Page 30 of Death on Gallows Path

“You look awful,” she said.

“Thanks.”

“When we’re done here, we’ll drop the pups at my house to sleep off their playtime, while we treat ourselves to a pastry at the café.” She squinted at me. “Multiple pastries.”

I didn’t argue as we unloaded dogs.

Only Clara, Teague, and Kit knew I was trying to write.

I’d told Teague and Kit, though each already had figured it out. Clara caught me in mid-write. She wasn’t surprised.

Their knowing gave me people to vent to about writing.

Except Kit. She classified venting as whining and didn’t tolerate whining.

With Teague out of town, I shouldn’t overload Clara. On the other hand, these dogs’ playing endurance meant I wouldn’t last through the whole session.

Why delay the inevitable?

So I was venting — not whining — as we entered the large dog section.

“I know the main character, Alex, has a block about trusting — other people and herself, mostly herself — but I can’t figure out why. I know it has to do with the past, but what specifically about the past I can’t figure out.”

“Haven’t.”

“What?”

“Not that you can’t figure it out. You haven’t. Yet and— Oh, look. Donna’s still here.”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

I trailed Clara, making a beeline for Donna.

A happy, chirpy bee. Totally unlike me.

So, of course, Donna addressed me.

“Gracie must be relieved.”

“Relieved?” I sounded less interested than I should have. Guilt pushed me to add, “Why?”

Donna sent me a sly sideways look. “She doesn’t have Anxious Annie on the other end of her leash like she did last night.”

“Donna, that’s not fair,” Clara defended me. “Sheila’s a great owner.”

“She’s determined to be a great owner, with a great dog. That’s the problem. Putting too much pressure on Gracie. Herself, too,” she added grudgingly.

“Lassie Syndrome.” I’d muttered that before I caught myself.

I didn’t think they heard me.

Clara continued her defense. “Sheila is hard on herself and that’s why we’re going to the café later. She needs a treat. The one who should be hard on himself is Damon Swindell. What?”

Donna had snorted.

“Nothing.” She didn’t bother to make it believable.

“Did you see the—” I pulled back from a reference to the Gang of Four. “—him and the others after training last night?”