Carolina Moon

in the road. Could’ve been a kid.”
    “It wasn’t your fault.”
    “Hit me a deer a time or two. Don’t know why it didn’t bother me like this. Mostly I’d just get pissed off. Deer can do a hell of a number on a truck. Some kid’s gonna come home from school looking for that dog.”
    “I know the owner. I’ll give her a call. You getting him here fast made a big difference. That’s what you ought to remember.”
    “Yeah, well.” He sighed hugely. “This little gal’s right cute,” he said, stroking Bee’s head. “She came out here looking for trouble, chewed on my bootlaces for a bit, then she conked right out.”
    “I appreciate your looking out for her.” Wade reached down and picked her up. Bee yawned hugely, then licked at the cat scratches on his hand. “Are you going to be all right?”
    “Yeah. Tell the God’s truth, I’m going to go get me a drink. Cade’s probably sent out the marines for me by now, but that’s just gonna have to wait.” He got to his feet. “You let me know how that dog goes on, now, will you?”
    “Sure.” He slapped Piney’s shoulder as they walked out.
    The waiting room was clear. Wade imagined most of his patients got tired of the delay and left. He could only be grateful for the quiet.
    He set Bee down with one of the dog treats Maxine kept in her desk drawer, then looked up Sherry Bellows’s number in his files.
    The answering machine picked up, so he left a message. She’d be out looking for her dog, he supposed. More than likely she’d run into someone who’d seen the accident.
    He left it at that and went back in to Mongo.
    Minutes after Wade talked to Sherry’s machine, Tory listened to the same cheery voice announcing she wasn’t able to come to the phone. “Sherry, this is Tory Bodeen at Southern Comfort. I’d like you to call or come by when you get a chance. If you’re still interested, you’ve got a job.”
    The decision felt good, Tory thought, as she replaced the receiver. Not only had Sherry’s references been glowing, but it might even be fun to have a bright face and willing hands around the shop for a few hours a week.
    Business was slow today, but she wasn’t discouraged. It took time to establish yourself, to become part of people’s routines. And she’d had a handful of browsers that morning.
    She used the downtime to work out an affordable schedule for her new employee. She got out the forms she’d need to fill out for tax records and added the list of store policies she’d typed.
    She toyed with the wording for an ad in the Sunday paper that would include the linens she’d decided to carry.
    When her bells chimed, she looked up quickly, with the same bump in the heart she’d experienced at the sound all day.
    But the sight of Abigail Lawrence made her set down her pen and smile. “What a nice surprise.”
    “Told you I’d find my way here. Tory, this is just lovely. You have beautiful things.”
    “We have some very talented artists.”
    “And you know just how to display their work.” Abigail held out a hand as Tory came around the counter. “I’m going to have a wonderful time spending money here.”
    “Don’t let me stop you. Can I get you anything? A cold drink, a cup of tea?”
    “No, not a thing. Oh, is that batik?”
    Abigail crossed over to admire a framed portrait of a young woman standing on a garden path.
    “She does wonderful work. I have a few of her scarves in stock as well.”
    “I’ll have to take a look. I want to see everything. But I can tell you I want this batik. It’s perfect for my husband to give me for our anniversary.”
    Amused, Tory turned to lift it from the wall. “And does he want it gift wrapped?”
    “Naturally.”
    “How long have you been married?”
    Abigail cocked her head as Tory carried the batik to the counter. In all the time she’d been Tory’s lawyer, she never remembered her asking a personal question. “Twenty-six years.”
    “So you were married at ten?”
    Abigail beamed, examined a box of polished burl wood. “Shopkeeping agrees with you.” She carried the box to the counter herself. “I think this town does, too. You’re at home here.”
    “Yes. This is home. Abigail, did you really come up from Charleston to shop?”
    “That, and to see you. And to talk to you.”
    Tory nodded. “If you found out more about the girl who was murdered, you don’t have to ease me into it.”
    “I didn’t learn any more about her. But I did ask my