Page 31 of Death on Gallows Path

“Saw them, yes. Couldn’t help it. They blocked the bottom of the steps.”

So that had been before they went to their vehicles.

Clara asked, “Did you hear what they were talking about?”

“No. Layla and Bernie and I moved on immediately. They weren’t controlling their dogs. Didn’t want Bernie in the middle of that.”

“Were they unhappy with each other?” I asked.

“No idea,” she said repressively. “Hattie, c’mon, time to go.”

They took a step away before she looked over her shoulder at me. “Lassie Syndrome, huh? It’s all in your head about needing to be perfect. Don’t put it in Gracie’s.”

* * * *

The dogs had a great time for the next hour-plus.

Clara enjoyed herself watching their antics.

I sat on top of the picnic table, staring into the middle distance.

Yes, I thought about Donna’s stricture on perfection. Mostly I considered Clara’s earlier words.

Not that you can’t figure it out. You haven’t. Yet.

I wanted to grouse that can’t and haven’t ended up in the same darned place — frustration.

But I was afraid she’d have an answer.

Eventually, Clara declared our need for café treats had reached critical mass.

After leaving all three dogs at her house, I was driving us toward the café.

Automatically, I stopped behind a compact car at a red light as we neared Haines Tavern’s center.

“Did you see that?” Clara asked.

A vehicle had crossed through the intersection in front of us. It had the light and hadn’t done anything weird. “See what?”

“Donna.”

“Oh?” Unspoken was my follow-up question: What’s notable about that?

“With dogs in back.”

Still not weird.

“Not Hattie or Bernie,” she added.

Now, that got my attention.

“Who?” Yes, a dog is a who, not a what.

“I think it was Lucifer and Izolde.”

I peered in the direction the vehicle had headed. It was long gone.

“Why would she have them?” I said.