Free Unleashed (A Sydney Rye Novel, # 1) by Emily Kimelman Page A

don’t need to worry about it today.”
    “Alright. Do you want me to come back for his evening walk?”
    “No, I can do it.” She sighed and looked past me at something not in the room.
    “I’ll get going then.”
    “Sure.” I walked past her and out of the house. That was close. Why did I do that? Did those papers say something about life insurance?

 
     
    Creepy
     
    The next morning, on the subway, leaning over a man reading the New York Times , I learned that the police were looking for Charlene Miller. She was not a suspect. They just needed her to answer a couple of questions. The article also said that a search of the victim’s home had turned up some interesting leads.
    The dog run was buzzing when I arrived. All the ladies came hurrying over to me. “Did you see the paper?” Fiona asked.
    “Yeah. It’s crazy.”
    “Do you know where Charlene is?” Marcia asked.
    “I wish. I only met her right before I took over the route. I don’t know anything about her. Have you guys heard from her?” I asked.
    “None of us were that close to her,” Marcia said. Fiona nodded. I turned to Elaine but she just shrugged.
    “What’s her deal? Charlene’s I mean. None of you knew her at all?”
    “She didn’t really hang out with the likes of us,” Fiona said.
    “What do you mean?”
    “All I’m going to say is that I guess membership in the Biltmore Club can’t protect you from everything.”
    “What is that supposed to mean?” I asked.
    “All I’m saying is that being the newest member of the Biltmore Club didn’t do her much good did it?”
    “I didn’t know she was the ‘newest member.’ Are you a member?”
    Fiona cast her eyes away. “I wouldn’t join them if they begged me. They are all snobs, think they run the city don’t they?”
    “Oh stop it Fiona,” Marcia said.
    “I’m really lost, what is the Biltmore Club?”
    Fiona opened her mouth to answer, but Marcia cut her off. “It’s a private New York Club with some very influential members.”
    “They only let women become members in the mid-90s,” Elaine said.
    “Another reason I would never join,” Fiona interjected.
    “You know that gorgeous townhouse in the Mews covered in ivy?” Elaine asked, her eyes wide with admiration.
    I thought for a moment and remembered a townhouse right across from the park that was   coated in a large green vine. The plant looked like some giant green mumpet that was eating the roof and would eventually get at all the inhabitants. “Yeah, I know what you’re talking about.”
    “It’s beautiful isn’t it?” Elaine asked.
    “Easily impressed,” Fiona muttered.
    “Charlene was a member. Isn’t it hard to join?”
    Marcia answered me, “She must have some friends in some pretty high up places. You have to be sponsored by a member and then voted in or some such nonsense.”
    I left the run, thoughts of the Biltmore Club floating in my mind.
    The Sapersteins door flew open as soon as I knocked. “Where is Charlene, and what does she have to do with this?” Jackie demanded. Her hair looked like it had been slept on wet.
    “I don’t know.”
    “What do you mean you don’t know? How could you not know?”
    “You’d be surprised how much I don’t know.” She glared at my attempt at a joke. I laughed uncomfortably. It echoed in the hall. “Would you like me to walk Snaffles?” I smiled.
    “Come in.” She moved aside, and I walked into the apartment. The dark blue drapes were drawn, but the sunlight managed to shoot through creating shafts of bright light in the otherwise dark room. Mrs. Saperstein walked to the kitchen. Snaffles was curled up in a ball in the corner, asleep.
    “He looks tired,” I said because I didn’t know what else to say.
    “I’ve been walking him a lot. We’ve been walking a lot.” Her eyes shone through the half-light.
    “Have you given him his lunch?”
    She smiled. “Yes.”
    “OK, then I’ll take him out.”
    “OK.”
    “Come on,