He didn’t tell her that he didn’t need this job to get back on his feet. He had both plenty of money and plenty of direction. “How much do you know about my friendship with your dad?”

“He talked about you a lot, so I know quite a bit. I know that you arrived at the penitentiary not long after he did.”

“Right.”

“How long had he been there when you got there? A year or so?”

He inclined his chin.

“Dad’s fellow inmates knew that I lived in Misty River. So they told Dad you were from here. He made a point of introducing himself to you and liked you from the start.”

“He was a good man.”

“Yes, he was.” Above, the clouds shifted. The first sunbeams of the day moved across the yard, sparkling against her rings. “Last summer, he told me that you’d be coming up for parole in the fall. He knew that you’d gotten a bachelor’s degree and master’s degree in computer science while in prison. He also knew that Furry Tails was in the market for a new website. You see, we need a more sophisticated way of matching available animals with people looking for certain criteria in a dog. We want to sell merchandise from our site. We want a platform for online fundraisers. We could really use more effective SEO, newsletters, ads, and social media. In my dad’s eyes, you’re a tech genius.”

“Your dad was over eighty. I think he viewed everyone my age as a tech genius.”

“No. He was hard to impress. If he thought someone was a genius in an area, he or she probably is a genius.”

He grunted.

The small dog with three legs stopped and gave Finley begging eyes. She scooped it into her arms. “Are we agreed that you’re enough of a genius to handle Furry Tails’ tech needs?”

“We’re agreed.”

“Excellent.” Carrying the dog, she led him back inside. After she pushed open the door marked Offices with her foot, they walked into a room with three desks on one side, facing windows. An island with storage below and a worktop above was positioned at the center of the space. A printer, copier, fax machine, water cooler, coffee bar, and mini fridge filled the wall across from the desks.

“This is our central work area. And this desk will be yours.” Supporting the dog with one hand, she indicated the desk farthest from the hallway with the other. “Do you have a computer, or do you need me to supply one?”

“I brought my own desktop computer. It’s in my truck.”

“Perfect. These two desks belong to Kat and Trish. They’re working today, but not in the office. They’re out doing home visits for prospective adoptive parents.”