Page 19 of Death on Gallows Path

I wrote.

I fed the dogs.

I wrote.

I talked with Teague. He was busy. Having an interesting time.

At some point, I fell across the bed and slept.

DAY FOUR

THURSDAY

CHAPTER ELEVEN

The day of the second training class rolled around much faster than expected.

Clara reminded me of it at the dog park.

Yes, I made it this time. It wasn’t fair to put that all on Clara.

When Clara brought up training class, I started and said, “Today?”

“Yes. I’ll pick you up. And I’ll call you before I come.”

“Okay.” At least I think I said that. The right phrase to describe my lead character’s reaction to her nemesis itched at the tips of my fingers . . .

I don’t remember getting home from the dog park.

Next thing I knew, Clara was at my elbow as I typed away in my office. “Time to go.”

“Wha—?”

“Training. Class. Dogs. Remember?”

Clearly, I hadn’t. “I haven’t changed since the dog park.”

“If there’s any group on earth that will overlook that, this is it. C’mon.”

“But . . . But I haven’t fed Gracie and Murph yet.”

“She’ll be more food-motivated during class.”

There was that.

Clara added, “I’ll feed Murph while you go wash your face and comb your hair. After class, I’ll come in and make sure you feed Gracie before I leave.”

My stomach growled.

“Feed you, too,” she added.

* * * *

While I continued to feel as if I were coming out of anesthetic, Clara chatted on the drive to Zepke’s about how my behavior gave her useful insight into the writer mind that she didn’t get from her clients, since they communicated with her when they were in business mode, not writing mode.

Glad I could help. I guess.

I was back in the real world enough by the time we reached the training room to note that, sure enough, no human gave me a second look, though two told Gracie that she was gorgeous.