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  “Yes,” promised Daisy, willing to promise anything and do anything.

  “They like human companionship. No, they love human companionship. Will someone be home with it during the day, or were you planning on leaving it by itself in the yard all day while you’re at work?”

  Her thoughts hadn’t gone that far at all; she turned a beseeching look on her mother.

  “We can keep it during the day,” said Evelyn.

  “Do you have a lot of patience? The little devils can get into more mischief than you’d believe. If you leave something lying around, you can bet it’ll be chewed on, especially during teething. On the other hand, they’re eager to learn and please you, and I’ve never had one that was hard to house-train.”

  “I’m very patient.” That was true, or she would never have waited thirty-four years to get a life. She picked up a puppy and laughed as its little pink tongue began madly licking in an effort to reach her face.

  Mrs. Park smiled and folded her hands. “They’re four hundred dollars each.”

  “Okay,” said Daisy without pause. Mrs. Park could have said a thousand and she probably still wouldn’t have hesitated.

  Sadie came over and licked her baby while Daisy held it, then licked Daisy. She settled down beside Daisy’s legs and was immediately swarmed, fat puppies trying to root under her in search of a teat, but Sadie had learned how to protect herself and they were frustrated in their efforts.

  “Which one do you choose?”

  All the other questions had been easy; this one was agonizing. She stared at them, trying to decide.

  “There are three males and two females—”

  “No, don’t tell me,” said Daisy. “I want to pick a personality, not a sex.”

  So she simply sat while puppies played around and over her. Then one of the pale-cream-colored ones yawned, its little mouth open wide, and its dark eyes with the absurdly long blond eyelashes began to close. Clumsily it climbed over her leg and turned around until it found a comfortable position on her lap, then settled down in a sleepy little ball.

  “Well, I’ve been chosen,” she said, picking up the puppy and cuddling it.

  “That’s one of the males. Take good care of him, now. I’ll be calling and checking on him, and bring him back to see Sadie anytime you want. I’ll just go get the paperwork to fill out so you can register him.”

  “What are you going to name him?” Evelyn asked as they drove back to town. Jo was driving, while Daisy sat in back with the puppy asleep in her arms.

  “I’ll have to think about it. If the size of these feet are anything to go by, he’s going to be huge, so I want something macho and tough.”

  Jo snorted. “He looks macho and tough. Fuzzball would be a good name.”

  “He won’t be fuzzy forever.” Already she felt sad at the thought of him growing out of his puppyhood. She stroked his little head and suddenly realized the enormity of the responsibility she had taken on. “My goodness, I haven’t bought anything! We’ll have to stop at Wal-Mart so I can get some puppy food, his food and water dishes, toys, a bed for him, and those house-training pads to put down. Am I forgetting anything?”

  “Just double the supply,” said Evelyn, “since we’ll be keeping him during the day. There’s no sense in carrying his things back and forth.”

  “I’ll be late getting back to the library,” said Daisy, and for the first time didn’t care. She had a lover and a dog; could life get any better?

  SEVENTEEN

  Temple Nolan was more than stunned to find out the tag number belonged to Daisy Minor, he was disbelieving. Sykes had clearly said the woman was blonde, and Daisy’s hair was brown. Moreover, he doubted she had ever seen the inside of a nightclub; she was the very stereotype of the community old maid who lived at home her entire life, was beloved by the neighborhood kids because she gave out the best candy at Halloween, and went to church three times a week.

  But then a vague memory tickled, a snippet of conversation between two of the city clerks he’d over-heard when he passed them in the hallway, about Daisy turning over a new leaf or getting her petals plucked, something with a horticultural flavor. Maybe Daisy was kicking up her heels a little. It still sounded so out of character for her he couldn’t quite believe it, but it was worth checking out.

  He could have asked Nadine, his secretary, if she’d heard any gossip about Daisy, but that icy finger of fear made him more cautious. If Daisy was indeed the woman Sykes had seen, Temple didn’t want Nadine to remember that he had asked questions about her just before her death or disappearance, whatever Sykes arranged. So he told Nadine he was stepping out for a minute, then walked over to the library. He didn’t even have to go inside; he looked through the glass door and saw Daisy seated behind the checkout desk, her head bent over some paperwork—her blond head. Daisy had lightened her hair.

  He felt almost sick to his stomach.

  He walked back to his office, his head down. When he entered, Nadine said in alarm, “Mayor, are you all right? You look pale.”

  “An upset stomach,” he said, telling the truth. “I thought some fresh air might help.”

  “Maybe you should go home,” she said, looking worried. Nadine was the maternal type, always baby-sitting her grandchildren, and she tended to dispense more medical advice than the doctors in town.

  He had lunch scheduled with the mayor of Scottsboro, so he shook his head. “No, it’s just indigestion. I had a glass of orange juice this morning.”

  “That’ll do it,” she said, opening a desk drawer and pulling out a bottle. “Here, have some Maalox.”

  Meekly he accepted two tablets and obediently chewed them. “Thanks,” he said, and went back into his office. One of these days Nadine was going to diagnose indigestion in someone who was really having a heart attack, but at least in his case he knew exactly why he had a sour stomach.

  He made sure his door was securely shut, then went to his private phone and called Sykes. What had to be done . . . had to be done.

  Jack borrowed a pickup truck from one of his officers, pulled off his tie, put on sunglasses and a John Deere cap, and followed the mayor to his lunch with the mayor of Scottsboro. He saw nothing suspicious, but that didn’t make him relax. Where Daisy was concerned, he couldn’t relax. All his instincts, honed razor sharp by years in a dangerous job, were on the alert and scanning for a target.

  Daisy, of course, was oblivious of the storm he could sense gathering around her. One of the things he enjoyed most about her was her absolute positiveness; it wasn’t blindness to the bad things that could happen, just an acceptance that not everything was wonderful and a conviction that most things were. Look at her attitude toward Barbara Clud, the gossiping bitch: That was just the way Barbara was, so if you went to that pharmacy, you had to expect her to tell what you bought. Right now, however, he would have felt better if Daisy had a more suspicious view of the world; she might be a little more cautious. At least she was getting a dog for protection. If he couldn’t be there at night, at least she’d have a sharp-toothed alarm system.

  After lunch, the mayor went back to Hillsboro. Jack checked in with Eva Fay, then drove to Huntsville and located Todd Lawrence’s antiques store, which was named, simply, Lawrence’s, nothing cutesy. Jack went in still wearing the John Deere cap, which, judging from the cool look given him by an approaching salesman, marked him as the bull in the china shop.

  The salesman was middle-aged, average in size, and disturbingly familiar. Jack seldom forgot a face; it came from years of studying everyone around him. This man had been at the Buffalo Club; in fact, if Jack wasn’t mistaken, he had danced with Daisy on that first night. His suspicions kicked into overdrive.

  “Is Mr. Lawrence in?”

  “I’m sorry, he’s occupied at the moment,” said the salesman in smooth tones. “May I help you with something?”

  “No.” Jack took out his ID and flipped it open. “Mr. Lawrence. Now. And you’ll need to sit in, too.”