Two Tall Tails by Sofie Kelly Page A

love you,” I said.
    Rose reached up and patted my hair. “I love you, too, sweetie.”
    I straightened up, and as I followed Rose up the steps to the front door, I finally glanced in the direction of Angie’s house. Jason was standing in his aunt’s driveway. I watched him look around, and when his gaze reached me, there was something smug in his expression that made my stomach hurt all over again.
    I had an appointment with the hand therapist the next day. Katie offered to take Tom to pick up Matilda.
    â€œWhat would I do without the two of you?” the old man said.
    Katie smiled at him. “What would we do without you?”
    â€œDid you find Molly’s ball?” Rose asked. “I checked all the flowerbeds and the front yard, but I didn’t see it.”
    â€œDid Molly lose another ball?” Tom said.
    Katie nodded. “The one with the pink and purple stripes. Now that we can’t find it, it’s suddenly become her favorite. Four-year-olds can be very stubborn.”
    Tom patted her arm. “So can eighty-four-year-olds, my dear,” he said.
    We all arrived back in the court at the same time. I couldn’t help smiling as Tom got out of Katie’s car and set Matilda down on the grass. The little corgi seemed like her old self. I walked over to say hello.
    Molly was crouched in the grass talking to the dog.
    â€œSay good-bye to Matilda,” Katie told her. Molly put her arms around the corgi and gave her a hug. “Gently,” her mother reminded the little girl.
    â€œThank you,” Tom said.
    Katie smiled. “Anytime.”
    I bent down to stroke the top of Matilda’s head. The little dog nuzzled my wrist. “What did the vet say?” I asked as I straightened up.
    â€œHe’s still waiting for the results of the blood tests,” Tom said, looking down at his furry companion. “But he thinks she may have eaten something toxic.” He shook his head. “I shouldn’t have given her any of that duck.”
    â€œYou don’t know it was that,” I said. It was difficult not to look over at Angie’s small white house.
    My cell phone rang as I was unlocking my apartment door. It was Abby Davenport.
    â€œWas I right about the ball?” I asked, hoping that I wasn’t, while at the same time some gut instinct told me I was.
    â€œYou were,” the vet said. “The ball was coated with an insecticide.”
    I leaned against the kitchen counter. Elvis watched me from his perch at the top of his cat tower. “I was hoping I was wrong,” I said.
    â€œIt’s good that you got her here when you did,” Abby continued.
    â€œTom’s not the one who exposed her to the insecticide,” I blurted out. It suddenly seemed very important that the veterinarian knew that. I didn’t want Tom to be blamed for something I knew he would never do.
    â€œI believe you,” she said. “I talked to Ben Kessler. He told me how upset Mr. Harris was.” She cleared her throat. “In theory, it could have been spilled on the dog’s ball by accident.”
    â€œBut you don’t think that’s what happened.”
    â€œIt’s a bit of a stretch.”
    â€œTom doesn’t use anything like that in his yard because of Matilda and because there’s a four year-old across the street.”
    Abby sighed and I imagined her in her blue scrubs sitting on the edge of her desk. “We still don’t have all of the dog’s blood work back, but depending on what it shows, I may have to call the police.”
    â€œI understand,” I said.
    Abby said she’d be in touch and we said good-bye. I looked at the phone. Now I was second-guessing my decision not to involve Michelle. Unfortunately, she’d gone to visit her mother for a couple of days.
    I worked late that evening, sanding a china cabinet that I was certain was in good shape under all the layers of paint on