The dog ignored her.
“Oh, Wink,” I said, “I’m so sorry. I know how close you and Dusty were—”
“I’m in hail.” Hell. Yeah; me, too. Her voice turned pleading. “Why would someone do this?”
“I don’t know. Do you want to come over to our place? I have to go out for a while, but my husband, Tom, and our family friend Julian Teller are here. I … just thought you might not want to be alone.”
“I can’t.” Caint. “King Richard is bringing over some work for me to do here at my house. The cops won’t let us back into … back into …” She started crying again, then clearly made a huge effort to stop. “I’d like to see you.”
“You want to come to our house later?” I asked. “Say for dinner?”
Another sob. “I don’t know. I’m not feeling so good. I want to know why someone did this. Can’t you help the cops?
