9

Ricky eyeballed his chastised sons with a jaundiced eye. “I have an appointment with my brother’s lawyer and have to leave right now. I want this kitchen cleaned up by the time I get back, and while you’re at it, clean up my room and my bathroom. Then I want you to sit on your hands and not get into any more trouble until I get back. Do we understand one another?”

Both young men nodded, their eyes miserable.

“Good. Then you will see me when you see me.”

Forty-five minutes later, Ricky was sitting in Tim Andreadis’s office. He got right to the point the minute the amenities were over.

“Something has come up, Tim, and I need some advice.” He told him in short, curt sentences about Dicky Tee, his son’s attempts to waylay the tabloid reporter, and of Gracie Lick and his plan. “Look, I don’t give a hoot about what that scumbag writes about me because he’s done it before. The studio put him up to this to get even with me. Everyone in the know will see through that. What I care about are Tyler’s and Max’s grandparents, Roxy’s daughter Reba, and defiling Philly’s memory.

“Roxy finally gave me permission to go through Philly’s room at the house. I was wondering if you have a key to the Medeco lock Roxy said Philly had installed on the door. Where’s his stuff, Tim? I’d also like to know why Philly had you write Roxy a letter telling her not to try to enter that room. What the hell is in there? What was my brother hiding?”

The lawyer leaned back in his chair and stared at Ricky, an uncertain look on his face. “I don’t know, Ricky. I just did what Philip asked me to do. I do not have a key, nor do I know where he kept his personal effects. I assumed it was that room.”

“You don’t like Roxy, do you, Tim? Did you ever take the time to get to know her?”

Andreadis pursed his lips. Ricky thought he looked like he’d just bitten into a lemon. “No, I really didn’t know her. I only know what Philip told me, and, yes, that colored my opinion of her. I also didn’t like the way she acted at the reading of the will. She’s a gold digger, Ricky. That type never changes. The daughter now, that’s something else. Philip was good to her, but he had mixed feelings where she was concerned. Once he said to me, like mother like daughter. Does that answer your question?”

“I like Roxy. A lot. Maybe more than a lot. She told me some really strange things about her marriage to my brother. Did you know they never, ever, slept together? Did you know it was a marriage in name only? Did you know that single-handedly, she ran those two resorts? What that means is she worked like a damn dog while Philly sat around and looked important. I can prove all this, Tim. Philly’s life, from what I understand, defies belief. I don’t want that tabloid reporter getting downwind of anything that has to do with Philly. Will you please tell me what the hell was going on?”

“Your brother did not confide his secrets, if he had secrets, to me. All I did was handle his business affairs, of which there were many. Even if he had told me things, I’m bound by confidentiality. What I will say to you is, I don’t think it’s wise for you to get involved with Roxy, which is what I think you’re doing.

“Do you want me to file an injunction to try and stop the publication of the book? I can do that, but then you open up another can of worms. Suddenly, everyone will want to know what it is you’re hiding that you don’t want to come out in a book. I think your idea to beat the man to the punch and do your own story is a good one. Whatever that story may be. Hollywood is very forgiving, as you must know.”

Ricky licked at his dry lips. He was right back where he started. He stood up and looked down at the attorney, who was still sitting. “We hadn’t been close for years and years, but I miss him,” he said simply. When the lawyer didn’t respond, Ricky walked to the door. His hand was on the doorknob when the attorney finally spoke. His voice full of anguish, he said, “Philip was insanely jealous of you. He never said those words, but I could see it. And, yet, he did his best to take care of you the way he thought you should be taken care of.”

Ricky turned to look over his shoulder. He didn’t say a word or respond to Andreadis’s declaration. He closed the door behind him.

In his car with the window rolled down, Ricky cranked the stereo system to the max and peeled out of the parking lot. He wasn’t going to think about what the lawyer said. Not now, maybe not ever.

 

The three men watched her climb out of the Blazer, their expressions full of awe. She was dressed in a trim pumpkin-colored business suit and high heels. Her briefcase was leather, scratched and scarred, but still chic. Her shoulder bag was Chanel. Little did they, or anyone else, know that everything about Gracie Lick was either secondhand or a knockoff. In what little free time she had, she shopped at secondhand stores where the rich and famous recycled their clothes and accessories. Her thick, red hair was piled high on her head, giving her, along with the heels she wore, added height. She adjusted her designer sunglasses, while she waited for a mangy-looking photographer named Jonas to join her. The little group continued to watch as Gracie waved her hands about, evidently telling him what she wanted photographed.

