arrested him.’
‘Arrested …’
‘I’ve caught him red-handed—or red-pawed—on any number of occasions. The problem is that he doesn’t know how to hide it. Like now. He steals and then he shows off.’
‘I don’t believe it.’
‘You’ve already said that.’
‘But …’
‘That’s why no one wants him,’ he said, humour fading. ‘He’s always been a problem. Henrietta’s had to be honest with everyone who came to the Shelter looking for the ideal pet. He isn’t ideal. Isaac paid out on Kleppy’s behalf more times than I can say. He’s hidden stuff and he’s been accused of stealing himself. Isaac never cared what people thought of him, which was just as well, as there’s been more women’s underwear end up at his house than you can imagine. He burned most of it—what choice did he have? Can you imagine wandering the town saying who owns this G-string? But he loved Kleppy, you see.’ The smile returned. ‘Like you will.’
‘I … This is appalling.’
‘I told you to get him put down.’
‘You know I’m a soft option.’ Anger hit then, fury, pure and simple. ‘You know me, Raff Finn. You put this dog in my car because you knew I wouldn’t be able to have him put down. You know I’m a soft touch.’
‘Now how would I know that?’ he said softly. ‘I haven’t known you for a very long time, Abby. You’ve grown up. You’ve got yourself engaged to Philip. The Abby I knew could no sooner have married Philip than fly. You’re a lawyer engaged in getting Wallace Baxter off. A lawyer doing cases like that—of course you can get a dog put down.’
His gaze met hers, direct, challenging, knowing he was calling a bluff she couldn’t possibly meet.
‘You still can,’ he told her. ‘Put Kleppy in the car and take him back to Fred. You’ve made his last hours happy by giving him the freedom for one last hoist. He’ll die a happy dog.’
You still can.
Say something.
She couldn’t think of a thing to say.
She was hugging Kleppy, who had a pink bra somehow looped around his ears.
She still hugged Kleppy.
What Raff was saying was sensible. Very sensible. There were too many dogs in the world. She’d done her best by this one. She’d let him have a happy morning—if indeed Raff was right and Kleppy did enjoy stealing.
But he was certainly a happier dog now than he’d been when she’d first met him. He was warm and nuzzly. He was poking his damp nose against her neck, giving her a tentative lick.
His backside was wriggling.
Take him back to Fred? No way.
She’d always wanted a dog.
Philip would hate a dog.
Her marriage suddenly loomed before her. Loomed? Wrong word, but she couldn’t think of another one.
Philip was wonderful. He was her rock. He’d looked after her and her family for ever. When Ben had died he’d held her up when her world seemed to be disintegrating.
Philip was right for her. Her parents loved him. Everyone thought Philip was wonderful. If she hadn’t married him …
She hadn’t married him, she reminded herself. Not yet. That was the point.
In nine days she’d be married. She’d move into the fabulous house Philip had bought for them, and she’d be Philip’s wife.
Philip’s wife would never bring home a kleptomaniac dog. She’d never bring home any sort of dog. So, if she wanted one …
She took a deep breath and she knew exactly what she’d do. Her last stand … Like it or leave it, she thought, and she sounded desperate, even to herself. But she had made up her mind.
‘I’m keeping him.’
‘Good for you,’ Raff said and the twinkle was back with a vengeance. ‘Can I be there when you tell Philip?’
‘Get lost.’
‘That’s not kind. Not when you need help to buy what Kleppy needs.’
‘I’m starting to get a very good idea of what Kleppy needs,’ she said darkly. ‘An eight-foot fence and a six-foot chain.’
‘He’ll mope.’
‘Then he’ll have to learn not to mope. It’s that or dead.’
‘You’ll explain that to him how?’
‘You’re not being helpful.’
‘No,’ he said and glanced at his watch. ‘I’m not. I need a hamburger and time’s running out before court resumes. You want a list?’
‘No. I mean …’ The afternoon suddenly stretched before her, long and lonely. Or not long and lonely for her. Long and lonely for the little dog squirming in her arms. Her thief. ‘I do need a list. I also need a chain.’ She hesitated. ‘But I can’t leave him here. This morning was only two hours. This afternoon’s four at least before I can collect him.’
‘So take him home.’
‘I can’t.’ It was practically a wail. She caught herself. Fought for a little dignity. ‘I mean … it’s not dog-proof. I need an hour or so there to get things organised.’
‘That’s fair enough.’ He paused, surveyed her face and then decided to be helpful. ‘You want me to ask Sarah to help?’
Sarah. Her eyes widened. Of course. Sarah loved dogs. And … Maybe her first suggestion was still possible. Maybe …
‘No,’ Raff said before she opened her mouth. ‘Sarah’s not taking ownership of another dog and if you ask her I’ll personally run you out of town. I mean that, Abby.’
‘I wouldn’t ask her.’
‘No?’
She managed a twisted smile, abandoning her last forlorn hope.
‘No.’
‘Good, then,’ he said briskly, moving on. ‘But she’ll enjoy taking care of him this afternoon. Kleppy’ll be tired after his excursion. We have a safe yard. The other dogs are quiet—they won’t overwhelm him—and you can come by this evening and pick him up.’
Go back to Raff’s? She couldn’t imagine doing that. But Raff was moving on.
‘It’s a good offer,’ Raff said. ‘Take it or leave it, but do it now. If you accept, then I’ll lock this convicted thief in my patrol car and take him out to Sarah. I may even do it with lights and
