“Thanks,” she said.
“No problem.”
She closed and locked the door, reset the alarm, then carried the pizza into the living room. Jackson sat on the floor in front of the coffee table. Shelby settled beside him, all her focus on the pizza. “I don’t like that guy,” Jackson said.
“Preston Smith?”
“Uh-huh.”
Smith certainly hadn’t impressed her. “Why don’t you like him?” She opened the pizza, slid a slice onto a plate and passed it to Jackson.
“He’s just—sneaky. Like, I caught him coming out of Dad’s home office once when Dad wasn’t home. He said he left some papers for Dad to look at but I think it was just an excuse to snoop.” He took a bite of pizza. “Mike doesn’t like him, either.”
“Don’t talk with your mouth full, please.” Lily chose her own slice of pizza. “Why did your dad hire him, I wonder?”
Jackson swallowed and took a drink of Dr Pepper. “He’s supposed to be some genius or something. Anyway, I’m glad you didn’t let him in.”
“You should never let anyone in the house you don’t know,” she said. “Especially if your dad or Mike isn’t here.”
“Yeah. I know.” He offered a piece of pizza crust to Shelby, who gobbled it up. “You could have threatened to sic Shelby on him.”
Lily smiled at the dog, who was begging for more pizza. Shelby looked fierce, but she was really a cream puff. “Shelby isn’t that kind of dog. She’s bred to help people, not fight them.”
“I guess so.” Jackson reached for a second slice of pizza. “Are you working again tomorrow?” he asked.
“I am. Saturday is our busiest day.”
“I wish I was going to be there,” Jackson said. “But Dad said he won’t get home until late, so I have to wait until next week.”
“The snow may be even better next week,” Lily said.
“Do you like your new job?” he asked.
“I do.”
“That guy you were with today—he’s your boss?”
“Yes. Scott is in charge of the avalanche dog program.”
“He seemed nice.”
Scott was…complicated. Like most people, she expected. Not the most charming man she had ever met. But everyone described him as “firm but fair.” His insistence that Shelby be recertified for her Level B annoyed her, but he was clearly the kind of her person to cross all his t’s and dot all his i’s. And she had faith in Shelby. The dog was still young, but so smart and eager to please.
After pizza, they watched a movie. Jackson fell asleep before the end, and Lily woke him to put him to bed. Then she and Shelby relaxed on either end of the sofa, a rom-com she had selected from the Endicotts’ endless streaming choices playing low on the television.
She must have dozed off. Shelby’s low growl woke her, and she sat up as headlights played across the home’s front windows. She waited, tensed, until she heard a key in the lock of the back door. It opened, then the beeping of the alarm keypadtold her Denny was shutting off the alarm. She moved to the front hallway, smiling, intending to offer a cheerful greeting.
But the smile faded as she stared at Denton Endicott. The normally impeccably put-together businessman slumped against the wall, his navy-blue suit rumpled, one sleeve hanging loose, his thick graying hair in disarray. He glanced at her, and she gasped—one eye was swollen shut, the skin around it purple, his bottom lip puffy and bloody. “What happened?” she asked, rushing forward, hands outstretched.
But she stopped short of touching him. With effort, he straightened and waved her away. He stood over six feet, and though he had developed a paunch over the years, he still conveyed power. “It’s nothing,” he said.
He started to move past her, but she blocked his path. “You’re hurt,” she said. “Do you want me to call an ambulance?”
“No!” His voice was sharp, angry.
She drew back, and his expression softened. “Really, I fell,” he said. “I probably had too much to drink.” He pulled a wallet from his pocket, opened it and thrust a sheaf of bills at her.
She stared at the wad of twenties—at least two hundred dollars. “This is too much,” she protested.
