Free Inner Harbor by Nora Roberts Page A

sloppy doggie grin.
    â€œNice dog,” she managed in a stutter. “Good dog.”
    â€œStupid dog,” Phillip corrected and hauled Foolish down by the collar. “No manners. Sit. Sorry,” he said to Sybill when the dog obligingly plopped down and offered his paw. “He’s Foolish.”
    â€œWell, he’s enthusiastic.”
    â€œNo, Foolish is his name—and his personality. He’ll stay like that until you shake his paw.”
    â€œOh. Hmm.” Gingerly she took the paw with two fingers.
    â€œHe won’t bite.” Phillip angled his head, noting there was a good deal more distress than irritation in her eyes. “Sorry—are you afraid of dogs?”
    â€œI . . . maybe a little—of large, strange dogs.”
    â€œHe’s strange, all right. The other one’s Simon, and he’s considerably more polite.” Phillip scratched Simon’s ears asthe dog sat calmly studying Sybill. “He’s Ethan’s. The idiot belongs to Seth.”
    â€œI see.” Seth had a dog, was all she could think as Foolish offered his paw yet again, eyeing her with what appeared abject adoration. “I don’t know very much about dogs, I’m afraid.”
    â€œThese are Chesapeake Bay retrievers—or Foolish mostly is. We’re not sure what else he is. Seth, call off your dog before he slobbers all over the lady’s shoes.”
    Sybill lifted her head quickly and saw the boy just inside the doorway. The sun was streaming at his back, and it cast his face into shadows. She saw only a tall, slightly built boy carrying a large brown bag and wearing a black-and-orange ball cap.
    â€œHe doesn’t slobber much. Hey, Foolish!”
    Instantly, both dogs scrambled to their feet and raced across the room. Seth waded through them, carrying the bag to a makeshift table fashioned from a sheet of plywood laid over two sawhorses.
    â€œI don’t know why I have to always go up for lunch and stuff,” he complained.
    â€œBecause we’re bigger than you,” Cam told him and dived into the bag. “You get me the cold-cut sub loaded?”
    â€œYeah, yeah.”
    â€œWhere’s my change?”
    Seth pulled a liter of Pepsi out of the bag, cracked the top and guzzled straight from the bottle. Then he grinned. “What change?”
    â€œLook, you little thief, I’ve got at least two bucks coming back.”
    â€œDon’t know what you’re talking about. You must’ve forgotten to add on the carrying charges again.”
    Cam made a grab for him, and Seth danced agilely away, hooting with laughter.
    â€œBrotherly love,” Phillip said easily. “That’s why I makesure I only give the kid the right change. You never see a nickel back otherwise. Want some lunch?”
    â€œNo, I . . .” She couldn’t take her eyes off Seth, knew she had to. He was talking with Ethan now, making wide, exaggerated gestures with his free hand while his dog took quick, playful leaps at his fingers. “I had something already. But you go ahead.”
    â€œA drink, then. Did you get my water, kid?”
    â€œYeah, fancy water. Waste of money. Man, Crawford’s was packed.”
    Crawford’s. With a sensation she couldn’t quite define, Sybill realized they might have been in the store at the same time. Might have walked right by each other. She would have passed him on the street without a clue.
    Seth glanced from Phillip to Sybill, studied her with mild interest. “You buying a boat?”
    â€œNo.” He didn’t recognize her, she thought. Of course he wouldn’t. He’d been hardly more than a baby the only time they’d seen each other. There was no stunned familial awareness in his eyes, any more than there would have been in hers. But she knew. “I’m just looking around.”
    â€œThat’s cool.” He went back to the bag and pulled out his