Page 48 of Operation Protector
Ali thought she saw a flash of something in the other woman’s eyes. She was fairly sure it wasn’t gratitude. Maybe pleasure? Satisfaction?
More likely acceptance of the obsequious manner and tone as her due.
Taking that as incentive, she went on, still with that practiced smile. “You have my number, so of course if you need us to come back right away just call or text and we’ll come back at a run.”
“And just where do you plan on taking these walks?”
“I’ve been staying fairly close, not leaving the general neighborhood,” she promised, leaving the interpretation ofneighborhood open. “I need to learn my way around a bit, find some open places for the dogs to play. Ziggy needs to learn how to be on a leash, and Cutter needs the exercise. That last won’t hurt me, either.” She tried to make her smile look ingratiating but not fawning. “And maybe Grace will sleep better if we work off some energy.”
That seemed to register, and Ali wondered if the woman was thinking the child might be less recalcitrant if she was more tired. Ali also noticed the woman barely glanced at either of the dogs, and in Cutter’s case that seemed a good thing. Especially since the dog was rather casually inserting himself between Grace and her mother. Or maybe she was just imagining that. The dog was so smart, maybe she was giving him too much credit. But somehow she didn’t think so. When she’d brought the dog back a couple of hours before Liz’s expensive car had arrived, Hayley had explained once more how Foxworth had never gone wrong by trusting the dog’s instincts.
Ali and Grace waited for a decision, but apparently there was one more thing the queen had to be sure of.
“And if I said no?” Liz asked, as imperiously as if she truly were that monarch that kept popping into Ali’s mind.
“Then that’s the way it is,” Ali said simply. “You are her mother, and what you say goes.”
Again that look flashed in the dark eyes Ali couldn’t help thinking of as shadowy, but that was likely her overactive imagination. Or maybe the memory of that story Grace had written. Colby had shown it to her the day she’d first walked with Ziggy to Foxworth—she fought down the memory of that kiss—and she’d read the couple of pages with interest that had gradually turned to dismay. No wonder this had been the turning point for him. It was a simple yet appalling tale, and it made her want to grab Grace and run herself.
But apparently she’d hit the right tone, the right amount of submissiveness, because the woman nodded.
“All right,” she said. She looked at Grace. “You may go on these walks, as long as you check every day to make sure I don’t have something else planned for you. Is that clear?”
“Yes, Mother.”
Liz shifted her gaze to Ali. “You’re awfully generous with your time, to spend it with a troublesome child.”
Ali had to tamp down her reaction to that statement, made right in front of the child in question. That Grace barely reacted told her this wasn’t an unusual occurrence.
“Just trying to be a good neighbor,” she managed to say lightly enough.
“Thinking I might return the favor some day?” Liz asked, and Ali could almost feel the thunk as the woman slid her into one of her mental slots, that of someone trying to curry favor with the queen.
“I hope that never happens, of course,” Ali said, “but it’s nice to have friends close by, isn’t it?”
And I’d run all the way to Foxworth before I’d ask you for the time of day.
“Hmm,” was all Liz said.
Ali had had more than enough of the woman. She turned to Grace. “You ready to go?”
“Yes,” the child responded instantly. Ali could almost feel the child’s glee as she started toward the door. She put a hand on the girl’s shoulder to warn her not to let it show. She added a little squeeze as a reminder, and Grace looked back.
“Thank you, Mother.”
Liz looked almost startled. Her glance flicked to Ali, who gave her the best smile she could manage, wanting the woman to think she was pounding home to Grace the respect due to the woman in charge. It seemed to work, for the smile she gotin return seemed more sincere than any she’d gotten from the woman yet. Not that that was saying much.
They were down to the sidewalk in front of Ali’s house before Grace couldn’t hold it back and giggled. They made it past the stand of tall evergreens, which masked them from the big, fancy house, then Grace turned and threw her arms around Ali in a huge hug.
“Good job, sweetie,” she told the child. “Now, let’s get going. I’m going to carry Ziggy, so we’ll get there quicker. You take Cutter’s leash.” Grace gave the dog a wary look, given his size, but took the leather lead. “Hayley promised, he knows his job is to protect you, Grace. You have your very own guard dog.”
As if he’d understood, Cutter tilted his head and swiped his tongue across the back of Grace’s hand. The girl giggled again, and Ali thought she would do a great deal to hear a lot more of that lovely sound. She reached out to pet Cutter’s dark head. Her hand stopped mid-stroke, and she looked up at Ali, wide-eyed.
“He makes me feel so much better!”
“I know. It’s amazing, isn’t it? He gives me that same, warm, everything’s-going-to-be-all-right feeling.”
“Yes, that’s it.”
