by V. M. Burns
Dixie split the class into two groups, small dogs and large dogs. She then had us take the small dogs off leash and allowed the dogs to play. Aggie and the West Highland Terrier were roughly the same size and quickly engaged in a game of chase. After a few moments, the Westie’s owner and I were instructed to call our dogs. Needless to say, neither of the dogs wanted to leave their play, and both ignored us; we were instructed to approach the dogs, attach their leashes, and pull them away. She then did the same thing with the big dog group and got the same result. Unfortunately, attaching the leashes to the big dogs proved a lot more challenging than it had for the small dogs. Max, the German shepherd, used his fast gait to play keep away from Egghead, who got more and more frustrated. Eventually, he managed to corner Max and attached the leash. Frustrated, he lifted his hand to strike the dog but was stopped when Dixie grabbed his hand.
“We never hit our dogs.”
From the way Max cowered, it wasn’t the first time he’d felt Egghead’s wrath.
“Don’t tell me you’re one of those bleeding-heart liberals who don’t believe in spanking your kids either?”
Dixie maintained her composure, but her voice left no uncertainty as to her meaning. “Actually, I was never blessed with children, so I don’t really have a position on whether or not a parent should spank their children. However, the difference is that this dog doesn’t speak the same language as you and me. He doesn’t know what you want him to do. Beating a dog who doesn’t obey your command is like beating someone from another country who doesn’t speak English. Besides, you never want your dog to fear you. Your dog should respect you but never be afraid of you, because then he will never want to come to you.” She released Egghead’s arm.
She turned back to face the entire class. “I’m sure some of you were wondering about my request that you bring treats that your dog will sell his soul for.” She looked at the nods around the room. “Here’s why. Our dogs don’t speak the same language that you and I do. However, they want to learn. So, if we give them an extra-special treat that they love, then regardless of how excited they are to play, they will eagerly come running to you to get that treat.” She turned back to Egghead. “Let’s try again.” She asked a tall thin woman with long brown hair and a rambunctious black dog with a white spot on his chest, to release the dog, who was named Jac. Max and Jac immediately began to play. After a few minutes, she took a treat out of her pouch and put it in front of Max’s nose. “Max, come.” Max immediately turned away from his playmate. Dixie took several steps backward to Egghead. When he was there, she instructed Egghead to attach the leash. Once the leash was attached, she gave the dog the treat and tons of praise.
“We want Max to associate you with good things, like hot dogs and cheese. So when you call, regardless of what he’s doing, he will gladly give that up to be with you. He needs to always want to come to you, the first time you call.”
Egghead looked at his dog as he sat by his side.
“Now, pet him and tell him what a good boy he is.”
Egghead petted and scratched behind the German shepherd’s ear.
Max leaned into his hand and eventually turned and gave it a lick. Egghead cracked the first real smile I’d seen from him.
The African American woman raised her hand. “Why is it so important that they come the very first time you call?” She looked at her dog. “Snowball is pretty good about coming when I call her most times, but sometimes I have to repeat myself.”
“If your dog is about to run into the street in front of traffic, you don’t have time to repeat yourself multiple times. Or, let’s say your dog is about to eat something you know is poisonous like antifreeze. You need your dog to obey your commands the first time. It can save his life.”
“Lord have mercy. I never thought about that,” she said.
Egghead mumbled, “I live on the corner of a busy street. Cars plow through there all the time.” He stared at Max.
Dixie saved the last ten minutes of class for Joe and Turbo’s presentation, while she went toward the office area.
Joe did a lot of presentations for schools and was good at talking in front of groups. He explained how acute a dog’s sense of smell was. He talked about the various scents Turbo had been trained to detect, then said, “I asked Dixie to hide.” He took Dixie’s jacket and put it to the dog’s nose. Then he released Turbo and gave him the command to find. Turbo sniffed around the room and followed the path Dixie had taken. Eventually, he moved near the bleachers and sat.
“Sitting is how he indicates he’s got something.” He secured the dog’s harness and lifted the bottom of the bleachers.
Dixie rolled out from her hiding place.
The group applauded, and Turbo was rewarded with his treat.
Dixie stood and dusted herself off. “Well, that’s enough for tonight. I want all of you to practice getting your dogs to come when called and to sit. Next week, we’ll work on down and heel.” Before we left, she passed out flyers about the East Tennessee Dog Club and the upcoming events. The club had an obedience show coming up, and she encouraged everyone to stop by and observe. Aggie and I were already planning to join the dog club, but it would be nice to have other novices join who were as green as we were.
