Shotgun Nanny

by Nancy Warren

  Usually there was some slight flaw that made the dog ineligible for the crack dog squad. Mark was here to find out just where this one had failed. And if the animal would be any help in keeping his wayward nanny on a leash.

  “What’s

  his

  name?”

  The uniformed officer who’d brought the dog out consulted a clipboard. “Kitsu.”

  At his name, the dog perked his ears even higher, but he never moved. Mark liked his discipline. Already he was getting a good feeling about this dog. Still, it wouldn’t do to be too hasty. “Why didn’t he make the cut?”

  The officer flicked through several pages on the chart. “You could call the regular trainer. He’s on shift again Tuesday. Kitsu got top marks for just about everything. But there’s a note at the bottom in handwriting. ‘Dog distracted on occasion.’ And a word I can’t read. Looks like ‘squiggle.”’

  With a shrug, the officer handed the clipboard to Mark, who flipped through it. The dog was clearly intelligent and had taken well to basic training. He was noted as being outstanding in scent training. He could be a first-class tracker, or maybe a bomb or a drug sniffer. Obstacle course, apprehension, all good. His lowest mark was in obedience training, although he still scored pretty high.

  Mark had no idea what “squiggle” meant. But he wasn’t looking for a dog who could sniff out drugs, only one who could guard two wayward females. His ferociouslooking presence would be a deterrent to potential troublemakers.

  “Mind if I put him through a few paces?”

  “Be my guest.”

  Mark approached slowly, letting Kitsu get used to him. He clipped a leash to the collar and stood to the right of the dog. “Heel,” he commanded, and began walking. The dog followed, sticking close to his left heel, keeping perfect pace with Mark.

  On and off the leash, the dog was perfectly obedient. Stop, sit, stay, come—Kitsu followed each command immediately and thoroughly.

  At the end of the session, the dog gazed at Mark expectantly, tail wagging and sharp brown eyes never leaving his face.

  “He looks like he’s trying to tell me something.”

  “He wants his treat. Here.” The trainer tossed a dog cookie Mark’s way, and Kitsu’s tail wagged harder. Still, he waited until Mark offered him the bone-shaped biscuit before delicately taking it with those sharp teeth and then crunching it.

  The session over, Mark allowed himself a few minutes to pat the dog. “Good boy.”

  Already he could feel some of the tension leaving his shoulders as he thought about this dog watching over Annie and Emily. Annie was clearly too much of a flake to take the protection part of her duties seriously. He’d spent a big part of a sleepless night thinking about getting someone else. But every time he reached the decision to hire another nanny, he remembered the way she was with Emily.

  In the fun-and-games department she couldn’t be beat. Emily was acting more carefree than she had in a year. And, he had to admit, he enjoyed having a clown around the house. He never knew what she’d say or do next. She was fun, funny and sweet. This morning, she’d not only managed to get out of bed on time, she’d made pancakes for Emily and then decorated them to look like cartoon characters.

  She’d cooked him one in the shape of a Mountie.

  And she’d done it all while wearing some kind of tight skimpy top that definitely didn’t have a bra underneath and a pair of shorts that showed off her slender long legs and her belly ring.

  He’d almost choked on that Mountie.

  Oh, he liked having Annie around, all right. And he knew she was good for his niece in many ways. If he could just assign a deputy to ensure their safety, he could quit worrying. Maybe Kitsu was the perfect answer.

  “Think you can look after my girls?” Mark asked his new guard dog.

  The intelligent eyes gazed at him, and Kitsu uttered a short, sharp sound, something between a yap and a yowl.

  “I’ll take that as a yes.”

  Giving the dog one last rub on the head, he turned to the stand-in trainer. “I’ll take him.”

  “ANNIE, LOOK.” Emily’s voice was full of excitement.

  Annie had never heard her so animated. She ran to the front of the house where the door was wide open for once and halted at the sight of Emily and Mark, both staring at a dog.

  She leaned against the doorway, watching as Emily slowly approached the animal. Mark spoke softly in the voice he used exclusively for his niece.

  The child glanced to where Annie stood, and her smile was brighter than the sun.

  “I always wanted a dog.”

  Annie felt her smile grow as she watched the trio on the lawn.

  Dog? Her goofy smile started to stiffen. Was that rigid canine shape really a dog or was it a garden statue? It sure didn’t act like any dog she’d ever seen. Where was the barking? Jumping? Licking? The running around wildly that she always associated with puppies? Because if the German shepherd wasn’t a puppy, he sure wasn’t far from it.

  “How old is he?”

  “Ten months,” Mark replied.

  “He’s kind of quiet.”

  “He’s just shy. Aren’t you, boy?” Emily spoke with confidence as she approached the animal. His eyes were alive, and his ears perked up, but if he wasn’t carved from stone, he was doing a darn good imitation of it.

  Mark’s voice continued, and Annie was almost certain he was giving some kind of instructions. Like how to plug the thing in or activate it in case of burglary.

