Page 153 of Secrets Along the Shore
I don’t care. It’s that good.
“Down, boy, down!” Grady’s words are undercut by his hearty laughter, negating any power they might otherwise have.
I click my tongue against the roof of my mouth once, and Bilbo sits. Bilbo isn’t just my companion. He’s a meticulously trained bodyguard. He was Daniel’s idea, but when he didn’t live long enough to see Bilbo become the finely tuned defensive weapon he’d wanted for me, I made sure to follow through with his training. When Daniel first suggested it, I thought it was unnecessary. Protection overkill. As it turned out, Bilbo gives me more peace of mind than I could have ever imagined. Especially living alone.
Plus, he’s just so stinking cute.
“Hello, stranger,” Grady says, the tantalizing scent of barbecue making my full stomach contemplate whether there’s room for more.
“You’re out here early.”
“Takes all day.” It’s the same thing he tells me every time I stumble onto him doing this, which is several times a year.
“Sophie, honey!” Ellen stands at the side door leading into their kitchen, a huge grin swallowing her petite face. She pops down the steps—she’s seventy-five with the energy of a twenty-year-old—hugs me, then leans back and puts her hands on either side of my face.
“You’re not eating enough.”
“I am, Ellen. I promise. I’m at Grace’s almost every night.”
She purses her lips, narrowing her eyes. “I’ll be checking on that.”
I chuckle. “You do that. And when you talk to her, find out tonight’s special, will you?”
“Leave the girl alone, Ellen.” I turn back to see Grady sneaking a chunk of meat to Bilbo, which I’m sure he ripped off the pork in the drum. Bilbo swallows it in a millisecond, then waits for more. Grady looks at me sheepishly. “Know it’s not on the diet, but one little bite can’t hurt.” He bends down to Bilbo, pets him, and whispers, “No more, boy. Mom says your tummy can’t take it.”
“Thevetsays his stomach can’t take it,” I say. But he’s right, one little piece can’t hurt.
“I’ll bet you’ve been busy,” Ellen says, putting her hands on her hips, “with the trial, and the poor woman they found Saturday. And then the Kurt Fogerty shooting. I hope you weren’t anywhere near that.”
I smile, knowing good and well I’m not about to tell her I ran after the shooter. “I’m a little tired, but fine.
“You’re taking time for yourself?”
“I was actually going to go on a walk this morning and decided to come say hello instead.”
Ellen nods her approval. “You let me know if I need to talk to Tommy. He’s not too old for me to sit down and straighten out.”
I have to bite my cheek to stop from laughing, because she is being dead serious. Ellen is best friends with the sheriff’s mother and babysat “Tommy” when he was little. She isn’t above telling him what’s-what if she feels she needs to—including when she thinks the sheriff’s working me too hard.
“Don’t I know it,” I say, grinning. “I wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end of that.”
“Trust me, you really don’t,” Grady says, pulling a face.
“You better be careful, then, old man,” Ellen replies, squinting at him playfully. “Sophie, I’ve got breakfast on. You want some?”
“I would, but I don’t have time. Sheriff’s working me too hard.”
I give them one last hug, then head back to my place. I’m halfway there, Bilbo trotting ahead, chasing a dragonfly, when I get a call from Deputy Investigator Mike Neeley.
“Mike? How’s it going? You knee deep in the Fogerty shooting?”
“And then some. I don’t understand what’s going on in this county. Thirty years I’ve been working and I’ve never had this many murders going on at once.”
“You found anything yet?” I ask.
“Not in my case. But I got something for you.”
My nerve endings twitch.
