Something Different/Pepper's Way Read Free Page A

larger part of her accusation, “I’d get another car.”
    “Well, you’re not me. I’ve had Daisy since I was seventeen; she’s a classic. She’s also my good-luck charm.”
    “Judging by the number of dents in her that I can’t claim credit for,” Chase said dryly, “she doesn’t seem to have been very lucky.” He was completely unconscious of following Gypsy’s lead in using the feminine pronoun to describe Daisy.
    Uncomfortably aware of her accident-prone nature, she didn’t dispute his point. And she was enormously relieved to see her house as they finally completed the long climb and theroad leveled off. She pointed and Chase nodded, slowing the Mercedes for the turn into her driveway.
    Her home for the next four months was a sprawling house, modern in design but not starkly so. Lots of glass, lots of cedar. It blended in nicely with the tall trees, and from the back it boasted a magnificent view of the Pacific. But the house next door was by far the more beautiful of the two. It
was
starkly modern, geometric in design, with an abundance of sharp angles and impossible curves. Cunningly wrought in glass, cedar, and stone, it was a jewel utterly perfect in its setting. And the landscaping around the house was among the most beautiful Gypsy had ever seen.
    She usually didn’t care too much for modern houses, but she loved that one. Glancing toward it as the Mercedes pulled into her driveway, she wondered for the hundredth time who lived there. She’d only seen a gardener who came every day to care for the trees and shrubs.
    The thought slipped from her mind as Chase stopped his car just outside the garage. Reaching for the door handle, she said, “You’d better come in; it may take a while for me to find the insurance card.”
    He nodded and turned off the engine, his eyes fixed curiously on the somewhat battered trailer pulled over onto the grass beside the driveway. “What—” he began.
    Gypsy slid from the car before explaining. “That,” she told him cheerfully, “contains all my worldly possessions when I move. Aside from Corsair, that is; he rides in Daisy with me.” She reflected for a moment as she watched Chase move around to her. “Although I don’t suppose one could call a cat a possession.”
    “Not any cat I’ve ever heard of,” Chase agreed, eyeing Corsair with disfavor. “They seem to be complete unto themselves.” He accompanied Gypsy and friend up the walkway.
    She fished her keys from a pocket and unlocked the heavy front door. Opening it and stepping inside, she murmured, “I suppose I should warn you.”
    “Warn me? About wha—” Beginning to follow her inside, Chase suddenly found himself pinned solidly against the door-jamb by two huge paws. Inches from his nose loomed a black and white face in which a grin of sorts displayed an impressive set of dental equipment. It was a Great Dane, and it looked as though it would have considered half a steer to be a tidy mouthful.
    A calm Gypsy holding an equally calm Corsair studied Chase’s still face for a long moment. “Meet Bucephalus,” she invited politely. “He was named after Alexander the Great’s horse.”
    “Obviously,” Chase murmured carefully. “Two questions. Is it yours?”
    “No; he belongs to the Robbins couple—the ones who live here. Second question?”
    “Does he bite?”
    “No.” She considered briefly. “Except for people who rear-end cars. He makes an exception for them.”
    “Funny lady. Would you mind getting him down?”
    “Down, Bucephalus.”
    The big dog immediately dropped to all fours, looking no less huge but considerably more friendly. His long tail waved happily and he tilted his chin up slightly in order to wash Corsair’s face with a tongue the size of a hand towel. The cat suffered this indignity with flattened ears and silence.
    Chase carefully shut the door, keeping a wary eye on the dog. “Any more surprises?” he asked ruefully.
    “I shouldn’t think so. This