I glanced at him, suddenly not liking him so much anymore. I wasn't a physical person by nature, but tearing Dorothy's hair out by its dyed roots sounded like the perfect way to kick off my afternoon.

"Fine," Dorothy said, stepping back.

Missy slurped my chin, and I took a step back, too.

"Now, about that host job," Dorothy said, ever tenacious.

"Mrs. Dewitt, really-" Scott began.

Dorothy cut him off. "You said yourself that Raina was never confirmed as the host. So why not add another name to those under consideration?"

Scott once again looked like a man who wanted to flee. "Yes, there are others under consideration," he said. "Qualified candidates."

"Noelle Quinlan is not an option," Dorothy said scathingly. "With her horse face? She's much better suited to radio."

I thought "horse face" was a little harsh. Noelle simply had a long face. With a prominent mouth. And big teeth.

"And Kent?" Dorothy went on. "He can't string a pair of words together without adding an um or uh betwixt the two."

Scott said, "No decisions have been made yet-and won't be until the village council votes on the filming permit."

Dorothy blinked innocently. "You do know I have an in on the council. . . ."

"Are you bribing him with me standing here?" I asked, shocked by her audacity. Not to mention that the election was the day before the permit vote. There was a good chance Sylar would not be on the council that day.

She glanced at me. "Oh, are you still here, Darcy? I hadn't noticed."

I wrinkled my nose. "Actually I'm leaving now." Before I did rip her hair out. Assault charges wouldn't look good on my resume. Although I wanted to speak to Scott about his meeting with Raina this morning, I'd do so later. Without an audience.

"Ta!" Dorothy finger-waved good-bye.

Missy growled again.

Dorothy growled back, cackling as Missy yipped.

Suddenly a line from The Wizard of Oz's Wicked Witch played through my head. "I'll get you, my pretty, and your little dog, too."

I dared Dorothy to try.

"Actually, Darcy," Scott said, "if you don't mind, I'll walk you home. There's something I'd like to speak to you about."

I hadn't planned to go home-I still wanted to find Nick-but this wasn't an opportunity I could turn down. "Okay," I said.

"I'm sure I'll see you around, Mrs. Dewitt," he said to a stony-looking Dorothy.

"Yes," she said tightly. "Yes, you will."

Dorothy wasn't one to mess with. She was bad to the bone and didn't blink at breaking rules to get what she wanted. If she had her sights set on that hosting job, Scott definitely hadn't seen the last of her.

As Scott waited for me, she gave me the death stare. I'd seen it before, and it didn't frighten me.

Much.

Unable to resist the uncontrollable temptation to one-up her, I said, "Ta!" and gave her a finger wave.

I solely blamed my bad behavior on the day I'd had.

As her face slowly infused with color, I knew she would soon seek retribution.

But right now?

I didn't mind stooping to take the low road one little bit.

Bring it on, indeed.

Chapter Nine.

I didn't dare set Missy down as Scott and I walked toward As You Wish. I didn't trust her not to run off again.

Sliding a glance at Scott, I said, "Do you have pets?"

It wasn't what I wanted to say. I wanted to ask about his morning meeting with Raina, but there were some conversations that needed to be sidled up to, not barged in on with guns blazing.

He said, "I have a neurotic Chi-Pom-something named Boca."

"Unusual name. I like it."

"It fit. I found him in an abandoned building in Boca Raton while I was there on a job. And he has a big mouth."

I smiled. Boca was the Spanish word for mouth.

"I couldn't leave him"-Scott shrugged-"so he came home with me."

My estimation of him just went up a notch.

"Is Boca here with you?" I asked. Maybe that was Missy's fascination with this man. Perhaps she smelled an unfamiliar dog scent and wanted to further investigate the source. I had to admit, she was a nosy little thing.

She took after her owner that way.

"He does travel with me a lot, but not this time. He's home."

"Where is home? Los Angeles?" I asked, stepping off the curb. Across the street, I saw that Ve had been busy in the time I'd been gone. Her A VOTE FOR VE IS A VOTE FOR YE sign now hung from the front porch railing. This was in addition to the lawn signs dotting the front yard and sidewalk.

The crowd around the Tavistock house continued to thin now that the medical examiner's van had gone. News crews lingered, but soon there would be something else that would grab their attention and they would move on as well. Another murder. A robbery. Something. Raina would soon be forgotten by all except those who knew her well.

I sighed. It was a depressing thought-but one I knew to be true. It's what had happened each time the village had been marred by a homicide.

Life went on.

A fact I believed to be both a blessing and a curse.

"Actually, no," Scott said. "I'm assigned to the East Coast, anywhere from Maine to Miami. I live here in Boston, in the North End."

I came to a stop and looked at him. "You live just thirty minutes away, yet you're staying here in the village?" He'd been a guest of the Pixie Cottage for at least a week now.

