Page 58

Story: The Lemon Drop Kid

“Dane County.”

“What?” I raised my head, stared up at him. “You’re telling me she ran all the way to Dane County?”

He had been smiling a little, watching us, but his expression hardened. “She was dumped on the side of the road. Animal Control finally managed to catch her. I was the one who took her to be chipped, so my name was on her registration.”

“She…”

“The car was caught on security footage. The license wasn’t captured, but the vehicle was a Chevy Tahoe.”

“Malcolm?”

“That’s how it looks.” He reached down to me.

“Butwhy?” I kissed Freyja’s nose, took Raleigh’s gloved hand, and he pulled me to my feet.

“I guess he didn’t want her around.”

“I don’t understand. What the hell didFreyjaever do to him?” My voice wobbled. Of all the things that Malcolm had done, no lie, that seemed the absolute cruelest.

“Maybe she was too much of a reminder. Of Astrid. Of you. Of everything he didn’t want to think about. I’m just grateful as hell he didn’t shoot her and bury her behind the kennels.” He saw my expression and said, “Hey, hedidn’tdo that. He probably even thought dropping her off was the kinder option.”

“Jesus Christ, thatbastard—” The next moment Freyja tried to vault into my arms, and Raleigh managed to grab us both before I fell back in the snow.

“Oh-kay. Maybe we should take this inside.”

It was nice to be in his arms, even for that short moment, even sharing that comforting hold with sixty-five pounds of enthusiastic dog. Raleigh smiled that little half-smile, gray eyes gazing down at me. He reached out and brushed my cheek. He said gently, “Are those snowflakes or tears?”

Even though his hand was gloved, I felt that touch in every pore of my face. “Beats me.”

“You got her back, honey. She’s home.”

I don’t think he even noticed that little word slipped out.

“Yeah, thank you.”

He said ruefully, “I didn’t do a whole hell of a lot.”

Freyja seemed to disagree, wriggling up to lick his face.

“Okay, I have to put you down. You’re going to kill us both.” I dropped her and she scrambled up, racing ahead, barking like a maniac, then circling back toward us. That had nothing to do with her recent trauma; she’d always been crazy.

Raleigh and I continued toward the cottage, boots crunching snow.

After a moment, he said, “So, you’re Bredahl’s new director.”

“Yeah, well, there’s nobody else left.”

He shook his head. “You never gave yourself any credit, Caz. You were a good VP. The employees thought the world of you.”

“Ohplease. The boss’s kid brother. What are they going to say?”

“You’ll be a great director. You’re ten years older than Astrid was when she took charge, and she trained you. You’ll do fine. People are thrilled.”

“I guess even I’m preferrable to a murdering embezzler.”

“See, that’s my point,” he said solemnly, and I laughed. Raleigh put his arm around my shoulders. “Seriously. How are you doing?”

I said, “Are you being polite? Or do you actually care? Because you couldn’t get out of here fast enough on Saturday.”