“Don’t worry, this hasn’t been a waste of time. This works better than standing next to him.” A glance at my watch told me it was time to go in for the kill: 8:24. Rachel crooked a finger at Pete, and he made his way over as I made my way back. Frank put a possessive arm around me, but continued to give polite attention to a redhead who was still doing her best to converse with him. I leaned over and spoke softly into his ear. “Frank,” I said in my huskiest whisper, “I’m not wearing any underwear.”

We thanked Bredloe and were on our way home by 8:27.

PETE CALLED AT 10:30. I couldn’t make much of Frank’s end of the conversation, but the result was that he got out of bed and put on jeans and a sweater; not the type of clothes he wears when he’s going out on a case. “What’s up?” I asked.

“I’ve got to go over to Pete’s for a minute. I’ll be right back.”

“Is something wrong?”

“No, no, he’s fine. Rachel’s fine. Everyone’s fine.” He was acting fidgety.

“Well, fine. I’m so glad everyone is fine. Want me to go with you?”

“No, no. I’ll be right back,” he said, scurrying out the front door.

I decided this was a perfect opportunity. The minute I heard Frank drive away, I called Jack and warned him I was coming over for the dog. I put on jeans and a sweatshirt, then closed the bedroom door on Cody. He doesn’t like being locked in rooms, but once he figured out there was a dog in the house, he’d appreciate the sanctuary.

Before Jack would part with the mutt, I had to tell him that the dog would be right next door and that he was free to come over and see it any time. The dog was easygoing about it all, walking along on the leash with the kind of manners that said someone must have taken some time to work with him. I brought him into the living room and brushed his coat. He was calm and well-behaved. He even put up with the indignity of having a ribbon tied around his collar. After all, he was a Christmas present.

I was amused to see his ears perk up when Frank’s car pulled up in the driveway. I heard Frank opening the door, and suddenly the dog bolted and went bounding down the hallway. I ran after him, heard Frank swearing, and came outside to see my intended lying flat on his ass in the front yard.

“Quick! They ran toward the beach!” he shouted as he scrambled to his feet. I wasn’t sure who “they” were, but I closed the front door and caught up with Frank as he made his way down the steps to the shore. In the moonlight I could see two large dogs cavorting and chasing each other along the beach.

“Where’d that other dog come from?” I panted.

“I don’t know, I could swear it came out of the house—” He suddenly stopped running. “Irene?”

I stopped too. “Oh, no. You got a dog for me for Christmas.”

“Yes, that’s why I went over to Pete’s. I was going to wait until tomorrow, but she was tearing up Pete’s yard.”

“Oh, yeah? Well, guess what I got you for Christmas?”

“Does it have four legs and a mean tackle?”

“He seemed well-mannered until you opened the door. Jack was keeping him until I could come over and get him tonight. Jack helped me pick him out.”

“Jack? But Jack knew I was getting a dog for you.”

Suddenly I remembered Jack’s amusement at my saying that if Frank didn’t like the dog, I would just keep the dog for myself.

“I think Jack figures he’ll take your dog if you don’t want him.”

“No way.”

We watched them run part way into the cold water and come tearing out again. Great. Two wet, sandy dogs. Remembering that Frank’s dog — that is, the one I was giving him — had such good leash behavior, I whistled as loud as I could. Sure enough, the pair came galloping toward us, tails wagging, and getting us as wet and sandy as they were when they reached us. We each grabbed a collar, and I got my first close look at my Christmas present.

She had long black fur, and seemed to be some kind of Labrador retriever mix. She had a white patch on her chest; floppy ears, and big soulful eyes. She was about the same size as Frank’s dog. She gave me a friendly nuzzle and reached out a paw for a shake. “Happy to meet you. What did you say your name was?”

“She doesn’t have one yet. I’m not familiar with the names of all of Tennessee Williams’s characters.”

“Well, he doesn’t have one yet either, since I’m not willing to call him all those things you said when you first met him.”

“Too bad. But I guess the neighbors wouldn’t enjoy hearing you shout that from the front porch every time you called for him.”

We made it back to the house and carried the dogs into the bathroom. They weren’t light, but we didn’t want them tracking sandy paw prints all over the house. We cleaned them up in the tub, rinsed it out, then made them sit outside of it while we got into the shower. While I lathered up his back, I thanked Frank for the present.

“Think you’ll want to keep her?”

“Yes. What about you?”

“Yeah, having two big dogs and Cody will be a handful, but let’s try it, okay?”

They started barking. In the confined space of the bathroom, it sounded like we had them on a boom box in an echo chamber.

We got out, dried off, and put on clean jeans and sweatshirts while pandemonium reigned. Telling them to be quiet was useless. We let them out, and they both went charging for the front door, barking. “Oh no, you don’t,” Frank said, going after them. “You two are going out to the backyard for a while.” But when he reached the front

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