Free 2 Any Meat In That Soup? by Jerilyn Dufresne

because of the errant zipper on the jacket. “C’mon, Clancy. Let’s go.”
    It only took a moment for us to get out the door and head for our usual morning walk through our neighborhood. Clancy led the way and I didn’t have to think about the walk itself. She knew when to stop, when to go, and when to smell squirrel tracks.
    “I know I haven’t talked to you much about these deaths. But I’m having trouble even finding clues. If it’s okay, I’ll go over the suspects with you.”
    She turned and smiled as she walked. I knew that meant “okay.”
    “There are three people who were present for all the deaths, and one who may have been there for all of them.” Suddenly, something hit me. “Damn. I forgot to ask George if any of the dogs had been autopsied. I wonder if they died from the same poison.”
    Clancy didn’t like hearing that. She shrugged off a shiver and kept going. “Sorry, Clance. Don’t worry. I’ll keep you safe.”
    We were soon at the turnaround point, and Clancy automatically did just that. I decided to forget about problems and began singing George M. Cohan songs from the first World War. That livened up both of us. Clancy seemed to march in time to the rhythm, just as thousands of soldiers had almost a century ago.
    When we got home I quickly showered and dressed for work. Today I’d work at both the Clinic and the hospital. My first appointment wasn’t until nine, so I took a moment to check on the therapy dog test. Luckily, I had sent everything in just in time. There was a test this weekend in Chatham, a small town near the state capitol of Springfield. I entered my credit card information to pay for the test, reminded myself to practice the necessary skills with Clancy before then, and promised Clancy I’d be home for dinner. As I left, I stopped at Michael’s office on the way to the Clinic. His office was downtown in one of the old buildings that had been converted to small offices. Great for start-ups and for business’s like Michael’s which, only consisted of one or two people.
    I found his office door open and walked in. Michael was sitting there doing two things—looking worried and looking incredibly handsome. My crush was still in full swing, even though I’d made out with George.
    He didn’t see me so I politely cleared my throat.
    “Sam. Sorry. I’m glad to see you.”
    That set my pulse racing. “It’s good to see you too. I came in to give you a report on the suspects.”
    He nodded, but looked like his mind was elsewhere.
    I asked, “I have information on the autopsies. Do you?”
    He shook his head so I filled him in. I also told him again about Carter, and how I’d followed him. Of course Michael reminded me that my job wasn’t to follow people. As usual I ignored what he was saying. I was a grown up and knew what my job was. Then I asked him if he had any other information. He shook his head again. I wasn’t getting my “evil vibes” but this sure felt funny. Normally Michael was attentive and suddenly he was almost ignoring me.
    There’s nothing subtle about me, so I said, “Is something wrong?”
    He replied with the normal answer, “No, why?”
    “You just seem preoccupied.”
    “Nah. There’s just something I need to talk to you about.”
    This time I was confident he wasn’t going to say he loved me, and surprisingly, I was okay with that. “Well, just do it. I’m not good at waiting.” I sat down in one of the ultra-modern office chairs in front of his desk.
    “I’m finding it hard to work with you on this case, because…”
    Because he loved me? Because he hated me? Because…
    Michael hesitated. “…‌because of Jenny’s involvement.”
    My sputtering caused him to stand up and come around the desk. He sat in another chair next to me. “I know you are positive she had nothing to do with it. Since you are so biased, I wonder if you’re the right person to help with the investigation.”
    Whew. It had nothing to do with