After her flirting break, Lucy worked steadily until 4:00. She had sent the revised brochures on Thursday, as she’d planned, but of course, there was always one person signing off on these projects who had to rattle your cage, just to show they could.

  Lucy had worked in plenty of offices. She should have remembered. It was never over until the fat lady sang. But not before she called to complain about—for instance—changing the photos they had all been looking at for weeks. Lucy had received those very instructions during her last phone call with the company.

  “And the little boy sitting on his mom’s lap, blowing bubbles? Well, we all thought he had a really funny expression. And he was squinting.”

  Did you ever see a kid blow bubbles who didn’t have a funny expression?

  Of course, Lucy did not reply with that question.

  She simply hung up the phone, took a deep breath, and charged into the dangerous depths of Internet image banks. Hours later—hungry, thirsty, and feeling as if her butt had gone numb—she emerged with one photo that fit the budget and satisfied the critique.

  In fact, it was just what they deserved, she decided, showing a child with pop eyes and cheeks puffed out like Titan, god of the sea, about to whip up a typhoon.

  But definitely not squinting.

  She honestly had not meant to head over to the animal hospital so close to 5:30 that it might appear to Matt McDougal she’d purposely timed her visit with Tink so she could see him. It was just the way the day had worked out.

  She had to shower and wash her hair, didn’t she? It was Friday night. Maybe she’d go out for a drink with Maggie, or catch a movie…or something.

  After a brief chat with the receptionist, Lucy was led to a back room by a vet tech. A chorus of barking grew louder as the door was opened and Lucy was led inside. It was a bare clinical-looking room with another metal table in the middle. The walls were lined with cages like cubicles, most of them occupied by dogs or cats, though she did spot a large lop-eared rabbit hunkered down in the corner of one cage.

  She saw Tink right away in a cubby near the door, on the upper level.

  “Hey, Tink. How are you, sweetie?”

  The dog lay on her side. She stared at Lucy and beat her big tail but didn’t respond much otherwise. Lucy felt a wave of concern.

  “She’s a little groggy. We sedated her so she doesn’t pull out the IV,” the veterinary technician explained.

  Lucy saw the line attached to the dog’s front leg. She nodded, her gaze fixed on Tink. She still didn’t like to see the sweet hound looking so weak.

  The vet tech checked a few of the cages and made notes on a clipboard, then left the room. There didn’t seem to be anything she could do for the dog, but Lucy didn’t want to leave her so quickly. She stayed close to the cage and spoke in a soft comforting tone. She poked her finger through the wire door and stroked Tink’s paw.

  “I know you don’t feel well right now, but you’re going to be just fine in a day or two…”

  The dog wiggled her head close to the grate and Lucy touched her fur through the openings. She was probably confused and lonely here after hanging out in Amanda’s dog pack. She was probably scared, Lucy realized.

  Lucy heard the door open again and looked up to see Matt McDougal. He’d exchanged his denim shirt and animal pattern tie for a surgical green scrub top and was looking very doctor-ish. A patch of dark chest hair showed at the top of the V-neck and Lucy vainly fought off a wave of some medicinal-scented aphrodisia that filled the air.

  He smiled at her, then peered into the cage. “How’s Tink doing?”

  “I’m not sure. I know she’s on sedatives, but she looks so listless. Is that all right?”

  “She’s stable. But she can’t stay like this for too much longer.”

  He grabbed a stethoscope off the metal countertop, then opened the cage and listened to Tink’s heartbeat.

  When he was done, he held the cage door open for Lucy. “Want to pet her?”

  Lucy nodded, surprised by the offer. “Just watch the IV,” he warned.

  She quickly stepped over and reached inside the cage. She gently pet Tink on her head and chest. Matt stood close, watching her, but she tried not to notice. Tink lifted her head and licked Lucy’s hand. Lucy wondered if the dog remembered her.

  Finally, she drew back and let him lock the crate again.

  “She’s been through so many changes the last week or so. I hope she doesn’t just give up and fade away on me,” Lucy confided.

  “Don’t worry, she’s hanging in there. Dogs are pretty resilient and flexible. Unlike most people.” He put the stethoscope aside, his expression more serious. “But the blockage isn’t moving or breaking down, as I’d hoped. We need to talk about an operation.”

