Hounded to Death Read Online Free PDF

smiled. “All I need is an invitation.”
    Now that they’d navigated their way to common ground, the conversation was up and running. And the fact that Peg had been revealed as a minor celebrity in the dog community didn’t hurt either. Richard regarded her with fresh appreciation and she basked in his attention.
    No need to worry about her saying anything stupid. She could have told him that the moon was blue and he would have agreed.
    After the first few minutes I began to feel superfluous. Slowly I edged back from the closely grouped circle. None of them even noticed my retreat. Toting my warm ginger ale, I headed in the direction of the bar.
    Bertie hailed me as soon as I reached the counter. “Hey!” she cried, her voice raised to be heard above the din. “Come and meet my friend Alana.”
    As Bertie introduced us, Alana looked me coolly up and down. I recognized the tactic. She was checking out the competition and doing her best to make me feel about three inches tall in the process.
    Don’t get me wrong. In most situations I can more than hold my own. But there was something about the way Alana ran her flat gaze over my body that made me feel fat and unappealing. As if I’d been mentally compared to her svelte beauty and found wanting.
    â€œStop it,” Bertie ordered. She smacked her friend on the arm. “Melanie is my sister-in-law and my best friend. She’s not someone for you to chew up and spit out.”
    Bertie turned to me. “Don’t mind Alana. She doesn’t have many women friends.”
    â€œI can see why not,” I said.
    Bertie slid off her stool and offered it to me.
    Gratefully I hiked up and sat. It was nice to get off my feet.
    Alana cocked a brow.
    â€œPregnant,” I said. “Deal with it.”
    â€œWell, shit,” said Alana. “Why didn’t you say so in the first place?” She leaned over and gave me a hug. “Congratulations! When’s the baby due?”
    â€œMarch.”
    â€œBoy or girl?”
    â€œWe don’t know yet.”
    Alana waved to the bartender. “This deserves another drink!”
    News of my pregnancy had an immediate softening effect on her. Either she was genuinely happy for me or else this development had changed my status in her eyes. I’d been removed from the ranks of competitors and placed in a new category where friendship might be possible.
    â€œNot for me,” I said. “I find I have a limited tolerance for ginger ale. In fact I seem to have a limited tolerance for just about everything these days.”
    â€œI don’t blame you a bit,” said Bertie. She’d been pregnant just a year earlier. The experience was still fresh in her mind.
    â€œNeither do I,” Alana echoed in the spirit of our new kinship. She picked up her new drink and downed half of it in a single gulp. “If you ask me, tolerance is a highly overrated virtue.”
    Bertie leaned over and said, “How’s Peg doing? She seems to be surrounded by men. Is one of them the famous Richard?”
    â€œBroad shoulders, blue sweater.”
    â€œNot the tall one with the besotted look on his face?”
    â€œNo, that’s Marshall Beckham. An aspiring owner-handler. Apparently he thinks he’s in the presence of some sort of minor deity.”
    â€œPeg’s been known to have that effect on people.” Bertie shifted around and had another look. “Richard looks all right, doesn’t he? I’d say there’s definite potential there.”
    Alana leaned toward us to join the conversation. “Who are we talking about?”
    â€œRichard Donner,” I said. “Do you know him?”
    â€œSure,” Alana replied. “The guy who travels with his mother.”
    The din in the room made conversation difficult and for a moment I wondered whether I’d heard her wrong. Then I remembered the sweet looking, little old lady Richard had