Now, this was the way she’d envisioned her time at Fowl Lake. Little will-o’-the-wisps of steam rose from the water around her, and the soothing, rhythmic plop of the water dripping from the faucet lulled her into a pleasant state of inertia. Her natural state, she reminded herself.The uncomfortable sensation that she ought to be doing something—heating a pizza, picking burrs out of Blondie’s coat, wishing Bill ill, would pass. After all, she’d been released from canine servitude only yesterday. The dogs, the house, everything on the other side of the woods, were no longer her concern. The only one she had to worry about now was Mimi. Who cared about a bunch of opportunistic four-footed sycophants? Good riddance to them. They had Drill Sergeant Tierney monitoring their every move. Finally, she was free. Free, free, free!And cold.The Big House, never intended to be a year-round residence, wasn’t well insulated. The will-o’-the-wisps disappeared in a matter of minutes, and those parts of Mimi’s anatomy exposed above the tepid water soon sprouted goose bumps.
