Dogs and Goddesses Read online

  Abby leaned forward and said, “Beetlejuice!” delighted to find another fan.

  Daisy looked confused. “Not The Wizard of Oz?”

  Shar shook her head. “Nope, sorry, Beetlejuice. A cinematic masterpiece. You’ll have to come over and watch it—”

  Her voice broke off and she looked surprised at what she’d just said, but Abby thought, That would be fun. Movie night with the girls. She lifted her cup. “I’ll be there. As the undead one would say, ‘Let’s turn on the juice and see what shakes loose.’ ” She looked in her cup. “Except I’m out of juice.”

  “I haven’t touched this yet,” Shar said, holding out her cup. “I’ll share.”

  “Me, too, please,” Daisy said, holding out her cup. Shar said, “Absolutely,” and divided her cup among the three of them. “Because We Shall Be Friends.”

  Daisy giggled. “Hell, I can always do with some friends. And Abby’s new in town—she needs friends, too.” She knocked her paper cup against Shar’s with an ineffective thunk. “All for one and one for all.” She tapped Abby’s as well, and they all drank the remnants.

  “You will take tonic with you,” Kammani said, suddenly before them again.

  Abby inhaled her drink in surprise and coughed as Shar started and Daisy said, “Crap, you scared me.”

  Kammani presented glazed ceramic bottles to them as if she were handing out treasure.

  “About that source—,” Shar said as she took hers.

  “All will be explained when you return on Tuesday,” Kammani said, and moved toward the back of the room again.

  Abby squinted at her ceramic glazed bottle. “This tonic is really good.” She took another slug of the sweet, spicy liquid. For tonic like this she could manage to come back, maybe long enough to find out what was in it.

  “I don’t want to come back,” Shar said, sounding more like a rebellious child than a dignified, gray-haired professor.

  Which reminded Abby of Christopher Mackenzie, who was nowhere near gray-haired and far too dignified himself, and if she was going to have to go buy ingredients for his cookies, she’d better get a move on.

  “We’ll all come together,” Abby said. “We won’t let the scary lady get you.”

  Shar shook her head. “It’s not the scary part; it’s the waste of time. I have work to do.”

  “Who doesn’t?” Daisy said, and her dog yanked at her leash, practically hauling her out of the chair.

  She was small and strong, Abby thought, but not much of a match for a spastic dog like Bailey. She straightened as Noah came around the circle with handouts.

  “Here’s the class list with phone numbers.” He handed one to Abby while he smiled at Daisy.

  “Thanks.” Abby rose, and as she did, she caught sight of Kammani in the shadows at the back of the room.

  She was watching them.

  “I’m telling you, Kammani’s nuts,” Daisy said as Noah moved on, passing out the class lists. She nodded at the thin, dark-haired girl at the end of the circle. “There’s another one in the last chair there. She’s been staring at me all evening.”

  “Mortuary Mina,” Shar said, and when Abby and Daisy both looked at her, surprised, she added, “Grad student in the history department. Writes all her papers on disasters. If somebody died horribly in history, Mina’s your woman.”

  “Good to know,” Daisy said, and then her dog jerked her away. She met Abby’s eyes. “See you back at the coffeehouse?”

  Abby nodded. “Where’s the nearest grocery store? I need to make cookies.”

  Bowser woofed beside her, and damned if it didn’t sound like he said the word “cookies.” He’d always had a sweet tooth.

  “Kroger’s out on Route Fifty-two,” Daisy said absently. “You’re going to bake?”

  “There’s a butthole professor who seems to think I inherited my grandmother’s obligations as well as the old building, and I’m not interested in fighting him. You want a ride?”

  Daisy glanced toward Noah, who was scratching the tiaraed head of one of the dogs. “It’s a nice night. I think I’ll walk,” she said, trying to sound innocent.

  Shar leaned closer and said, “A professor? I know most of them. Do you need help?”

  “I don’t think Professor Mackenzie is likely to be reasonable.”

  “Oh, Christopher.” Shar nodded. “He’s a good man, but he has a tendency to tunnel vision.” She stopped and looked back at the curtain. “I guess we all do.” She turned back to Abby. “Let me know if you need me to run interference. You’ve got my number.”

  Abby looked at her, startled. “That’s very nice of you… .”

  “Well,” Shar said, “you know. Friends. Or else.” She stood up and put down her empty cup. “It was lovely meeting you both,” she said, and then she let her dachshund pull her to the door, a drab, quiet, totally nice woman with not much life left in her, and Abby wondered if she was going to end up just like her. Dried up and old before her time.

  The teenagers shrieked with laughter and the sour-looking dark-haired girl—Mortuary Mina—took her black Chihuahua and slipped behind the curtain, shadowing Kammani, and one of the little Temple Dogs looked after Wolfie and then padded gracefully back to the altar. Abby looked down at Bowser. “Let’s blow this Popsicle stand. We got cookies to make.”

  “Cookies,” Bowser barked, and Abby jumped, startled.

  “What did you say?” The moment the words were out of her mouth she realized how absurd that was. She shook her head, as if to clear the cobwebs that had surely set up shop. “Never mind; I’m imagining things. Let’s go.”

  Bowser woofed in agreement, a totally doglike sound, and Abby felt some of the tension drain away. It had been an extremely long day, and she’d been nuts to come here without taking time to settle in. They walked out the auditorium doors, across the hall, and out of the building onto the quadrangle. Her car was parked nearby, and it wasn’t until she climbed into the driver’s seat and Bowser had stretched out beside her that she let out her breath.

  “This is a very weird place, Bowse,” she said absently, rubbing his massive head.

  He looked up at her out of his dark, wise eyes. “You’re telling me,” he growled.

  And Abby let out a scream.

  “Bailey, heel!”

  Daisy jerked on the leash as Bailey dragged her to the grassy patch behind the step temple.

  She leaned back and dug in her heels, trying to balance her purse, the ceramic bottle, Bailey, and her sanity.

  “Heel! Heel! Heel!” Something snapped under her left foot. “What the— Heel!”

  Bailey stopped straining against the leash and danced back to her. Daisy dumped her bottle and purse on the ground and sat, then pulled off her left sandal. The heel had broken clean off. Bailey sniffed at it and then licked Daisy’s hand.

  “Don’t kiss up now, dog.” She held the broken heel to her sandal, checking for a way to fix it just to get home, because walking on one heel while being attached to Bailey was a suicide mission. She picked up the ceramic bottle and pulled out the cork. Maybe she could substitute it for the heel … no. Too short.

  “This is what you get when you buy cheap shoes.” She took a breath, catching the sharp scent of the temple tonic wafting up from the open bottle. She glanced at it, focusing on the pretty carnelian flower embossed on the side, the rich orange-red coloring almost swirling under the glossy surface. She lifted the bottle and took a generous swig. Damn, that stuff was good, sharp and exotic like an umbrella drink on a beach. It made her feel … not drunk. Relaxed. Calm. Happy, as if her life was better than she remembered it being. She took another drink, then looked at Bailey, who was doing his signature Let’s go! Let’s go! shuffle-dance two-step.

  She recorked the bottle and turned her attention back to the sandal. “I’m telling you, these classes better work, or I’m going to throw myself in the river.”

  “River!” Bailey barked.

  Daisy’s grip tightened on the sandals in her