Read To Sketch a Thief for Free Online

now?”
    Leah looked at Rory, who just shrugged. They couldn’t very well detain her until she broke down and agreed to take Hobo, even if the idea was somewhat appealing.
    “Yeah, you can go,” Leah told her.
    “Wouldn’t your dog like a playmate?” Rory asked her as they watched Marti toddle off in her flip-flops.
    “Not a chance, my friend. You had a better shot with Marti.”
    The CSI van arrived as Marti was pulling out. Other cars crawled by, the drivers trying to figure out what was going on in their neighborhood. A crowd of people had gathered on the lawn across the street, courtesy of the local gossip mill. Dinner and homework were forgotten. Kids threw Frisbees they could barely see in the waning light or ran after the last lightning bugs of the season. TV crews and reporters were suddenly swarming everywhere, like cicadas that had sprung straight from the ground. The police called in reinforcements. Brenda’s death had become an event.
    Cirello and his partner emerged from the house and headed back to their car.
    “I’d better get in there,” Leah said. “Why don’t you take the dog, Rory? He’d be good company for you.”
    Good idea, Rory wanted to say, except I live with a ghost who’s got dog issues.
    Cirello paused beside her. “Did you call the pound to come for the mutt?” He said it in much the same way he might have said, “Did you take out the trash?”
    “Don’t worry,” Rory said tightly, “I’m on it.”
    Danny heard the disgust in her voice and lagged back long enough to commiserate. “I sure wish I could take him. He looks like a great dog. But my wife’s allergic.”
    Everyone seemed to have an excuse, but since Rory couldn’t bring herself to abandon poor Hobo at the pound on the night that he was orphaned, she found herself driving home with him once again in the backseat of her car, along with a leash and a twenty-pound bag of kibble.

Chapter 4
    R ory pulled into her driveway, turned off the engine and sat there trying to figure out the best way to introduce Zeke to their new boarder. Fifteen minutes passed without a single epiphany. Hobo whimpered and snuffled the back of her neck, confused as to why they were still sitting in a car that wasn’t moving. Rory reached up and scratched his head to comfort him, wishing someone would do the same for her. She was tired and in no mood to do battle with an irascible ghost.
    To make matters worse, the house looked far from inviting. She hadn’t left any lights on, since she’d expected to be back in twenty minutes. So much for expectations. The closest street lamp cast only a dim puddle of light that barely reached her property line. In front of her, the house loomed dark and somehow larger than it should have been, as if it had lost its familiar contours and was merging with the night.
    “Stop it! Just stop it!” she scolded herself out loud, causing Hobo to immediately stop nuzzling her neck.
    “Oh, not you, you silly boy,” she said, her voice dropping into the soft, cooing tone she generally reserved for babies. “Not you.”
    What was happening to her? She’d never been one of the delicate, faint-of-heart types. This was her house and it was dark simply because it was nighttime. There was nothing sinister or otherworldly about it. Well, except for Zeke of course. And she had no intentions of letting him wield this much power over her. If she wanted to have a dog, she was damn well going to have a dog!
    She stepped out of the car as if she were setting foot on Omaha Beach. There would be no withdrawing in disgrace. She opened the rear door and Hobo jumped out. She grabbed hold of his leash as he started up the walkway ahead of her. No ambivalence there.
    When they reached the front door, Hobo stopped suddenly and Rory rammed full tilt into him. As she was trying to keep herself from flying headfirst into the door, she wondered what had caused the dog’s sudden loss of initiative. Had he smelled, heard or intuited in