hurt, sue you, and end up owning this inn.”
“Not if they’re smart enough to stay away from my car,” Mac replied. “Why do you think I drive Gnarly around with me? His pleasant odor and charming personality?”
Judging by the low noise he uttered from deep in his throat before hanging his head, Gnarly picked up on his master’s sarcasm.
Out of the corner of his eye, Lance was aware of Police Chief David O’Callaghan, his arms also crossed across his chest, watching the exchange.
It was only a matter of time. Where Mac Faraday goes, Chief O’Callaghan is never far behind.
“You don’t like dogs, do you, Lance?” the police chief asked.
Giving up on pleading his case against Gnarly, Lance turned to answer. “What? Do you intend to charge me with some hate crime for defending myself against a dog that tried to bite me?”
David observed the tattered racquet. “No, I believe Gnarly came out on top of that fight. I’m talking about Sparky. Your wife’s maid told us that Kim kicked you out after you tried to poison her Yorkshire terrier.”
Lance waited for the rest of the news. Where’s the rest of it? I know you have more to tell me. So say it. I’ve been rehearsing for this moment. So give it to me and let’s have the curtain go up on my performance.
When it didn’t come, he asked, “You came out here to question me about Sparky? That was a month ago. Don’t tell me that bitch has decided to press charges against me for trying to kill her yip-yap.”
“Is that why your marriage only lasted sixty-three days?” Mac asked. “Sparky never did like you. You made no secret about you not liking him. So you decided to get rid of him.”
David said, “The vet told us that someone had fed him chocolate. That’s why his kidneys were shutting down.”
“No one has any proof that I was the one who gave it to him,” Lance said.
“Sometimes you don’t need proof to know what someone is capable or,” Mac said, “That’s why Kim kicked you out. She knew .”
David chuckled, “What did you do? Give her a choice. You or the dog. She chose the dog and gave you the boot?”
“I don’t have to take this.” With a show of bravado, Lance turned away from them to toss his racquet through the open window of his car.
Mac followed him. “Talk about ironic. You’re back to living in your little condo looking down on Kim Weathersby’s lakefront mansion where her little yorkie is sleeping on what used to be your side of the bed.”
His patience at its limit, Lance whirled around. “What is this about?”
“Kim was found dead last night.”
Lance could see the police chief studying him when he broke the news. That’s why he was there. David had to see his reaction.
Having prepared for days, Lance gave it to him. The delight he felt when he launched into his performance was similar to that of a child waking up on Christmas morning after having waited weeks for it.
Lance’s mouth dropped open. He let out a gasp. His eyes were wide when he clutched his chest while collapsing against the door of his sports car. With a sob in his voice, he asked, “Are you serious? … No … it can’t be. Kim … She was my wife. How? How did it happen?”
Yes, don’t forget to ask how it happened. They’ll notice if you don’t ask for all the details.
“The maid found her last night,” David told him. “Kim was hosting a dinner party. She had poured a martini and taken it upstairs to get ready. When the guests started arriving and she still hadn’t come down, the maid went up to check on her and found her collapsed on the floor in her dressing room.”
“Collapsed from what?” he asked.
“We’re still waiting for the autopsy results,” David said.
“Can’t be drugs,” Lance said. “Kim didn’t do drugs. She drank. She had to have her martini at four o’clock every day but she wasn’t a lush.”
He noticed Mac studying him even more closely than the police chief. Of course he would. He
“Not if they’re smart enough to stay away from my car,” Mac replied. “Why do you think I drive Gnarly around with me? His pleasant odor and charming personality?”
Judging by the low noise he uttered from deep in his throat before hanging his head, Gnarly picked up on his master’s sarcasm.
Out of the corner of his eye, Lance was aware of Police Chief David O’Callaghan, his arms also crossed across his chest, watching the exchange.
It was only a matter of time. Where Mac Faraday goes, Chief O’Callaghan is never far behind.
“You don’t like dogs, do you, Lance?” the police chief asked.
Giving up on pleading his case against Gnarly, Lance turned to answer. “What? Do you intend to charge me with some hate crime for defending myself against a dog that tried to bite me?”
David observed the tattered racquet. “No, I believe Gnarly came out on top of that fight. I’m talking about Sparky. Your wife’s maid told us that Kim kicked you out after you tried to poison her Yorkshire terrier.”
Lance waited for the rest of the news. Where’s the rest of it? I know you have more to tell me. So say it. I’ve been rehearsing for this moment. So give it to me and let’s have the curtain go up on my performance.
When it didn’t come, he asked, “You came out here to question me about Sparky? That was a month ago. Don’t tell me that bitch has decided to press charges against me for trying to kill her yip-yap.”
“Is that why your marriage only lasted sixty-three days?” Mac asked. “Sparky never did like you. You made no secret about you not liking him. So you decided to get rid of him.”
David said, “The vet told us that someone had fed him chocolate. That’s why his kidneys were shutting down.”
“No one has any proof that I was the one who gave it to him,” Lance said.
“Sometimes you don’t need proof to know what someone is capable or,” Mac said, “That’s why Kim kicked you out. She knew .”
David chuckled, “What did you do? Give her a choice. You or the dog. She chose the dog and gave you the boot?”
“I don’t have to take this.” With a show of bravado, Lance turned away from them to toss his racquet through the open window of his car.
Mac followed him. “Talk about ironic. You’re back to living in your little condo looking down on Kim Weathersby’s lakefront mansion where her little yorkie is sleeping on what used to be your side of the bed.”
His patience at its limit, Lance whirled around. “What is this about?”
“Kim was found dead last night.”
Lance could see the police chief studying him when he broke the news. That’s why he was there. David had to see his reaction.
Having prepared for days, Lance gave it to him. The delight he felt when he launched into his performance was similar to that of a child waking up on Christmas morning after having waited weeks for it.
Lance’s mouth dropped open. He let out a gasp. His eyes were wide when he clutched his chest while collapsing against the door of his sports car. With a sob in his voice, he asked, “Are you serious? … No … it can’t be. Kim … She was my wife. How? How did it happen?”
Yes, don’t forget to ask how it happened. They’ll notice if you don’t ask for all the details.
“The maid found her last night,” David told him. “Kim was hosting a dinner party. She had poured a martini and taken it upstairs to get ready. When the guests started arriving and she still hadn’t come down, the maid went up to check on her and found her collapsed on the floor in her dressing room.”
“Collapsed from what?” he asked.
“We’re still waiting for the autopsy results,” David said.
“Can’t be drugs,” Lance said. “Kim didn’t do drugs. She drank. She had to have her martini at four o’clock every day but she wasn’t a lush.”
He noticed Mac studying him even more closely than the police chief. Of course he would. He
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