by Ann Whitaker
I looked across the table at Marlon and summoned a smile. He deserved that much for not slavering over Babe. I just hoped the rest of the evening would go faster than the first part. Was I expecting too much? My sister had found a man. My friends found them. Even my mother. What was wrong with me?
After dinner, Marlon suggested a movie. Normally, I’d have been thrilled, but instead I feigned a headache. I glanced over at Nick and Babe as we left, but neither of them looked up. Too gaga over each other, no doubt.
When we got back to Casa del Lago, Marlon insisted on seeing me to my door, but I lied and said I had business to take care of in the big house. I couldn’t bear to have him walk down the same pathway where I’d walked with Nick. Where I’d kissed Nick.
Marlon gave me a quick peck on the cheek, and told me what a wonderful time he’d had. I hedged when he asked when he could see me again, telling him I’d have to check my calendar. Hell, I didn’t even have a calendar.
I stood at the front door, waiting until the black steed he’d ridden up on was just a faint light at the bottom of the hill, wondering if Nick and Babe had enjoyed their dinner more than I had mine.
Chapter Eighteen
A smothering, overcast sky met me when I left my apartment. I dreamed of returning home to escape the pain of seeing Nick with Babe again. Instead, time passed slower than an Abilene driver.
When I opened the back door to the big house, Noche and Blanco greeted me by leaping into the air and emitting high-pitched barks of joy. I hooked on their leads and led them outside to a clearing in the trees.
At first they were attentive, obeying each command, but they soon picked up on my lethargy. Each time we stopped, Noche nuzzled my hand, and Blanco leaned her body into mine. After half an hour or so, I gave up, lowering myself to the ground and hugging them to me, one on each side. “I’m okay, guys. A little down in the dumps. Not your fault.”
I buried my face in Blanco’s soft coat and closed my eyes. The crunch of footsteps startled me. The bushes rustled and parted. From my position on the ground, I saw a man’s legs headed toward me. I let out a scream that sent both dogs into a paroxysm of barking. The man yelped, and I leaped to my feet and screamed again, ready to run.
The barks quickly shifted to yips of pleasure. Berto was leaning over, hand on his heart, chest heaving. “You scared the hell out of me!”
“Well, you scared me first!”
“I was just making sure you were safe. Waco isn’t Abilene, you know. This place is like the Bermuda Triangle of News, most of it bad.”
I feigned confidence, though my heart still beat double-time. “I’m a big girl.”
We both knew better after my experience at Lovers Leap. I put the dogs in a down-stay, while Berto leaned against a tree and watched. I concentrated on the dogs and breathed deeply to calm my nerves, hoping he’d leave.
Instead, when I looked up, he took a step toward me, then stopped. “Can I help?”
I blinked. Was he joking? “You mean, help with the dogs?”
“Yes.” He lowered his head and reached down to tighten a shoelace that needed no tightening. “I thought I could fill in for Carmen. Only if you want me to.”
Was this the same Berto who’d given Carmen the ultimatum to choose between him and the dogs? What was he up to now? I’d seen no evidence he even liked the dogs.
I searched for a hidden motive, analyzing his face for clues. “Do you know anything about training dogs?”
“No, just what I’ve seen you and Carmen do. I, uh…watch sometimes. I’ve got to say, you’ve accomplished a miracle with these two. Just look at them.”
Forgive me, but Berto’s words filled my heart with the most serious of the seven deadly sins—pride. Noche and Blanco were impressive. Neither dog had budged from the stay. Blanco’s eyes were closed, but each time I spoke, Noche’s ears twitched, as if eager to respond to my next command.
Berto watched them in amazement. “They were never this calm before. Before you came they jumped on anybody and everybody. And at night—”
I held up my hand to stop him. “Enough. Let’s give it a try. First, some basics. Much of the success of training a dog is learning how to signal your expectations. Just because they obey me or Carmen doesn’t mean they’ll obey you, since you don’t know their language. You do have one advantage, though.” That got Berto’s attention.
He shrugged and held his palms up. “What?”
