For Love of Money
“She glanced at her watch—only a few minutes behind schedule.
She did a quick personal inventory—dark suit, subtle makeup, Kate Spade purse. Good to go.
Ten minutes later, she hustled Laurie out her front door. Bentley, the psycho-beagle, hysterically threw himself against the barrier, distraught at being left alone.
“Are you sure leaving him loose is a good idea?” she asked.
Laurie patted an errant strand of hair into place. Her hair streak was still bright blue, but in deference to the solemn occasion, she’d slicked her hair into a bob instead of the spiky fringe she usually wore. “He’ll settle down. I have to drug him if I put him in a crate.”
“Maybe rescue dogs—”
Her friend gave her the evil eye. “He’s just misunderstood.”
“He misunderstood your sofa,” Holly muttered. “And your shoes.
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