The More the Terrier by Linda O. Johnston Page A

away, ready to state, as I often did, that I wasn’t ready for anything serious between us, he said, “I know. I’ll back off. But if you decide to get more involved in the murder investigation, will you at least let me know?”
    “Okay.” I nodded. That sounded fair.
    Matt’s concern filled me with warmth. I really had started caring for him—much more than I was comfortable with. I wasn’t sure where things might go from here but appreciated that he seemed to understand and never pushed me.
    We gave each other some pretty sexy goodnight kisses, and I got in my car to head back to HotRescues to pick up Zoey.

Chapter 9

    The time was nearly nine o’clock. I felt exhausted, ready to go home. Almost. I could never leave HotRescues without a final walk-through of the shelter.
    Zoey greeted me inside the welcome area, leaping around as if I’d been gone for weeks, not just a couple of hours. Smart and obedient pup that she is, she immediately settled down when I said “Sit.” Her butt wriggled on the tile floor, though, and her beautiful amber eyes never left mine. She wanted my approval, which she got. A hug, too.
    I went to put my purse in my office. When Zoey and I came back down the hall, we were greeted by Brooke Pernall and Cheyenne.
    “Hey, Lauren,” Brooke said as I gave Cheyenne a pat in greeting. Unlike how I felt, Brooke appeared wide awake and alert, and I marveled again at how much she had improved since she had first come here ill and ready to relinquish Cheyenne for the pup’s own good. “You’re just getting here? Are you taking on a security job? This is like the hours my guys and I keep.”
    “Just picking up Zoey and taking my last walk-through of the day. Care to come along and do your security thing?”
    “Wouldn’t miss it.”
    Inevitably, Brooke asked me about the Mamie situation. Word had gotten out. I told her what I knew, which wasn’t a lot.
    “They were still questioning her? Do you think she did it?”
    “Honestly, I don’t know.” But the same thoughts kept reverberating in my mind—along with the germ of a crazy idea.
    By then, we were in the outdoor shelter area. Our chain-link kennels on both sides of the walkway were nearly all full, particularly here, near the front. I stopped at the first on the left to pet Hannibal, a Great Dane mix, and Babydoll, a shepherd, in the one beyond. With both, as always, I waited until they were calm, then slipped inside their enclosures, rewarding them for behavior that might ultimately help them get adopted. Then I went to the cages on the right side and did the same with Dodi, a sheltie mix. Junior, a Doberman, woofed at us from the left as we started walking past the center building. I didn’t acknowledge him till he’d quieted down, and then I greeted him, too. Despite his breed, he wasn’t aggressive. We always tried to avoid taking in aggressive dogs, since they were less adoptable.
    The area was crowded with dogs that needed loving homes. I’ve always believed that letting visitors see as many residents as possible right from the get-go was more likely to trigger compassion than allowing them to feel they weren’t needed because we couldn’t fill our habitats.
    The enclosures were well built and maintained, partly due to Dante’s generous support of HotRescues—and lots of bedding and toys, and, of course, food from his stores. In addition, I always prided myself on making each enclosure as welcoming as possible. Naturally, each animal had plenty of water—in bowls from HotPets.
    For ease of keeping things clean, the kennels resembled cages, each with dual parts: a roomy outside run that led to a door into a narrow temperature-controlled building. Toy dogs were all housed in our center building, beyond the first row of enclosures on our right, but in separate rooms from our kitty locales. Most cats hung out together in areas filled with climbing toys and litter boxes, with a kitchen in between. We also had rooms for other