by Marta Acosta
I went out to meet him, noticing his track pants with the department logo. I had two leads looped around my neck and tennis balls in the pockets of my hoodie. “Hello, Oliver.”
“I want you to call me Captain Desjardins.”
I put my hands on my hips and looked into those clear pale-lashed eyes. “You’re not on duty and this is my turf. If you want this to work, you’re going to have to let me teach you. You’re going to do what I ask, when I ask.”
His jaw moved back and forth, and I didn’t fight my need to shrug.
“Why do you always do that?” he said.
“We carry our tensions differently. Yours is in your jaw. Mine is everywhere and all the time so I twitch and shrug and do other freaky shit. The more I think about it and try not to do it, the worse it gets. Okay, tell me: what’s the deal with you and dogs?”
“I don’t have a deal. I don’t like them.” When I didn’t respond, he said, “My grandmother had a nasty cocker spaniel. Bit my face when I was two.” Oliver put his finger on his forehead to show me the pale indentation of a scar.
“An aggressive dog can injure and frighten a child. But you’re a grown-ass man now, approximately one-hundred-and-eighty-five pounds and fit, which gives you physical dominance over any domestic dog if you chose to use it, so let go of that childhood trauma,” I said, annoyed when I realized I was paraphrasing a therapist I’d especially disliked. “When I open the gate, you’re going to walk calmly to the far end of the exercise yard by the deck. Don’t make eye contact with the dogs and don’t pet them. Ignore them.”
“Why?”
“You establish your rank by not acknowledging them. Canines have a caste system. I’ll follow behind you. Ready?”
He nodded, but his body seemed stiff, so I said, “Be calm,” and opened the gate. As he walked by me, I smelled the neroli cologne again, so much like Claire that I wanted to lean and inhale. His held his spine straight while going forward. When the dogs approached, he didn’t look down at them or notice when Thing Two rolled over for a belly rub. He hesitated when Heidi rumbled to him for attention.
“Keep going, Oliver.”
He reached the deck and I said, “Good job,” as I went to him. “Walk back and do it again.”
By the time he returned to the deck, the dogs lost interest and he moved more easily. “Come sit here.” When he joined me, I called over a pair of muscular silver pits boarding with me while their owner was on tour. “Gorgeous beasts, aren’t they?” I rubbed the animals’ thick necks and massive block heads and when they growled, Oliver leaned away. I said, “Pits are talky dogs and growling is part of their communication. Look at their body language. See the position of their ears, turned back? They’re smiling.”
“I came here to work with the confiscated dog, not be your best friend.”
“The dog’s name is Zeus.” As I said this, Dutchie dropped a rope toy and came toward us. I signaled for the pits to move. “Oliver, meet Zeus. Zeus, meet Oliver.”
He barely glanced at the dog. “Am I supposed to do something?”
“You can admire him. Some dogs track, following air scent, and some dogs trail, following a direct path on the ground. Zeus can do both. Now we’re going for a run.” I took a lead and snapped it on Zeus’s collar and then called Bertie and attached a lead to his collar.
“What’s the point of this?”
“Running together helps build a bond and also focuses his attention in the now and forward. It’s a natural activity for all canidae. It’s fine to ask questions, but there are times when I’ll need you to act instantly and ask later.” I showed him how to hold the leash and how to apply a correction. “Never give a correction in anger. Dogs do what dogs do and there’s no moral component to their behavior. They behave instinctually. I’ll start off and hand Zeus to you. Keep him on your left with the lead relaxed in your hand. He’ll read tension and stress.”
I began jogging at an easy pace, taking in the crisp morning air, and feeling the soft, damp grasses underfoot, while the two dogs ran side by side as if they’d always run this way. After a minute, I said, “Take it” and handed Oliver Zeus’s lead. “Relax from your shoulder to your fingertips.”
Zeus, predictably, balked and swerved over toward me. “Correct him,” I said.