Gracie Lick was lookin’ good. And she knew it.

Ricky opened the door and motioned for Gracie to enter with the photographer. She blatantly ignored Max and Tyler. She reeked of professionalism when she made the introductions. The photographer merely grunted.

“Let’s head for the study,” Ricky said. He hated discord, he really did. He motioned for everyone to take a seat. He winced when Gracie placed a tape recorder in the middle of the coffee table. Once words were spoken, they couldn’t be taken back. He nodded to show it was all right for her to turn it on.

Gracie whipped out a pen and flipped back the cover of a steno pad. She posed her first question and waited.

Max and Tyler, while they knew some of the story of their father’s life, listened with rapt attention. At times their expressions went from shock, to disbelief, to horror, to admiration. The man they thought of as Pop was baring his soul, and they didn’t want to miss a word.

At eight o’clock, Ricky held up his hand to halt the interview. “Let’s call it a day and pick up tomorrow afternoon. You can work with Max and Tyler in the morning or wait until afternoon. I have some things I have to tend to in the morning. Would you like to go to dinner with us, Gracie?”

Gracie looked over at Ricky, her dark eyes unreadable. She shook her head as she packed her recorder and steno pad into the scarred briefcase.

“Come on, Gracie, you have to eat,” Max said, hoping to wipe away the day’s negative activities and emotions.

Gracie whirled around, her dark gaze on both brothers. “Let’s be clear on this, Mister Lam, I wouldn’t go to a dogfight with you, much less sit at a table. That goes for you, too,” she said, jabbing a finger in Tyler’s direction. The sound of the lock on the briefcase snicking into place was the only thing to be heard in the otherwise quiet room. She jerked her head in the photographer’s direction. “Good night, Mr. Lam.”

Max’s voice was defensive when he said, “She’s like a Jekyll and Hyde. One minute she’s a whack job, the next minute she’s downright ugly, and, following that, she turns into a professional know-it-all.”

Ricky stood up, stretched his arms, and worked his neck to loosen the tight muscles in his shoulders. He stared down at his sons. “You hurt her. Women are very unforgiving when you attack their vulnerabilities. I suggest you find a way to set things right with her. I like Miss Gracie Lick. I also like her brother. Right now I like them more than I like you two. Both of you have had it too good, and don’t bother to deny it. Neither one of you could go out there and kick and scratch to make ends meet. That’s because neither one of you ever had to do that. Gracie and her brother work together as a team, and they take their responsibilities seriously. They have a sister to take care of, and they’ve been doing it the only way they know how. I admire both Gracie and her brother. You two, I do not admire.”

Both brothers looked uncomfortable. “What do you suggest we do?” Max asked quietly. They had just been reduced to a fat zero in their father’s eyes with six little words. You two, I do not admire.

“Oh, no, you’re on your own, and you get no advice from me. Just remember this, for every action there is a reaction. It’s all about accountability. Yours. Now, are we going to dinner or not?”

The dream was a bad one. He was standing on the edge of a cliff with a rope around his waist. He looked over his shoulder at Philly. “Are you sure you have the strength to hang on to it?” he shouted to be heard above the wind and the crashing waves down below.

“Don’t you trust me, Ricky? Didn’t I promise you and Mom that I would always take care of you?”

“Yes, you did promise, Philly. Are you sorry you made that promise? Are you sorry you’re so honorable? Tell me the truth, do you hate me?”

“You hit the magic jackpot, Ricky. Yes, yes, and yes.”

“Why? You’re going to let go of the rope, aren’t you?”

“You don’t know that, Ricky. Why did you say that?”

“Because I’m afraid of you. I can’t see inside you, Philly, the way you can see inside me. We’re brothers, and I don’t know who you are. I never knew who you were. I’m taking this rope off now. I’m not coming back here till I find out who you are.”

“It doesn’t work that way, Ricky. You do what I say when I say it. If you don’t, I’ll let you flounder for all the world to see. Now, put that rope back around your waist.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Take your damn rope and stuff it, Philly. I’m not jumping off a cliff because you tell me to do it.”

