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God, who was that woman? Too weak, too scared to even properly take care of a dog. She didn’t recognize herself anymore and hated it.
And then she heard a knock at the door.
She froze. No way it was Connelly already. It had only been a few minutes since they hung up.
Veronica’s heart pounded in her chest as she forced herself to stand up. She tiptoed across the living room and peered through the peephole. A man she vaguely recognized stood on the other side, and he had Rebel on a leash. He also had another smaller dog in his arms. A little brown and white dog with long hair and big ears.
Alfie!
And, suddenly, she remembered who this man was—the husband of her former therapist, Dr. Amelia Firestone, who was brutally murdered in her own kitchen a few months ago. Alfie had belonged to Dr. Firestone. A certified therapy dog, he had attended every session and Veronica had loved the comfort he provided. She didn’t realize how much she’d missed him until she saw those fluffy ears.
She opened the door a crack. “Hi, Mr. Firestone.”
“Please, call me Hank.” His smile was gentle and more than a little sad. He’d aged considerably since his wife’s murder. His salt and pepper hair had gone completely gray, and the lines fanning out from his eyes were more pronounced.
He patted Rebel’s muscular side. “I found this pretty girl down the road. Is she yours?”
“No. Uh, she belongs to a friend. I was just... watching her for him, and she got away from me.” She opened the door wider to let Rebel inside. The dog had rolled in something nasty during her walkabout, and the noxious smell wafted in behind her.
Veronica gagged and pinched her nose. “Ugh, that’s bad.”
Hank gave a rusty-sounding laugh. “You might want to give her a bath.”
“Thank you for bringing her back.”
“No problem.” His smile faded. “It’s what Amelia would’ve done.”
“I never had to the opportunity to tell you how sorry I am for your loss. Dr. Firestone was a good person. She didn’t deserve what happened to her.”
“And I’m sorry for yours. I know she was as much yours as mine. She cared about you a great deal, Veronica.”
A lump rose in her throat. “I miss her.”
“Me, too.” After a heavy moment, he exhaled hard and straightened his shoulders.
And Veronica thought that was the end of it. He’d say his goodbye and go about his day.
But instead, he pushed Alfie into her arms. “I can’t take care of him. It hurts too much. He reminds me every day that she’s not here and— I know Amelia would want you to have him.”
“Oh.” Startled, she nearly fumbled the small dog and pulled him tight to her chest. Alfie licked her face.
She couldn’t believe this was happening. She stared down at Alfie, her heart swelling with emotion. It had been so long since she’d held the dog in her arms, and she had forgotten how much comfort he provided.
“Are you sure?” she asked, tears stinging at the corners of her eyes.
Hank nodded. “I’m positive. Amelia loved you. She’d want you to have him.”
Veronica nodded, her throat too tight to speak. She hugged Alfie close to her, enjoying his warmth and his soft fur against her skin.
“Thank you.” Her voice cracked on the words. “Thank you so much.”
Hank’s smile was sad but genuine as he passed her a bag full of Alfie’s things. “Take care of him, okay? He’s a good boy.”
“I will. I’ll take the best care of him.”
Hank hesitated another beat, almost like he wanted to say something more, but then he turned and walked to the cargo van parked in her driveway. It had “Firestone Electric Solutions” painted on the side next to the cartoon of a surprised-looking electrical outlet holding a plug in its gloved hand.
Veronica closed the door and nuzzled Alfie’s soft ears. Warm spread through her chest as he licked her face again. A tiny spark of joy.
