Part 237 (2/2)

doorway. ”Yes.” Her stomach muscles slowly unknotted. ”You've bought a

house,” she said and felt foolish immediately. ”It's a pretty

neighborhood.”

Before she could step inside, Conroy raced to the door. He intended to

bolt, to roll around in the dirt and gra.s.s until he'd rid himself of the

undignified and all too human scent of shampoo.

”Hold it!” Michael snapped.

That wouldn't have stopped him, but Emma's soft purr did. ”Oh, you have

a dog.” She crouched to rub his head. ”You're a nice dog, aren't you?”

Since Conroy was disposed to agree, he sat down and let her scratch his

ears. ”Yes, such a nice dog. Such a pretty dog.”

No one had ever accused him of being pretty. Conroy mooned at her with

the one eye that showed beneath his hair, then turned his head to sneer

at Michael.

”Now you've done it.” Michael took her hand to help her to her feet.

”He'll expect to be complimented on a regular basis now.”

”I always wanted a dog.” Conroy leaned against her slacks, the picture

of devotion.

”I'll give you fifty bucks to take this one.” When she laughed, Michael

drew her inside.

”This is nice.” She turned around the room, comforted by the sound of

the dog's nails on the floor behind her.

A big gray chair looked cushy enough to sleep in. The couch was long

and low, inviting afternoon naps. He'd tossed an Indian blanket in gray

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