Ricky woke, sweat pouring down his face, his heart pounding in his chest. He could feel his whole body trembling. What was that all about?

It wasn’t light out yet, but he could hear the early birds chirping outside his window. It was a sound he loved. The beginning of a new day. He rolled over to look at the clock on the nightstand: 5:20. He might as well get up, shower, shave, have some coffee, and head for Roxy’s house. He wasn’t going to think about the dream he’d just had.

Thirty minutes later he was pouring his first cup of coffee. He looked up to see both his sons standing in the doorway. He wondered if they, too, had had bad dreams. He asked.

“No, we just heard you moving about. Last night you said you were going to your brother’s house this morning. We want to go along. Three heads are better than one.”

“All right. Wait a minute, what about Gracie?”

“She’s not coming till this afternoon. We’ll be back by then, won’t we? We can always postpone until tomorrow if we find the mother lode you’re looking for—your brother’s secret files. There are telephones, you know.”

“Still defensive?” Ricky said, staring at his son.

Max shuffled his feet. “Yeah, I guess so. Ty and I are going to head on back to the islands tomorrow morning. Unless you need us to stay on.”

“I think I can handle it. If we do the photo ops this afternoon, you’re good to go. I don’t want either one of you holding back. If you have something to say, I want you to say it. Is that understood?”

“How do we know Gracie won’t…? Hell, she can paint us any way she wants just to get even with us.”

“You don’t. You’re going to have to rely on Gracie’s professionalism. She’s not who you think she is. I wish you two would get that through your heads.”

“I’ll drive,” Tyler said. He hated seeing the look of disappointment that was on his father’s face. It was obvious that Max felt the same way he did.

An hour later, following his father’s directions, Tyler drove up a long, horseshoe-shaped driveway. Father and sons piled out of the car.

“I could count on one hand the number of times I’ve been here. Three altogether, I think,” Ricky said.

“Why is that?” Max queried.

“Philly never invited me. Roxy didn’t like me. The three times I did come here I was either drunk or stoned. I wanted to fight with Philly over something. Maybe he thought I would taint this hallowed ground. I think we went to two ball games. We managed dinner once or twice a year. It was very stressful. I think we both tried to avoid direct contact with each other.”

“There are no security gates like you have. I guess people didn’t line up to get his autograph or think he was important enough to follow him around,” Max said. Ricky looked at him sharply but didn’t say anything.

It was a beautiful house, a large Tudor on a street with equally magnificent houses. The other houses were well tended, the grass clipped, the flower beds weeded, and the shrubbery pruned. Roxy’s grounds looked neglected and bedraggled. Ricky knew someone came once a month to do lawn maintenance, but that was it. He wondered if the neighbors complained. Whom would they complain to? Like he cared.

Ricky fitted the key into the lock on the front door. It turned effortlessly. The alarm system blinked, then the red light glowed steady. Roxy hadn’t turned it on. What was the point, she said, if she was on the islands?

Ricky looked around the interior of the house, struggling to remember even some small detail. No memories surfaced. It was a house that didn’t look lived in. A house decorated, down to the smallest detail, by some professional decorator using his or her own taste. He didn’t like Oriental trappings of any kind, and he also detested lacquer. It wasn’t a Roxy house or whatever he perceived to be a Roxy house.

It was all about Philly. Why doesn’t that surprise me? he thought.

“Look,” Tyler said, “the fireplace has never been used. The brick is clean and shiny.” Ricky thought about the huge cherry logs he burned in his own fireplace in the winter when the weather cooled or when it was a raw, rainy day. He personally loved fireplaces.

They trooped through the house, all the rooms opening into other rooms, the Oriental decorating theme carrying throughout the house.

“This doesn’t look to me like it was ever a happy house. It’s cold and kind of sterile-looking,” Max said. “For sure there were no dogs or cats. What are we looking for?”

“I don’t know.” Ricky sat down on a brocade sofa that looked like it had never been sat on. He told his sons about his early-morning dream. “I want to know who he was, why he did the things he did. I want to know why he and I never had a brotherly relationship. Roxy doesn’t know. Philly’s lawyer, if he knows, will take Philly’s secrets to the grave with him. There are secrets. I’ve always known that. I just don’t know what those secrets are.”

