Roses Have Thorns by Juliet MacLeod

Author:Juliet MacLeod
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Casa Cielo Press
Published: 2023-04-04T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWELVE

As I walked home, I thought about what Teresa had said about Julian and his threatening letter to Rob. Something as simple as a clerical error certainly wasn’t worth threatening a close friend, was it? I knew the world of competitive dog shows was sometimes cut-throat, but surely not between breeders who weren’t even showing the same breed of dog, let alone competing for the same kinds of awards. Julian and Rob were friends outside of the show ring; couldn’t Julian have talked to Rob about his concerns face to face? Or maybe he had tried and Rob had blown him off. Rob was stubborn, often when it was to his detriment. Teresa said that Sawyer had eliminated Julian as a suspect after she showed him letters from the AKC clearing up the error, but there must have been something awful in the letter from Julian to consider him as a suspect in the first place. I wondered what else Sawyer had found at the scene of the crime. Surely he must have other suspects by now, better suspects than one of Rob’s closest friends. What about the driver of the Yankees truck? Had Sawyer ever tracked them down?

The dogs and I arrived home just as the first flakes began falling from the sky. I sighed unhappily as I stripped out of my outer clothing and took the dogs out of their harnesses. I usually loved winter—even with the average 63 inches of snow we got every year—but I did not relish the thought of trudging through it tonight. I wanted to stay home, sit by my fireplace, and watch the weather through double-glazed windows.

I decided to do just that. I’d invite Sawyer over, make dinner, and serve it by the hearth in the living room. We could watch one of the approximately 500 DVDs I had, or stream something else if he didn’t like my choices. After building up a cheerful fire and making sure I had enough wood in the house to keep it going all night, I called Sawyer’s cellphone.

“Livingston,” he said. This time, there was no background noise. Maybe he was at the office.

“Hi. It’s June. About tonight—”

“Oh, right.” He sounded distracted. “Listen, I’m told it’s really starting to come down out there, and I’ve had a long day, so would you—”

“We can cancel,” I said, hurrying to interrupt him. I didn’t want him to be the one to cancel things. For some reason, it was vital to me that I be the one to do that. Probably something to do with my fragile ego.

There was a short silence before he asked, “Do you want to cancel?”

“Don't you?”

“No. I want to see you tonight.” My heart took off soaring; no fear of a crushed ego. “I was going to ask if you wanted to come over tonight. I’ll make dinner. Maybe. To be honest, I have no idea what’s in the kitchen at the moment. I can’t remember the last time I ate at home.”

I laughed with relief.

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