Lexi and Junior were awake by then, too. By the time the confrontation between Mom and Monica got heated, Grace had brought the children downstairs, ostensibly to fix them breakfast, but Troy suspected that the woman actually wanted the kids to have a front row seat to the chaos. Both of the kids were weepy, upset with the idea that they would never see Duchess again.

It was a helluva way to kick off a Sunday morning.

He was relieved to go back outside where he could enjoy relative quiet. He had draped the dog’s bed blanket across his arm, intending to bundle her in it and place a call to the local pet crematory company. Although Duchess had been Monica’s companion more so than his, he couldn’t expect his wife to attend to these matters; she had enough to deal with and handling the dog’s cremation was the least he could do to ease her burdens.

Outdoors, gazing at the dog’s lifeless, blood-streaked body, he bit back tears. What the hell had really happened back here? Had a coyote come across Duchess? A vicious, stray dog? Some other predator that roamed the forest? He really didn’t understand what could have eviscerated the sweet little fur ball.

“Such a shame,” Grace said, behind him. Troy flinched; he hadn’t realized that she was there in the woods, no more than ten feet away from him. Wearing a red parka with a fur-lined hood, she clucked her tongue. “She was such an adorable little mutt.”

“She was AKC-certified, far from a mutt,” Troy said.

“Of course.” Grace smiled thinly. “Nonetheless, it’s sad.”

“I didn’t think there was much love lost between you, too,” Troy said. “I’d assume you were glad that she’s gone.”

Grace only looked at him, that thin smile resting on her lips as if painted in place.

“Speaking of gone,” Troy said. “What time are you hitting the road today?”

“I’m not leaving.” Grace chuckled. “I’ve decided that I’ll be staying for another week. My daughter and I have so much catching up to do. This weekend we’ve only scratched the surface.”

“You discussed this with Monica?” he asked.

“My daughter wants me here,” Grace said. “I just so happen to be available and willing to stay on to help out with the family a bit longer. Goodness knows your poor, absent-minded mother isn’t up to the task.” Grace clucked her tongue and glanced at the dog’s corpse.

Troy wasn’t often rendered speechless, but he literally didn’t know what to say. He knew what he should have said—you’re only a guest here and you can’t unilaterally decide to extend your visit—but he knew in his bones that Monica would take Grace’s side, that she wanted her mother there, and he didn’t want to upset her.