Page 159 of Nobody Told Me Thrift Shops Sell Stolen Dragon Heirlooms

I stayed behind a parked SUV, visible to Avery but not Fenwick.

Fenwick noticed him. His head turned, and his posture changed.

“Hey,” he called. “Whose dog is this?”

Max’s tail wagged as he continued toward the median.

Fenwick jogged after him, still breathing hard from the race. “Buddy. Hey. Come here.”

Max paused, allowed Fenwick to get within six feet, then trotted away.

Avery whispered, “Beautiful.”

Fenwick laughed, slightly breathless. “Come on, pal. Don’t make me work for it.”

Max gave him a polite look and moved around the back of a Subaru.

The next minute wasn’t dignified for anyone except Max.

Fenwick tried to circle left. Max went right. Fenwick bent at the waist and reached for his collar. Max stepped neatly over it and pranced three feet away. A woman loading folding chairs into a trunk paused to watch. One of the runners called, “Need help, Al?” Fenwick waved him off, still trying to look in charge while Max calmly ruined that for him.

I waited until Fenwick finally caught his collar with one hand and let out a triumphant breath.

Then I ran forward.

“Oh my god,” I called. “Thank you!”

Fenwick straightened, face flushed. “Is he yours?”

“Yes, thank you. He slipped his leash.” I reached Max and took the line, giving him the smallest hand signal. He sat at once, angelic and utterly fraudulent. “Max, you menace.”

Fenwick laughed, wiping his forehead with his wristband. “He’s faster than he looks.”

“He hears that a lot.” I looked up at him, all gratitude and harmlessness. “I’m so sorry. You’re Alistair Fenwick, right? From the Arkley Museum?”

His smile flickered. “Yes?”

I pulled the envelope from inside my jacket and placed it in his hand. “Alistair Fenwick, you’ve been served.”

His face went blank.

Behind him, Avery made a sound that might have been a cough and might have been the death rattle of her composure.

Fenwick looked at the envelope. Then he glared at me and Max.

Max wagged his tail.

Fenwick’s nostrils flared, wolf-bright irritation flashing through his otherwise human face. “This is improper.”

“It’s not. We’re in a public place, you confirmed your identity, and I delivered the documents. You may want to contact counsel before making statements in a parking lot.”

The woman with the folding chairs whispered, “Damn.”

Fenwick looked like he might run anyway, which would have been incredible but unnecessary.

I smiled at him, polite and professional. “Have a good race day.”

Then I turned and walked away with Max at my side before my knees could start shaking.