10
The next morning, Byrd showed up in a red Chevy Malibu at quarter to eight. Diana greeted him at the door with a wagging tail and a few friendly barks. Byrd looked a little wary. “He bite?”
“She,” I corrected. I grabbed her by the collar and pulled her back as I let him inside. “And in answer to your question, no. Diana’s friendly.”
Byrd walked in carrying a gear bag over his shoulder. He wore a heavy leather jacket over a navy-blue T-shirt. “She’s cute. My pittie, Peaches, loves people. Not so good around other dogs, though.”
“Thanks. She keeps me sane or as close to it as I come.” I pointed toward the hallway. “Diana, go lay down.” She trotted back to my bedroom.
“You want some coffee?” I offered.
“Naw, just ready to get this show on the road.”
I flicked off the coffeepot. “Sou