“You’re a man.”
“So?”
“Don’t let it go to your head, but...” I switched into lecture mode. “It’s not your gender they’ll respond to but your voice. When a mother dog wants her pups to obey, she gives a low growl. So the lower your voice, the more they’ll pay attention.” I demonstrated by speaking in a lower tone.
Berto tugged his ear and nodded.
I continued my lecture. “It’s imperative you be consistent. Never reward them until they’ve followed your command. Otherwise, they’ll have no motivation to obey. Eventually, praise can become their reward, but for now, we’re using these tiny pieces of fat-free wieners. The smell and the fact it’s not part of their regular diet will motivate them to perform the desired behavior.”
I walked over to where Noche and Blanco lay and picked up their leads. “You’re free!” I said, using a high, excited voice. The dogs leaped up and looked at me. “Good dogs!” I gave them each a small piece of wiener and a big hug.
Thus, began my training of Berto. I’d model, and he’d follow. His natural authoritarian personality translated well to the dogs, and they were eager to win his praise. No wonder. “Get out” was probably the only thing he’d ever said to them until now.
I made sure to praise Berto as much as I did the dogs.
After twenty minutes or so, we took a water break. Berto and I sat beneath a tree, while Noche and Blanco played chase with each other off lead, never straying from our sight.
Berto scratched his neck. “I’ve begun to see how much these dogs mean to Carmen. I decided—even before she sprained her fingers—I needed to help her more, just as I did with our children.”
“In her mind, Noche and Blanco are her children.”
“I know. And great company for her since I’m gone so much.”
I slid my eyes sideways, trying to gauge the sincerity of this new, improved Berto.
He picked up a twig and poked at a leaf. “Something else. Use the pool for Philip’s therapy whenever you want.”
Was this the same Berto who’d had the pool drained after Noche and Blanco jumped in?
He looked up at me. “After Nick told me about the tub…”
Uh-oh. Wonder what else Nick told you. “Thanks, that would really help. He’s trained. I promise he won’t pee in the water.”
Berto began breaking the twig into small pieces. “I’m sorry I’ve seemed harsh. I was skeptical at first you could pull this off. Mainly because of Carmen. You know now how headstrong she is. That’s why the other trainers didn’t work out. But you’ve gotten through to her. She’s changed as much as the dogs.”
A pleasant warmth suffused my face. I swallowed to clear the lump in my throat. “Thank you,” I finally managed to peep, then directed the subject away from me. “About Carmen. I’ve been thinking I should keep the two dogs with me. So she can recover. And that way I can also provide added reinforcement to all they’ve learned. Carmen really wants them to do well at their debut.”
“Fine with me.” He stood up and tossed the pieces of broken twig on the ground. “And if you don’t mind, I’d rather you not tell her I’m helping. I want this to be her success.”
“I understand.” At that moment I thought I understood something else. Berto had never intended to leave Carmen. He’d been bluffing all along.
He looked down at me and scuffed his shoe in the grass. “I’m not good with words, but I appreciate everything you’ve done for us. And I have another favor to ask.”
I winced, knowing what was coming next. I
couldn’t really blame him. His family could be in danger.
“It concerns our mutual friend.” He squatted, picked up a bigger stick, and jabbed it at the ground. “You know what he did to our daughter. When she quit seeing him, he also made up all kinds of stories about us. As if it was our fault. The guy’s a nutcase.”
I let out a deep breath. “I agree. And I’d like to help, but filing charges isn’t going to do any good. For one, there are no corroborating witnesses. Two, to charge someone with aggravated assault, there has to be a knife, a gun, or a beating. Even if they arrested him—which I doubt they would—he’d bond out, and the case would get dismissed before it ever went to court. At best, it would start a paper trail, but the courts are usually too busy to deal with what they consider minor issues. Also, the fact he’s a cop doesn’t help our case.”
Berto’s shoulders drooped. “Nick said your sister’s a lawyer. Did she tell you all that?”
I chuckled. “No, Judge Judy.”
