“He’s trained for combat,” Eric said. “I’m thinking he’d be a great addition to our K-9 unit.”
I listened as the two men talked companionably about the virtues of cats versus dogs. Having one of each, I wasn’t about to side with either one of them, but I laughed at their comments and barbs and my heart felt lighter than it had in weeks. I didn’t have any decisions to make today, about men, about life, about anything more important than what to have for dinner. No, for now, I was content to simply enjoy the moment and the fact that I was in the company of two impossibly handsome, generous men, each of whom had just shown his true strength by adopting a sweet, helpless animal to love and care for.
Could this day get any better? I didn’t think so.
The Bibliophile Mysteries return!
Don’t miss the latest, Ripped from the Pages, available in June 2015 from Obsidian, in hardcover and as an e-book.
Turn the page for a peek at the opening pages, when Brooklyn Wainwright returns to Sonoma’s wine country. . . .
And The Book Stops Here, available now in hardcover and e-book,
becomes available in paperback in May 2015.
Chapter One
“Won’t this be fun?” My mother squeezed me with painful enthusiasm. “Two whole months living right next door to each other. You and me. We’ll be like best girlfriends.”
“Or double-homicide victims,” my friend Robin muttered in my ear.
Naturally, my mother, who had the ultrasonic-hearing ability of a fruit bat, overheard her. “Homicide? No, no. None of that talk.” Leaning away from me, she whispered, “Robin sweetie, we mustn’t mock Brooklyn. She can’t help finding, you know, dead people.”
“Mom, I don’t think Robin meant it that way.”
“Of course she didn’t,” Mom said, and winked at Robin.
Robin grinned at me. “I love your mom.”
“I do, too,” I said, holding back a sigh. Mom had a point, since I did have a disturbing tendency to stumble over dead bodies. She was also right to say that I couldn’t help it. It wasn’t like I went out in search of them, for Pete’s sake. That would be a sickness requiring immediate intervention and possibly a twelve-step program.
Hello, my name is Brooklyn, and I’m a dead-body magnet.
Robin’s point was equally valid, too, though. My mother and I could come very close to destroying each other if Mom insisted on being my BFF for the next two months.
Even though she’d raised her children in an atmosphere of peace and love and kindness, there was a limit to how much of her craziness I could take. On the other hand, Mom was an excellent cook, and I could barely boil water, so I could definitely see some benefit to hanging around her house. Still, good food couldn’t make up for the horror of living in close proximity to a woman whose latest idea of a good time was a therapeutic purging and bloodletting at the new panchakarma clinic over in Glen Ellen.
I focused on that as I poured myself another cup of coffee and added a generous dollop of half and half.
A few months ago my hunky British ex–MI6 security agent boyfriend, Derek Stone, had purchased the loft apartment next door to mine in San Francisco. We decided to blow out the walls and turn the two lofts into one big home with a spacious office for Derek and a separate living area for visiting relatives and friends. Our reliable builder had promised it would take only two months to get through the worst of the noise and mess, so Derek and I began to plan where we would stay during the renovation. I liked the idea of spending time in Dharma, where I’d grown up, but live in my parents’ house? For two months? Even though there was plenty of room for us? Never!
“It would be disastrous,” I’d concluded.
Derek’s look of relief had been profound. “We’re in complete agreement as usual, darling.”
“Am I being awful? My parents are wonderful people.”
“Your parents are delightful,” he assured me. “But we need our own space.”
“Right. Space.” I knew Derek was mainly concerned about me. He would spend most weeks in the city and commute to Sonoma on the weekends. His Pacific Heights office building had two luxury guest apartments on the top floor, one of which would suit him just fine.