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" W hat?" I stared at Mr. Ellison in horror. "The alligator got our puppy?"

He nodded, his whole body shaking. At that exact moment, I realized just how frail he really was.

"Here. You need to sit down. This has been a terrible morning, and you might be in shock," I said, and led him over to the chair in reception, trying to ignore the huge gouge taken out of the side of my brand-new couch.

The alligator-bite-sized gouge.

Would my insurance cover alligator damage?

Do I even have insurance? I need Max.

Forget Max. I want my puppy.

I sank down on the floor next to the couch and buried my face in my hands. I could only be brave for so long, and the idea of my beautiful Daisy being a snack for that monster was the very last straw. I broke down and cried like a baby.

I don't even know how long I cried, but finally somebody touched my arm and started licking my face.

"What?" My eyes flew open. It was Daisy!

I grabbed her and rained kisses on her furry little head. "Mr. Ellison! It's her! It's her! The alligator didn't get her!"

He jumped out of his chair and squatted down next to us. "You brave little puppy! Where did you go? Hiding under the couch, I bet! Didn't I tell you that this was the smartest dog in the world?"

He rubbed her head, and I tickled her tummy. Then we did a sort of snuffly group hug right there on the floor. Naturally, that's when the guy in charge of the alligator people walked back into my office.

Too emotionally drained to be embarrassed, I simply handed Daisy to Mr. Ellison and stood up, scrubbing at my face. Good thing I'd gone with no mascara, or I'd have looked like a tall, blonde raccoon.

"I see you found your dog. That's great, ma'am. Can you tell me how an alligator got in your office?"

I blinked. "You're kidding, right? How the heck would I know how somebody got a ten-foot alligator in my office? That thing must have weighed a thousand pounds," I said. "Wouldn't somebody notice something like that?"

The man grinned. "Well, actually, she was around five feet, and maybe five hundred pounds, but still pretty damn big to sneak in under a body's hat, ma'am."

I looked at him, dazed, and said the first thing that popped into my mind (this is never a good idea). "Why in the world would you want to work at a job like this?"

He looked startled, and then he laughed. "For the chance to rescue beautiful damsels in distress like you, ma'am."

"Call me December," I said. I had to admire a man who could flirt with danger —and then flirt with me — all in the space of thirty minutes.

Why is it I only attract lunatics these days?

Speaking of lunatics, the door swung open and Jake stood in the doorway, scanning the room. "What in the hell did you do now?" he asked, shaking his head and smiling.

I rolled my eyes and turned back to the alligator guy. "Thank you so very much. If you find out anything – anything at all – about how it got in here, will you please let me know?"

As we walked over to the door, I scooped my purse up off the floor and dug for a business card to give him. "Please call me if you can figure out who put this amphibian in my office."

Jake ambled over. "Reptile."

"What?"

"Alligators are reptiles," he said, putting an arm around my shoulder.

The alligator guy's eyes narrowed a little, then he grinned. "Oh, it's like that, huh? Well, I guess I'll keep that lunch invitation to myself, December. Nice to meet you, anyway."

I shook Jake's arm off my shoulders, rolling my eyes at the testosterone in the room, then peered out the front door, to where the animal handlers had already wrangled the monster up into a crate in the back of a big truck. "It's nice to meet you, too. I hope you won't be offended if I admit I hope I don't need your professional services again," I said, smiling weakly.

"Nope. I get that a lot. We'll take this big girl on down to St. Augustine, to the alligator farm there. The curator will know what to do with her," he said.

"I'm glad somebody will," I said. "Thank you again."

As the alligator truck drove off, a tired-looking brown sedan drove up and pulled into the parking space next to Jake's black Mustang. Lieutenant Connors climbed out, notebook in hand. "I hear you've got a pest problem?" he said.

My shoulders slumped. "You have no idea."

I spent half an hour with the lieutenant, but other than the rather obscure connection I mentioned between the sinus stalker who asked how to spell Claritin and the fact that Yankee was misspelled (which neither Connors nor Jake took seriously), I hadn't a clue.

Suddenly, I looked at Jake. "The security cameras! You said you put cameras in!"

He looked grim. "I did. That's why I'm here. Wrench reported the camera feed went down just after six this morning. Since I knew you were home safe in bed, I didn't rush right over to check it out. So this is really my fault."

I shook my head. "No, it's not your fault. Except – hey! What do you mean you knew I was safe in bed? Are you spying on me, too?"

He ignored me and walked over to sit down next to Mr. Ellison. They started talking in low tones. I was pleased that Mr. Ellison looked better. He had a little pink back in his cheeks. He was still clutching poor Daisy as if her life depended on it. He nodded at something Jake said, then pulled the thin pink leash out of his pocket, snapped it on Daisy's collar, and headed outside. Daisy growled at the carpet, snuffling everywhere, all the way across the floor.

"I'm gonna take the miracle pup here outside for a potty break," he said. "Then I'd appreciate a ride. Don't much feel like driving."

Driving . . . something about the parking lot . . .

"Bear!" I said, then wished it hadn't been out loud. All three of the men stared at me.

"There was a bear, too? Besides the alligator?" Connors said, making one of those "you've got to be kidding me," faces.

"No, Bear Anderson, my client. He, um, he stopped by last night, and he was kind of weird. Plus, he knew about my glass collection when he's never been in my house. I was a little creeped out, and he got upset with me."

I quickly filled them in, trying not to notice I just . . . you don't think he'd do something like this?" I looked at Mr. Ellison, the only one of them who knew Bear.

He pursed his lips, thinking, then nodded. "Oh, yeah. That glass thing. Don't worry about that. He called here to the office about getting you a present, and him and Max had a big long talk about glass and horses and chalkboards or something."

Now it all made sense, and I felt bad for my suspicions about poor Bear. "Chalk horses?"

"Yeah, that was it," he said, then he walked outside with Daisy.

"Okay, strike Bear off the list. He got the info about me from my office manager," I said. "December Vaughn, Queen of the Paranoiacs, I guess."

Jake shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans. "You've got good reason to be paranoid these days," he observed.

I smiled weakly. "Yeah. People really are out to get me."

By the time Mr. Ellison and Daisy came back inside, mission accomplished, Connors was ready to go. "You have my number," he said. "Call me if you have questions."

"What now?" Jake asked. "Do you want me to take you home?"

"No, we need to go eat barbecue down to the Seniors," Mr. Ellison said.

I looked at Jake and shrugged. "I don't have any better ideas. It's not like I want to hang out here."

As we locked the door and headed for our cars, I looked at Jake. "I just have one question."

He opened the passenger door of his car for Mr. Ellison. "What is it, Vaughn?"

"Do you know anything that will get alligator pee out of a carpet?"