Page 97 of Little Bitter Truths
“It happened more than once,” Mia said.
The waiter returned with our drinks, setting them down one by one.
“Did you speak to Adrian about his dog?”Bryan asked.
“I did,” Mia said.“The first time, he was nice.That’s the part I hadn’t thought about until today.I was watering the plants near the front walk, and Moose wandered over.He was huge, but he was sweet.He put his head right against my hip like we were old friends.Adrian saw he was in my yard, and he rushed across the street apologizing.He seemed embarrassed.Charming, even, in a grumpy, rugged kind of way.”
“Sounds like a decent guy,” Renee said.
“I thought maybe he and I would get along.He’d just moved in, and I was still new to the neighborhood myself.I hoped we could become friends.”
“What changed?”Bryan asked.
“Moose kept coming over, and Adrian kept apologizing, but the apologies started sounding less like apologies and more like he thought I was overreacting.”She glanced at me a moment, then cringed as she added, “And then came the bag.”
“What bag?”Renee asked.
Mia stirred her iced tea with a straw, looking anywhere but at her cousin.“I may have scooped up what Moose left on my lawn and put it on Adrian’s doorstep.”
Bryan paused with his coffee halfway to his mouth.
Renee’s eyes widened.
I said nothing.
“What?It wasn’t like I threw it through the guy’s window.Thing is, I also left a note.”Mia sank a little lower in her chair.“I was irritated.”
“What did the note say?”Bryan asked.
“It said to keep his dog off my lawn or he’d regret it.And hey, I know it sounds bad.But in every conversation with Adrian after the first one, he always had this way of looking at me like I was the problem.Like I should just accept it because Moose was a dog.”
“Then Moose went missing,” I said.
“Adrian came to my house and accused me of being involved,” Mia said.
Renee reached out, giving Mia’s hand a squeeze.“How awful.”
“It was, but I also understand how it must have looked.”
The waiter returned to take our orders, interrupting Mia’s story.
I chose a grilled chicken salad.Mia ordered fish tacos, and Bryan went with clam chowder and sourdough.Renee ordered a turkey sandwich, then asked enough questions about substitutions that the waiter looked like he regretted being assigned to our table.
Once he was gone, Renee shook her head.“I don't know.It’s hard for me to imagine someone committing murder over a missing dog.”
“People have killed over less,” I said.
“That’s not comforting.”
“It wasn’t meant to be.”
Bryan took a more thoughtful approach.“If the dog meant a great deal to him, and if he blamed Mia …”
“It gives him motive,” I said.
Renee shifted in her chair.“Still, murder feels extreme.”
“He was home the night Wren died,” I said.“Alone.”
