Read Out of Control for Free Online Page B

away the beers. She turned to see why cold white fridge light was still flooding the kitchen, and found him frowning over his shoulder at her.
    â€œThere’s no food in here,” he said. “Nothing but canned dog food.”
    She lifted an eyebrow. “Whoops! You’ve found me out, McCloud. I love dog food. It’s fab on Triscuits. Try it. Beer from the bottle OK?”
    â€œFine. Can I give your dog some pork?”
    â€œJust don’t give him anything spicy,” she said.
    McCloud crouched down and held out a succulent chunk of pork. Mikey accepted it delicately, his small body quivering with delight.
    â€œHuh,” she said. “So you’re hungry after all.” She took a shrimp out of the pan, drained the butter and knelt down to offer it to Mikey.
    He turned his head away, the very image of cool disdain.
    â€œOh, come off it,” she snapped. “You big poser. You love shrimp.”
    Mikey held firm. Margot held the shrimp out to McCloud. “Here,” she muttered. “You give it to him. He’s not speaking to me.”
    McCloud proffered the shrimp. Mikey gulped it down and sneaked a sidelong peek at Margot to see how she was taking it.
    Being scorned by her dog in front of Davy McCloud took all the stuffing right out of her. She flopped into a chair.
    â€œHe hates me now,” she said miserably. “Ever since the dead dog, when I started leaving him at the pet hotel. He thinks I’m punishing him. He won’t eat, just to make me feel bad. He’s already too skinny.”
    McCloud offered another chunk of pork to Mikey. “He doesn’t hate you,” he said gently. “He’s just letting you know how he feels. You know he loves you. You’re afraid this stalker’s going to hurt him?”
    She shrugged angrily. “If this weirdness escalates, that’s the next logical step any normal sicko maniac would take, right?”
    He looked dubious. “Is there such a thing as a normal sicko maniac? And could anything like this be called logical?”
    She waved that away. “Don’t be cute,” she said wearily. “I’ve watched way too many horror flicks in my time, and I figure the maniac has probably watched some of the same ones. The only thing that would suck worse than having my own dog hate my guts would be to come home and find Mikey…like that.”
    He popped open a beer. “You’re doing the right thing by your dog,” he said. “Once you straighten things out, he’ll forgive you. For now, you need dinner.” He pressed the bottle into her hand. “So let’s eat.”
    The food was spectacular. They ate steadily, not bothering with conversation, stuffing empty containers back into the bag until what had originally looked like a ridiculous amount of food was reduced to smears of sauce that they scraped out of the containers with the extra tortillas. Mikey made out like a bandit with the pork and shrimp. Nothing beat pigging out on fat, protein and flavor after a long dry spell.
    Margot took a long swallow of beer to wash down the lovely burn of hot pepper in her throat, and sighed. “Delicious. I’m stuffed.”
    â€œGood. Now you can tell me about the break-in. And the dog.”
    She tried to think of a way to put him off gently, being as how he’d just been nice enough to feed her an awesome dinner. “Look, if you’re trying to drum up business, I told you, I can’t afford to—”
    â€œHow about you let me worry about that?”
    She studied his impassive face, wary of a trap. “There’s no such thing as something for nothing,” she said slowly. “You don’t know me at all, McCloud. Why do you even care?”
    His broad shoulders lifted and dropped. “I can’t help it. You made me curious. It’s my only vice.”
    She giggled nervously. “No sex, drugs or rock ’n roll,