Free Unleashed (A Melanie Travis Mystery) by Laurien Berenson Page B

Tar, getting him ready for the show. I’d been here with Davey. We’d spoken on the phone briefly, and made plans for today.
    Maybe Sam didn’t have an alibi, I thought. But he didn’t have a motive either.
    “What about Brian? He and Sheila have been seeing each other. Were they together last night?”
    “Brian said no. He was working late at the office by himself. He said he wanted to make sure everything was perfect for today’s launch.” Sam grimaced. “The detective seemed skeptical, but I thought that sounded just like Brian. He’d choose financial success over a personal relationship any day.”
    Sam looked like he was speaking from experience. I wondered if that was why Sheila had left Brian a decade earlier. Aside from that love-at-first-sight thing.
    Sam’s eyes were closed again. Though it wasn’t late, he was fighting to stay awake. Effects of the alcohol, or of the day? Maybe he just needed the oblivion that sleep would bring.
    I walked to the closet in the front hall and got out a blanket. Sam rallied enough to see me coming. He shook his head. “Don’t take care of me.”
    “Why not?” I pulled his legs up onto the couch and spread the blanket over him. “Would you rather stay here or do you want me to help you upstairs?”
    “No, I don’t ...” His voice faded away.
    “You don’t need my help?”
    His next words were soft. I had to lean closer to hear them.
    “I don’t deserve it.”
    “Oh, Sam.” A tear hovered in the edge of my eye. Annoyed, I blinked it away. Sam didn’t notice. He was already snoring.
    I let the dogs out and back in, turned off the lights, and left him to sleep it off.

Eight

    Sunday morning I awoke to the aroma of fresh coffee and the sound of Nintendo. Faith and Tar had both been in my bedroom when I’d gone to bed. Now they were gone, downstairs with the game players, no doubt.
    Checking my clock, I saw that it was just past seven. I hoped Davey hadn’t awakened Sam too early. Throwing on a robe, I ventured down to find out.
    “Hey, Mom!” Davey yelled when he saw me. Just in case I couldn’t hear him across the expanse of our small living room. “Look who’s here!”
    Considering the shape I’d left him in, Sam looked remarkably well. His clothes were rumpled, his blond hair, damp from a shower. But the blue eyes were clear, and the day’s growth of beard looked pretty sexy.
    Immediately, he levered himself up off the couch. “Let me get you some coffee.”
    “But it’s almost your turn,” Davey complained.
    “Let Tar play for me,” Sam said. “If you can beat the puppy, we’ll let you try your hand against the grown-up dog.”
    We walked to the kitchen together, Sam trailing a somewhat hesitant halfstep behind. “I’m sorry about last night,” he said. “I probably should have gone home.”
    I let the gap close between us and wound my arms around his waist. “You did come home.”
    I felt him relax just a bit and hugged him to me harder. After all the time we’d been together, how could he still have any doubts about where he belonged?
    Sam squeezed me back for a moment, then stepped away and went to the cupboard for a mug. I almost followed, wanting to keep him close, but something about the way his gaze evaded mine held me back. Instead, I pulled out a chair at the kitchen table and sat down.
    “Did we have a chance to talk last night?” he asked. “Or did I fall asleep right away?”
    “We talked some. I still have plenty of questions.”
    “I figured you would. Shoot.”
    “Who found Sheila and called the police? What happened to all her Pugs? And at what point did you manage to get yourself pickled in alcohol?”
    Sam added milk to the mug of hot coffee and set it down in front of me, then pulled out a chair and sat, too. “Sheila was found by her next-door neighbor, Nancy Benning. Apparently the Pugs had been barking for much of Friday night, and they kept it up on Saturday. According to what Mrs. Benning told the police,