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“Wendy Allen. Thirty two years old. Parents born in South Korea, immigrated here before Wendy was born. Originally from Massachusetts. Went to Cornell…” I scan the page again. “Works at the Boston arm of NewsCorp, the website Boston Facts Daily. She dated and was engaged to Max Hershel for a brief period about two years ago… but her sister says they called the wedding off. Max moved to New York City a few months ago… Wendy did not immediately follow, so it is possible they were no longer seeing each other. Let’s see… she owns her house. She has a huge amount of student debt. Twenty thousand pounds on her credit cards.” I suck in a breath, disappointed. “That’s all that he has to report, although he will keep digging.”
She sits back, crossing her arms and releasing a disgusted sigh. “I don’t see how that gets me any closer to leaving.”
“It doesn’t, really.” I cross my arms and lean back in my chair, trying to measure her reaction with my gaze.
CHAPTERSIXTEEN
Mid-morning the next day, I go searching for someone. Anyone, really. I have a question about driving into Glasgow that is pretty burning. However, the easy part of finding someone to listen to my question turns out to be harder than I thought.
I search the kitchen, but Mrs. Wolf is gone. Henri, the butler, is nowhere to be found around the ground floor. I even go to Natasha when it becomes apparent that Keir has gone to work outside the castle.
Did no one think to let me know that they were leaving me all alone?
I pass the dining room, my mouth twisted to the side. In my hurry to get to my room, I hurtle past a small movement. It’s only a few seconds later that I realize what I just saw and back up.
Isla is on her knees in the dining room, peering at a large, scruffy-looking gray dog as it lies in a nest of towels. The dog pants and for a second I think it is sick. Stepping forward with a mind to snatch Isla out of the room, I see that the dog is very, very pregnant.
“Is this your dog?” I ask, keeping my voice low. I approach the girl and the dog cautiously, trying not to see scenes from Cujo flashing in my head.
Isla startles and looks up at me with a guilty expression. “No…”
I expect her to say more, but she doesn’t. I move to stand beside her, touching her shoulder. She allows the contact without comment, which I take as a win.
“Did someone else set her up in here?” I ask, keeping my tone light.
Isla licks her lips and grimaces. “No.”
I nod my head. “Wow, so you were the one who made this pallet for her to lay on?”
“The towels? Yes, that was my idea. I hope Mrs. Wolf won’t be too mad. They are the towels she uses to dry off my feet when I come in from a storm.”
“That’s genius. Mrs. Wolf probably won’t mind one bit.” I squeeze her shoulder, take a deep breath, and then move closer to the dog. She whines and thumps her tail, yawning nervously. “Where did you find her?”
“Lady. I’m calling her Lady, because I love Lady and The Tramp. And I found her at the door, begging to come inside.”
“Lady is a pretty name,” I murmur. I reach down and very gently stroke Lady’s shoulder. She looks at me and thumps her tail, but she’s clearly right in the middle of labor.
“Should we call a doctor for dogs?” Isla wonders aloud.
“A veterinarian?” I stroke Lady again, curling my lip indecisively. “I don’t think so. Lady isn’t in any obvious distress. Why don’t you and I set out some water and food for her? We can keep tabs on her but give her a little privacy.”
Isla nods, pointing out a bowl filled with a handful of bread. I raise my eyebrows.
“Wow! You did really well. You looked at the dog, assessed what she needed, and set it up for her. That’s really well reasoned. I am seriously impressed that you did that.”
Isla pushes her wild red-orange hair back. “Really?”
By the look she gives me, she doesn’t quite believe me. Moving back toward her, I give her a soft smile and touch her shoulder again. “Seriously. Well done. That shows that you used your brain and thought about what would make Lady happy.”
“Oh.” She scans my face for several seconds, blushing two vivid spots of red. “I want her to be comfortable.”
“Well, it looks like Lady is going to have some puppies, And we should mostly stay out of her way and let nature take its course. But how about you and I grab a bowl of water just in case she’s thirsty?”
“Yeah, we can do that.” Isla stands up, brushing off her dark jeans and dirt-smudged white shirt.
“You lead the way.” I purse my lips and nod toward the kitchen.
Apparently, that was the right thing to say to her. Head held high, Isla swans out of the living room and down the hall. As we approach the kitchen, she starts to chatter.
