This book is for three dear friends whom I have come to love: Kay, Lorraine and Jennifer. Thanks for everything.

There are so many people who help bring a book to life. My family: Mike, Jillian, Jeffrey, Shawn, Allison and Maddison make my world so much better. Thank you. The Tuesday night critique group, which tells me where I’ve gone wrong and what I’ve done right, has done much to shape this story. Kay, Amy, Laura, Dean, Bob, Millie, Susie, Charlie and Isabella hold a special place in my heart. The “fur” friends who inspire me—Indigo, Agatha Christie, Archie Goodwin, Rosie, Curry and Enzo have all helped the animal characters in my books act like they should. The cozy writers who are always beside me in spirit—I am so grateful for your support. My agent, Carol, stands by me and encourages me. Thanks for that! Last of all, I thank the best editor any writer could hope for. Claire, you are forever the best of the best.

I try not to lie. Honest. But as I drove my minivan down the curving treelined road on the Longworth Estate, I convinced myself no other tactic would work. Not with the rules that Shawn Cuddahee of the Mercy Animal Sanctuary had told me I must obey during my visit to the owner of this grand mansion.

The Greek Revival house loomed in the distance, a stunning home in Woodcrest, South Carolina, and only fifteen miles from my place in Mercy. From what little research I’d done before embarking on this mission, I learned that the property encompassed twelve acres and that the historic house—brilliant white with tall green shutters—was more than a century old and four stories high. Having never been in an honest-to-goodness antebellum mansion as anything but a tourist, I felt a flutter of excitement. If I could get over my guilt about the lies I was about to tell, I might enjoy my assignment.