He looked baffled.
“You know. On TV?”
He shook his head.
“You should watch it sometime, but never mind. I also called my sister.”
“So there’s nothing we can do?” Like Carmen’s, his dark brown eyes reminded me of Noche’s. I lightly touched his arm.
“Maybe. I have something special in my doggy bag of tricks.”
Berto reached up and ran a hand through his hair. “Then you better pull it out. Butch Justice was released from the hospital a few hours ago.”
Back in my apartment, Noche and Blanco sniffed Philip with interest, and he sniffed back with no repercussions. Still, I feared the two males wouldn’t co-exist well, and I couldn’t take any chances. Since I couldn’t very well kick Philip out of his new digs and didn’t want to shut them in separate rooms, I had only one other choice—I’d have to ask Nick to babysit Noche when I wasn’t around to supervise.
But first, Plan B, Step Two. I picked up the phone and punched in a number. When a man answered, I identified myself. “Time to move into action,” I said. He knew what to do.
When I heard Nick return to his apartment, I walked around to his side, drew a deep breath, and tapped on his door. I hated asking for favors, especially from him.
He opened the door and leaned against the jamb, barefoot and bare-chested. His jeans rode low below his navel. I forced myself to focus on his face. He stood there, silent, his lips forming a half-smile. His eyes began to caress my body, warming each part in turn. He might as well have put me on a spit over hot coals and turned me till I was done.
I should hate him. I should be disgusted with myself. But Tess, Toss, and Terone still raged inside me whenever he was near. Hormones had no pride. But it wasn’t just the physical attraction. He’d helped with Philip, even though he was afraid of dogs. He’d helped with Noche and Blanco. He’d covered me with a blanket in New Orleans and stayed with me. My mind thought back to all his other gentle kindnesses.
“Coming in?” he finally asked. When I hesitated, he added, “Don’t worry. I’m safe.”
About as safe as a condom made from Swiss cheese.
My eyes swept over his living area, the mirror image of mine, except his had a more masculine feel, leather and rough wood with few decorative touches.
“Have a seat.” He gestured to the dark leather sofa. “To what do I owe this honor?” His tone was serious now, his eyes cool. He sat across from me.
“I need a favor.”
He raised an eyebrow. “And what could I possibly have that you want?”
Against my will, my eyes grazed his bare torso. His chest glowed a golden brown, his biceps bulged like baseballs, and his shoulders tapered down to washboard abs that made me think of anything but laundry. He smiled, as if he might have read my mind.
“I need you to keep Noche.” I held up a hand and continued before he had a chance to protest, my words tumbling out. “Though the bitch is almost always the alpha dog, two males in a pack often don’t get along. It’s just their nature, and I don’t want Philip or Noche hurt. Philip’s already at a disadvantage. You only have to keep him till Carmen’s party. Once that’s done, and she’s proven to Berto she can control them, Philip and I will be outta here. I know you’re afraid of dogs, but you’ve been around Noche since he was a pup, and he likes you. Pleeese?”
Before he could speak, I forged ahead. “You don’t have to take him with you when you leave. I just need a place for him to stay when I’m not in the apartment. If you won’t do it for me, then please do it for Berto and Carmen.”
Nick stroked his chin and let out a deep breath. “Only if you remain on call. I’ll need your phone number.”
“Don’t you have the number?”
“To your new cell phone.”
“Oh, that. Deal. I’ll get Noche now.”
“And keep your phone turned on. You do know how to use it, don’t you?”
I lifted my head and glowered at him. “I’m not a total idiot.”
He laughed. “Do I ever know that.”
I hesitated. “And I’ll need a key to your apartment. So I can let Noche in and out.”
Nick rubbed his bottom lip with his thumb.
“Well?”
“Sure. No problem.” But his hesitation told me he wasn’t overjoyed.
Curious as to what the rest of his apartment looked like, I peered over his shoulder, but all I saw was darkness.