Oliver followed my instructions, and soon he and Zeus had caught up. When we were all running in synchronicity, I veered off the ranch to the neighbor’s riding trail. Sharp-edged leaves from the Live oaks and twigs sounded underfoot, and the air smelled faintly, though not unpleasantly of horseshit warming in the sun. Things moved the way they should, branches waving slowly, and sparrows flitting. Far above us, a hawk glided in the cloudless sky. Light glinted off Oliver’s hair the way it did on Claire’s, shimmering from gold to copper.
Bertie began lagging so I dropped to a walk and Oliver slowed to meet my pace.
“Bertie keeps veering to you.”
“You mean Zeus. Keep him to your left.”
“They both look the same.”
“Yes, just like you look like every other cop or deputy I’ve seen. Get to know your dog and the distinctions will be evident.” I led us to another path to the road.
Two riders on horses were coming our way. “Zeus is okay with horses. Keep him closer without tugging up on the leash.”
I was focused on Oliver and didn’t see that one of the riders was Beryl until she was right up on us. “Morning, Maddie, Oliver!”
“Hey, Beryl,” I said, moving off the trail so the horses could pass.
“Morning, ladies,” Oliver flashed a smile at Beryl.
She twisted back in her saddle to say, “Did you get up early or is this the end of a long night?”
“It’s business,” Oliver said.
“Oh, of course it is,” Beryl said, flipping her gleaming red hair and smirking at her companion.
Their horses clomped on and then we heard the women’s laughter.
“I can’t believe Beryl Jensen thinks I’m with you,” Oliver said.
“I can’t believe Beryl thinks you’re with anybody.”
“I get my share, Whitney, but some of us have better things to do than go to the Country Squire waggling their ass at strangers.”
“I was having a soda and why is my ass a reoccurring theme with you?”
“I’ve had enough of you for today.” With that, he began to run again. I wanted to chase after him and knock him to the ground, roll him on his back to show I was in charge, but I took one look at Bertie, and saw one paw raised.
I crouched down and found a splinter in his paw. I tried to extricate it with my fingernails, but I’d bitten them too short. In desperation, I used my teeth to pull the sliver out. By the time we’d returned to the ranch, Oliver was standing with my sister by his Jeep and they were laughing about something. The Dutch Shepard was nowhere in sight.
“Where’s Zeus?”
“I returned him to the lot.”
“In future, don’t go into the Center without me or on my instructions.” I jerked away from Maddie who was trying to touch my face.
She threw up her hands and said, “Maddie, Oliver was telling me about his department’s plans for Bonanza Days. Their float is going to be a tank.”
“A Bearcat Armored Personnel Carrier,” he said. “We should have one before the end of the year.”
“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard,” I said. “What’s it going to cost the county and why the hell do we need it?”
“It’s excess military equipment and I’d like to be prepared for any crisis.”
“Then make fucking jam!”
“Maddie,” my sister said sternly, and they watched me while I clenched my hands once, twice, three, four, five times. If Kenzie wasn’t there, Oliver would have yelled back. Instead he leaned against his Jeep, infuriatingly calm.
“I mean, solve Sherry Rae’s murder first,” I said. “Was she killed in situ or moved? Why haven’t any more facts been released, or
have you even investigated?”
“You know enough. We’re not releasing details because we don’t want to give anything away to the perpetrator or perpetrators.”
“Speaking of crime,” Kenzie said, “what about the man who assaulted Maddie at the Brewhouse?”
“She’s welcome to file a report,” Oliver said. “I already had a talk with him and don’t think he’ll be bothering her anymore.”
“Thanks, Oliver!” Kenzie reached out to squeeze his arm.
He smiled at her, showing even white teeth like Claire’s. “Nice seeing you, Kenzie.” In a flat voice, he said, “Maddie.”
“See you next Saturday,” I said as he opened his car door.
“I’m busy. I can do Wednesday, eight in the morning.”
“Fine.”
“Fine.”
As he drove off, Kenzie said, “Why do you antagonize him?”
