Page 93 of Pretty Poison

The video continued, showing Fiona progressing from a rowdy pup to a regal lady who proudly wore her service vest. In a mock attack, the dog thwarted the aggressor and saved the day. The final demonstration showed Fiona reacting to a trainer mimicking an emotional crisis. The beauty of her intuition brought tears to Rocky’s eyes. He’d filled out the adoption paperwork two days ago and felt like he’d been holding his breath while waiting for a response. Tess’s investigation had been a very welcome distraction.

“Our application has been approved,” Rocky said. “We can go meet her to see if we’re a good fit.”

Asher scoffed. “Let’s go get our dog.”

“She’s smiling,” Asher said when the three of them walked into the pet store two hours later. They’d fallen madly in love with Fiona, and the beautiful girl seemed quite smitten with them too. “Smugly, I might add.”

“Because she knows she’s the prettiest girl in all the land,” Rocky said, looking down at the dog walking by his side. “Smartest too. Look how she’s trained you to ride in the back seat already.”

“She wants to be near you,” Asher said, wrapping his arm around Rocky’s waist. “I can’t blame her.”

They went through the store and bought anything and everything they thought she might need. They’d debated on getting a crate for Fiona, then decided to wait and see how she did without one first. Rocky had every intention of taking her to work with him, and she could sleep on a plush dog bed in their room at night.

“You know she’s not really going to sleep on that, right?” Asher said when Rocky put the bed in the cart.

“Where is she going to sleep?”

“With you,” Asher said. “I’ll probably be the one relegated to the dog bed.” He gave it a good squeeze and added, “It’s memory foam, so it might work out okay.”

Rocky laughed and kissed his cheek. “Never. Fifi and I will make room for you.”

“You better,” Asher said, then growled playfully. Fiona froze and studied him; her head cocked to the side. Asher let go of Rocky and held up his hands in peace.

Rocky’s phone rang as they were checking out. He looked at the caller ID and saw it was Queen Bea calling.

“I don’t owe you money, do I?”

“Rockford, is that any way to answer a telephone?” Queen Bea asked.

“No, ma’am.”

She huffed. “Kids these days.”

“We can start over if you’d like.”

“Who has time for that?” she grumbled. “I could die before we get to the reason for my call.”

Alarm raced through Rocky’s nervous system. “Are you ill?” Fiona sat down in front of him, bumping his free hand with her nose. Rocky stroked the top of her head and willed himself to calm down. Asher nudged him aside and slid his card into the machine to pay for their purchases. “Have you called the nurse?”

“Don’t be so dramatic, Rockford. I was teasing you. I’m not dying. I just don’t want to waste precious moments restarting phone conversations.”

Like this detour wasn’t a complete waste of time, breath, and anxiety. Rather than point it out and cause further delay, Rocky shook his head and said, “To what do I owe this great pleasure?”

“Smartass,” his nana mumbled. “You can solve the case regarding Nurse Ratchet so she’ll keep her greedy mitts off my man.”

“Your man?”

“Remember Harvey?” she asked. “It’s a good thing you didn’t take the bet. You’d be owing me a hundred and twenty dollars by now.”

Rocky laughed. “The bet was going to be forty dollars.”

“Per visit.”

“Eww,” he said. Eager to change the subject, Rocky said, “What’s this about Nurse Ratchet? You told me she quit.”

Queen Bea heaved a heavy sigh. “Rockford, the name isn’t owned by one nurse. We assign the moniker to whomever loses favor with the residents.”

“Who’s on your shit list now?”