****
Plan B began to work even better than I’d anticipated. One morning as I munched on a piece of toast, the phone rang. On the other end, Carmen poured forth a mixture of Spanish and English so rapidly I couldn’t even comprehend the English. “Wait a minute. Slow down. English, por favor.”
“Some great news, Julie! Berto just woke me up to show me.”
Whatever it was, it must be important for anyone to awaken Carmen so early. She was breathless. “It’s about Butch. Meet us at the house.”
As soon as I walked in, Carmen grabbed my arm and pulled me into the library. Berto, Nick, and Babe sat in a semicircle in front of the fireplace, and when I walked in, they all looked up.
“Here she is.” Carmen practically pushed me into a chair. “You’re responsible for this, aren’t you?”
I held up my hands in protest. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
She thrust the morning paper at me and pointed to the front page. “He’s been arrested. Look. There’s his picture.”
Sure enough, the dominant picture on Page One showed Butch in handcuffs, head down, wearing an orange jumpsuit.
I smiled. “I did not file charges.”
Babe crossed her legs and jiggled her dainty foot. “You know what we’re talking about. Someone sent pictures of Butch to the police chief. It had to be you.”
“Me? I don’t even own a camera!” I was telling the truth about that. What I didn’t tell them was I had hired a private detective to follow him. The private detective had sent me photographs of Butch. And I had sent the photos to the police chief, anonymously. Beyond that, I knew nothing, but if Butch had gotten himself arrested, he deserved it.
Carmen was relishing her role as messenger. “Someone sent photos of Butch wearing a red dress, makeup, and a wig to the police. So they put a stake on his car.”
“Wait a minute. What do you mean they put a steak on his car?” I asked.
Berto stepped in. “She means they put a stakeout on him after they got the pictures. A few nights ago, a patrolman caught him speeding down Lakeshore. When the policeman attempted to stop him, Butch tried to outrun him, but his pickup stalled. So he got out and tried to run, but since he’s still on crutches, he didn’t get far.”
Carmen pooched her lips out. “You’re leaving out the best part. Tell her.”
Berto looked embarrassed. “You go ahead, sweetie. You tell this part.”
Carmen bounced up and down in her chair, and her hands made wild gestures as she spoke. “He was wearing this tight tank top, a min
iskirt, and earrings! And when he tried to get away from the policeman, one of his false boobies fell out. When he reached down to pick it up, the policeman grabbed him. You won’t believe what Butch told him. He said he was on his way home from a costume party.”
“Must have been some party,” Nick said, and everyone laughed.
I took a closer look at the newspaper. “So he’s in trouble for evading arrest?”
When Nick stood up and propped a foot on the hearth, my eyes riveted on his long, lean body. “More than that. After he left the hospital, several women on his floor began reporting missing underwear. One woman said she woke up and saw a man going through her drawers—the built-in kind. When she yelled at him, he apologized. Said he’d mistaken her room for his. Later, when the police showed her Butch’s picture, she identified him.”
Carmen leaned over my shoulder and slapped at Butch’s picture. “Doesn’t he make enough money to buy his own undies?”
I laughed. “Policemen don’t make much money, but I think part of the thrill for him must be stealing them.” I couldn’t bring myself to add, “and smelling them.”
Carmen huffed. “He’s one sick doggy.”
“Puppy,” I corrected.
Babe reached for the newspaper and examined the picture. “How could I have ever—?”
Nick put his arm around her shoulders and gave her a hug. “Don’t beat yourself up over it. That was all a long time ago.”
“There’s more,” Berto said. “The police got a warrant to search his apartment. Guess what they found? Hundreds of pairs of women’s panties in baggies, labeled with the names of the women who owned them.”
My jaw dropped. “Oh my gosh. Who would have dreamed he was that organized?”
Babe took another look at Butch’s picture and grimaced. “The police also have evidence he’s responsible for some unsolved break-ins.”
I smiled to myself. Plan B had worked better than I’d anticipated.
Carmen began bouncing excitedly again. “He’ll have to wear an ankle bracelet until he goes to court, so they’ll know where he is at all times. I hope they throw the boot at him.”