Finally comprehending the scene before him, he realized that Emma had planned to destroy the evidence and hide the truth from him. Archibald’s rage seemed to grow as he stared at the scene around him. “You planned to lie to me!” Suddenly the room rang with the sound of flesh meeting flesh as he struck Emma across the face, the force of the blow slamming her to the floor.

Archibald leaned over to grab Emma again, but was suddenly knocked off his feet. The formerly sleeping Newfoundland now stood over him growling furiously, drool gleaming on its sharp canine fangs. “Oh, look, your bitch has awoken. Shall we find out if your precious pet has learned her place yet? Duchess, Heel!” For an instant it appeared the dog would follow the command issued, but when Archibald again moved toward Emma, the one-hundred pound dog launched herself forward and sank her gleaming fangs into the soft flesh of his forearm, jerking the man around with a flick of its head.

From where he stood, Justin was unable to see the wounds being inflicted on the other man’s body, but he could easily hear the sounds of tearing flesh and the screams of pain ripped from Archibald. As she witnessed the horrifying scene occurring before her, Emma scrambled backward on the floor and was slowly rising to her feet when Archibald finally freed his arm from the dog’s mouth. “You will regret that, you bitch!” he shouted at the dog, then turned to his wife and growled, “You will regret it as well, my dear.” Cursing under his breath, he left the house, his bleeding arm clutched to his chest, as he attempted to wrap it with the ends of his shirt.

Sensing the danger had passed, Duchess padded over to her mistress and nuzzled her leg, whining for attention. Dropping to her knees beside the animal, Emma wrapped her arms around the hound and as she buried her face into its soft fur, began to cry. “What would I have done without you, Duchess?” Lifting her head she looked into the dog’s dark eyes, “And not just today, but every day of these last nine months. All I have to do is look at you and it’s almost like my darling Jeb is with me. I can not count the times I have blessed the day that Jeb gave you to me at Aunt’s house.”

Some time later, Emma was just beginning to dry her tears when the front door crashed open. Standing in the door with the late morning sunlight hiding his features in a blazing outline, was Archibald holding a rifle in his good hand and propping he barrel on the elbow of his now bandaged arm. “Move away from that beast, Emma. I am going to do what needs to be done.” Duchess sat growling at the man from where she sat protecting Emma. Instead of moving away as she had been ordered, Emma stood and moved between her pet and her husband.

Taking another step into the room, Archibald shrugged his shoulders and said, “No matter.” Moving his injured arm with surprising speed, he backhanded his wife, sending her flying out of the way, and raising the rifle with his good arm, smashed the butt into the dog’s face. With the sickening crunch of shattering bone, the Newfoundland was knocked unconscious and crashed to the floor. Emma was on her feet instantly and rushed forward to defend the animal, but was stopped short when the butt of the rifle slammed into the right side of her ribs. She fell to her knees, finding it difficult to breathe. “Stay back, Emma. If you value your life in the least, STAY BACK!”

Emma remained where she had landed on the floor, flinching when her beloved dog began to whimper and whine as it regained consciousness. Looking down at Duchess, Archibald sneered and spit in the large animal’s face, then leaned over and wrapped his hands around the Newfoundland’s neck. He lifted the dog off the floor and with a mighty twist, snapped its neck. Emma screamed in anguish as blood began to drip from the corner of the dog’s mouth. Dropping the lifeless dog to the floor, Archibald yelled, “Not so keen to bite me now, are you?” Taking a large knife from his belt, he slid the blade into the dog’s neck and slit her throat so deeply, the furry head was nearly severed from its body, spraying himself with blood in the process. As the rage that had possessed him diminished, Archibald stood up and walked toward the stairs without saying a word, leaving the now mutilated dog in a growing pool of its own blood.