Egghead spent ten minutes in conversation with Dixie after class. Eventually, he left, and Dixie locked up. I still wasn’t prepared to drive up Lookout Mountain, so we agreed to go in the RV. However, Joe felt he wanted to give it a try. So Aggie and I rode in the RV, and Joe and Stephanie followed us with their two dogs. Dixie took the twists and turns a lot slower since she knew she was being followed; however, I made the mistake of looking out at the view, which was a complete drop-off, and nearly lost my lunch. I rode the rest of the way with my head back, eyes closed, and hands clutching the door’s armrest. I think Dixie talked, but I wasn’t paying attention.
When she pulled into the driveway, she turned off the engine. “It’s okay. You can open your eyes now.”
“Praise God almighty!”
She laughed. “It wasn’t that bad.” She turned to look as Joe pulled up behind her. “See, Joe made it just fine.”
It took several deep breaths before I was able to release the seat belt and get out of the car. My legs felt wobbly. I looked at Stephanie and felt comforted by seeing I wasn’t the only one who looked a little green.
She stumbled out of the car. “Now I understand what you were talking about.”
Joe shook his head. “That was definitely an experience.” He wiped the sweat off his head. “I can understand why you didn’t want to make the drive.”
Dixie’s husband, Beau, walked up and smacked Joe on the back. “Welcome.” He held out a bottle of beer. “You look like you could use this.” He laughed and smacked Joe again.
“Thank you.” Joe took the bottle but didn’t drink it.
Beau stepped up to Stephanie and gave her a friendly bear hug before moving on. He was a large man, well over six feet. He wore his hair short and always seemed to have a smile. He had been the star quarterback on his high school and college football teams. An injury in college left him with a large scar over his knee and a limp when the weather was damp. After college, he started a tech company and made tons of money.
He moved to help Dixie remove some equipment from the back of the RV.
I moved closer to Joe. “Do you think you can drive down? If not, we can get Dixie to drive us. Beau will follow and bring her back.”
He shook his head. “No. I can do it.” He handed Stephanie his beer. “However, I think I’ll skip the alcohol. I need to keep my wits about me.”
“Good idea.” Stephanie took a swig.
Joe smiled. “I didn’t think you liked beer.”
She took another drink. “I hate beer, but I need something to steady my nerves.”
Once you got to the top of Lookout Mountain, the view
s were spectacular. The surrounding landscape was relatively flat, and you didn’t feel as though you were perched atop a peak. Beau and Dixie lived in a three-bedroom, four-bath Frank Lloyd Wright–inspired home that was over three thousand square feet. It had a brick and stone exterior. From the road, the house looked modest and unassuming. However, when you entered, the spectacular views and luxurious design really hit you. Stephanie and I followed Dixie inside, while Beau and Joe lingered outside.
Stephanie gasped. In addition to the mahogany and travertine floors and the granite counters, the back of the house was a wall of windows that overlooked the city of Chattanooga, the Tennessee River, and the surrounding mountain ranges. There were two levels, and each had a stone deck with breathtaking views. The lower level had a heated dipping pool, and the home was impeccably designed to maximize the space, light, and million-dollar views.
On my first visit, I had been conscious of each move Aggie made. However, Beau and Dixie quickly put me at ease. Even though they lived in a lovely home, which I was sure would sell for millions, they were relaxed and comfortable.
“WOW!” Stephanie said in a reverential whisper, like most people used at church. “That’s the most amazing view.”
Dixie took her on a tour and explained that the house was a dump when they purchased it twenty years ago. “There was actually a tree that had grown inside the brick and through the roof.”
The home had been owned by an elderly couple. “There was hideous green shag carpet and velvet wallpaper in practically every room.” Dixie laughed. “Beau thought I’d lost my mind when I told him we could make it into our dream house.” She smiled.
“I love that you have two laundry rooms,” I said as Dixie took us to the lower level of the home.
“It’s very convenient. Initially, I thought two laundry rooms was a waste of money for two people. However, it’s really convenient with the dogs.”
Dixie had turned the second laundry area into a dog-grooming area. She had a large walk-in tub where she could bathe the dogs and a ramp that led up to her grooming table so she could easily prepare her dogs for shows without injuring her back lifting them onto grooming tables. The lower-level deck curved around and provided easy access to the side of the house, where she parked the RV. We found the men outside on the deck. Beau had an outdoor kitchen that was twice the size of the one in my home in Lighthouse Dunes. There were four large televisions on the wall, which he had on and turned to a football game. He was tending to a grill, where several whole chickens were impaled on a long spit. Joe lounged in a chair on the deck while three poodles, a golden, and a Plott hound lay on the floor chewing on all-natural, gourmet dog treats designed to look like marrow-filled bones—large bones for the bigger dogs and a small, toy poodle–sized bone for Aggie, which demonstrated Dixie’s thoughtfulness to think of Aggie.
The aroma from the grill made my mouth water.
“That smells incredible.” Stephanie’s stomach growled.
“It’ll be done in a few.” Beau laughed. “Grab some of those snacks and a glass of wine or another beer.”