  “I remember you said that was a possibility.”

  “I can take care of her tomorrow morning. It shouldn’t take long. We’ll put her under, of course. You’ll need to sign some forms at the front desk. If everything goes well, we can send her home on Monday. How does that sound?”

  “It sounds like a good plan. I mean, there’s really no other choice at this point, right? She can’t stay like that forever.”

  “No, she can’t. There’s danger of infection and blood poisoning.”

  That sounded pretty awful to Lucy. She wished he could operate right away. The alarming thought must have showed in her expression.

  Had she rescued Amanda’s dog just to see the poor creature waste away? Lucy felt a pang of guilt, feeling sure that Amanda was out there somewhere, watching this situation unfold, no doubt none too pleased.

  The poor woman was murdered, her head bashed in, her killer still on the loose, and Lucy couldn’t even offer a little peace to Amanda’s restless soul by saving one of her beloved dogs.

  “Don’t worry.” Matt lightly touched her arm. “Tink isn’t at that stage yet and we have her on antibiotics, as a precaution.”

  Lucy nodded. She glanced at her watch, even though she didn’t have anywhere particular to be. “I guess I’d better go. Should I call at any special time to see how the operation went?”

  “I’ll call you when it’s over. Can I reach you at the home number?”

  The question was logical. Why did she feel he was poking around to see if there was some reason she wouldn’t be home early on a Saturday morning? Or wouldn’t be home yet.

  “Um, sure. I’ll be around. I think I also gave the receptionist my cell number.”

  “Okay.”

  Lucy hitched her purse strap over her shoulder. “Okay, well…good luck tomorrow.” Lucy smiled briefly.

  “Don’t worry, it will go fine. I guess I’m curious to see what she swallowed. You can’t tell from the X-rays, unless they’ve swallowed something solid, like a coin or a rock. All I can see is the gas patterns. We don’t have a clue.”

  “I’d rather not go there, if you don’t mind,” she warned him.

  He laughed and smiled as she slipped out the door.

  He seemed to find her amusing, even when she wasn’t especially trying to be. That was encouraging. Her ex-husband rarely seemed to get her jokes. Though that was really the least of their problems.

  Lucy stopped at the front desk on her way out and was given a few forms to sign, giving permission for Tink’s operation.

  As she handed the sheets back, she started to worry again about the dog. Silly, she hadn’t even taken the dog home yet but she still felt attached.

  Dr. Matt McDougal must do this procedure all the time, she assured herself. So on Saturday mornings he was in here, bright and early, eager to dissect dog bowels. Did that mean he wasn’t in a relationship, either? Probably a good sign, Lucy thought, holding her battered optimism in check.

  Lucy drove down Main Street and parked near the Black Sheep. The shop usually stayed open on Friday nights fairly late, especially if Maggie held a class, which usually started at 8:00 and went until 10:00 or even later. Lucy remembered that there was going to be a class on intarsia knitting tonight, a fancy name for using two or more colors, knitting an argyle or Fair Isle pattern, for instance.

  Lucy had not been tempted to take the challenge and was content right now to take on one strand at a time.

  The shop door was open and she walked in to find most of the front rooms filled with boxes. She looked inside an open carton and saw skeins of yarn. Phoebe was carrying a box into the storeroom. Maggie was at the oak table, writing on a box top with a thick black marker. She paused and waved as Lucy walked back.

  “Stock from the Knitting Nest. The first wave, anyway. Peter wanted me to get it out ASAP,” she explained. “Phoebe and I packed up all we could this afternoon and he brought it over in his truck. That was nice of him, I thought.” She straightened up and snapped the top back on the marker. “He’s bringing some more this weekend and throwing in some shelving, too. I’m going to put it up in the storeroom.”

  “Murdered my wife…everything must go…” Phoebe sang out from the storeroom.

  “You’re a very twisted young woman…but amusing,” Lucy called back. She heard Phoebe snicker, then turned to Maggie. “I think you got the best of that deal. Look at all this. It didn’t seem like half as much in the store.”

