you?”

“I have three already,” Emma said. She held out her hand for the pup to sniff, and he went all licky-lou on her.

“Aw, he’s sweetie,” she said. “What are you going to do with him?”

“Put up signs in case his owners are missing him, and then if we can’t find them, I suppose I’ll take him to the pound.”

Emma gave her a nod as if to say she understood, but Lindsey still felt like a heel even using the p word. The dog turned and licked her hand and she felt even more rotten.

“I keep lousy hours for having a dog,” she said. “It wouldn’t be fair to him.”

“Hmm, I think he’d find that more fair than being shoved in a book drop,” Emma said.

Lindsey sighed because she knew she was right. Still, she didn’t want a dog.

“So, I see that Nancy is gone. Does that mean Carrie was released?”

“Yes, just over an hour ago,” Emma said.

“So, she wasn’t arrested or anything?”

“No, why? Should she be?”

“No!”

“Relax, I’m just messing with you,” Emma said.

She winked and Lindsey said, “Funny, really, stop. You’re killing me.”

“You take it where you can.” Emma shrugged. “A word to the wise, though, I played Chief Daniels that message from Marjorie.”

“And?”

“He’s concerned, and he’s planning to pay her a visit,” Emma said. “For some reason, she’s focused on you, so keep your guard up.”

“I will,” Lindsey said.

With Emma’s warning ringing in her ears, Lindsey headed to the vet’s. It wasn’t a long walk, but the sun had already set and the streetlights, although helpful, didn’t really dispel the shadows that were making Lindsey twitchy. She didn’t really think that Marjorie was going to run her down or jump out from behind a trash can, but she couldn’t shake the feeling of unease that lingered over her like a stranger’s eyes watching her every step.

When she turned onto her street, just a few houses from the vet’s, a pair of headlights swung in her direction, catching her in their light. Startled, she felt her heart slam up into her throat like a brick.

CHAPTER 11

BRIAR CREEK

PUBLIC LIBRARY

Lindsey did not want to have another go-round with Batty Bilson. If the chief had questioned her about the voice mail, Lindsey had no doubt that Batty was hunting her down for another little chat.

She should have asked Emma what the plan was so she could be prepared. As it was, she had no intention of engaging in another go-round with a nut burger. She began to jog, hoping her loafers didn’t slip on a patch of ice and send her and the puppy sprawling.

She could hear the vehicle behind her coming up fast, and she jumped onto the walkway that led to the Rubinskis’.

“Lindsey, wait! Hey, are you all right?” a deep voice shouted after her.

Lindsey stopped short and spun around to find Sully in his truck parked against the curb with his window down. She felt her heart resume beating in her chest as the dog wriggled around inside the bag, trying to get a good look at the owner of the deep voice.

She put her hand flat on her chest and sucked in a deep breath. “Oh, jeez, I thought you were Marjorie Bilson.”

“Nah, I’m too tall,” he said.

A laugh that was mostly relief escaped her. Height was the least of their differences, she thought as she puffed out a breath. She waited while he shut off the engine and stepped out of his truck.

“What have you got there?” he asked as he pointed to the bag.

“A new patient for Dr. Rubinski,” she said. “Someone shoved him in the book drop at the library, so I’m bringing him in to make sure he’s okay.”

“Are you serious?” he asked, looking appalled. “Someone stuck him in that big metal drawer?”

“Sadly, I am,” Lindsey said. “Poor guy, we have no idea how long he was stuck in there.

Sully held out his hand, and the fuzzy, black dog sniffed and licked him and then barked in approval. Sully reached up and ruffled his ears. The dog pushed against the bottom of the tote bag, trying to get to him.

“He seems to like you,” she said. “Interested?”

“Ah, I’m more of a beta fish kind of guy,” he said.

“You can’t snuggle a beta fish,” she said, using her best sales-pitch voice.

“Sure, you can,” he said. “You just hold up their bowl and puff out your cheeks. They love that.”

Lindsey rolled her eyes, turned and went up the walkway, following the signs that led to the office. In what she guessed used to be a free-standing garage, the vet practice had been built, complete with cat and dog paw prints leading the way into the entrance.

Sully fell into step beside her, and when she glanced at him, he said, “I just want to get a good look at the little guy.”

“Excellent and maybe you know someone who’d like a dog?” she asked. Just then the pup licked her chin and she looked down to see him gazing at her with warm brown eyes.

“Yeah, I think he’s already found his person,” Sully said.

“I work too much,” Lindsey protested. “And I don’t know how Nancy feels about dogs. She may not even let me keep him through the night.”

“Sure she will,” he said. “Nancy’s a softie. She lets Charlie live there, doesn’t she?”

“He’s housebroken,” she said.

“Barely,” he teased.

They entered the building and she approached the reception area. A young woman in scrubs greeted her and handed Lindsey a clipboard.

“Hi, Ms. Norris,” she said. “This is a form for new-patient information.”

“Here, I’ll watch him,” Sully said as he took the tote bag off her shoulder and let the puppy out.

“Thanks,” Lindsey said, and she sat down on the lone couch to fill out the forms. Given that she knew nothing about the dog, it went fairly quickly.

Sully and the puppy played on the floor while they waited. Lindsey noticed that Sully’s large square hands dwarfed the dog and yet he played with an innate gentleness that she found endearing.

“Ms. Norris,” the young woman called her. “We’re ready for you.”

Lindsey rose from her spot on the couch and Sully scooped the puppy up from the floor and followed her into the exam room.

Tom, Dr. Rubinski, was already there, and he took in the sight of the two of them with the dog with a large grin.

“Lindsey, we meet again,” he said. He held out his hand and they shook. “At least I’m wearing clothes this time.”

Sully raised his brows and looked in between them. Lindsey felt her face grow hot and she said, “He was in his pajamas the last time we met.”

“Oh, really?” Sully asked.

“As was his wife,” she added. “It was the night of the Batty incident.”

“Oh.” Sully smiled and shook hands with his friend. “I hope it wasn’t those embarrassing SpongeBob ones that you own.”

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