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good taste in men. Maybe I’ll hold off on the dating for
    a while.”
    Like maybe forever.
    She looked down at the dogs who were staring at her now with adoration. Even Maxwell’s usually
    glazed eyes were shining with puppy love, and Heisenburg had let his head fall back so he could worship
    her upside down. “I should just stick with you guys. You’re the best.”
    Okay. No men for a while, no matter how lonely she felt. But she could still change. She could still be
    independent and control her life. She could do it.
    “I’ll tell you something else,” she told the dogs. “I’m really being independent. I’m even taking back my
    maiden name. In fact, I already did. I just signed a note with it. And not only that, later, when I’m done,
    we’ve gotreal fun. Do you know what we’re going to do?”
    Einstein and Maxwell cocked an ear at the lilt in her voice. Heisenburg lay doggedly on his back.
    “All right, all right,” Lucy said to him, giving in to canine blackmail. “Dead dog?” Heisenburg jumped up,
    delirious at finally being noticed.
    “You are spoiled rotten,” Lucy told him. “Now as I was saying, do you know what we’re going to do?”
    The dogs waited.
    “We’re going to get rid of Bradley!” Lucy said, flinging her arms wide.
    The dogs went wild with joy.
    “My sentiments, exactly,” she told them and went upstairs to start transforming herself.
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    An hour and a half later, Zack pulled up in front of the address Lucy Savage had left on the patrol-car
    windshield.
    It was in an older neighborhood, close to the university and in the throes of gentrification. Some of the
    big old Victorians were completely restored, some hadn’t been touched, and some were in transition.
    The Savage house was one that someone had begun to make an effort with.
    Zack sat in his car and checked the place out. The three-story cream brick house, like all the others
    around it, was on a hill bisected by the cracked concrete driveways that consumed the narrow side yards
    separating the houses. A small blue Civic, its windows rolled up tightly in the February cold, sat in the
    driveway to the left. The drive to the right was empty.
    There was no one in sight.
    Great. This is why he needed a partner with him so he could say, “It’s quiet...too quiet.” So where was
    Anthony? Chasing brunettes. You couldn’t trust anybody these days.
    He got out of the car and climbed the concrete steps to the house.
    He twisted the knob on the antique doorbell, and its hellish scream echoed through the big rooms of the
    house, followed by the barking of what seemed like a thousand dogs.
    His grandmother had once had a doorbell like this one, and he remembered how wonderfully godawful it
    had sounded, the kind of ring that went right up your spine and out the top of your head. Then one day,
    his grandmother had had enough and put chimes in instead, and he hadn’t felt the same way about his
    grandmother’s house since.
    Or his grandmother, for that matter.
    And now Lucy Savage had the same godawful doorbell. It figured. Savage woman, savage doorbell.
    He twisted it again. A thousand dogs barked again.
    The door opened.
    She was a brunette, sort of. Actually, she had the blackest hair he’d ever seen in his life on anyone. Or
    anything. It was the kind of dead, dull black that seemed to absorb light and air, and her face was
    surrounded and overwhelmed by it. For a moment, he wasn’t even sure it was the same woman, and
    then he recognized the pointed chin and the big eyes, now widening in startled recognition. She started to
    slam the massive wood door, but he put his foot in it to block her. forgetting that he was wearing canvas
    shoes, not leather. She slammed the heavy door into his foot and yelled, “Go away. I have vicious dogs.
    I’m calling the police!”
    “Iam the police!” Zack clenched his teeth against the pain. He shoved his badge