  “It wasn’t. He found more boxes of yarn at home and upped the price a bit,” Maggie reminded her.

  Lucy remembered now Maggie had mentioned that last night. “Right…her private, private stash…”

  “Some of that is primo,” Maggie confided. She sighed, perhaps feeling a wave of guilt or conflict at the strange turn that had placed this bounty at her doorstep.

  “Oh…and Peter gave me a box for you, too.” Maggie stepped around some cartons, then chose one and put it down near Lucy’s feet.

  Lucy lifted the flaps and saw that it was filled with small knitted garments. She reached in and pulled one up. She thought it was a baby sweater at first, a bright pink turtleneck covered with small hearts. Then she realized by the shape and armholes it was for a dog.

  “These are…dog sweaters?”

  Maggie nodded. “Looks like it. I think Amanda sold a ton of them. Guess he figured you could use them for Tink.”

  Lucy crouched down and dug around in the box. “She’ll have a bigger wardrobe than I do.”

  Most of the sweaters wouldn’t fit Tink. They were either too large or too small. Lucy figured she’d pull out one or two and then donate the rest. Maybe to the Harbor Animal Hospital? So far Dr. McDougal hadn’t charged her a cent.

  Phoebe had returned. “How’s your dog doing?”

  “Oh…not so well. The vet is going to operate tomorrow, to remove the blockage in her stomach. I just went to see her,” Lucy added. “She looked weak.”

  “That’s too bad. I hope the operation goes well…. You look nice,” Maggie noticed. “Do you have plans?”

  Maggie’s diplomatic way of asking if Lucy had a date.

  Lucy shook her head. “Nope, just thought I’d take a shower and wash my hair. Basic hygiene.”

  Okay, she’d done a little more grooming than that.

  “You clean up well,” Phoebe teased. Phoebe gave her a look. Lucy figured Phoebe had guessed something might be going on, but she hesitated to tell her friends about her interest in Matt.

  “Josh and I are going to Newburyport. His band has a gig at Gunther’s. Want to come?” Phoebe’s boyfriend, Josh, played bass guitar in a band called Error Messages, which pretty aptly described their music, in Lucy’s opinion.

  “Thanks, but I think I’ll pass. I’m just going to stick around town.”

  “Not a problem. Except that I’m getting this feeling you’re holding out on us…. Are you sure you’re not going out tonight? Doing one of those speed date things again?”

  “I am not. And that was speed dating for single knitters…and I didn’t even go,” Lucy corrected her.

  “Well…something’s up,” Phoebe countered. “Hair product, perfume,” she added, moving close enough to sniff. “And the icing on the cake, a push-up bra.”

  “I am not wearing a push-up bra. I don’t even own one.”

  Lucy realized Phoebe was just not used to seeing her in a real bra. Most of her lingerie—comfort fit from Target—looked like an Ace bandage wrapped around her breasts.

  “Okay, if you say so,” Phoebe tartly conceded. “I still say something’s up…besides your chest, Lucy.”

  “Phoebe, give the poor woman a break,” Maggie interrupted. “Can’t she put on some perfume without getting the third degree?”

  Now she was looking at Lucy, too.

  “Does it smell too strong?” Lucy tried to smell herself, which was fairly impossible.

  Had she seemed this obvious to Matt? Maybe he’d thought she was going out on a date after visiting Tink?

  “I get it.” Phoebe nodded, the lock of magenta in her dark hair bobbing up and down. “It’s the veterinarian. The one taking care of your dog. Right?”

  Maggie looked at Lucy with interest. She and Phoebe were both staring at her now and Lucy just nodded.

  “Okay. I’m busted. It’s the vet.”

  “I knew it. I could tell when you mentioned him the other night. Dana said he was cute and you didn’t say anything. I just knew from the look on your face,” Phoebe said.

  “Pretty good, maybe you should be helping the police with their murder investigation,” Lucy granted her. She sat down in an armchair, feeling found out. It was actually a relief. “Do I really have on too much perfume? I hate that.”

  “After what he smells all day, I don’t think you need to worry about it,” Maggie told her.

  Phoebe drew closer. She wanted all the details, Lucy could tell. “So? What’s he like? Did he ask you out yet?”

