“I don’t disagree,” Dahlia said, making an effort to sound neutral. Any trouble that involved the werewolves would involve Taffy. “I think we should tell Joaquin that the shepherd needs to come here now, or as soon as he’s returned.”

Katamori said “Yes,” but in an absent way. Dahlia went to the swinging door. As she’d expected, one of Joaquin’s friends, a wispy brunette named Rachel, was waiting in the hall. Dahlia explained what she needed, and Rachel raced off. Cedric had forbidden the use of cell phones in the mansion, and Joaquin had not rescinded that rule yet, though Dahlia had heard that he would.

In two minutes Gerhard, the shepherd of the evening, came striding down the hall to join Dahlia. She could tell by the way he walked that he was angry, though he was smiling. That perpetual smile shone as hard as Gerhard’s short corn-blond hair, which gleamed under the lights like polished silk. He’d lived in Rhodes for fifty years, but he and Dahlia had never become friends.

Dahlia didn’t have many friends. She was quite all right with that.

“What would you like to know?” Gerhard asked. His German accent was pronounced despite his long years in the United States.

“Tell me about taking the humans out of here,” Dahlia said. “How did you come to leave this one behind?”

Gerhard stiffened. “Are you saying I was derelict in my duties?”

“I’m trying to find out what happened,” Dahlia said, not too patiently. “Your execution of your duties is not my concern, but Joaquin’s. The man is here. He isn’t supposed to be. How did that come about?”

Gerhard was obliged to reply. “I gathered the humans together to leave. We came to the kitchen. I followed procedure by showing them the food and drink provided. After ten minutes, I told them it was time to go. I counted as we left, and the number was correct.”

“But here he is,” Katamori said, straightening from his crouched position by the body. “So either your count was incorrect, you are lying, or an extra human took his place. What is your explanation?”