Read Online Play Dead by Leslie O'Kane - Free Book Online Page A

tied. Dog ownership is a big responsibility. You don’t
need to feel guilty if it doesn’t fit in with your lifestyle.” I turned my gaze
to John. “You need to ask yourself whether or not Mugsy and your family would
be happier if Mugsy were re-homed.”
    “You think I need to give up my dog?” John
asked.
    “No, I think the first step is going to be
for you and your wife to decide if you need to give up your dog.”
    “Of course we don’t want to give her up.
Do we, honey?”
    Sarah shook her head and said, “No,” but
her body language and facial expression showed ambivalence at best.
    I rose. “Please call me at my office after
you’ve had some time to think about this and to discuss it. Let me know what
you decide. Either way, I can help.”
    Sarah sprang to her feet and shook my
hand, saying, “Thank you so much.”
    “You’re welcome.” I gave her a smile as
close to reassuring as I could muster. Some of my best friends are dog haters.
I consider this their loss, but not a personality flaw. On the other hand, none
of my friends had threatened to put a dog they didn’t happen to like to sleep. “I’ll
send you a bill for this visit, as we discussed on the phone.”
    “Why are you leaving? There’s nothing to
discuss,” John insisted. “We’re keeping Mugsy.”
    “I hope you do, but I honestly believe
this is a matter for you and your wife to decide in private. It was nice
meeting you all. I’ll talk to you soon.” I let myself out.
    I hurried to the car, where Doppler was
waiting. His brown-and-white colored face was pressed against the glass of the
front passenger seat. “Well, that was fun,” I said as I got in and petted my
dog. He got into the back as I started the engine. I wondered if Kaitlyn was
still home, sobbing. “Maybe she’d like a nice, loyal Scottish terrier,” I said,
smiling at the notion.
    Actually, I considered as I drove, Kaitlyn
had been paying more and more attention to Doppler over the last several days.
I glanced back at my classically handsome-featured cocker spaniel. Sometimes
all it took was living with a sweet, affectionate, and well-behaved dog like
Doppler to convert a non-dog person. Cuddling a dog was therapeutic—good
for the soul and infinitely better than waiting for some jerk ex-husband.
    Not ready to go home and face my
despondent housemate, I brought Doppler to my office. Doppler headed straight
through my office, through Russell’s, and into the bathroom. There were the
unmistakable sounds of Doppler’s lapping up something, which, when your dog is
in a bathroom, is generally not good news. I followed him and discovered that
the drip underneath the sink was leaking onto the floor.
    I stepped back into my office for a
container, glanced at my mayonnaise-jar vase, then looked around for something
else to use. I grabbed my coffee mug, which had a badly drawn cocker spaniel on
it—clients were always giving me dog-themed coffee mugs as parting
gifts—and stuck it under the dripping pipe attached to the cold water
tap.
    Out of curiosity, I felt the pipe, and my
fingertips measured an inch-long crack just above the joint. It would probably
cost all of a buck fifty to replace this little section of pipe, but Russell
had instead been allowing the water to drip into a jar, which he would then
dump down the drain every morning. I decided I’d spur him—or the
landlord—into action by doing a feeble, temporary repair job on it
myself.
    I grabbed a roll of Scotch tape out of
Russell’s office and awkwardly jammed myself under the sink to put a temporary
tape wad over the crack. I knew, of course, that this wouldn’t work, but Russell
would see it and be machoed into fixing it, and I’d get my coffee mug back.
Doppler took immediate interest in my actions and joined me under the sink.
    After only four orbits of tape around the
pipe, a familiar female voice called, “Anybody here?” Beth Gleason, I
thought.
    “I’m back here.” I let the tape