  Emily reached out and stroked the dog’s head, and a quiver ran from its nose down its back. But still it remained sitting, watching Mark. Impulsively, Emily threw her arms around the dog and hugged its neck.

  “No Em. You shouldn’t do that.” Mark’s voice sharpened.

  “Why not?” The smile faded in an instant. “Isn’t he ours to keep? Oh, please say we can keep him, Uncle Mark. I always, always wanted a dog, but Mom said no because we traveled so much. I promise I’ll feed him and walk him every day and—”

  “Yes. We can keep him.” Mark dropped to his haunches, and Annie walked over to join the group on the lawn. “But he’s a very special kind of dog. He’s a trained guard dog.”

  A groan escaped her lips before she could suppress it. Emily wanted a pet, and he bought an attack dog. “Great, just great.”

  Mark glared at her, then turned his attention to his niece. “His name’s Kitsu.”

  Emily laughed. “He knows his name. Did you see the way his ears moved?”

  “That’s one rambunctious puppy you’ve got there,” Annie said softly so only Mark would hear.

  The jingle of keys got Mark’s attention. “What are you doing?”

  She widened her eyes. “I’m pushing the green button to make him bark.”

  Mark snatched the key chain away. “He’s a real dog. Quit ruining Emily’s fun.”

  “You wouldn’t know fun if it bit you in the—”

  “Annie! I admit I got him to protect Emily. And you. The way you go through life worries me. So he can be a pet and a guard dog. What’s the big deal?”

  “You just don’t get it.” Emily wanted a dog she could play catch with, run around the yard with, whisper her secrets to and sneak up to her room to sprawl on her bed, muddy paws and all. She didn’t want a dog that was like Mark only with pointy ears and a tail.

  She gave the dog a reluctant pat on the head and announced she was going in to finish preparing lunch. As she entered the house she overheard Mark telling Emily how smart Kitsu was. “He can walk, sit, heel, lie down and stay.”

  “Sounds like a barrel of laughs,” she muttered as she stomped to the kitchen.

  “CAN WE TAKE Kitsu with us to the park after lunch?” Emily asked Annie.

  That dog, if that’s what it really was, was giving her the willies, sitting on the kitchen floor and staring at them while they ate. “I don’t think—”

  “It’s a great idea,” Mark interrupted. He caught her gaze and shot her on
e of those I’ll-talk-to-you-about-this-later looks.

  “He won’t fit in my car,” she complained.

  “You can use my vehicle.” His tone told her he didn’t want to hear any more excuses, so she pursed her lips and forked her salad.

  “Can you come, too, Uncle Mark?”

  “Sorry, Em. I have to work.”

  “But it’s Saturday.”

  “I know it is. But I’ve got a lot to do getting ready for the big conference. You have fun without me.”

  Ha. Annie grumbled the entire time she packed a dinner picnic and changed her clothes. She couldn’t believe she’d been manipulated into taking a police dog to a picnic. And that was after she’d been conned into working on a Saturday when she was supposed to have weekends off. Not that she had anything better to do, as it turned out. And he was paying her time and a half. But still, it was the principle of the thing.

  “Well, we’re off for an afternoon of human and canine frolicking,” she announced to Mark in a syrupy voice as they were leaving the house.

  He took the picnic basket out of her arms and hefted it toward his truck while he shot her a sideways look. “That’s what you’re wearing for a day at the park?”

  She glanced down. Her paisley-printed Capri pants were zipped. Her purple crop top was clean. Her purple sandals with the big plastic daisies were on the correct feet.

  “What’s wrong with it?”

  “There’s so much skin showing.” He dropped his voice. “And I can see you’re not wearing a, um…” His gaze fastened on her chest.

  “A bra, Mark. It’s called a bra. I hardly ever wear them. Too restricting.”

  “It’s a good thing I got that dog to protect you,” he grumbled, forcing his gaze straight ahead.

  “From who? You? You’re the one who can’t keep his eyes to himself.”

  The picnic basket landed in the back of his SUV with a thump, and she knew the flush on his face wasn’t from exertion. At a single sharp gesture from him, the statue dog came to life and launched itself into the vehicle.

  She lifted her sun hat and slipped on dark glasses while he closed and locked the rear door.

  He held the keys out almost reluctantly and, as they dropped into her hand, she stuck her chest out as far as a 32B with attitude would go. “Any more orders?”

  He took a single step forward. It brought his chest to within almost touching distance of hers. Just a whisper away from contact, she felt the heat coming off him. Smelled the clean laundry and all-male scent of him. How could he infuriate and excite her at the same time? It just wasn’t fair.

  “Just one. Don’t forget your poop and scoop bags.”

  7

  HOW ON EARTH had she gone from being a professional children’s entertainer to being a professional poop scooper?

  If she had any sense at all, she’d be in Asia. Maybe she’d practice her Japanese on Kitsu and totally confuse him.

  Once they reached the park, Annie’s annoyance began to lift. It was a beautiful sunny day, and children, lovers and families with real dogs played Frisbee, lounged on blankets and were having fun. The smell of barbecuing meat wafted in the air, and the sound of laughter drifted to her ears.

