Friends to Die For by Hilary Bonner Page B

they were. Funny what dogs can do to you, Greg mused. Big tough guys like Tiny, smooth operators like Billy, flash sarcastic bastards like George, even hard men like him – though he
didn’t feel that hard at the moment.
    Dogs turned you to effing mush. That’s what dogs did. And you never saw it coming.
    Both Tiny and George were adamant their dogs wouldn’t stray, but Greg reckoned where dogs were concerned there were exceptions to every rule. Years of dog ownership had taught him that
there were two phrases a dog owner should never use: ‘my dog never . . .’ and ‘my dog always . . .’.
    This, however, was different. Two dogs going missing from the same park within a few hours of each other didn’t sound coincidental. Especially after the events of the last few weeks. The
dogs might yet be safely returned, but all the friends must be on edge now. No doubt about that. Greg was certainly on edge. His own situation was a particular one though, and he wasn’t sure
how it tied in with whatever else might be happening. Unlike the other Sunday Clubbers who’d fallen victim, he had a shrewd idea who was responsible for what had happened to his tyres. And he
didn’t see how it could have anything to do with the pranks played on George and Bob, Marlena being injured, or the disappearance of the two dogs.
    Meanwhile, Karen was at home with their Westies. Greg had a sudden overwhelming desire to make sure she was all right. So he called her. And once he was sure she and their dogs were safe, he
told her about Daisy and Chump going missing.
    ‘That’s awful,’ responded Karen. ‘What do you think’s happened to the poor little things?’
    ‘I don’t know,’ replied Greg.
    ‘But it must be linked, there can’t be any doubt about that, can there?’
    Greg tried to sound positive. ‘Look, all that matters to me is that my family’s OK. And don’t you worry, darling, I’ll make damned sure of that.’
    ‘I know you will,’ said Karen in a small voice.
    ‘Too damned right,’ said Greg.
    ‘But what do I do about our dogs?’ asked Karen. ‘They’ll need to go out again soon.’
    Greg cursed. He’d pledged to look after his own family but he hadn’t thought about that when he’d promised the boys he’d stay in the park either until their return or
until one or other of the dogs showed up.
    He explained that to Karen, with apologies.
    ‘I’m really sorry, babe, I feel I should be rushing home to take our two out, but you’ll be fine as long as you keep them on a lead. And don’t bring them to
Lincoln’s Inn. I know I’m here, but even so. Keep to the main drag – don’t go down any of the alleyways. Go somewhere that’s always busy: Russell Square, maybe. And if
anything worries you, anything at all, call me.’
    ‘I will,’ said Karen. ‘Don’t worry, love. I’ll be fine. And you’re dead right to help those poor boys.’
    Greg ended the call and checked his watch. There was something he had to do later on. Someone he needed to see. But that person didn’t keep office hours. There was no need to start
fretting at four in the afternoon. The boys were sure to have returned long before he needed to make a move, and even they would probably agree there was no point waiting in the park much longer.
In any case, the gates would be locked once it got dark.
    Greg sat on a park bench by the tennis courts, lit yet another cigarette and drew deeply. It was when he was under stress that he most felt not just the desire but the need to smoke. And this
was a moment of stress all right.
    He leaned back on the cold hard seat. Things were happening that he did not entirely understand. Nothing seemed right somehow. Events were taking a sinister turn. His life was going pear-shaped.
He needed to figure out a way to get everything back on track again, and soon.
    Tiny had collected Marlena from hospital at about the same time Billy had arrived at the park. He didn’t tell her about Daisy, not at