Unleashed (A Melanie Travis Mystery) Read Online Free

that owns the house is quite old, probably in her late eighties. It’s at least a decade since she’d had any serious maintenance work done. Finally, I guess she realized it was just too much for her to keep up. After she leased the place to me, she went into managed care.”
    I could see how a property that size would be hard for an older woman to keep up by herself. “Didn’t she have any relatives nearby who could have helped?”
    Sheila sliced the lamb on a cutting board, transferred it to a platter, and arranged roasted new potatoes around the border. “One, a son named Chuck, who apparently didn’t realize how much of a burden the place had become. I gather his mother had always been the independent type, so maybe they hadn’t seen each other much.
    “Anyway, after she checked into Southbury Oaks, he dropped by. Frankly, he seemed pretty appalled by the shape the place was in. Sam had been helping me out some, but there was still plenty to be done. So, for the last couple months, Chuck’s been stopping by and fixing things up—you know, painting, small repairs, general handyman stuff. If you ask me, he feels kind of guilty that he never got around to doing those things when his mother was here. How’s that salad coming?”
    “All set.”
    “Great. Then we’re ready to eat. Go get the guys, would you, while I carry this to the table?” Sheila frowned prettily, an expression of concern she didn’t quite manage to pull off. “I hope they’re not at each other’s throats in there.”
    If they were, I decided, I wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of letting on.
    They weren’t. In the living room, Sam and Brian were drinking beer, petting dogs, and swapping stories about Honey Sue Beaudine and other classmates they hadn’t heard from in years. Maybe what Brian said was true, and the trouble between them had ended a long time ago.
    For all our sakes, I hoped he was right.

Three

    Sheila had opened most of the windows in the small house and a gentle, evening breeze floated through the dining room. Once again, there were candles, flickering on the table and the sideboard. The lamb was delicious; the merlot, a better vintage than I could afford. In short, the ambiance was all one could have wished for.
    And the company? Once everyone settled down, that wasn’t half-bad either.
    Over dinner, Brian told us all about the plans he and Sheila had made for their new magazine. Gesturing with his fork, toasting their venture with his wine, laughing heartily to punctuate his own stories, he made his enthusiasm for the venture abundantly, and infectiously, clear.
    By the time dessert and coffee were served, Brian had me sold. Thank God he wasn’t soliciting backers, or I probably would have signed on. As it was, Woof!’s upcoming launch was beginning to sound less like a gamble and more like a sure thing. Maybe I’d been wrong in thinking that Sheila’s career path had taken a precipitous detour.
    Sam, however, wasn’t as easily convinced. Though he joined in the conversation and the laughter, his eyes never entirely lost their slightly wary look. Even after downing several glasses of wine, it was clear to me, if not the others, that he was far from relaxed.
    “You know,” Brian said to his old friend, “if this project is a success, I’ll have you to thank.”
    Sam looked up sharply. “How do you figure?”
    “You were the one who got me started in dogs in the first place. Without your guidance, I would never have known the dog show world even existed.”
    “Don’t you mean my interference?” Sam permitted himself a small smile. “As I recall, that’s what you called it at the time.”
    Brian waved away the interruption. “I wanted a dog,” he explained for my benefit. “A big dog. I’d seen a Saint Bernard in a movie and thought it would be just the thing. I figured any pet store would have one.”
    “Thank goodness Sam was there to set you straight,” Sheila said, voicing the antipathy that