  Annie found a spot near the middle of the huge field and laid out her red and white striped picnic blanket. Emily stood, holding the leash, and Kitsu halted obediently beside her.

  “Help me unpack, then we can play some ball.”

  “Can I let go of the leash?” Emily asked in a doubtful tone.

  Annie glanced at the motionless dog. “Yeah. I doubt if dynamite would move that dog without a command. Sit, Kitsu,” she said in what she hoped was a commanding tone. The dog seemed to consider her for a few minutes, head cocked, before reluctantly complying and sitting rigidly, eyes on the alert, nose sniffing the air.

  “Kitsu’s so smart,” Emily gushed. “He knows Uncle Mark’s his master.”

  Annie had a suspicion the child was right. Just to be certain he’d obey, she took the leash and draped it over her wrist while she dug into her pack for the ball.

  Emily meanwhile had opened the picnic basket. “Yum. Fried chicken.” The rustling of cellophane informed Annie that her charge had already found the after-dinner treat. “And jujubes!”

  “Those are for after dinner, Em.”

  “Can I have just one now? Please?”

  “Well. Okay. Just one. I know that ball’s in here somewhere,” she grumbled. A shrill yap made her jump. Her bag tumbled to the blanket.

  She was just in time to see the well-trained statue dog undergo the most amazing transformation into some kind of uber-beast. Instinctively she gripped the leash tighter as she watched those powerful legs crouch and prepare to launch the dog into motion.

  “Kitsu, no!” she shouted even as the dog catapulted into action.

  She felt her arm tugged practically out of its socket as she was yanked forward by an animal who was all muscle and speed.

  “Stop, Kitsu! Heel!” Emily yelled from behind her while Annie brought her other hand around and tried to haul on the leash.

  “’Scuse me,” she panted as she found herself dragged across a neighboring blanket and stumbling over a couple in a romantic clinch.

  Dimly she wondered if the dog had sniffed out drugs or illegal weapons or whatever it was he’d been trained to sniff out.

  “Heel!” She leaped over a ghetto blaster like an Olympic hurdler.

  “Stay!” She ducked to avoid a Frisbee to the head.

  “Sit! Roll over! Play dead!” Nothing slowed the galloping stride of the most powerful dog she’d ever seen in deadly pursuit of what or whom she couldn’t see.

  Did the police dog have to pick now to go on duty? Didn’t he know he’d flunked out of police dog school? Whatever he was racing toward, she didn’t want her young charge involved. “Em,” she called breathlessly over her shoulder, “stay back.”

  If she hadn’t glanced at Emily, following as fast as her much shorter legs would go, she might have seen the hedge.

  “Look out!” Em screamed.

  Too late. Laurel leaves and branches whacked her shins. With no breath left to yell at the infernal dog, she hung on grimly to that leash, grimacing in pain as he hauled her through the hedge. One of the perky plastic daisies in her sandal caught, and with a painful wrench she felt the shoe yanked off her foot.

  “I’m going to kill you,” she panted, so winded her threat came noiselessly from a parched throat. Another field, complete with a crowded children’s playground, met her gaze, and desperately she tightened her sweaty hold on the leash.

  What was the dog after?

  There were no drug dealers or desperate criminal-looking types in her range of vision. In fact, all she could see was one wildly scampering squirrel.

  The poor little thing looked like it was running for its life.

  It couldn’t be.

  But it was. Even as the furry little creature veered wildly to the left, the crazed dog followed, closing in on that flapping bushy gray tail.

  She wasn’t sure which was worse, to be dragged into a drug ring or to witness the slaughter of an innocent woodland creature. The innocent woodland creature had a certain amount of native cunning, however, and headed straight for the crowded playground.

  Limping and hopping from bare foot to flapping sandal, Annie screamed a warning. And suddenly, she was dodging swinging swings, dragged under a climbing apparatus and yanked through the sandbox. She had to give the dog some credit—he’d managed to carve a path between all the children. But still, as she sailed out of the playground, a glob of gum sticking to her foot, the sounds of screaming kids and yelling parents pursued her.

  Beyond the dog’s heaving flanks, the squirrel dashed madly for a stand of trees. Kitsu lowered his muzzle, and she saw that only inches separated those bared teeth from his quarry.

  With the last of her strength she tried to put on the brakes, digging one naked heel and the back of one flimsy sandal into the patchy
grass.

  For her trouble, she was toppled onto her knees and dragged forward. But she had managed to give the squirrel enough time to scamper up the trunk of a huge Douglas fir.

  She may have thought the chase was over, but Kitsu had other ideas. Around and around the tree trunk he dragged her, a dog possessed. Barking and jumping, teeth snapping toward where, high in the branches, the squirrel began a high-pitched chattering.

  Annie glanced up and was hit on the forehead with a well-aimed acorn. The squirrel seemed to have an arsenal of various missiles. Down rained acorns, peanuts, walnuts, a popcorn kernel.