Page 51 of Married With Lies

Jasper wipes his mouth with a napkin. “That was a lot of blood. Is he all right?”

“Just a little accident,” I say. “He’ll be fine.”

“But what about him being your-”

“How about some more biscuits?” Peggy cuts in. “I’ve got scones too. And yesterday I made a batch of fresh blackberry jam.”

Apparently teenage boys are easily sidetracked by food. Jasper is only too happy to forget about Cale’s blood and my marital status as long as he has something new to eat.

Outside the house, everything appears normal. The sky is blue and the air is crisp. A pair of mourning doves are perched on the birdbath beside Peggy’s small kitchen garden. Some of the dogs begin barking with excitement when they hear the crunch of my footsteps. If only they knew how I’d much rather hang out with them than deal with grouchy husbands and gunshot wounds.

In my mind I start making a list of the things that need to be done today. The work on the puppy playground can wait. Cleaning out the cat quarters cannot. I’ll have to ask Peggy and Jasper for help since there’s no telling how long I’ll be busy with this current situation.

I shudder as I flash back to the sight of the hole beneath Cale’s ribs. I really really wish he’d agreed to go to the hospital. Maybe I should have overruled him.

Then I laugh at my own thought. Overruling Cale Connelly is just not in the cards.

Cale’s rental car is exactly where he left it, parked crookedly on the other side of the closed gate. The gate isn’t locked but I guess he didn’t know that. He must have hopped over the split rail fence instead.

After dragging the gate wide open, I decide the best option is to move the rental car out of the way. Getting behind the wheel is a little jarring. Not only because I’m far more accustomed to the roominess of my lumbering old pickup truck but because there are spots of blood on the leather interior.

It feels as if I’m transporting a crime scene as I ease the car very slowly over the driveway leading to the garage. I bet if cars had personalities then this flashy sports vehicle would be laughing at my forlorn old Chevy pickup with rust spots and missing hubcaps but for now the two of them get to be roommates.

There are two bags waiting in the trunk, just as Cale said. One is a shiny black hardshell spinner and the other is a plain black gym bag. The gym bag has kind of a lumpy feel to it but neither are heavy and I’m towing them to the house when I hear the screech of brakes.

Dr. Augusta Edelstein has roared through the gates in her treasured station wagon, which she has overhauled to resemble the distinctive car from the movie Ghostbusters. A cloud of dirt kicks up under the wheels when she comes to an abrupt halt twenty feet away. In all the mayhem I’d forgotten about the urgent 911 text I sent to her.

Gus barely shuts the car off before she dives out of the driver’s seat in her white lab coat, one that was embroidered with black spider webs by Peggy. She nearly topples over in her orange heels when she yanks her heavy patent leather medical bag out of the car but recovers and runs my way.

“Is it the new puppies? The littlest one had some nasal discharge on Thursday. Poor baby. Have you already separated him from the others?” Gus stops and looks me up and down, taking note of the bags I’m dragging. “Wait, where are you going?”

“Nowhere. The puppies are fine. All the animals are fine. I panicked and I dashed off that text in a hurry. I’m so sorry.”

Wisps of Gus’s dark hair have chaotically escaped from a giant clip shaped like a bat. Knowing my best friend, she dropped everything and burned rubber to get here. By the time I’m finished making all the apologies I need to make, I pray that she forgives me.

“What’s really going on?” She pushes her purple-framed glasses up her nose and starts looking around with suspicion as if the explanation might be listed on a billboard somewhere. She pauses and squints. “Is that BLOOD on the fence?”

“Probably.”

I hadn’t noticed the streak of red on of the fence rails. It must be Cale’s. Either that or there’s an epidemic of wounded creatures converging on Bright Hearts today.

I let out a sigh. “I’ll give you a quick summary on the walk back to the house. Bring your medical bag. And please don’t scream at me. My head already hurts.”

14

SADIE

“HE’S YOUR WHAT?” Gus screeches and drops her medical bag in the dirt.

There’s an eruption of barking from The Doghouse. The mourning doves conclude that this isn’t the best hangout today and take flight.

“You said you wouldn’t scream,” I remind her.

“That was before I knew you married a gunslinger and didn’t tell me.”

“He’s not a gunslinger.”

“You said he’s been shot.”

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