Deadly Obsession. Maggie Shayne

his partner would understand. “Rachel thinks he was telling the truth.”

      “She was with you, huh?”

      “Yeah.”

      “But she’s not there now?”

      “Nope.”

      “So what did you do to piss her off?”

      “Damned if I know, bro.”

      “You thank her?”

      “For...?”

      “Shit, Mason, you really have to ask? She came to that hospital every day. Brought her work with her. Took in your boys. You telling me you haven’t thanked her?”

      “Well, of course I thanked her.”

      “You buy her a present? Flowers? Anything?”

      “Jeez, Rosie, I’ve only been home a day.”

      “Gwen says you oughtta pin a medal on her. But flowers would be just as good. Or somethin’ sweet. Maybe take her out. She’s been workin’ hard for you and those boys, partner.”

      “Yeah. Okay. I’ll try that.”

      “Not today, though. Your first day home, you better damn well be getting some rest so you can get back to work. Just let her know it’s coming. You read me?”

      “Loud and clear, partner. Loud and clear.”

      * * *

      I stared in the mirror at my brand-new bangs for a solid half hour. Myrtle kept bumping me in the calves with her head. She wanted her dinner. She wanted a walk. She wanted my attention. But instead of attending to her needs as I normally would, many and endless though they were, I was standing still, and she probably couldn’t fathom why.

      She bumped me again, harder.

      “All right, all right. Let me just—” I tweaked the bangs with my fingers, trying to decide if I loved them or hated them, and still couldn’t make up my mind. They changed my entire face, that was for sure.

      Bump!

      “Okay, Myrt.” I turned away from my apparently hypnotic reflection, bent low and rubbed her face with both hands. “I’m sorry I was ignoring you. You only just lost your best friend, and I should be showering you with affection, not primping in the mirror. If I were you, I’d bite me.”

      But she was too busy closing her eyes tight and letting me rub her wrinkly face.

      “Come on, dinnertime.”

      She raced down the stairs at the word dinner, stopping at the bottom to turn and bark up at me in a high-pitched yip that was more suited to a toy poodle than an overweight bulldog.

      I hurried to catch up and get her meal in front of her. Then I stood staring into the fridge the same way I’d been staring into the mirror. Myrt was wolfing her meal. But nothing looked good to me.

      The phone rang. Sighing, I closed the fridge and picked up the call. “Yeah?”

      “Well, that sounds morose,” Mason said. “Somebody kick your dog?”

      “Had a fight with my guy,” I said. “It was mostly my fault.”

      “Mostly?”

      “Watch yourself, Detective.”

      I felt his smile right through the phone lines. “Come over tonight. I have a surprise for the boys, and I want you and Myrt to be here when I spring it.”

      I looked down at Myrt. She’d inhaled her food in about 2.3 seconds and was looking up at me as if asking “where’s the rest?”

      “Okay,” I said. “Myrt’s missing the hell outta Josh.”

      “He’s missing her right back. But I have a solution. See you in a little while, okay?”

      He sounded excited. “Okay,” I said, and he hung up before I could ask any questions.

      So what was I supposed to think? What solution had he come up with for the problem of Joshua and Myrtle missing each other? Had he decided to stay at my place after all? I decided it was fine with me either way. I was done being hurt by his saying no. And I was done being mad at him, too. He hadn’t meant to hurt me. When had the guy ever deliberately done something like that? Never. It wasn’t in him, and I knew it.

      He was just male and, therefore, needed extra patience and understanding. Along with very clear instructions.

      Shrugging, I said, “Myrt, you want to go see Josh?”

      She spun around in a circle, then jumped at me, her front feet landing about knee high on my legs, claws digging right in.

      “I’ll take that as a yes.” I grabbed my bag, my keys and Myrt’s goggles on the way to the door, while she danced, barking, beside me. I put her in her seat and buckled her harness, then got into my own, glanced up at the mirror and startled myself.

      Oh, shit. I had bangs now. What was Mason going to make of that?

       Wow, Rache. You’ve fallen a long way, girl. A long way.

       I know, Inner Bitch. But it’s been a helluva ride.

      * * *

      “You’re here!”

      I wasn’t ready for Mason to fling the door open and greet me as if he hadn’t seen me in a month. I was distracted by my dog, who was acting oddly. Sniffing the air and then growling a little.

      He hugged me hard, and I hugged him back, and then he let me go and I said, “Something’s wrong with Myrt.”

      And he said, “Wow!”

      I realized he was staring at my new bangs. I automatically ruffled them with my fingers. “I decided I needed a change. I’m still not sure if I like it.”

      “I like it,” he said. “I like it a lot.”

      I punched him in the shoulder. “Kiss up, much?”

      “I was not kissing up.” He stepped aside, and I walked in, Myrt beside me, sniffing all the way. The hair along her backbone was all bristly.

      “Has someone new been here?” I asked. “She’s really tensing up.”

      “She’ll be okay as soon as she sees Josh,” Mason said.

      “Well, where the hell is the little runt? She’s been waiting for like ever.”

      “I sent him out with Jere to pick up our pizza.”

      I wondered if we ate way too much pizza, then decided that was ridiculous, because there was no such thing as too much pizza.

      “They’ll be back any minute. Come on, I’ve got to show you first.” He headed into the living room, and I was on his heels. Myrt followed along, but slowly, cautiously, like she was expecting something to jump out of the shadows and attack her at any second. I couldn’t make heads or tails of her tonight.

      Mason walked around behind the sofa, crouched down out of sight and then bounced upright again with the culprit in his hands. It was a tiny, wrinkly faced, pink-snouted, fat little puppy. A brown-and-white bulldog puppy, to be specific, and probably the cutest living creature I had ever set eyes on in my entire life.

      Myrtle growled deep in her throat.

      I hunkered down and hugged her. “It’s okay, Myrt. It’s a...it’s a puppy. It is a puppy, right? Not a piglet?”

      “Of course it’s a puppy. I figured it was high time Josh had a dog of his own.”

      Ouch. That really hurt.

      “And he’s been missing Myrt so much, I thought a puppy would help him get over it.” He carried the little creature around the sofa, then