Raining Cats & Dogs (A Melanie Travis Mystery) (27 page)

“Wait!” Doug jumped up.

The sudden movement startled Brando. The Boxer had been standing with his back to the table, sniffing the trash can next to the sideboard. Now his body stiffened as he spun around to face us. He landed with his feet braced in a pugnacious stance and jutted his jaw forward as he weighed the situation.

Instantly Ben was on his feet as well. He crossed the room quickly to stand beside his dog. “Easy boy,” he said, his hand reaching down to cup Brando’s muzzle.

At first glance the gesture looked like a caress. But watching a moment longer I realized he was holding the Boxer’s mouth shut. And maybe muffling a low growl.

Interesting. It looked like there might be aggression issues there that Ben was trying to downplay.

Bill must have seen the same thing I did. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched as he unobtrusively slipped a hand down and refastened Ginger’s leash.

“Maybe you’re right,” Doug said to Larry. “We certainly wouldn’t want to force any of you to place your dogs in a situation that makes you uncomfortable. This is only our first get-together, after all. We’re still feeling our way here, finding out what works and what doesn’t.”

Larry slowly sat back down. Lisa followed suit.

“Fine,” said Cindy. “Then let’s try this a different way. Everybody up and out into the middle of the room. Dogs on leashes.” She glanced at Ben, who quickly complied. “Now that everyone’s under control, just let your dogs be dogs. Let them do what they want to do. And we’ll just observe and see what happens.”

All of us liked that idea much better. Each of the five contestants was well socialized, each had been to dog shows. They all knew how to behave in polite company.

Faith and Ginger had touched noses and wagged their tails. MacDuff ignored the others and sniffed around for crumbs under the table. Yoda circled the room looking elegant and composed, her blue-grey coat rippling as she moved. Brando sidled over and discreetly stole a biscuit off the sideboard, which he swallowed in one quick gulp.

Meanwhile, the committee stood together off to one side, watching the various antics and taking notes. Twenty minutes later, they decided they had what they’d wanted. Good thing because the dogs were beginning to tire. I wished I’d thought to bring a thermos of water for Faith.

“That’s a wrap,” Doug announced. “Thank you all for coming. Everyone was great. Chris, Cindy, Simone, and I will get together this afternoon and compare first impressions. Sometime in the next couple days, you’ll receive an e-mail letting you know what the next test is going to be. Please feel free to stop at the reception desk on the way out and pick up a gift basket of Champions products.”

I heaved a sigh of relief and headed straight for the door. Some of the other contestants hung back—probably wanting to curry more favor with the judges—but Faith and I had had enough. We were more than ready to go home.

I’d promised the Poodle that we’d take the stairs on the way out. Exiting the conference room, I saw that a red-lettered
EXIT
sign marked their location at the end of the hallway. But it was hot outside, our car would be stifling from sitting in the sun, and we were twenty minutes from home. Before heading down, I detoured into the ladies’ room to get Faith something to drink.

Lacking a bowl or a cup, I filled the nearest sink with cold water. Then I hopped the Poodle’s front feet up onto the porcelain rim and let her lap. I was glad I’d taken the time to stop; Faith drank thirstily.

When we emerged from the ladies’ room, the hallway was empty. I pushed open the heavy fire door that led to the stairwell and Faith ran on ahead. Quickly she trotted down two flights of stairs with me hurrying to keep up. We had only one flight to go when I heard a door open above us.

The sound of hushed voices echoed through the vertical chamber. More of my fellow contestants, I guessed. I probably wasn’t the only one whose dog didn’t like elevators.

Quick footsteps tapped a staccato beat on the metal steps above us. Then I heard a sudden scream. It was followed quickly by a series of thumps. Faith and I both froze where we stood.

“Hello?” I called out. No one answered. Only my own word echoed back.

A door slammed. I thought I heard someone moan.

Then I heard the patter of little feet and Yoda came flying down the steps, trailing her gossamer ribbon leash. Without even stopping to think, I leaned down and opened my arms. The little Yorkie flew right into them.

“It’s all right,” I said, as she pushed her tiny body into me and burrowed close to my chest. “You’re going to be all right.”

Damn, I thought. I really hated lying to a dog.