“Angie, are you all right? Did I scare you?” I placed a hand over my heart. “Yes, you scared me. You can’t come up to people like that!” “I’m sorry,” he said, sounding as if he meant it. “I would never set out to frighten you, especially after the day you’ve had.” In the gas-lit street outside of my quilt shop, I could see Mitchell clearly. His face was a mask of concern. He held a leash in his hand. His precocious Boston terrier, Tux, was at the end of that leash. Oliver and Tux were the best of friends and the two small dogs touched their pushed-in noses and sniffed each other. “What are you doing here?” I asked. “How did you know I’d be here?” “I’m a good investigator.” He grinned. “I swung by your house and when you weren’t there, Tux and I decided to stop by here and see if we could catch you.” “You could have just called,”
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