Again and again, Peaches’ nails scraped against the floor, the sound seeming to intensify with every happy wag of the dog’s bushy tail. I stood there, a wave of frustration washing over me. There was no way I could hope to sneak up on Delov, not with my pesky little shadow skipping along beside me, and I couldn’t kill the dog to make him be quiet—I just couldn’t.

I supposed I could lock Peaches in a room or a closet somewhere, but that would probably just make him start barking and reveal my location before I could scurry away. Delov would hear the noise and come running, ready to beat me to death with his massive fists—

Click-click-click. Click-click-click.

Peaches circled me again, wondering why I’d stopped petting him. I shook my head in frustration. I had to find a way to get the dog to stop making so much noise—

Noise.

My eyes narrowed in thought. Peaches wasn’t going to be quiet—it wasn’t in his nature. But maybe I didn’t need the dog to be quiet. Maybe I needed him to make as much noise as possible.

As fast as I could, I crept back to the kitchen, where Fletcher and Delov had had their earlier fight. I stepped inside, my gaze sweeping over the appliances and other furnishings until I found what I wanted: a glass container of gourmet dog biscuits on one of the counters.

I went over, opened the container, and pulled out several of the biscuits. Peaches’ black nose quivered with anticipation. I had his complete attention now.

“You want one of these, boy?” I whispered to the fluffball.

The Pomeranian pranced around, letting out hopeful, squeaky yips. I winced at the noise and quickly fed the dog one of the biscuits to quiet him down. I might not need him to be dead silent, but I needed to get the critter and myself in place before Peaches started yapping again.

I held out another dog biscuit, waving it over Peaches’ fluffy head. “Come on, boy,” I whispered again. “Follow me for your treat.”

Keeping an eye out for Delov, I hurried back toward the library, where I’d left Fletcher. I stopped outside the entrance and took a moment to crumble the dog biscuits into small, bite-size pieces. I scattered some of the biscuits around the library entrance, then tossed a few more deeper into the room. They didn’t make a sound as they tumbled over the thick Persian rugs.

Peaches hesitated a moment, not sure whether he wanted to stay with me or sniff out the food I’d promised him. After a second, the dog decided on the treats and moved toward the library. I slid back into the shadows and crouched down beside a table on the opposite side of the hall about fifteen feet away from the library entrance.