"A hazard of the job, unfortunately," he said. "I'm to immerse myself in the town where I'm working. It adds realism to the show if I actually know the town inside and out. It's only this way until the show starts filming, however. Then I'm free to come and go with the film crew. And I do go home when I have time."

I didn't see a wedding ring, so I pried some more as we crossed the street. "That must be hard on your everyday life."

He knew what I was getting at. "It's caused more breakups than I care to admit. Fortunately, the last one was amicable. We actually share custody of Boca-that's who he's with now. My ex." He glanced at me, a small smile on his face. "That sounds strange, right? Having shared custody of a dog?"

Laughing, I said, "Not at all." I knew all about strange custody agreements for pets. After all, Tilda spent a lot of time with Lew Renault, an Emoticrafter who'd accidentally stolen her once (long story).

"I travel so much that it's nice to have someone look after Boca. And Derek's good about sending me pictures when I'm away." He pulled out his phone.

"Derek?" I asked, for clarification.

"My ex," he said matter-of-factly as he swiped his screen to show me a snapshot of a handsome man holding a tiny brown fluff ball.

"Adorable," I said, smiling.

"Boca or Derek?"

"Both." I laughed.

He smiled fondly at the photo. "Yes, well, they're both crazy. Derek is actually more neurotic than the dog. It's his line of work."

"Is he in the arts?" Artists were notoriously temperamental.

"No. Law enforcement," he deadpanned. "You're dating a cop, right? You know what it's like."

There were times in my relationship with Nick that it had been really hard, but we seemed to have worked out the kinks. My snoop job for the Elder certainly had helped smooth some rough edges, but Scott Whiting didn't need to know all those details.

"'Most everyone's mad here,'" I said with a smile as I winked at Archie, who looked resplendent inside his cage. I pushed open the side gate and set Missy down. She immediately went to Scott's feet to sniff around.

Archie squawked. "Alice in Wonderland." He laughed just like the Cheshire cat in the Disney movie. "Mad, mad, we're all mad."

Looking at Scott, I shrugged. "I rest my case."

Scott stared at Archie. "Did that parrot . . ."

I closed the gate behind us. "He's a bird of many talents." I headed up the side porch steps. "Do you want something to drink? Coffee? Tea? Lemonade? Ve made a fresh pitcher this morning."

"Lemonade would be great," he said, still watching Archie with a lifted eyebrow. "Thanks."

I left the back door open, letting in some fresh air, and Scott finally followed me inside. In the kitchen, I moved aside a stack of election signs and a bag of buttons that hadn't been there earlier. They were printed with Ve's new slogan. "Please excuse the mess," I said. "It's been nutty around here with this election."

He picked up a button. "Ye?"

I set out two glasses. "It's catchy."

Humor laced his voice as he said, "The election is the real show around here. I've never seen more heated arguments over a new development. Ve and Sylar are true characters."

"Don't forget Dorothy."

"She wouldn't let me if I tried. You two seem to have a history."

I eyed him as I pulled the lemonade from the fridge. I could see why he was good at his job. He slipped prying questions into a conversation with ease. "History that is best left in the past."

"Ah, it's a secret."

Tipping my head, I said, "It's really no secret. We don't like each other."

He smiled.

Filling the glasses, and before he could continue that line of questioning, I added quickly, "I take it you're in favor of the development since it would mean more episodes for the TV show?"

He wasn't the only one who could pry.

He set the button aside. "I'd actually rather not see the land razed. There are homes enough around the village for the show's purposes. Houses like the Tavistock place. I really wanted to feature the house in the show."

Propping a hip against the counter, I said, "Is that why you were meeting with Raina this morning?"

Sipping the lemonade, he lifted an eyebrow. "Word gets around fast."

"Small village."

"But yes, to answer your question. The plan was to have the home's new owner sign on as our first house hunter."

I spotted Tilda at the top of the steps, peering down from her usual eavesdropping spot as I said to him, "How? I mean, shouldn't you already be filming?"

"TV magic, Darcy. The shows are filmed after the house's closing. Imagine wasting a month of work only to see a house fall out of contract? Once the house has its closing, but before the homeowner moves in-that's when filming takes place. Raina and I were discussing how to broach the matter with the new owner once contracts are finalized. Not everyone wants to be on TV, so sometimes we have to be persuasive."

Scott should be glad that I hadn't the money to make an offer on the place. He might not have understood why I would refuse to be filmed. "Raina could be very persuasive."

A flash of sadness crossed his features. "Yes. And even though she wasn't guaranteed the job as host of the show, she was the front-runner, and as the home's real estate agent I needed her on board, no matter what."

"What time was your meeting?"

"Nine. We met in the dining room at the Pixie Cottage. She left around nine thirty, saying she had to meet a client."