“Why does he antagonize me? A Bearcat, seriously? Main Street isn’t a war zone and he doesn’t need military equipment to deal with Ring-A-Bell dirtbags.”
“You should be grateful he dealt with the man who attacked you.”
“Are you telling me how to feel?”
“I’m telling you how most people would feel so you have a baseline of knowledge. So how was your training?”
“He assumed he’d run the show, but I set him straight. At least he was able to keep up with me.”
“Is that why he was here ten minutes before you?”
“Bertie had a splinter in his paw,” I said, blinking because it hurt me to think my dog in pain. “Oliver could not be more apathetic about Zeus. I don’t know how Claire stands him.”
“I could respond in so many ways, Maddie. By the way, you have dirt all over your mouth.”
“I said that Bertie had a splinter.” I lifted the hem of my shirt and used it to wipe my face, exposing my belly.
I dropped the hem, and Maddie said, “I’m not going to ask how you got those ugly scratches. I’m going to do laundry and pretend I live in a world where everything is fluffy and clean. Then I’m going to Christopher’s.”
“Go ahead. I can amuse myself.”
“That’s what worries me.”
When I went to the center, Zeus was splashing in the plastic pool, his leash still attached to his collar. I unclipped it and then went into my office, and wrote invoices for Zeus’s food and board at the Special rate and added “Discounted County Rate” to the bill. When the phone rang with Beryl’s number, I let it go to voicemail.
Curiosity got to me, so I listened a minute later. “So nice seeing you this morning, Maddie! I’m having a few friends over for cocktails at eight. Come by and say hello. And invite Oliver! Hope you two can make it.”
“Not fucking likely,” I said, and deleted the message.
ANOTHER SATURDAY EVENING and I had nothing going on. I went online and found photos of Claire and the girl with the pixie haircut at Big Sur. She’d once asked me to go with her, but I never managed to arrange my schedule. Claire showed up on an artists’ network, still identified as “Divorced.” I’d asked her about it after she broke up with me and she’d said, “I’m divorced from the expectation that women are only complete if we’re in paired relationships. I’m divorced from publically announcing who shares my bed to the World Wide Web as if anyone cares other than my stalker ex. I’m divorced from people who are divorced from reality.”
I was in the middle of writing my monthly newsletter when Kenzie knocked on the door frame and said, “What are you doing?”
“I’m writing a guide to cleaning dogs’ ears. I did anal sacks last week. I lead a glamorous life.”
“You were on television. People throng to you.”
“Throng is a strange word. I wish someone would throng to me tonight. When I was with Claire, I knew we’d spend weekends together. It was so much easier.”
“Why don’t you call Georgie?”
“I already did. She’s going to one of her kid’s recitals and invited me, but I’d rather gouge my eyes out than listen to strange children mangle music.”
“I hope you didn’t say that to her. What about your other friends?”
“What other friends? They all thronged to Claire and blocked me. I only wanted to talk about Claire and make sure she was okay.” I opened and slid shut my desk drawer ten times. It didn’t make me feel any better, so I opened and shut it again a few more times, with no positive outcomes. “It’s hard to care for someone and not know what they’re doing.”
She sighed. “I know, Mad Girl. I’m taking off now. You don’t have to go out just because it’s Saturday.”
“I know, but...” I saw Kenzie’s brows knit together and knew I could make her change her plans. I could make her cancel with Christopher and stay with me and we could go to the Brewhouse or drive to the new club by the lake. “You’re right. It’s arbitrary to go out on Saturday nights. Beryl, who is under the delusion we’re friends, invited me over so maybe I’ll go there, drink her expensive wine and take plastic baggies so I can score appetizers before leaving.”
She smiled. “That’s my Maddie.” We hugged and kissed goodbye and I smelled a too sweet perfume she only wore when going out.
“Have fun with Christopher.”
“I’ll be back by dinner tomorrow. Keep Bertie close when you’re by yourself.” She hesitated in the doorway, worry clouding her eyes, and I smiled and waved her off.
I’D SHOWERED AND WAS staring at my closet when Ben called. “Ben! What’s up?”
