Free Barbara Silkstone - Wendy Darlin 02 - London Broil by Barbara Silkstone

fanny at all the boy dogs and had taken a piece out of the FedEx man.
    If Smith dared to show up, I was sure Dakato Tishler, a Miniature Schnauzer, would hump his leg until he fell over. Once the puppy posse circled their wagons, nothing carrying testicles was going to get near my condo. Treanna and Matty would be safe in Dogville.
    I finally fell asleep, dreaming Roger and Darcy were getting married in front of the pyramids and Mr. Smith was officiating. I woke up in a dizzy sweat at four and couldn’t get back to sleep. The threats I would unleash on Smith started to filter through. Why is it thinking is so much easier in the wee hours of the morning?
    At exactly seven in the morning, I pulled into the alley behind Matty’s house in the Lemon City section of Miami and knocked on the door. She and Treanna were ready with their bags in their hands. I grabbed Tinkerbelle’s leash and popped her in the car, then threw their luggage in the trunk. The whole operation took less than five minutes.
    Treanna jumped up and down until I scooped her into the car. She chattered during the entire drive from her house to the beach. As we approached the towering building I called home, she gulped and became silent. This was the child’s first real holiday, and her fears surfaced as we pulled past the guard gate.
    “I don’t want to meet anybody here. I already know a lot of people, and until one of them dies, I couldn’t possibly meet another,” she said as she put on her big dark glasses.
    “It’s okay honey. My neighbors are all very nice, but I don’t expect you to talk to them. You just have fun watching videos and coloring with Grandma Matty. I’m going to buy you the biggest box of crayons you ever saw. With double magentas.
    As I drove into my garage, Tinkerbelle began scratching at the window. “Grab her leash,” I said as I swung open the car door. Dog and child went flying with Tink choosing one of the pack’s favorite bushes to pee on. Treanna laughed as she scolded her pup, “Naughty dog.”
    Poor Matty had that wide-eyed displaced disaster victim look on her face as she stepped from my car. I wished I could offer more comfort but the rest of my super plan hadn’t materialized yet.
    Cocoa Weiner, a silky Shih Tzu, and Bentley Goldman, a mini-Maltese, ran into my garage howling like an eight-legged beast. Tinkerbelle barked in response, her shrill voice bouncing off the garage walls. Pop! A manicured hand yanked the intruders’ leashes. The pooches rose in the air and flipped out of sight. I pressed the button and lowered the door.
    Treanna clung to me. “It’s okay Tre… they’re friendly.” Terror and trust tangoed in her dark eyes as we carried her small purple backpack into my living room. She plopped down on the floor cuddling Tink.

Chapter 19
    T reanna and I spent the morning building a tent out of sheets and lightweight blankets. When “Fort Tinkerbelle” was complete, I crawled into the tent like a dog, carrying a bag of pretzels in my mouth and a bottle of chocolate milk tucked in my belt. Tre hooted with laughter while Tinkerbelle barked in fear. “It’s me Tink!” I rolled over on the floor trying to convince the dog I wasn’t a monster.
    CNN played quietly in the background. The drone of news from London hadn’t changed in days. A record-breaking heat wave had invaded the British Isles. No one was immune. City folks were dying as they sought respite in many of the ancient stone buildings. Air conditioning was rare in the UK and frequently inadequate. Only old, damp structures might provide escape from the heat that continued at over one hundred degrees.
    Treanna tapped my arm. “Please turn that off so we can have a private conversation.” She sounded so grown-up it startled me.
    I flicked off the set and crawled back into our tent. Matty snored softly on the sofa.
    “Here’s what I really want to know.” The child looked up at me, her pupils lit like two iridescent marbles. “What