Elsie began to whine, soft little cries Ben recognized as words of comfort, and he relaxed his hold on her. Still whining, Elsie advanced on the little dog, who shrank back, flattening his enormous ears. Elsie pressed closer, sniffed him all over, then rather bossily began to lick him clean.

“They’ve made friends!” Lotti beamed, then turned to Ben. “Isn’t that wonderful? I’m Lotti, by the way. I live up at Barton Lacey.”

“I’m Ben,” said Ben. “I live here. And you still haven’t told me what you’re doing on my boat.”

Lotti, he noted, didn’t look the least bit repentant.

“Do you know a man called Malachy Campbell?” she asked. “Short and red, with a nose like a potato?”

“Everyone knows Malachy Campbell,” said Ben impatiently. “He’s Great Barton’s most famous crook. Look, I don’t know where this is going, but …”

“Would you mind just stepping up on deck and looking to see if he’s out there? If he’s not, I promise we’ll be on our way. I have to get home soon anyway. It’s very important that I’m not late, especially today. But Malachy Campbell is chasing me.”

This was not how Ben had imagined his homecoming. He had been looking forward to reclaiming the Sparrowhawk, unpacking, making her cozy again for him and Elsie.

This was … annoying.

But also interesting.

He leaned forward. “Why is Malachy Campbell chasing you?”

Lotti grinned. “Because I stole his dog.”

Chapter Two

“You stole Malachy Campbell’s dog?”

“Oh, please don’t shout! You’ll upset him.”

Ben lowered his voice. “You stole Malachy Campbell’s dog?”

“Very successfully.” Lotti bounced happily on the berth and brought her legs up to sit cross-legged, looking perfectly at home. “I can tell you all about it, if you like, but I warn you, in the eyes of the police, that would make you an accomplice.” She paused to think. “You may actually be an accomplice already. Technically, you may be harboring a fugitive. And hiding stolen goods. The dog being the goods. And also, I suppose, a fugitive. But I promise, if the police come, I’ll tell them it’s all my fault. And to be frank, I don’t think Mr. Campbell is the sort of person who would call the police. Shall I continue?”

Ben hesitated. On the one hand, he really didn’t want Malachy Campbell or the police or anyone to come round the Sparrowhawk asking questions. On the other …

“Why did you steal his dog?”

“Well, it’s a long story,” said Lotti. “Could he have some water first? And food? And please can you check Mr. Campbell isn’t out there? It would put my mind at rest.”

Ben climbed back up to the aft deck and looked up and down the towpath.

“Empty,” he confirmed.