Tyler frowned. “Exactly what kind of relationship did you have with your brother when you were growing up? Was it normal?”

“Was it normal? Probably not. We were never pals. We had to work. I grumbled and complained but he never did. He called me a pest. Philly was a loner, with few if any friends. I always thought he was our parents’ favorite. He told me once I was their favorite. He liked to hang out in the kitchen with Mom. He always set the table. I had to clear it. We had separate bedrooms. His was neat and tidy. Mine was a mess. I had tons of junk. I only made my bed when Mom threatened to ground me. Philly’s bed was always made. He saved his money, I spent mine. One time I saw him ironing. Mom showed him how. He was meticulous. I was messy, my clothes always wrinkled. Mom hated to iron. I didn’t care.

“Philly always cleaned his plate at mealtime, then said how good everything was. I was picky and finicky, preferring junk food. No, we were not close.”

“What about your parents?” Max asked.

Ricky shrugged. “I guess they were like everyone else’s parents. They didn’t put up with any nonsense from us, especially me. They didn’t show affection if that’s what you’re wondering. We were not a warm and fuzzy kind of family. In my teens I was a rebel, always in trouble and it carried through in my career. A couple of times I tried to make it right, but it didn’t work. Back then it was all about me. I’m not making excuses here. Do I have regrets? Bushels of them. You can’t undo the past. It’s gone.”

The boys looked at each other but said nothing.

“Okay, let’s get to it. We came here to find out about my brother.”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, Ricky, but I bet if you turned Gracie loose on this end of things, she could find out everything you want to know,” Max said.

Ricky headed for the stairs leading to the second floor. “It just might come to that. I won’t have a problem asking for her help. Reporters have sources, access to things normal people don’t have.

“Roxy said Philly always kept his study locked. They had separate bedrooms. My brother wasn’t a warm, fuzzy person in his personal or professional life. Roxy didn’t have a key to the study but gave me permission to break down the door. With the three of us, we should be able to do it. Tyler, go out to the car and get the tire iron.”

His sons gaped at him. “Are you sure you want to do this?” Max asked.

“No, I don’t want to do it. I have a feeling I’m not going to like what I find. But I’m still going to do it. I should have done it the week after he died, but I was in such shock I was lucky I could function at all. This is a Medeco lock, and it takes a special key that Roxy didn’t have. Special locks, special keys, tell me Philly was hiding something.”

Tyler returned with the tire iron. His expression was doubtful when he looked at the door. “It’s solid,” he said, thumping on the shiny, teak door. “I guess we should pry off the molding and the frame and go for the hinges. What do you think, Max?”

“Hell, I’m no carpenter. Let’s give it a whirl!” He looked at his father. “Did you consider a locksmith?”

“Roxy told me you have to have the Medeco key number or get a duplicate from the person who made the key. She tried to get a copy but was unsuccessful. I’m just going with what she told me.”

Two hours later, sweat dripping down their faces, Max undid the hinges and slammed at the door with his shoulder. It caved inward enough so that they could squeeze through the opening. The Medeco lock continued to hold fast.

Disappointment ringing in his voice, Tyler looked at his father. “It’s just an office.”

“With locked filing cabinets,” Max said. “Put some muscle behind that tire iron and open them, Bro.”

The master lock on the mahogany filing cabinet popped open with one twist of the tire iron. “That was almost too easy,” Tyler said.

Ricky looked around the twelve-by-fifteen-foot office. It was plain. There were no pictures on the walls, the beige draperies were closed. He opened them. Sunlight flooded the room. He looked down at the beige carpet and was surprised to see little tufts of fiber. That only happened when new carpeting was installed. Philly had lived in that house off and on for almost twenty years. Maybe he had redecorated it fairly recently. Maybe he didn’t spend much time in the colorless room. It was almost an exact duplicate of the office in Antigua. Goose bumps dotted Ricky’s arms.

There was only one chair behind the desk. One chair was meant to discourage visitors. Or, maybe no visitors ever crossed the threshold. He was surprised not to see a computer. There was no fax, no television set, no VCR, and no answering machine. There was a wastebasket with nothing in it. He opened the desk drawers on the left side of the desk, one at a time. One held paper clips and rubber bands. A second held pencils and pens. One held a calculator, a stapler, and a hole-punching gadget. The middle drawer was completely empty. The drawers on the right side of the desk held plain white paper and plain white envelopes. An unopened roll of stamps was pushed back into the corner.

