And she’d discovered she didn’t want to be on her own. So she’d pulled Charlie onto the bed and slept with her arms wrapped around his solid body, comforted by his warmth and his presence. Only with animals had she ever felt able to truly relax her guard. Hero had slept across the door, apparently determined to live up to his name.
She stroked Charlie’s silky fur with one hand and checked the caller ID with the other.
Harriet.
“What time do you call this?”
“Six in the morning. Did I wake you? You’re usually up by now.”
“Is everything all right?” Fliss rubbed her eyes, suddenly worried about her sister. “Is there a problem?” Her head throbbed from crying.
“Not with me. I heard the news! Matilda called me. You’re a heroine.”
“She called you?” Fliss groped on the nightstand for painkillers. If this was how a heroine felt, she didn’t want to repeat the experience in a hurry. “How is she?”
“Doing well, thanks to you.”
“I didn’t do a thing.”
“That wasn’t how she tells it.”
“I was jus
t in the right place at the right time.” Or the wrong place at the wrong time, depending how you looked at it. She swallowed the pills along with a glass of water.
“She said Seth was there, too. And that she blew your identity. She’s feeling guilty and worried about you.”
“No need.” She put the empty glass down. “Turns out Seth knew who I was all along.”
“Really? So why didn’t he say anything?”
“He was waiting for me to tell him.”
“Did you talk?”
No, I sobbed myself dry on his shoulder. “We exchanged a few words.”
“That’s it?”
Fliss sighed and forced herself out of bed. Still holding the phone, she padded into the bathroom and stared at herself in the mirror.
“Jeez. I can’t believe I look this bad when I didn’t even have a drink. There is no justice.” She still had streaks of mascara under her eyes, and her hair looked as if she’d dived headfirst into a bush. “I’m all dressed for Halloween, and it isn’t even July.”
“Are you avoiding my question?”
Fliss scrubbed at the smears of black under her eyes. “I don’t even remember your question. That’s how bad I feel.”
“I want to know about Seth. And I want to know how you are. It must have been difficult for you.”
“No.” She might have stood more chance of convincing her sister if Charlie hadn’t picked that moment to bark.
“Who is that?”
“It’s Charlie. Who else would it be?”
“What’s he doing in the bedroom? You barely tolerate Charlie.”
Fliss thought back to the night before, remembering how she’d lifted the dog onto the bed and held him on her lap until he’d settled down. “He was hard to shake off, and I was too tired to fight it.”