Mary sat for quite a long time after Ellen left, thinking. A long, thin, sharp instrument slid into someone’s chest between their ribs and into their heart. She didn’t think she could do that and doubted many people could. What kind of skill would someone need? Ellen was right. John would have it, but why would he want to kill Cliff? And Evan? He and Glen had been close friends of Evan’s, if not of Cliff’s, so, why? Could it have something to do with the pet shop? She shook her head but immediately stopped. It felt better but still wasn’t up to shaking. She needed food. The dog had eaten, but she hadn’t. Two cups of coffee were having an effect on her empty stomach. The thought of an egg, or anything else she had to cook, overtook her hunger pangs. With a sigh, she pushed herself to her feet and headed to the refrigerator. The dog raised her head from her position beside Mary’s chair and looked hopeful.
‘You already ate.’ Mary opened the refrigerator door and looked in. ‘Besides, mocha yogurt isn’t on your dietary program.’ She took out the yogurt and looked at it. She’d bought it last week at Trader Joe’s but hadn’t yet tried it. Was she up for a new adventure this morning? Even one as mundane as yogurt? She peered again at the contents of the refrigerator. There was nothing else that she didn’t have to fix. Even toast seemed like too much effort. There was one rather tired-looking orange in the hydrator. She sighed, closed the door and took the yogurt back to the table.
The dog hadn’t taken its eyes off her.
‘Not a chance.’ She took a small mouthful. ‘I wish you could talk. I’d love to know what happened between your other owner and John and Glen.’
Other owner? She had to smile. ‘I guess you’re going to stay. At least, I hope so. I sort of like having someone to talk to.’
The dog cocked her head.
‘Did Evan really leave everything to John and Glen?’
The dog said nothing but saliva built up at the corners of her mouth.
‘How about the house? Do they get that too? Or are they just the executors?’
The dog whined softly, her eyes watching every spoonful Mary put in her mouth.
‘Did you go to the shop much? Did Bill Bliss come in often? I can’t think why he was there. They don’t have a dog. I’m pretty sure they don’t.’ She thought about that.
Millie seemed to be thinking as well, but not about Bill Bliss. Tiny drops of saliva hit the floor as she stared at Mary’s yogurt carton.
‘Maybe they have a cat. That would be a sensible animal for a winery.’
The dog whined softly.
‘Luke was there last evening. I don’t understand all this about using his poodle. Why wouldn’t he let John and Glen use his poodle? People generally pay to do that, don’t they?’ She took another spoonful. How much could one charge for such a service? ‘As for Cliff influencing Luke, I doubt if he’s been able to do that in years.’ She took another spoonful and looked into the carton. It was empty. ‘You didn’t mind having pups with a poodle, did you? Cocker spaniels and poodles, they’re both darling dogs.’
Millie looked crestfallen as Mary put the empty carton on the table. She stood, staring at the yogurt cup, as if daring it to move her way, and gave one sharp bark.
‘You want the empty yogurt cup? I’m pretty sure I heard dogs aren’t supposed to have chocolate. Besides …’
The dog barked once more and scratched at Mary’s knee.
‘Oh, well. There’s not enough left in there to hurt you.’ Mary put the cup on the floor. The dog picked it up and headed for Mary’s bedroom. Mary hoped she planned to take it to her basket in her bedroom and not her living-room sofa. She pushed herself up to follow and the doorbell rang. And rang again. And again.
‘What is there about this morning that makes everyone so insistent?’ She hobbled toward the front door. No sign of the dog on the sofa. She pulled the door open.
Dalia and Ronaldo stood there, their faces beaming. Tony and Luanne stood right behind them, holding a large donut box.
‘We came to bring you a donut so you’d feel better.’ Ronaldo’s grin seemed to go from ear to ear.
Dalia’s face was more serious. ‘Are you all right? Mrs Dunham said you had a knot on your head and stitches in your leg but were OK. Are you?’
‘I’m fine. What are you doing standing on the porch? Come in. Come in. Coffee’s hot and I’ll bet I can find some hot chocolate. It’s a cold morning. Something hot will go good with donuts, won’t it?’
A black bomb exploded out of the bedroom, barking and wagging at the same time. She skidded to a stop behind Mary, making a huge fuss as the children drew back. Then she stopped, looked up at Mary as if for approval, and sat down.
‘This is Millie.’ Mary wasn’t sure if she should laugh or be alarmed. She’d never seen the dog act like that. Should she put her outside? Would she bite the children?
‘Millie.’ Dalia was already cooing at the dog, calling her name softly, squatting down and holding out her hand.
The dog stood and inched toward her, sniffing at the open hand, wagging her stump of a tail harder as Dalia rubbed her ears.
‘I want to pet her too.’ Ronaldo knelt down beside his sister and reached out for the dog.
Mary held her breath. Luanne grabbed Ronaldo by the arm.
Tony smiled. ‘She’s fine. That’s Evan’s dog, isn’t it? She makes a lot of noise but she’s never bitten anyone I’ve heard of.’
As if to prove his point, the dog planted a wet kiss on Ronaldo’s face. He laughed. Dalia scowled.
The children played with the dog for a moment before Mary looked at Tony and Luanne. They also watched the children but with no joy on either face. Stress lines framed both of their eyes.
‘Why don’t you kids take Millie outside to play? Just in the backyard. I don’t know how well she does on a leash yet. Ronaldo, I think there’s an old tennis ball on the shelf above the washing machine. Why don’t you see if she likes to play fetch?’
Both children were on their feet, calling Millie and heading for the back door.
Dalia paused to look at her mother. ‘Can we?’
Luanne nodded.
No hesitation there. She’d been right. Luanne and Tony wanted to talk and she didn’t think it was about her failed encounter with the slated box.