A day planner with no entries, compliments of a brokerage house, was in the next drawer. The last drawer held a desk calendar and a paperweight. Everything looked new, just the way the office in the islands looked.

“In the movies, when they hide something, they always tape it under the drawer or behind it,” Max volunteered.

Ricky upended each drawer. Nothing. He looked disgusted.

“It always works in the movies,” Max said lamely.

“Let’s each take a drawer in the file cabinet. Like I said, I don’t know what we’re looking for, but I guess we’ll know it when we see it. On the other hand, maybe there’s nothing to find.”

“Wait!” Tyler said. “Just because there’s no answering machine doesn’t mean your brother didn’t have voice mail. This must be a private number. I’ll work on it, and you and Max do the file cabinets. There might be a message on here.”

Ricky was incredulous. “After six months?”

“You never know,” Tyler said, lifting the receiver and holding it to his ear. “Somebody has to be paying the bill for this phone because it’s still connected. If no one cleared the voice mail, there could still be messages. That happens in the movies, too. They must base stuff like that on some kind of fact.”

“I’m sure Roxy is paying the bill. She does come back here from time to time. I’m not sure, but I think Reba does, too. Roxy said it didn’t pay to disconnect everything, then have it all reconnected each time she or Reba comes here. All right, you work on the voice mail, and Max and I will do the file cabinet. On second thought, let’s just pack it all up and take it home with us. I feel like a sneak going through my brother’s things like this. You can work the phone end of it from home, can’t you, Tyler?”

“I don’t see why not. I’m starting to feel like a detective,” he mumbled.

“For someone with a secret life, your brother sure had a lot of files,” Max said. “Why don’t we just take the drawers? It will make it a lot easier. They’ll fit in the trunk of the Beemer.”

“Good idea. We only have to make one stop at the grocery store. I’m tired of eating out of cans, and I’m tired of eating out. I’ll grill us some steaks tonight.”

 

Gracie Lick shifted gears as she steered the Blazer up the steep, winding roads that led to Ricky Lam’s house. Suddenly she saw a dark streak flash in front of her. She slammed on the brakes, jolting Jonas, the photographer, forward. She was out of the car a second later, racing to the side of the road. “Oh, no,” she wailed. “C’mon, c’mon, I need some help here!” she shouted to the photographer. A second later, she stripped off her secondhand Armani jacket. A second after that, she yanked and pulled at her silk blouse. “Oh, you poor baby! Look, she’s so thin, and she looks starved. These must be her pups. Look, that must be the father. Oh, God, how did this happen? Easy, easy, I won’t hurt you,” Gracie crooned. “C’mere, baby, come on.”

The photographer watched as one of Gracie’s shoes slid off and rolled into the ditch the father dog was guarding. He looked down to see three sickly-looking pups. He backed up when the male dog showed his teeth.

Fearless, Gracie stretched out her hand, palm down, so both the male and female could get her scent. The female licked her hand. Tears sprang to Gracie’s eyes as she picked up the pups, one by one, and wrapped them in her jacket and blouse. She looked down at her skirt and knew it had to come off. “Quick, open the car door. They have to see we’re going to take them all with us. Move, move!”

The three pups cradled in her arms, Gracie still managed to pat the mother dog on the head. A second later, she was on her feet, the male and female dog right behind her. They looked at her, then at the open door. She tried to shoo them inside. When they didn’t move, she climbed in and scooted over on the seat. Both dogs leaped into the back with her. “Shut the door, Jonas, and drive!” she ordered.

“Yes, ma’am,” the photographer said, sliding behind the wheel. He ripped up the road going ninety miles an hour. Gracie shouted out the code to the gate. Jonas punched it in, and the gate slid open. He barreled through, his foot heavy on the gas pedal.

“Okay, this is good,” Gracie said. “Now, get out and open the door for me.”

Max, alerted to the sound of the Blazer’s engine, opened the kitchen door. “What the hell…”

Gracie ran inside, the dogs trailing behind her. “Some asshole probably dumped these dogs, and they’re starved. Call a vet. Make some food. Don’t just stand there, dammit, do it! These pups might die. They’re cold and they’re hungry. Send your brother to the store to get baby stuff! I thought I told you to move! Now!

