,” he said, walking towards my car. His voice was pleasant, but his eyes were sharp, observant. “I was just about to call. Lily was asking for you.”
He paused, glancing at Buster in the back seat, then back at me. His smile tightened almost imperceptibly. “Everything alright? You were gone for quite a while, and I thought I saw you talking to someone… rather official-looking… at the Elmwood clinic earlier.”
My blood ran cold. He had seen me. Not just that I was at the clinic, but that I was talking to Frank. How? Had he followed me? Or was he just incredibly observant?
“Just picking up a special order,” I said, trying to sound casual, fumbling with my keys. “It was quite a drive.”
I avoided mentioning Frank, hoping he hadn’t clearly seen who I was speaking with.
Arthur chuckled, a low, smooth sound. “Ah, yes, those specialized animal products. Always worth the trip, I suppose. But this ‘official-looking’ gentleman… he seemed rather engrossed in conversation with you.”
His tone was light, but there was an underlying current of probing suspicion. He hadn’t let it go. He was fishing.
“Just an old-timer striking up a chat about Buster,” I replied, trying to appear nonchalant as I unbuckled Buster from the back seat. “You know how dog people are.”
Buster, sensing the shift in atmosphere, pressed against my leg, a low growl rumbling in his chest. His fur bristled slightly, his eyes fixed on Arthur.
Arthur’s gaze lingered on Buster for a moment longer than comfortable. “Yes, well,” he said, the smile now completely gone. “Some old-timers can be a bit… meddlesome, wouldn’t you say? Especially those who can’t let go of past grievances.”
His words were a clear warning. He knew. Or at least, he suspected I knew something. The game had changed. My plan to stay quiet and strategize was already compromised. The shadow of Clara Hensley’s disappearance had officially entered the annex.
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