“There’s the vet clinic, right?”

“Ada works there because she loves animals. She makes very little, but she doesn’t have to earn a lot. Her husband’s an ob/gyn and he has a thriving practice.”

The dogs, who’d started barking as soon as they came around the building, began to whine and jump against the walls.

Bishop opened the door and, careful not to let them out, held it so that Mrs. Southwick could look in.

“There are just five left, huh? What are their names?”

Bishop tightened his jaw. She was too damn nosey. If she didn’t watch herself, she’d be rotting right along with Emmett Virtanen in the coop closest to the fence on the far end.

He rattled off a few popular pet names and said he couldn’t remember the last one, simply because he couldn’t think of a fifth.

“How do you find homes for them?” she asked.

Bishop had reached his limit. He wasn’t going to indulge her any longer. He shouldn’t have to. He’d paid his rent. She had no reason to bother him. “Mrs. Southwick, I’m sorry, but I have groceries waiting in the car. Is there any way we could discuss this some other time? It’s not as though I was expecting you, after all.”

She blinked several times. “Of course. I’m sorry to have bothered you.”

“No problem. It’s been inconvenient,” he admitted, “but I’ve been very accommodating. Wouldn’t you say?”

“I’m not sure I’d say that at all,” she mumbled, and hugged her purse to her chest as she began to march back to her car.

“You can’t just drop in and expect me to be happy about it!” he called after her.

She turned, a look of wonder on her face. “This is my property!”

“I’m paying rent. I deserve a little privacy.”

“It’s too bad Emmett quit,” she said. “I liked him a lot better than you.”

That was the story of Bishop’s life. No one liked him, and he couldn’t figure out why. He had a right to draw some boundaries, didn’t he? Others did it all the time, and somehow they retained their friends. She was in his way, had interrupted his morning without any warning—so how was he in the wrong?

“I tried to be nice,” he said as he followed her back around the plant.

“I’ve been through a harrowing ordeal the past six months. The least you could do is indulge me with a fifteen-minute visit. I was asking about the dogs because I was thinking of adopting one. I need something else in my life now that Bernie’s gone. Sometimes, late at night, I think I might be losing my mind.” Her voice broke, prompting him to say what everyone expected when someone started to cry.

“I’m sorry. I’m just … busy and … and stressed.” What was more stressful than having a dead man in the coop in back and a kidnap victim locked in the cooler? He was doing something few people attempted and even fewer managed to pull off, right after recovering from a massive stroke. “With Emmett gone, I had to change my plans at the last minute. And I still haven’t found a home for these dogs, even though I’ve got more coming.…”