“Thanks.” Pippa took a vacated seat, today wearing skinny jeans and marvelous brown boots. Her mahogany hair tumbled down her back, and her pretty eyes were relaxed but concerned. “How are you doing?”

Dana gulped down the rest of the cupcake. “I’m eating my feelings.”

Pippa laughed and reached for a white frosted cupcake. “I’ll eat some feelings, too.”

Roscoe yipped.

“No,” Dana said. “No more sugar for you.” He’d snuck two cookies earlier in the day and then had danced spastically for about fifteen minutes before dropping into a loud snooze. She played with a pen on the table to keep from reaching for another treat. “How are you and Malcolm doing?” she asked.

“Fantastic, although he’s a little on edge with this op. Like the rest of us.” Pippa finished her cupcake and brushed crumbs off her jeans. She stood. “I have to get some stuff finished, so I’ll let you get back to work. We need a spa day when this is all over, and I’ll look for a good one and make the arrangements.” She patted Dana’s shoulder and left.

Dana smiled. “Thanks.” Pippa was one of the nicest people she’d ever met. Drawing her laptop across the table, she started typing her article, beginning with Candy’s disappearance. She was freelance now, and she wouldn’t sell the story until Wolfe was safe and it was over, but she could start now. It’d probably be a three-part article when she was finished, and she’d put Candy’s byline first.

She got lost in writing, taking her time, petting the dog every once in a while.

When the elevator dinged outside, she grew still, her hands halting on the keyboard. What time was it, anyway? Her stomach growled. Must be around supper time.

Nari soon entered with Dr. Georgetown in tow. “Look who we have.” She winked at Dana and then gracefully exited, shutting the door behind herself.

Heat climbed into Dana’s face. “Oh. I totally forgot about the follow-up blood tests. Wolfe isn’t here right now.”

Today the doctor wore red plaid shorts and a bright blue shirt with a peacock above the left pocket. “I was golfing today, so it was no problem to stop by.” He dropped his worn doctor’s bag on the table and drew out a syringe still hygienically sealed and wrapped in a container. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine,” Dana said. “No aftereffects from the drugs.”

“That’s what Wolfe said. I’ve been checking in with him daily, and he has reported on you as well.” The doctor drew a rubber band thingy from his bag. “I just want to make sure the drugs have cleared your system and all is well. Does that work for you?”

She held out her arm, laying it on the table. “Sure.”