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He moved his right hand to cover it.Then he met my gaze again.“Thank you.”

“My pleasure.Anytime, okay?We’re neighbors.”I injected as much enthusiasm into the word as I could.

His grin was wry.“Yeah, neighbors.”He moved his hand away, and I dropped mine.He gave me one final look before he headed inside.

I eyed Wally who’d settled on a dog bed.

He licked his paw before settling his chin on it.He gave a little snuffle, then closed his eyes.

I was glad to see the bed and the recliner Phillip had clearly been lying on were in the shade.The brutal summer sun could burn someone easily.I hoped Phillip had applied sunscreen on his exposed skin, but that was none of my business.

Too much time around my sister’s kids.

My nibblets.

I worked my way along the fence, looking for anything that might indicate how the escape artist had succeeded in getting to my yard.He couldn’t have gotten through the closed gate despite the unreliable latch, so that left the fence.

Although I expected to see he’d dug a hole or something, I found nothing.I glanced back at Wally.

He’d stretched out on his side with his big belly stuck out.Must be hard to find a comfortable position.

Speaking of comfortable…

Phillip slipped out of the house and quickly shut the sliding-glass door.“Need to keep the cool air in.”He glanced toward the sun, hesitating for a moment.He now wore sunglasses.

Then he shook his head, as if shaking off a thought, and headed my way.He held out the glass.

I took it gratefully, already feeling a drop of sweat go down my T-shirt.Unless I had a videoconference call, I dressed casually.When I visited my clients, though, I was all about the tailored suit and expensive tie.Quiet elegance.Subtle.Well, once in a while, flashy was required.I could do that too.I didn’t consider myself a chameleon because, to me, that implied not being genuine.Although chameleons weren’t likely conniving, and wow, had my mind ever gone on a tangent.I sipped.“This is delicious.”Tart, for certain, but not as bad as I’d expected.

“Did you figure out how he got out?”Phillip gestured to my place.“Front door or back?”

“Back.”

“So he didn’t escape through the gate.”Phillip met my gaze.

His glasses were shaded, but not strong enough that I couldn’t see his eyes.

I smiled.“I guess he’s an escape artist.”

“Arthur warned me.”Phillip gazed over at the little creature we were talking about.

The tiny guy was snoozing—completely oblivious to our contemplations of him.

Phillip shook his head.“I don’t know.I wasn’t asleep that long.”

I walked along the fence again, gently pushing each board with my foot.None moved.

“That’s weird.”He sipped his lemonade and winced.“Sorry.”

“For what?”

“It’s bitter.”

“Tart.”I offered a smile.“Nothing wrong with that.”

He didn’t appear convinced.

“Is anyone here?”A disembodied voice came from the other side of the gate.