“Tyler! Ricky! I think you better come out here!”

Tears rolled down Gracie’s cheeks. “Why in hell do I always have to do everything? Can’t you follow a simple order? Go!”

Ricky looked at the crying girl, at the pups in her arms, at the two strange dogs in the middle of his kitchen. He knew exactly what to do. “Tyler, call a vet. There’s a vet clinic about two miles from here. It’s on…Piedmont, I think. Tell him to come here right away and be sure to say it’s an emergency. Max, go to the drugstore and get baby bottles with nipples, the smallest ones you can find. Get some baby cereal. And some newborn baby formula. Burn rubber, son.”

Ricky dropped to his knees. He remembered another time, much like this one, when he’d found a stray dog with pups and taken them home. God, how he’d loved that dog, and the dog had loved him. It had hated Philly, though. He reached out to stroke both animals. “I know, you’re hungry. We’re going to fix you up all right.”

“Throw stuff in a pot and boil it. Meat, vegetables, potatoes. You’ll have to mash it up. Their stomachs aren’t going to be able to handle anything else. I don’t know how long they’ve been on the run. The pups look to be brand-new,” Gracie said. “They won’t die, will they?”

“Not if I can help it,” Ricky said as he ripped the paper off the steaks he’d just bought. He filled a pot with water and did just what Gracie told him to do. Then he ran to the linen closet in the downstairs bathroom. He returned with monogrammed, sky-blue towels that looked to be as big as tablecloths. He had a bunch of matching washcloths under his arm.

“We can’t bathe them, they’re too little. But we can clean them up and make sure they’re warm. I’ll put the towels in the clothes dryer for a few minutes so they’ll be nice and warm. Be careful now, we’ll do it here on the floor so they can see we aren’t hurting their offspring. Put them down slowly, Gracie. Wet these cloths with warm water.”

“The vet is on the way!” Tyler said happily. “Five dogs! That’s just what this place needs. I never had a dog.”

When the pups were cleaned up and wrapped into snug little bundles, Gracie looked at her dirty clothing. For the first time since her arrival, she was aware that she was in her underwear wearing one high-heeled shoe. She was glad she was wearing decent underwear even if it was a cheap store brand.

The mother dog padded over to the little mounds, sniffed and stuck her nose inside the blue towel. She lay down next to the pups, her eyes alert and watchful. The male dog sat on his haunches watching everyone.

“I’m surprised you were able to get them in the truck. But it’s obvious they trust you.”

“I can keep them, can’t I? I won’t let them ruin your guesthouse. I promise.”

“Of course you can keep them,” Ricky said.

Max blew into the kitchen like a wild gust of wind. “I got everything!” he said triumphantly. He did his best not to look at Gracie’s underwear. Gracie snatched the bag out of his hand. “Now what?”

“We’re waiting for the vet,” Ricky said. “I’m cooking what was supposed to be our dinner for the dogs. Once the vet checks the dogs and the pups, you and Tyler are going to give them a bath. Gracie and I are going to feed the pups. Believe it or not, I do know how to do that.”

“Vet’s here!” Tyler said, pressing the button that would open the gates.

He was young, probably somewhere in his midthirties. His name was Adam Sutter. If there was one thing Adam loved above all else, it was a human’s devotion to an animal. They all talked at once. If he was surprised that Gracie Lick was in her underwear, he didn’t show it. His job was the dogs.

Forty minutes later he pronounced all five dogs on the road to recovery. “You got to those pups just in time. If they can’t suck, you’ll have to use an eyedropper. I have some in my bag. It’s round-the-clock feeding.”

“We can handle it,” Ricky said.

“You bet,” Tyler said.

“Just tell me what to do,” Max said.

“I’d like to see this family in a week. I make house calls.”

“Gracie, you know your schedule, you set it up. I’ll be leaving in a few days, and Max and Tyler are heading out tomorrow.”

Gracie stood up. That’s when they all noticed her underwear. Adam Sutter smiled approvingly. “How about if I call you when we all calm down around here. Tomorrow sometime,” Gracie said sweetly.

“You could give me your phone number. I’d like to call to check on the dogs.”

