Yappy Hour Read Online Free

toward me, shoving the paper into his back pocket.
    Shoot!
    â€œMaggie?” he asked. “I understand you found the body here, along with Yolanda. You have a key to the front door?”
    Wait a minute. That was wasn’t right. I found the body with Yolanda? No, she was here first. She found the body. I found her straddling the body.
    He was close to me, maybe only a few feet away, yet his voice sounded distant. I shook my head, thinking it would help my hearing, but now there seemed to be something wrong with my eyes, too, as if suddenly I had no peripheral vision … as if suddenly things were closing in on me.
    My hand shot out to the wall, knocking into the row of famous dog portraits. The framed photos banged against each other, sending the 8 by 10 of Gidget, the Taco Bell Chihuahua, crashing to the floor. The autographed portrait of Rin Tin Tin was safe, luckily.
    I steadied myself against the space vacated by Gidget and pressed my cheek into cool stucco. I pulled at my shirt collar again, trying to breathe deeply.
    No, no, no.
    Not a panic attack. I hadn’t had one of those since … since …
    Oh no, don’t think of that! Think of the letter. Think of Rachel.
    Focus!
    My knees began to buckle and rational thought abandoned me. The pressing issue became getting air. I pulled at my shirt again, trying to fan my face. I was burning up.
    I had to get my shirt off.
    The restroom suddenly looked miles away.
    I groaned.
    Officer Brooks was at my side, his hand on my elbow. “Hey, are you all right there?”
    â€œSo hot,” I said.
    He smiled a lopsided grin. “I get that a lot.”
    â€œWhat?” I asked, tugging at the bottom of my shirt and pulling it up toward my face. The dim-witted thought of what bra I had on flashed through my mind.
    He pulled my shirt back down. “Whoa, whoa. What are you doing?”
    â€œNo air,” I mumbled, trying to fan myself and wrestle my top off at the same time.
    Yolanda appeared next to us. She batted my hands away from my shirt and slinked her arm around my waist. Officer Brooks joined her and together they ushered me toward a bar stool.
    I wrapped my arms around their waists.
    Wait! Wait!
    My hand was right up above his back pocket … right next to the letter in his pocket. My finger grazed the paper.
    Think, Maggie, think. Focus.
    I tried to command my fingers to close on the paper, to grasp it, pinch it, whatever it took! But my fine motor—oh, who was I kidding, even my gross motor functions had totally shut down. We reached a bar stool and I flopped onto it, nearly toppling over.
    Officer Brooks steadied me, then said, “Put your head down.” Hands guided my head between my knees.
    I gulped in air. My racing heart slowed a bit and my vision improved.
    I chanced to put my head up, but a strong hand firmly kept it in place. “Not yet,” the baritone said.
    Oh, my hearing was better, too.
    Now, how to get the letter?
    I took a deep, calming breath.
    Beepo appeared beneath my nose. We were eye to eye, nose to nose. He bared his teeth. I bared mine. He growled. I growled back at him.
    The hand lifted from my head. “Did you just growl?” Officer Brooks asked.
    I kept my head down.
    â€œJen said she was going to send an ambulance. Maybe they can give her oxygen or something when they get here,” Yolanda said.
    I raised my head. “I’m fine.”
    Yolanda’s hand fluttered to her chest. “No, you’re not. We’ve had a big shock and you nearly passed out.”
    I glanced at Officer Brooks and caught him studying me. I self-consciously smoothed down my wet hair.
    A smile played around his eyes, and he said, “You’re Rachel’s sister?”
    I nodded.
    â€œWhere is she?” he asked. “Have you called her and told her about Dan?”
    I swallowed past the dry spot in my throat. “No,” I muttered.
    He nodded. “Okay, good.