She served up the first steaks, along with the mushrooms she’d cooked carefully to one side of the grill, then moved on to the next batch and the vegetable kebabs Lillian had prepared as a side.

“Those look delicious,” Emilia said from behind her. Morgan caught the undefinable scent of her perfume.

“You didn’t get some this round?” She turned in time to catch Emilia tucking a lock of hair behind her ear.

“I gave mine to Stevie.”

Morgan glared at Stevie, who didn’t notice. She’d chosen a particularly fine slice for Emilia. “I’ll make sure some gets to you this time.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re always fine,” Morgan said, keeping her voice light. “I see you lost your hitchhiker.”

“She left me to go beg.”

“Her, ‘I only have one front paw, look at how sad I am’ routine is pretty effective. Nell didn’t want to come?”

“She sometimes gets overwhelmed in crowds, and then I stress over her, and…” Emilia trailed off and made a looping gesture with her hand.

“Where’d you get her?”

“Greyhound rescue I worked with. She had a really bad case of anaplasma, and the rescue couldn’t afford to treat it. I couldn’t bring myself to put her down.” She looked away. “I’ve put down hundreds of animals. But not Nell.”

“Some dogs are just like that. They reach up inside you—” she brandished the tongs she was using to rotate the kebabs—"and steal your heart.”

“They really do.” Emilia’s voice was soft and sad, and Morgan barely refrained from wrapping her arms around her.

“A client gave me Kraken. Her bitch had a huge litter. I was at the farm, and the little fucker clamped onto my boot with his teeth and wouldn’t let go. Followed me all over the place.”

“Does he still bite shoes?”

“Steals them. Sometimes he buries them in Lil’s garden, which is actually convenient, because it means we get them back.”

“Nell’s into dirty underwear.”

Morgan shook her head. “Classy girl. Dogs, man. What do you think cat people talk about?”

“Mr. Twinkly knocked my drink off the counter again!” Emilia said in a high, nasal voice.

Morgan burst into laughter.

“What?” Emilia said in the same voice.

“I did not expect that.”

“You live with Stevie. Shouldn’t you expect anything?”

“Yeah, but Stevie’s a freak. You’re . . .” She trailed off.

“You don’t think I’m a freak?” Emilia asked in her normal voice. Well, not quite normal. It was the same voice she’d used to tease Morgan about how she’d get tips working at the bar. Her pulse leapt.

“I’m still compiling evidence.”

“Thank you for inviting me, by the way. I like your friends a lot.”

“Don’t be too nice to them, or they’ll end up being your friends, too.” She shoved her hands in her back pockets to avoid a second burn.

“I’d like that.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Listen.” Morgan looked around to make sure nobody was about to demand more food. “Whatever’s going on with you and the field, you don’t have to talk about it. I mean, you can if you want to, but don’t feel that you owe any of us an explanation.”