He beamed.

“Tell me about it,” he said. He leaned back and folded his hands, gazing at me expectantly. It was rather like the way Timmy looked when I’d agreed that yes, yes, I’d read him another story.

“Why?” I asked. “I didn’t see a single endangered species all day.”

“There’s more to life than endangered species.”

Who was this—the pod Dr. Blake?

“Yes,” I said. “There are also animal welfare and the responsible stewardship of the earth’s resources, but I don’t think I did anything today to further those causes, either. Or hinder them,” I added hastily.

“Well, what the hell did you do, then?” he asked.

Okay, that was closer to the real Dr. Blake.

“I went looking for my friend Karen again,” I said. “And found her estranged husband’s dead body.”

“Yes, that Jason somebody.”

“Jasper,” I said. “Jasper Walker. And then I had lunch with a friend and did some research in the library.”

A pause.

“That’s it?” he said.

I nodded.

“Then elaborate. Give me a little local color. You found a body. That must have been exciting. Did you check his pulse? Attempt CPR? Or just assume he was dead?”

“He’d been dead several days,” I said. “So no, exciting wasn’t exactly the word I’d use, and you couldn’t pay me enough to check his pulse, and as for CPR, let’s not even go there.”

“Several days? Did you check to see if he had any pets that might need rescuing?”

I knew there had to be an animal angle to this.

“I called the police,” I said. “And they took custody of his dog.”

Blake frowned.

“I fed the dog some cheese crackers,” I offered, just so he wouldn’t think I was completely stone-hearted.

“Cheese crackers,” he repeated.

“I didn’t have any nutritionally sound dog food with me,” I said. “And he wasn’t starving, and at the time I didn’t know the poor thing had been orphaned.”

He continued to gaze at me for a few moments, as if hoping I’d offer something more interesting.

“What kind of dog?” he asked, finally, though it sounded as if he was only asking to be polite.

“Big dog,” I said. “Maybe seventy-five or eighty pounds. Some kind of mixed hound. Very friendly.”

He nodded, then got up and strode off with a preoccupied look on his face. Just then Michael came out of the kitchen door and strolled over.

“He’s up to something,” I said.

“Your grandfather? Why do you think that?”

“He’s been asking me to tell him what I did today.”

“Egad,” he said. “I’ve been guilty of that a time or two myself, haven’t I?”

“Yes, but you’re actually interested in what I’ve been doing, or at least have a vested interest in pretending to be. Dr. Blake tends to ignore anything that doesn’t have an animal angle.”

“And your day didn’t?”

“Well, there was a dog. He seemed mildly interested in the dog.”

Michael nodded.

“If I go back there again, I’ll drop by and check out the canary farm,” I said. “Just so I can give him the lowdown. Though I can’t imagine why I’d want to go back. And odds are canaries are too mundane to intrigue him.”