“I just moved here and don’t know what it is. I will call you, though.”

“I can stay on,” Max said, not liking the way the vet was looking at Gracie.

Gracie correctly interpreted the look. She looked up at the vet, and said, “I’m a reporter, Dr. Sutter. Maybe when things calm down, we could discuss my doing a feature article on you for all the pet owners in the area.”

“I’d like that a lot. Just call me. I’m available most evenings.” He was eyeing her, openly now, and it was clear he was liking what he was seeing. Gracie smiled. Adam smiled.

Max scowled.

Adam waved good-bye when Ricky handed him some bills.

Gracie waved, her bosom heaving with gusto.

Max’s middle finger shot in the air. Behind Adam’s back, of course. Gracie didn’t miss it, though. She just looked smug.

“Ah…Gracie, I’m sorry about your clothes. I can lend you some shorts and a tee shirt. They’ll be big, but they will cover you,” Ricky said. “Max, take Gracie upstairs and find her some clothes.”

Tyler grimaced. “They’re going to end up killing each other, you know that, don’t you?”

“My money is on Gracie Lick,” Ricky said. “Who are you betting on, Tyler?”

“Gracie. I’m no fool. She’s got him wrapped. He just doesn’t know it yet.” He slapped his thigh and doubled over laughing. In spite of himself, Ricky laughed, too.

They listened, grinning from ear to ear as Gracie’s and Max’s voices carried down the back stairway.

“What, are you blind, Gracie?” Max said heatedly. The guy’s a T&A man. I should know, I’m a guy.”

“I bet you think I don’t know what that means. Well, I do, smart-ass. Just because you’re a tits-and-ass man doesn’t mean he is. I found him utterly charming. He saved those dogs. What did you do? You went to the drugstore. That doesn’t count in my book. Anyone can go to the drugstore. You’re an oaf. Now, if you’re done staring at my tits and my ass, I’d like to get dressed.”

“Don’t flatter yourself, Gracie. I’ve seen better tits on a sixty-year-old lady. As for your ass, it looks to me like it’s drooping.”

Gracie balled up her fist and let it fly. Max toppled backward with the force of the blow.

Down below, Tyler looked at his father. “Okay, she either kissed him, or she bopped him good. I think she bopped him.”

Ricky grinned as he hauled out the blender. He fished the meat and vegetables out of the pot and dumped them into the blender. His hand secure on the top, he pulsed the contents until he was satisfied with the consistency. He filled two large plates. He looked down at the dogs, who were waiting patiently. “You get it as soon as it cools.”

When Max came back downstairs, there was no doubt about what Gracie had done.

“Wow! I am impressed, Max! I bet by tonight that shiner is going to glow in the dark. I can’t believe that itty-bitty little girl hit you. You never told me you were a T&A man, Max.” Tyler was talking softly so that his voice wouldn’t carry up to the second floor, where he knew Gracie Lick stood listening.

“Shut up, Tyler. I was brought up to respect girls and women, and that means you don’t hit them even when they slug you. Let’s just forget this. Tell me what you want me to do.”

Ricky set the plates down on the floor. Both dogs watched him until he gave the signal they could eat. Starved, as he knew they were, they didn’t gobble. They licked their plates clean and waited. “More?” He filled their dishes half-full this time. Again, they licked the plates clean.

“They shouldn’t give you any trouble with the bath. The tubs in the laundry room are oversize, so you can do both of them. Warm water, not hot. Dry them thoroughly, then wrap them in the towels and let them sleep by the pups. We’ll carry the pups into the laundry room, so they can keep their eyes on them. That’s important to new mother dogs.” Authority rang in Ricky’s voice. His sons stared at him, accepting his word as gospel.

Gracie Lick entered the kitchen dressed in shorts that hung below her knees and a yellow tee shirt with the words STAR POWER emblazoned on the front and looked at the three men. “Where’s my photographer?”

“Out by the pool, where he’s been since you got here. I heard a splash a little while ago,” Max volunteered. “I hope you aren’t paying him by the hour.” Gracie ignored his comments as she trotted into the laundry room to check on the pups.

“It’s time to feed these guys. I can do it in here, while you guys bathe the mother and father. I don’t want these dogs traumatized, so let’s try to make this a lovely experience for them. In other words, screw up with these dogs, and I’ll kick your respective asses all the way to the gate.”

