Free 3 Panthers Play for Keeps by Clea Simon

up with him was getting a well-trained companion.
    Which I wasn’t, by any stretch of the imagination. Then again, that wasn’t a job I wanted. “So, what’s shaking?” I stared at my onetime beau. “Jim?”
    Creighton hadn’t sat either, though he motioned for me to take my place by the lovely Laurel on the couch. She had sat, crossing those long legs. I didn’t, and he nodded, as if in confirmation.
    “Hey, if you’re not going to tell me why you want me here, I’ve got clients to take care of.” That nod had pissed me off.
    “Maybe one less than you thought, Pru.” That stopped me. “We’re not sure how this is going to shake out yet.”
    I didn’t say anything. I didn’t have to. Laurel, by my side, was staring at him with an intensity that demanded an answer.
    Still, he could have kept us waiting.
    “The dog,” he said, after only a short pause, “the one you’re training?” I nodded. He turned toward Laurel. “You own him?”
    “I’m fostering him.” Laurel’s voice retained its control and warmth even as she corrected him.
    “But you both know that he’s going to Richard Haigen, right?”
    “I don’t think that’s been determined.” It was my turn to speak up. “I’ve begun to work with him, to see if he’s a good fit. Just because he could use a service dog doesn’t guarantee that he’ll get one.” I paused, thought about who Haigen was—or had been. “Or not this one.”
    Creighton nodded, as if he’d heard what I’d left unsaid. “I don’t imagine Haigen misses out on a lot that he wants. Certainly, his wife doesn’t seem to think so.”
    That was an eyebrow-raiser, and I waited for more. Laurel, however, was getting impatient.
    “You may be making an invalid assumption, Detective.” I liked her for that, even if the formality seemed a little strained. “True, Mr. Haigen has more resources than many of us. However, that kind of bounty can make his growing disability feel even more unfair. As if he were being forced to pay some kind of karmic tax.”
    “Oh?” Creighton looked faintly amused.
    Laurel took the bait. “Yes, he’s rich. And, I gather, he can be difficult. But he’s dealing with a lot of change right now. Not just with his eyesight, but with the decision to relocate and disperse his staff. And, really, the routines formed between him and his wife were established ages ago. I’m not going to comment more on this, although I gather you observed something of an unhealthy dynamic. All I ask is that you keep in mind that he’s in pain.”
    “His eyes?” Creighton started to speak, but Laurel waved him off.
    “Psychically. For a man like Haigen, a man who has had everything—and who has surrounded himself with great beauty—to lose his eyesight is devastating.”
    “Yeah, it’s not like he’s a working stiff.” I couldn’t resist. “Like a truck driver or someone who actually needs to see to make a living.”
    “Pru?” There was a lift in his tone now. Creighton was enjoying this. Lucky for him, I had the bit in my teeth now.
    “Richard Haigen is a spoiled brat. I’m sorry he doesn’t have anyone else around to yell at anymore, but he treats his wife like crap, and she takes it. I don’t know if it’s because he’s richer than Croesus, or because she likes it. Some women do. What I do know is that she’s devoted to him. And if she could put herself in a dog suit and follow him around all day, he wouldn’t need Spot here. But he does—or he’s going to, soon. And whether or not Spot ends up being that dog, he’s going to make someone a hell of a service companion.”
    It was as long a speech as I’d made before either of them in quite a while. Laurel looked surprised, but Creighton was smiling. Which didn’t improve my mood.
    “And so why, Detective, are you asking us about Haigen? And don’t tell me they’ve passed laws against rich guys being obnoxious. Not in this country, they haven’t.” I paused. “I’d have heard.”