The Dollhouse - Fiona Davis Page 0,32

hallway, a familiar silhouette disappeared into the stairwell. Darby called out Esme’s name, but there was no reply and no sound of footsteps, either. She must have been mistaken.

Dashing down the two flights back to her floor, Darby hummed the Lindy tune out loud, no longer afraid of walking the gauntlet of the hallway back to her room.

The Ford girls had nothing on her.

CHAPTER NINE

New York City, 2016

Miss McLaughlin’s dog had quite the bitchy personality. He liked to pee only in certain locations in Central Park, which he eagerly led Rose to, straining against his leash as if he were pulling an eighteen-wheeler behind him. And if another dog approached too closely, particularly one that looked like him, scruffy and brown, he’d bare his teeth and lunge.

The first time he did it, Rose jumped in shock and apologized furiously to the other dog owner, who glared back at her.

“It’s not my dog,” she’d said. Bird had recovered quickly, throwing her a look of maniacal glee before trotting off with his tail held high.

The key to Miss McLaughlin’s apartment lay on Stella’s kitchen counter, but Rose hadn’t touched it yet, only gathered up the bag of the dog’s food and headed upstairs with Bird. The ethics of the situation were murky, to say the least. As a reporter, she would be entering a potential source’s apartment without prior approval.

But the woman wasn’t a source yet. And Rose was beginning to doubt she’d ever agree to be. Just a batty old lady with a penchant for drama. All Rose was doing was taking care of a neighbor’s pet during a time of crisis. If she found herself having to enter Miss McLaughlin’s apartment in order to fulfill her duty to Stella, that wouldn’t violate any professional boundaries, would it?

Early the next morning, Bird woke her up with several insistent yelps. Bleary-eyed, she stumbled around the block with him, wishing she’d been able to have a cup of coffee first. Upon their return home, as they were entering the building, one of the doormen stopped Rose.

“Looks like Mr. Van Doren is back from his trip.”

Griff had returned. “He’s home?”

“Just came in a few minutes ago. I told him you’d be right back.”

As she unlocked the door, she called out his name.

“I’m here, in the living room.”

Relief surged through her. He was back. She was pissed he’d put her through the anguish of the past four days, but it was hard to simply turn off the attraction. She’d missed him.

He stood by the window and gave her a smile.

“Griff, how are you?” She put down her keys and stood there, as awkward as a teenager. The dog bounded into the room, excited to have another person to boss around.

“Who’s this?” Griff’s brows knitted in concern.

“A neighbor’s dog, who was being cared for by another neighbor while she’s away. But she had to go to the hospital, the second neighbor, that is. So I’m taking care of him until she’s released.” Enough, already. Stop babbling and let him take the lead.

Griff kneeled down and held out his hand. Bird trotted over and took a sniff, then allowed him to scratch his neck. If the dog could have purred, he would have. Of course Bird loved Griff. Griff charmed everyone.

She sat on the arm of the couch and crossed her arms. “What’s going on?”

“I’m fine, we’re fine.” He stood up and put his hands into his pockets.

“Miranda’s doing better?” she ventured.

“We found a place for her, a school that we hope will help. And a therapist.”

“That’s good news.” She straightened her shoulders, hoping to look strong and determined.

His face crumpled. “I miss you.”

Her heart twisted in pain, but a small part of her lit up with triumph. He was miserable. She wished she could read his mind and know what was lurking there, instead of feeling it out, syllable by syllable.

She walked over to him and held him close. He was the first man she’d loved in a grown-up, serious way. He buried his face in her neck and sobbed. After a minute, he stepped back and wiped his tears with the meaty pad of his palm, like a little boy.

He sat on the window ledge and pulled her down beside him and rubbed her arm. “I’m sorry—this is so hard.”

“I know.” Or did she? “What is?”

“There’ve been some changes since the last time we talked. I hadn’t realized Connie had already made plans.”

An icy shiver shot down her spine at the sound of the woman’s