Ricky watched his sons scurrying about for towels and shampoo. He turned away so he wouldn’t laugh out loud. He had things to do. He said so to Gracie.

“That’s okay. I can talk to them while I’m feeding the pups. Jonas knows what I want in the way of pictures. I appreciate your letting me keep these dogs, Mr. Lam.” Honesty rang in her voice when she said, “I would have found a way to keep them if you had said no. I hate people who abuse animals.”

“I knew that.”

“On your way out, Mr. Lam, will you ask Jonas to come in with his camera. I’d like a few shots of your sons bathing the dogs. Human interest opposed to a shot of them hanging out in some bar or sitting on a Harley. Everyone identifies with dogs.”

“Do you think, Gracie, you could go a little easier on Max? I think he really likes you, but you might be intimidating him. You know, just a little.”

Gracie reared back in horror. “Are you suggesting I skew the interview, Mr. Lam? You’ve got the wrong person if you think that.”

“No, no, that’s not what I meant. I meant on a personal level. That boy-girl thing.”

“There is no boy-girl thing. Max is a…clod.”

“Is a clod one step up or down from an oaf?” Ricky asked, knowing instinctively that his gut decision to hire Gracie to do the story had been right.

“I heard that,” Max said. His eyes flashing angrily, his jaw grim as he glared at Gracie.

“Eavesdroppers never hear anything good about themselves. How does it feel, Mr. Velvet Tongue? Don’t bother telling me because I don’t want to know. Wash those dogs, they smell from being in that ditch. Be sure to put conditioner on them after you shampoo them.”

“Conditioner?” Tyler queried.

“Yes, it makes the hair soft so it doesn’t tangle.”

Ricky looked at his sons. He shrugged.

Gracie filled the three eyedroppers and placed them on a paper towel. She started to feed one of the pups, the mother dog at her side. “See, I’m just helping you out until you’re well enough to nurse them. Go ahead, sniff it, taste it if you want.” She smiled when the dog did just what she told her to do.

Max, a bottle of conditioner in his hand, thought Gracie’s smile the most beautiful smile he’d ever seen. He was about to say something nice when Gracie jerked her head in the direction of the sink. She raised one bare foot to make her point.

Max turned on the water in the laundry tub.

“Oh, you sweet little thing, you took three whole droppers.” She watched as the mother dog dropped to her haunches, her gaze on the pups. She appeared satisfied that nothing was going awry.

“What kind of dogs are these?” Tyler asked.

“I think they have some Lab, maybe some shepherd in them. Does it make a difference?” Gracie asked.

“Are you always this obnoxious?” Max demanded as he soaped the male dog’s head. “What the—”

“Smile for the camera!” Gracie said, picking up the second pup. She brought it to her cheek. He felt soft and warm. She wiggled the eyedropper into his mouth and watched while he struggled to take his nourishment. “Rinse those dogs well. Did you bring down a blow-dryer?”

“Blow-dryer?” Max said incredulously.

“They’re big dogs. How do you expect them to dry themselves? Do you want them getting sick? Blow-dryers dry hair. The dogs have hair. I rest my case.”

“Listen, you…wannabe journalist, these are your dogs. My brother and I are helping you. We-are-helping-you! Get it! We-do-not-have-to-do-this. Get it! We-are-being-kind-and-generous-with-our-time. Get it!”

“Kiss my ass, you movie star’s son. Ex-movie star. Don’t talk to me.”

“Why would I want to do a stupid thing like that?” Max blustered.

Gracie laid the second pup down and filled the three droppers for the last pup. “Because you’re stupid, that’s why. I told you not to talk to me.”

“He’s flirting with you, Gracie. The oaf thinks this is how you go about it,” Tyler said as he lifted the male dog out of the tub. “Isn’t that right, Max?” It was clear from Tyler’s tone that he knew all about the finer art of flirting.

Gracie Lick’s face turned a rich shade of pink. She concentrated on the pup in her arms.

Max didn’t deny his brother’s statement. Instead, he pulled the plug in the sink and waited for the water to gurgle down the drain. He started to fill the tub back up, checking the water to make sure it wasn’t too hot or too cold.

In the war of words, it was Max Lam 1, Gracie Lick 210, maybe 910.