  “Oh…it’s just a lot of…meaningful looks so far. Or maybe they’re actually meaningless looks and I’m reading into all this stuff?” she amended. “I don’t even know if he’s single.”

  “Ever think of asking him?” Phoebe suggested.

  “What fun would that be? He doesn’t wear a ring,” she added as a hopeful note.

  Maggie met her gaze. She knew what she was thinking—that didn’t mean anything. “How old is he?”

  “Oh, in his midthirties. Around my age.”

  “Why don’t you just ask him out? Next time you see him, just do it,” Phoebe encouraged her. “You’ll find out pretty fast if he’s interested in you.”

  Lucy didn’t answer right away.

  “I guess I could,” she finally said.

  Lucy glanced at Maggie, expecting some backup. But Maggie just cast her a wistful smile.

  Lucy noticed Maggie wasn’t offering any advice or strategy. Maggie did date from time to time, but it was usually some man she met totally by chance, who liked her more than she liked him. And it never went very far.

  She seemed pretty content without a long-term relationship. Bill had been the love of her life and Lucy knew Maggie didn’t expect to meet anyone again who would come close to replacing him.

  Lucy sighed. “It’s just a real change to meet someone really attractive who I actually like. It’s nice to feel some…connection, you know? I don’t know that anything is going to happen, though.”

  Phoebe gave her a blank stare. “Get a grip, Lucy. That is such a defeatist attitude.”

  Maggie turned to Phoebe. “Lucy knows what to do. I think she can figure it out.”

  Phoebe didn’t say anything for a moment. “Sorry to be so annoying. I had to ask Josh out the first time. He would have never made a move on me otherwise. He said I intimidated him, can you believe that?”

  Lucy and Maggie glanced at each other. Lucy didn’t say anything.

  “Men are like timid woodland creatures, Lucy,” Phoebe told her. “Live large, okay? Take no prisoners.”

  “Uh, okay.” Lucy smiled at Phoebe, who she knew meant well. But life had seemed simple to her, too, when she was Phoebe’s age. Oh, to be so young and bold, so sure of yourself. Hanging out in bars and listening to bad music. Writing papers about Kant.

  Phoebe fluffed her hair. “Time to tart myself up. Later, guys.”

  Once Phoebe left, Maggie pushed a box aside with her foot. “Enough talk about men. How’s your knitting going? How are those hats coming along?”

  “I’m getting there.” Lucy had made some progress last night at Suzanne’s. “That reminds me, I have something for you.” Lucy sat down and pulled out a manila envelope from her big purse. “The photos from the book signing. I printed them out today. And here’s your camera back.”

  “Oh…thank you.” Maggie quickly pulled open the envelope and sat down to go through the pictures. “Some of these aren’t bad, considering I was so rattled after the news about Amanda. My hands were shaking so much I’m surprised everything isn’t a big blur.” She looked through a few more and started to separate out the ones she liked. “Guess I’ll hang some on the bulletin board…and send a few to Cara.”

  “How is she doing? Is she out on the book tour?”

  “I really don’t know. I haven’t heard from her. I don’t think the book tour has started yet. She’s probably still in Boston. She’s really a very busy girl.”

  So I’ve heard, Lucy wanted to say. The Knit-Purl Princess couldn’t be bothered to give Maggie a call after the book signing. But she caught herself just in time. It had only been a week ago. That wasn’t very long.

  “I found a few pictures of the flowers on Cara’s jacket and enlarged them for Dana,” Lucy told Maggie.

  Lucy opened her purse and pulled out another envelope, filled with shots showing the felted flowers. She’d thought the blowups should definitely help Dana figure out the pattern.

  “Dana is coming for the class. She should be here any minute. I found the yarn she needs. It’s in one of these boxes. I forgot which…” Maggie jumped up and started poking through the boxes again.

  Lucy wrote Dana’s name on the envelope and left it in the middle of the tea table. Then she stood up and slipped on her jacket.

  “You’re not staying?” Maggie asked. She stood up, two dark red skeins of fine-gauge wool in her hands.

  “I’ll pass, thanks. I have enough trouble working with one strand. I don’t want to be traumatized.”