turning off the television. Had anyone heard her? She scrambled to get the DVD out of the machine, fumbling to put it back into its case and then into the drawer where she’d found it. She wasn’t likely to forget what she’d seen. The images were burned in her memory.
Milyi jumped off the bed, scratching at the door, anxious to be out. Petra fumbled in her pocket for the key, hands shaking. She couldn’t believe she’d been so stupid! What was she thinking, coming in here, snooping around? What had she expected to find?
She thought about the other black jewel cases in the drawer, presumably full of DVDs like the one she’d just watched. How many women had her husband been with? Of course, she knew he was a rock star, she knew there had been groupies—hundreds of them. Maybe thousands. But they’d both been thoroughly tested, and he was past all that. He’d told her so.
“Hang on, Milyi!” Petra unlocked the door, her little pug bouncing around her feet in excitement, jumping at the opening. In his eagerness, Milyi knocked her off balance and the key slipped from her hand, falling to the floor. The dog yipped excitedly, thinking they were playing a game, and grabbed the leather fob between his teeth, scrabbling out of the doorway.
“Milyi!” she called, racing after the naughty animal. He skidded on the tile around the corner and started down the stairs, Petra close on his heels. “Bad dog! Give that back!”
She had to get that key! If she didn’t, Blue would know she’d been in his room—and how could she possibly explain that?
“No!” she cried, following the pug around the corner, down another hallway, another corner, past open doors, closed ones. Where were they? After three months, she still didn’t know her way around the house well enough not to get turned around and lost on occasion. “Milyi! Drop it!”
He ignored her command, putting on speed the moment she got closer, slowing a little when she did as well, teasing her, playing his usual game of “fetch,” the leather fob held tightly in his teeth, the key dangling down. The dog’s nails clattered on the tile as he took a sharp corner, this time heading down another flight of stairs.
“Bad, bad dog!” she panted, grabbing the handrail and rushing down the stairs after him. He’d gotten a good head start and she stopped at the bottom to see which way he’d gone. She found him waiting, curly tail wagging delightedly, the leather fob dropped to the floor. He was panting like she was, his pink tongue lolling out of the side of his mouth.
“Good boy,” she soothed, her voice light and high, changing tactics as she slowly approached him, her gaze on the key. “Good Milyi. Stay. Staaaaaay.”
He barked loudly, a warning, and she hesitated. She couldn’t remember what was down this hallway. Would he run into a dead-end? Then she saw the door her puppy was standing in front of and knew exactly where they were.
“Let’s go to bed,” she sang lightly, taking another step closer. “Come on, puppy, night-night time!”
He cocked his head at her, considering. His tail was wagging, tongue still out. He was tired. Maybe the fight had gone out of him. She knelt down, close enough to reach the key, but not moving.
“Good boy, come to Mama.”
The dog whined and started forward. Petra reached for the key at the same time, breathing a sigh of relief when it was firmly in her hand. Milyi barked in protest but his heart wasn’t in it. He still looked at her, head cocked, not sure what she was up to. The game was over, but he didn’t trust her not to change her mood from saccharine sweet back to angry.
Then a loud, muffled crash came from behind the door, startling them both. Petra gasped, her hand going to her throat. Milyi barked, his nose instantly at the crack under the door, sniffing wildly. She sat back on her heels, contemplating the door with its intricate carvings,
Milyi jumped off the bed, scratching at the door, anxious to be out. Petra fumbled in her pocket for the key, hands shaking. She couldn’t believe she’d been so stupid! What was she thinking, coming in here, snooping around? What had she expected to find?
She thought about the other black jewel cases in the drawer, presumably full of DVDs like the one she’d just watched. How many women had her husband been with? Of course, she knew he was a rock star, she knew there had been groupies—hundreds of them. Maybe thousands. But they’d both been thoroughly tested, and he was past all that. He’d told her so.
“Hang on, Milyi!” Petra unlocked the door, her little pug bouncing around her feet in excitement, jumping at the opening. In his eagerness, Milyi knocked her off balance and the key slipped from her hand, falling to the floor. The dog yipped excitedly, thinking they were playing a game, and grabbed the leather fob between his teeth, scrabbling out of the doorway.
“Milyi!” she called, racing after the naughty animal. He skidded on the tile around the corner and started down the stairs, Petra close on his heels. “Bad dog! Give that back!”
She had to get that key! If she didn’t, Blue would know she’d been in his room—and how could she possibly explain that?
“No!” she cried, following the pug around the corner, down another hallway, another corner, past open doors, closed ones. Where were they? After three months, she still didn’t know her way around the house well enough not to get turned around and lost on occasion. “Milyi! Drop it!”
He ignored her command, putting on speed the moment she got closer, slowing a little when she did as well, teasing her, playing his usual game of “fetch,” the leather fob held tightly in his teeth, the key dangling down. The dog’s nails clattered on the tile as he took a sharp corner, this time heading down another flight of stairs.
“Bad, bad dog!” she panted, grabbing the handrail and rushing down the stairs after him. He’d gotten a good head start and she stopped at the bottom to see which way he’d gone. She found him waiting, curly tail wagging delightedly, the leather fob dropped to the floor. He was panting like she was, his pink tongue lolling out of the side of his mouth.
“Good boy,” she soothed, her voice light and high, changing tactics as she slowly approached him, her gaze on the key. “Good Milyi. Stay. Staaaaaay.”
He barked loudly, a warning, and she hesitated. She couldn’t remember what was down this hallway. Would he run into a dead-end? Then she saw the door her puppy was standing in front of and knew exactly where they were.
“Let’s go to bed,” she sang lightly, taking another step closer. “Come on, puppy, night-night time!”
He cocked his head at her, considering. His tail was wagging, tongue still out. He was tired. Maybe the fight had gone out of him. She knelt down, close enough to reach the key, but not moving.
“Good boy, come to Mama.”
The dog whined and started forward. Petra reached for the key at the same time, breathing a sigh of relief when it was firmly in her hand. Milyi barked in protest but his heart wasn’t in it. He still looked at her, head cocked, not sure what she was up to. The game was over, but he didn’t trust her not to change her mood from saccharine sweet back to angry.
Then a loud, muffled crash came from behind the door, startling them both. Petra gasped, her hand going to her throat. Milyi barked, his nose instantly at the crack under the door, sniffing wildly. She sat back on her heels, contemplating the door with its intricate carvings,
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