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Thomas Baskerville’s thunderous tones. “Don’t pander to her, Bob! She’s taking advantage of you—can’t you see that?”
    Another man’s voice said, “I know you feel strongly about this, Thomas, but if we’re going to work with Charlotte, we need to stay professional.”
    Charlotte’s voice wasn’t raised much, but she sounded harried. “Bob is just a good deal more polite than you, Thomas.”
    Michael looked at Angus as Thomas went into another tirade, which included the words selfish old bitch . “Should we go down?” he said quietly.
    “I think that’s a fine idea,” Angus said, looking grim. “Mrs. Baskerville would probably like to be interviewed about now.” He glanced behind. “Cheri, we’ll be back in a bit.”
    Michael and Suki followed Angus as he strode into the hall and went downstairs, making no effort to be quiet.
    Thomas and Charlotte stood at the base of the stairs with a much shorter, tubby man, who carried a plastic bucket by the handle. He looked to be in his forties, and wore cotton slacks and an oxford shirt. Wire-framed glasses and a beard gave him the look of a professor.
    By the time the Tripping crew reached the bottom of the stairs, Thomas Baskerville had fallen silent. His face, already red with anger, flushed darker when he saw the camera in Suki’s hand.
    In contrast to Thomas’s mottled skin, Charlotte’s complexion was very pale. She held Lila in her arms, a hand wrapped around the dog’s muzzle. Lila trembled inside her yellow polka-dotted dress, but her eyes glared at Thomas Baskerville.
    The stranger nodded in a friendly manner and raised the bucket he held. “I’ll just drop off this batch of the new formula.” It appeared to be full of dog kibble.
    “Thank you, Bob.” Charlotte’s voice shook only slightly.
    Angus touched her back in a light, comforting gesture. “I believe it’s time for your interview, isn’t it?”
    She looked up at him gratefully. “That’s right. I’m sorry if I kept you waiting.”
    “Oh, are these the magazine people?” Bob asked. He put down the bucket and offered his hand. “Bob Hume. I’m developing a line of dog food using the açaí berry. Are you familiar with the açaí berry?”
    “I have a hat made of açaí leaves,” Suki said. “Don’t the berries have antioxidants or something?”
    Bob Hume beamed at her. “My goodness, you’re beautiful. That’s right, the açaí berry contains high levels of antioxidants, which are known to fight cancer. That’s what killed Petey, you know.” He turned to Thomas. “I thought we might call the food Petey’s Pride. Branding is all about telling a story.”
    Thomas shook his head angrily. “Get your damn bucket and let’s go. You’re wasting your time talking to these people.”
    “It’s never a waste of time talking to people, especially members of the press,” Bob said, turning back to them. “Do any of you have dogs?”
    They shook their heads.
    “Well, you might someday, and then a high-quality food is a good investment. What you spend on good food, you save on vet bills, and then some.”
    Charlotte moved toward the stairs. “If you’ll excuse us, Bob, we need to get going.” She put Lila on the floor. The little dog had calmed during Bob’s lecture.
    “It was good to see you, Charlotte,” Bob said.
    Angus moved aside to let the others go upstairs first, and wound up standing between Thomas and Bob.
    At their feet, Lila sniffed the bucket of kibble and turned away. As she passed in front of Thomas, he drew back his foot as if to kick her.
    Angus leaned sideways and bumped Thomas’s shoulder, making him reach for the banister to steady himself. “Sorry, did I nudge you? I can be very clumsy sometimes. It’s a real hazard.” He smiled pleasantly and followed the dog upstairs.
    In the upstairs parlor, Suki rummaged through one of her camera bags while Charlotte moved around the room, plumping pillows with quick nervous gestures.
    Angus sat next to