Trained To Protect. Linda O. Johnston
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too—with one hand on each of the dogs’ heads.
What was she thinking?
And how was he going to approach the questions he needed to ask her?
So what was this really about? Elissa wondered. She did find Doug appealing and thought that he, too, might feel some attraction between them—but she didn’t think that was why he’d asked her to have coffee with him.
What were his questions?
He soon returned to their table and placed a medium-size cup of mocha in front of her. As far as she could tell, he’d chosen the same size black coffee.
Plus, he’d brought a bowl with water in it, which he placed on the floor near the dogs.
He was a considerate guy, then, including as far as dogs were concerned.
When he sat, he looked at her as he took a sip from his cup. The expression in those hazel eyes of his looked particularly intense, especially since his brow was furrowed, arching his thick brown eyebrows even more.
Even more curious now, Elissa thanked him for the mocha, took a sip of the rich brew and then waited for him to speak.
“So what made you decide to apply for the job at the K-9 Ranch?” he finally asked. “Especially on a part-time basis, so far from your home and regular job?”
Why did he want to learn that? She didn’t ask, though. Instead she replied, “Impulse, of sorts—though I’m not really an impulsive person. But the Chance K-9 Ranch has such a wonderful reputation. At least it did when its original owner, Corbin Belott, was there. And now I’ve seen all sorts of praise online about how it’s coming back, how so many police K-9s are being trained along with their handlers—and even great pet training, too, despite its rather remote location. I love its website and the demonstrations shown there, too. When I saw they were looking for someone to work with therapy dog handlers, I thought, ‘Hey, that’s me,’ so here I am.”
She smiled at him. That wasn’t really all of it, of course. She’d worked with some wonderful therapy dog trainers and handlers before but had been looking for a different direction, something even more special as an adjunct to the part of her life devoted to nursing and helping ill and injured people medically...and psychologically, which really appealed to her. And what was more psychologically helpful to those in need than therapy dogs?
If she could help a lot more caring people to gain appropriate credentials with their dogs in a setting like the K-9 Ranch, well, then, she had to do it. Providing ongoing classes sounded wonderful.
“I see,” Doug said, though his expression was now somewhat blank, as if he didn’t see at all. “And are all the people where you work as a nurse on board with you doing this?”
Puzzlement flooded through her. Why would he ask that? “Those who know about it seem fine with it.” Would they continue to when she had to negotiate more about the days and hours she’d be available? That was unknown, but she’d deal with it.
“That’s good. So all’s well with you, and Peace, and you are both fine with your becoming trainers here in Chance?”
“Yes.” She knew her response sounded short and frustrated—but maybe it was because his questions had started a stirring in her, a reminder of yesterday and her return home to find Peace acting so strange.
Not that it had ever really left her thoughts.
“Yes,” she repeated. “Although...” She let her word trail off, knowing she should only act completely sure of herself. But heck, she was in the presence of a cop, a dog-loving one at that. Maybe he would have some ideas about how she could figure out what had bothered her dog yesterday.
“Although what?” he prompted.
“Look, this probably has nothing at all to do with my interviewing for a job here, but the problem is that I don’t have a clue about the reason. Yesterday, when I returned home after interviewing for the job with Amber, my usually sweet, calm, loving dog Peace acted really strange.”
Interest and concern seemed to take over Doug’s expression. Did he really give a damn? “Strange how?”
She described how Peace had behaved, from her barking to roving from room to room and not even acting completely calm after they’d taken their walk and gone to bed. “I didn’t see anything unusual to cause her to act that way. But it was so uncharacteristic. I wondered whether, if I brought another dog in, I’d get any similar reaction, if there was some scent in my home that was causing it, but I didn’t want to alert any of my friends to something that probably meant absolutely nothing.”
“Or maybe it actually meant something.”
Then Doug believed her? Gave a damn?
Was his interest part of some kind of flirtation?
She didn’t think so. He seemed too serious, too professional as a cop.
“I just wish I knew,” she responded.
“Well, how about if Hooper and I accompany Peace and you back to your home and I let my very special K-9 have a sniff around?”
Doug followed Elissa in her black SUV down the 101 Freeway in his large police vehicle and wished he’d driven her, or even ridden with her, so they’d be in the same car, able to talk. Though he wanted to check out her place to try to figure out if her dog’s actions were in some way related to the sign found on the K-9 Ranch, he had no intention of staying in San Luis Obispo for long. Therefore he’d needed a set of wheels so he could leave when he wanted to.
As it was, he was stretching his claim of still being on duty, though he had reported to his commanding officer to let her know where he was going and why, as well as an estimate of the time he’d return. She’d given him permission to continue working on this matter, even if it meant he could not take on the other case he and Maisie had been previously assigned to look into. He’d also called on his cell phone as he’d taken off after Elissa to let Maisie know where he was going, and his sister had sounded anything but pleased.
“She’s caught up in a case now,” she had told him. “You know better than to get involved with her in any way other than professionally.”
“That’s all I’m doing,” he had attempted to assure Maisie. “She had a problem at her home that could be connected with our investigation at the K-9 Ranch.”
“Which itself isn’t much of a case,” Maisie had retorted. “A possible threat with no substance to it.”
“But you know the department’s position about Amber Belott and the Chance K-9 Ranch,” he’d reminded her. “She helped us solve her own father’s murder, and the current view is that we owe her. So we need to find out if that threat is legit, and who placed it there and why. That’s what I’m working on.”
“Sure,” Maisie had said, and they’d quickly ended the call.
Fortunately the traffic wasn’t bad so they reached Elissa’s home fairly quickly. “Okay, boy,” Doug said to Hooper after parking along the street and getting his dog out of the back. “You’re on.” No need to put Hooper’s official vest on him for this, though he’d be on duty—kind of.
And Doug was curious whether even a trained police K-9 would find a reason for Peace’s alleged odd behavior. It was probably nothing. Under other circumstances, Doug wouldn’t have given it a second thought, let alone take a substantial chunk out of his day to check it out.
But behind it all was that potentially threatening sign: Be Careful Who You Hire.
The driveway Elissa had pulled into was narrow and led to the garage of a house that appeared to have been there for a while. Its stucco seemed worn, and it looked a lot more rundown than its nearby neighbors.