“Agreed. But we do seem fascinated by killing. As a species, I mean. I wrote this article a while back, about the relationship between pet owners and gun violence, and—”

“Maybe we should change the subject,” Blythe cut in. “I think maybe death and killing aren't really the note we want to be striking. Not right now.”

He flicked his eyes in Blythe’s direction.

“Sheesh. You’re right. Sorry, Mom. I just get carried away with—”

“It’s alright, sweetheart. I tell you what, why don’t we talk about what we’re going to do over the next few days. Maybe map out an itinerary: favorite places, favorite eateries, new places, new eateries. I really want to enjoy it if I can.”

“Sounds good to me,” replied Rose, lowering her voice when Bellamy got up to fish the Labrador’s stick out of a bush thicket it was struggling with. “Will, um, Belmont be joining us?”

Her mother rolled her eyes. “Yes.”

“What? Everywhere?”

Blythe nodded. “It’s up to him, of course. But I’ve told him he’s welcome to tag along whenever he wants.”

“Yeah? That’s…disappointing.” Rose lobbed her final chunk of bread into the middle of the flock, sparking a free-for-all. “I was kinda hoping we could spend some time together. Alone.”

Her mom pondered that for a while, then said, “Sweetheart, there’s something you should know. I probably wouldn’t be here at all if it wasn’t for him.”

“What do you mean? Mom, why won’t you tell me what’s really going on between you two?”

“I will. I promise. In time.”

“Well, you picked the wrong daughter to keep secrets from. I’ve got skills, you know.”

“Oh yeah? So have I, Slick.”

“I’m going to get to the truth if I have to shoot the two of you up with Sodium Pentothal.”

Blythe smiled a mysterious smile, then offered her hand. “I just need you to trust me, okay? Only for the next few days.”

Rose took her mother’s hand, kissed it. “I do. I will. But I still think we should ditch the dork.”

Chapter Three

Chapter Three