Page 74
She shook her head at herself. Where was this sentiment coming from?
One of the dogs slipped past her feet and padded onto the patchy grass. It wasted no time squatting, snout twitching. Felicity almost smiled. The little thing looked as relieved as her to breathe fresh air.
A car door slammed. The cavalry had arrived.
After wedging the back door open for the dogs, she moved through the kitchen and closed the interior door behind her. She’d barely stepped into the living room when her boss came through the front.
“Where is she?” Beau asked.
“Bedroom. End of the hall.”
The floor creaked beneath their combined weight as they moved down the corridor, heavy boots and purpose filling the house.
“Anything disturbed?” His tone was sharp, clipped. Habit, not accusation.
Felicity didn’t take offense. “I didn’t conduct a search,” she said evenly. “My priority was confirming her status and securing the dogs.”
He grunted, gaze sweeping the bedroom, taking in what little there was to see. “It wasn’t a criticism,” he said after a beat.
“I know.”
The floor creaked again as he shifted, his attention settling on the body.
“I reckon Galina collapsed sometime yesterday morning … or the night before,” Felicity said.
Beau nodded. “Agreed.” He tilted his head slightly. “You knew her.” It wasn’t a question.
“Yeah.” Felicity swallowed. “She … was a friend.”
“I’m sorry for your loss.”
Her eyes prickled. She gave a brisk nod.
The dogs erupted again, and the paramedics arrived moments later, boots heavy on the porch, voices low and efficient. Beau called out. Felicity was happy to let him take charge and did a quick walkthrough. Two additional bedrooms. One converted into a sewing room, fabric stacked neatly in bins, a half-finished project laid out on the table. A small guest room, single bed made. One bathroom, linoleum floor, faded bath.
Felicity stood back as they removed Galina’s body.
“Do you know if she had family? Someone to notify?” Beau asked.
“Not that she ever mentioned.”
“I’ll ask around.”
Outside, he paused beside his cruiser. “Animal control’s en route,” he said. “You good to wait? Lock up?”
She nodded. “I’ve got it.”
Felicity made her way to the back and sat on the top step, the wood cold even through the fabric of her pants. One of the pugs pressed close, all soft weight and quiet sighs. She absently stroked its head, fingers brushing the tag.
She read the name. Millie.
Hell. She’d never bothered to learn them. And Galina had never pushed.
She glanced at the other names as the dogs crowded in. Maisie. Maggie.
The sadness came back, uninvited.
Her gaze drifted to the back corner of the yard … to the bare crabapple. And the small wrought-iron table dusted with frost, the single chair empty. Waiting for someone who would never return to it.