“I had an emergency call and now I’m stuck in town for the night. I don’t suppose you’re free for dinner?”
An hour later, we were at a restaurant in Lakewood, sitting on the patio which overlooked the water. Ben wore a button-down shirt, slacks and loafers. “Ava and I spent the whole morning looking at houses with a realtor. Nothing is worse than shopping for a house.”
“I hate everything about shopping for anything.”
“I won’t ask you to go with me to pick out my next suit then,” he said. “I saw this place when we checked out a four-bedroom with a dock.”
“Would you live this far outside Coyote Run?”
“It’s not my first choice. It’s difficult to decide when we’re still unfamiliar with the area. We might rent first and buy later.”
“Is Ava a full-time mom?”
“She works as a part-time SAT tutor. She makes more than she did working full-time and it gives her flexibility.”
Kenzie would be a good tutor, I thought, and then she’d have more free time. So I asked about tutoring and we talked about our jobs, ordered margaritas, platters of food, and leaned close to hear each other while cumbia music blared.
“You’ve changed your hair.”
“Kenzie changed it. She’s the girly one.”
“You’re smiling.”
“Thinking of her always makes me smile. She’s different with me, you know. With other people, she’s friendly and sweet and with me...she stomps and bosses me around. Which I like, but only from her.”
He told me about his family, a big complicated network across the state, and I told him about ours. “My parents split up when I was seven and my father didn’t pay child support. My mother rented our ranch and we moved to a crappy one-bedroom apartment in Tucson. Kenzie and I shared the sofa and our brother slept on a cot. My father is probably still lying and cheating wherever he is.” The wind gusted up carrying the scents of motor boat oil, algae, and coconut suntan lotion, and giving me an excuse to shudder because I felt uneasy disclosing so much. “He’s the reason Kenzie’s distrustful about men. She thinks men and women can’t be friends, but clearly it’s possible. I’m friends with Jaison, Dawg, and now you. I was pals with Doc Pete.”
“What’s Dawg’s story? I’m asking because he seems overqualified for the job.”
“He knows more than most vet techs, but he likes the front office, but he fell apart every time an animal was put down, so Doc Pete moved him to the front
desk. He’s a good fit there because he likes talking to people and knows everyone in town. Give him rein and he’ll handle small matters and screen out unnecessary visits.”
The waiter brought the bill, and I looked anxiously at it. Now I’d have to go home and wait through the dark hours until morning, listening for strange sounds.
Ben said, “I invited you. I’ll take care of it. Do you want to see a movie? ”
“I don’t go to movies. I can’t abide sitting beside, behind, or in front of anyone annoying or talkative. We could go to my house.” I thought for a few seconds and said, “You could help me with a top secret project.”
“Is it legal?”
“Yes, but people will be offended, which is why it’s secret.”
His lips went up under his beard. “Now I’m too curious to say no.”
We picked up two pints of ice cream, a bottle of sparkling pinot, and a big bag of peanut M&Ms at the Suncrest Market. “My treat since you paid for dinner. We’ll alternate,” I said to Ben, and I waved to Julie, who was cashing out her register.
And, even though I told Kenzie I was fine alone, I was relieved to have someone with me.
BEN OPENED THE WINE and I scooped out ice cream. I put my laptop on the kitchen table and opened a bookmarked page. “So this is my anonymous site, Barking Mad Reviews, and I’m critiquing any and every performance by a dog in a commercial, series, or movie.”
“Why would anyone be offended?”
“I have no idea why. I just know they are. Let’s start with Moose, may he rest in peace, who played Eddie in ‘Frasier’, because there were episodes when he phoned it in.”
“Hmm.”
“See, even you don’t want to hear Moose criticized. Personally, I object to naming one animal after another animal. Who is your favorite dog actor?”
“I like the golden retriever in the baked bean commercials.”
“Jake? He’s genius.”
Ben and I settled into our project, sipping wine, and searching for video clips, and even though we were just friends, I was too aware of the man beside me.