Gran, whose arm was clearly getting tired, growled,“Can you guys please make up your minds? Dogs. Yes or no?”
“Yes, but they have to behave,” I said.
“How about veterinarians? You still want to get rid of those?”
Dooley hesitated.“I’m sure they’re perfectly nice people when they’re not harassing pets, but maybe they can be retrained?”
“Yeah, Vena could easily find herself another job,” I said.
“She could be a people doctor instead,” said Dooley. “People don’t mind to be prodded or stabbed with needles or poked with a thermometer.”
Gran smiled.“Wait till I show this video to Omar,” she said. “He’ll be over the moon.”
“I hate to disappoint you, Gran,” I said, “but I’m pretty sure your Omar won’t be able to understand a word we just said.”
“Oh, yes, he will,” she said. “Master Omar understands every living creature—at least that’s what I’ve heard. And so when he instructed me last night to go out and find new recruits, I immediately thought of you guys. Four new recruits is going to net me a lot of credit with Master Omar. It might even give me access to his much-vaunted inner circle.”
And with these words, she walked out.
Chapter 7
Tex was still ruminating on the odd conversation he’d had with Marge, when the front doorbell chimed its merry little tune. Since Marge had walked out the kitchen door to pay a visit to their daughter Odelia next door, he opened the door and was surprised to find a familiar figure standing on the mat.
Francine Jones was a strikingly handsome woman in her early thirties, with auburn hair tied in a messy bun, remarkable green eyes and a charming tip-tilted nose. And even though Tex knew he should probably extend the animosity he felt for the husband to the wife, he felt himself incapable of including Mrs. Jones in his one-man vendetta.
“Hi, Doctor Poole,” said Francine, looking a little bashful. “Can I come in, please?”
So charming and disarming was her manner that Tex suddenly felt like a real jerk for ever having had the notion to start a nationwide search for ten-ton truck drivers with a penchant for running down small-town doctors.
“Oh, sure,” he said, stepping aside.
She deftly moved past him into the hallway and he glanced left and right to ascertain whether her husband wasn’t hiding in the bushes somewhere, ready with a camera and hoping to snap incriminating pictures of Tex folding another man’s wife into his arms. Francine might have melted the hard shell that was Tex’s heart, but that didn’t mean she might not still be a spy or agent dispatched behind enemy lines to entrap and ensnare.
Tex led Francine into the sitting room, a part of the house they rarely used, and bade her to take a seat on one of the overstuffed chairs while he took up position on the couch. He assumed this surprise visit was related to the garden party she and her husband were hosting, and that in the next few moments she would ask him to man the drinks table, or provide a trifle for the raffle.
Francine looked uneasy, so he directed the trademark Tex Poole smile at her, a smile designed to instill trust and elicit confidences.
“You’re probably wondering what I’m doing here, Doctor Poole,” she began.
“Please, call me Tex,” he said.
She took a deep breath.“Maybe I better start from the beginning.”
“Always a good idea,” he admitted.
“My husband is a doctor,” she said.
“I knew that.”
“I mean, he’s my doctor, obviously.”
He wondered about her conversational tactics. If she was working her way around to the drinks table or the raffle prizes she was taking a long detour.
“Obviously when one is married to a doctor, one considers him her doctor, too. Only I’ve recently started suffering from some worrying belly aches, and when Jaqlyn examined me he said it was simply gas, and nothing to worry about. I…” She gave Tex a slightly embarrassed look. “The thing is, Jaqlyn is a very proud man, Doctor Poo—Tex. He wouldn’t like it if I got a second opinion. And it’s not that I don’t trust him or anything. He’s a fine doctor. But… I know what gas in the tummy feels like, and these pains are sharp pains, and they worry me a great deal. So… could you…”
He held up his hand.“Say no more. You want me to have a look at your stomach, is that it?”
She nodded quickly.“I’m so sorry for dropping in on you like this. In your own home, I mean. It’s just that… Jaqlyn wouldn’t like it if I came to see you. So I couldn’t very well drop by your office.”
“It’s fine,” he said, though he wondered what kind of doctor would prohibit his wife from seeking out a second opinion. Then again, if Marge would suddenly decide to pay a visit to Jaqlyn and ask for a second opinion on some suspicious spot she’d discovered on her nose which Tex had assuredher was absolutely benign he probably wouldn’t like it either.