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kept an eye on him through a window in the door.
    Rachel pulled a grim face. “I’m afraid he’s been terrorizing my staff today.”
    Tom watched the dog plow through the snow in search of the ideal spot to lift a leg. “He’s a menace, all right.”
    Laughing, Rachel said, “I’ve got an assistant who’s afraid of him, if you can believe that. Him and dogs in general. I don’t think she’s too comfortable with cats either.”
    “You’re kidding. Why do you keep somebody like that around?”
    “I can’t fire Daphne. Her father’s out of work and the family needs her salary.”
    “You’re too kindhearted, you know that?”
    Tom was looking at her the way he often did, with an intensity that made her acutely self-conscious. Her hair was probably a mess. Running her tongue over her lips, she detected no remaining trace of her only makeup, the lipstick she’d applied that morning. She knew she was reasonably attractive, tall and slim, with good features, but Tom’s admiration made her feel uncomfortable and vaguely guilty. The last man who’d looked at her that way had been Luke Campbell. Her former boss. Her former lover.
    She pushed her hair off her forehead and said, “Daphne does the rest of the job reasonably well, which is more than I can say for some people I’ve tried out.” A sigh escaped, and before she could stop herself she blurted, “Maybe moving here and buying the clinic was a mistake. I didn’t realize half the staff would quit because an outsider was taking over. I’ll lose my clients if I don’t get this place humming again.” Why are you telling him your problems?
    “Come on, be honest,” Tom said. “No matter how much trouble it is, I’ll bet you love walking in here every morning and knowing it all belongs to you.”
    “Yeah, well, there is that.” Her clinic, her business. And as hiding places went, it wasn’t bad. “I just wish staffing was somebody else’s worry.”
    “I’ve been spreading the word that you’re hiring. In fact, I might have found a prospect for you. No training at all, and she’s not what you’d call polished, but she’s good with animals. I wrote down her name and number.” He pulled a slip of paper from his jacket pocket. “I’m pretty sure she’d be interested.”
    “Great. Tell me about her.”
    A slight frown puckered his brow. “She’s the murdered woman’s niece.” He gave Rachel a searching look. “Would that bother you?”
    “Of course not.”
    “And she’s Melungeon, from Rocky Branch District. How do you feel about that?”
    Rachel’s mouth fell open. “Is that a serious question? I realize you don’t know me very well, but—”
    “Okay, okay.” He held up a hand to stop her. “Sorry, but I’ve learned you never can tell about people. Sometimes you get an unpleasant surprise.”
    He was right about that, unfortunately. “Let me give you a pleasant one. Her being Melungeon has nothing to do with anything. I just want somebody who’s willing to work.”
    What had happened to Tom that made him assume people were biased until proven otherwise? Rachel had always believed the opposite, but she was lily-white, so how could she know what discrimination felt like? An awful thought occurred to her: Did Tom believe she’d turned down his invitations because his skin was darker than hers? How could she clear that up without embarrassing him? She couldn’t very well say, Oh, no, I rejected you for other reasons.
    “Tell me about her,” she said.
    He described a shy girl named Holly Turner who loved animals and had some experience with injured and orphaned wildlife. “She’s been working at a diner that’s a drug market, and I’d like to see her get out of there.”
    Rachel tensed, her hands curling into fists in the pockets of her lab coat.
    “The diner’s owned by a woman called Rose Shackleford,” Tom went on, “but Rose’s cousin Troy runs the drug business in this county, and he sells out of the diner. He also