The Day Before Read Free Page B

And let the dog out.
    At least this won’t be a complete waste, then. Any chance to spend some time with my “ roommate. ”
    She headed for her car, unplugged it from the charger, and turned the key. The water engine bubbled to life.
    Once upon a time, in some fairy utopia that existed before she was born, there was no such thing as a bedroom tax. Now, having more than one room per person resulted in a luxury tax, and, legally, a single person could only rent a single-­bedroom apartment. She got around that by listing her landlady’s mastiff as her animal companion. At 180 pounds, Hoss more than qualified for his own room. It meant she got to live in a beautiful old house where there was no risk of having a meth lab next door, but it also meant getting home in time to let the dog out because her landlady wouldn’t walk over after dark.
    Driving down the country road, she sighed.
    When she’d decided to join the bureau for a paycheck that wasn’t considered a living wage, it had been in a fit of pique and the belief that she’d be promoted quickly. The bureau was her escape from her life as an ambassador’s daughter and the threats of marriage to one of her mother’s cronies. A meritocracy where she would be rewarded for her brains and talent while she helped build a new nation.
    So far, the meritocracy she’d signed up for was her mother’s world of glittering favoritism done on a budget.
    A faun-­colored dog lay in the crabgrass wagging its nub of a tail as Sam parked on the lawn outside a stately white house with a wraparound porch shaded by oak trees. A withered old woman with skin the color of roast chestnuts and a Smith & Wesson rifle stood in the doorway.
    â€œHello, Miss Azalea. Hello, Hoss!” Sam waved as she stepped out of the car. Hoss leapt to his feet. A foot-­long trail of saliva dragged behind the dog like the tail of a comet as he bounded toward her.
    â€œHoss!” the woman shouted. The dog sat, skidding on the remnants of a gravel driveway until he bumped into Sam’s knee and looked up with unabashed adoration. His giant head nudged her hip, looking for a treat. Black eyes lost in a black mask of fur watched her expectantly.
    Sam patted him affectionately. “You’re hungry, aren’t you?”
    â€œHe’s always hungry.” Miss Azalea eyed her, and Sam knew the woman was weighing her against the Southern standard for beauty as she walked up to the house. “Jus’ looking at you makes me want to eat fried chicken. Child, you need to put some meat on those bones. What are you doing home this time o’ day?”
    â€œChanging my shirt and going to see Detective Altin about something.” Hoss’s nails clicked on the wooden floor as he followed her inside. “I have some lemonade in the fridge if you’d like some.”
    Miss Azalea waved her hand. “I jus’ come up to water the plants in the nursery, hon. Let Hoss run for a few minutes. Can’t imagine how he stands it in this heat. Jus’ looking outside gots me sweatin’ like a sinner at a prayer meetin’. I’m fixin’ to melt.” The door snapped shut behind her.
    Sam left her landlady in the empty living room, hurrying to change into dry clothes. When she got back downstairs, Miss Azalea and Hoss were both in the kitchen at the big wooden table that didn’t fit in Miss Azalea’s little house by the creek. “I made us sandwiches. You want me to bring up some supper for you?”
    Baloney sandwiches on white bread. Nothing special, but a chance for Miss Azalea to spend some time with her. Sam didn’t really have the time, and besides, Sam ate hers in three bites anyway. But she liked her landlady and appreciated the food. “I can’t do dinner with you tonight, I’m sorry. I’m meeting Brileigh at the gym, and she’ll holler if I’m not there to spot her.”
    Miss Azalea