Dogs and Goddesses Read online

  And she knew she lied.

  Friday morning, Daisy stood next to Vera’s grave, Noah at her side and Squash and Bailey at their feet. The last of the funeral attendees were leaving, and with no eulogy to distract them while she waited for alone time with Squash, Daisy decided to pry a little.

  “So, kind of strange about the bees, huh?”

  “Yeah,” Noah said, eyes scanning the cemetery. “Strange.”

  “I mean, what are the chances, right? All those bees descending on one town?” She looked up at him. “How do you think that might have happened?”

  He shrugged. “Good thing the beekeepers needed them. They got them all wrangled pretty fast.”

  See? He doesn’t know anything, she thought, but then wondered what she expected him to say. Kammani loosed a swarm on the town and I helped her? He wouldn’t.

  Because he was innocent and he didn’t know anything about Kammani. She was sure of it. Mostly. But the last of the mourners were finally out of sight, and she had other things to focus on.

  She handed Bailey’s leash to Noah. “Do you want to take Bailey back to your car and wait for us?” She glanced down at Squash. “There’s just a little thing that Squash and I need to do.”

  Noah shook his head. “I’m fine right here.”

  Okay. Daisy walked Squash over to the grave, knelt down, and scratched the dog behind her ears. She glanced back at Noah, then huddled next to Squash and whispered, “How ya doing, girl?”

  Squash looked at her, her eyes baleful. “She was mine.”

  “I know.” Daisy pulled the small green quilted sachet she had put together the night before out of her pocket and held it up in front of Squash, who gave it a light sniff.

  “Lavender,” Squash said.

  “Good nose,” Daisy whispered.

  “Dog,” Squash explained simply.

  “Vera liked herbs, and lavender helps you rest.” She held the sachet up and turned it in her hands. “It’s also got a little bit of vitamin powder, for strength. And I put in a fiber supplement—inside joke. Laughter’s important. And that paw print I got from you yesterday? It’s in there, too.” Daisy scratched Squash behind one ear. “I thought maybe you could … if you want to, you don’t have to … I thought you could bury it with her. You know.” She met Squash’s eye. “To say good-bye.”

  Squash stared at her for a long moment, and Daisy thought that maybe she’d screwed up. “You don’t have to. It was just that a funeral is closure for people, but for a dog, I didn’t know if it would have any meaning. I thought maybe—”

  Squash took the sachet between her teeth. Daisy straightened, stepping back to give Squash privacy as she dug a small hole in the fresh dirt, directly over Vera’s heart. Squash dropped the sachet in and buried it, whining a little as she did, but Daisy tried not to listen to what she said. When Squash was done, she returned to Daisy, and Daisy took her leash.

  “I’m yours now,” Daisy said.

  “I don’t fetch,” Squash barked.

  “Good,” Daisy said. “Me neither. You like The Office?”

  She looked up to find Noah still watching her, a curious expression on his face. Daisy tucked her hand in the crook of his arm and they made the trip back to the coffeehouse in silence.

  “Squash!” Bailey barked as they all entered the kitchen together. “Squeaky toys in the courtyard! Let’s go!”

  “All right,” Squash sighed, and followed Bailey out to the back while everyone else went into the front where the tables were.

  “Where’s Gen?” Daisy asked.

  “Lunch with Bun and Christopher,” Abby said, an edge in her voice as she said Christopher’s name.

  Daisy sat down next to Sam, who took up two places on his own.

  “Jesus, you’re big,” she said.

  “Different god,” Abby whispered as she placed a platter of cinnamon cookies in the center of the table.

  “But still a god.” Shar took a cookie, looked at Sam, and bit into it deliberately and with intent, and Sam grinned at her.

  Noah took that in stride, Daisy noticed. He takes everything in stride, she thought, but still her shoulders tensed.

  “Hey, Noah,” she said, “would you grab my sweater for me, please? It’s in the kitchen.”

  “If you’re cold, I can turn down the—,” Abby began, but Daisy cut her off with a look, and Abby regrouped. “The AC’s stuck.”

  “I’ll be right back.” Noah got up and headed for the kitchen. Daisy waited until he was gone, then leaned in and looked at Sam.

  “So, Sam, we haven’t really had a chance to chat. What the hell did Kammani do to Vera?”

  Sam lost his smile. “It wasn’t Kammani.”

  “Could it be the tonic? What’s in that stuff anyway?”

  Shar shook her head. “It wasn’t the tonic.”

  “It was just her time,” Sam said to Daisy.

  “I don’t think so,” Abby said, but then Noah came through the kitchen door, Daisy’s sweater in his hand.

  “No goddess stuff in front of Noah,” Daisy whispered, and Abby said, “You haven’t told—?” and Daisy said, “I will,” in a harsh whisper that shut the conversation down.

  Noah gave Daisy her sweater and sat down, and everyone went stiff and quiet around the table. Noah glanced around from face to face, and Shar nudged the platter of cookies toward Noah. “Have a cookie.”

  “Thanks.” Noah reached out and took a cookie, and there was another long, awkward silence as he bit into it. He chewed slowly as he realized everyone was staring at him, then swallowed and looked at Daisy.

  “Oh, hell,” Daisy said. “Kammani’s a goddess. Sam’s a god. Abby and Shar and I are some kind of kick-ass ancient goddess sisterhood of three. We have powers, and we can hear dogs talk.”

  Noah stared at her. Just stared. No shock, no surprise, no choking on his cookie. Ice shot down Daisy’s spine as she came face-to-face with the reality she’d been secretly dreading all along: He already knows.

  “Maybe you two should … ?” Abby said, motioning toward the kitchen.

  “Yeah. Maybe we should.” Daisy stood up and led the way through the kitchen and out to the courtyard, where the dogs met them at the door, tails wagging.

  “Treats!” Milton barked.

  “I got nothing,” Daisy said, holding up empty hands. “Scoot.”

  Bowser and Wolfie headed to the far corner with Milton, but Bailey stayed, his tail wagging slow and low as he watched Daisy and Noah with concern in his eyes. Squash, who was curled up in a sunny patch by the wall, simply lifted her head.

  “It’s okay, Bail,” Daisy said. “Go.”

  “Ball!” Bowser barked, and Bailey turned and ran over to them. Daisy watched them for a moment, not wanting to start the conversation, because once it started, there’d be no turning back.

  “Daisy?”

  She turned to see Noah looking at her, his expression wary.

  “You were saying?” he prodded.

  “Right. To recap. I’m a goddess.”

  Noah nodded. “Okay.”

  “Oh my god,” Daisy said. “ ‘Okay’? Are you kidding? Don’t you have questions? Don’t you want proof?” Please want proof. Please don’t already know everything.

  “Do I want proof?” Noah said, staring at her like she was nuts, but then he just shrugged. “Sure. Okay. Prove you’re a goddess.”

  “Okay.” Daisy glanced around at the menagerie in the corner. “Come here, Bowser.”

  Bowser lumbered over and barked, “What?”

  “Noah’s going to whisper a word in your ear; then you tell me what it is.”

  Bowser did the dog version of a shrug, then looked at Noah. Noah glanced at Daisy, tentative, and Daisy motioned encouragement.

  “Go ahead.”

  Noah took Bowser aside and said something to him; then they both walked back.

  “What’d he say?” Daisy asked Bowser, and Bowser barked, “Buttgig!” and Daisy turned to Noah and said, “What