By “snacks,” Beau meant a huge spread of fresh fruit salad, Caesar salad, iceberg salad, at least five different types of cheese on crackers, marinated vegetables, baked potatoes with toppings, and grilled bread. On another counter, there were cookies, pies, and cakes.
The weather was cool, but they had heat lamps and a firepit, which made the area warm and toasty.
We loaded our plates and sat to enjoy an evening of conversation and delicious food. I talked about my new job. Dixie and Beau were patrons of the museum and were acquainted with Linda Kay. As Chattanooga natives, they were, of course, familiar with the Hopewells.
“Everything was delicious. So what do you know about Freemont Hopewell?” I took a sip of wine and was thankful it was too dark for them to notice the heat rising to my cheeks.
“He’s a Hopewell.” Dixie sipped her wine and shrugged. “Thinks quite a bit of himself.”
“Rumored to be a bit of a playboy. Always shows up at local benefits and fund-raisers with some beautiful woman on his arm,” Beau said. “Last year, he was seen running around with that supermodel Linda Herold.”
“I thought she was dating that famous NFL quarterback,” Joe said.
“Yeah, Hopewell was last season.” Beau chuckled. “Ouch.”
Dixie smiled sweetly at her husband. “Oh dear, was that your knee?”
“Anybody recently?” I asked casually, but not casually enough to escape Dixie or Stephanie’s notice.
Beau stood up. “I think Joe and I need to make our exit before this conversation turns into one of those women’s flowery romance shows Dixie likes to watch. Or before I have to get a knee replacement.” Joe quickly gathered his drink, and they hightailed it inside and headed to the area Dixie described as Beau’s man cave, which included one of the largest televisions I’d ever seen inside a house, as well as a pool table, a bar, and a game table for poker.
“Mom, is there something you want to tell us?” Stephanie stared with one raised eyebrow.
“I don’t know what you mean?” I hedged.
“I think you know exactly what she means.” Dixie turned her seat so she was facing me directly.
“Now, what’s going on with Freemont Hopewell?”
Dixie and Stephanie leaned their faces on their hands and stared at me.
I hesitated but eventually caved in under their intense stares and giggled. “Well, I ran into him today on my way into work.” I quickly told them of the encounter, short as it was, and the flowers that had arrived.
“Flowers? You must have made quite an impression on Mr. Hopewell.” Dixie grinned.
I shrugged. “Maybe. He’s very handsome.” I hesitated. “I’m not sure if I’m ready for any type of relationship. Not that this is going to turn into anything. I mean, he may just be really nice and thought I seemed pathetic, and so he sent me flowers.”
“Mom, men don’t send flowers unless they like you.” Stephanie smiled. “So he at least likes you. I think it’s great. You should date. Have fun. Enjoy yourself.”
I laughed. “It’s been so long since I’ve dated, I don’t even remember how.”
“It’s like riding a bike.” Stephanie hugged me.
“I was never very good at that either.”
“I have to go downtown tomorrow for lunch with the Chattanooga Historic Society. Maybe I’ll swing by and see those flowers.”
We talked a little longer. I admired the city lights below until I remembered we still had to head back down the mountain. I was very concerned about Joe driving down the mountain, especially in the dark. However, I needn’t have bothered. Joe was a good driver and took his time. There were no streetlights and only light from the moon and the city lights from the valley to illuminate the way, but once he made it down the mountain, he was easily able to make the short distance to the main roads and then took the interstate home.
Joe pulled the car in front of the house and stopped.
I keep the button for the garage door on the visor. When he didn’t immediately push the button to open the garage door, I reached from the back between the seats and pointed toward the button.
Joe held up a hand. Something in his demeanor and the overall climate within the vehicle, which had moments earlier been friendly and warm as we talked about our evening, was now cold and foreboding.
All conversation stopped. Joe reached into a duffel bag under the seat and pulled out a gun.
“Stay here. Lock the doors,” he said in a steely voice that froze the words in my throat. He fixed his blue, laser-sharp gaze on Stephanie and then me. “Do not follow me. If I’m not out in five minutes, call nine-one-one.” He got out of the car and went to the back and opened the door for Turbo. In a flash, he put on the vest that instantly transformed Turbo from a house pet to a highly trained poli
ce dog.
Aggie growled and lunged at the door. She wanted to get out, but I clutched her to my chest. Surprisingly, the golden retriever seemed excited rather than anxious and looked on, tail wagging with an occasional whimper. Nevertheless, I held fast to his collar.
Gun raised, Joe and Turbo approached the front door, which I now noticed was open.
Chapter 10
I held my cell phone. At some point, I had grabbed Stephanie’s hand, which I noticed trembled slightly. I gave it a squeeze and tried not to notice how cold her hand felt. We sat in cold silence. Both Aggie and the golden sat at attention. All eyes were fixed on the front door. I glanced at my phone, noting the time. It felt like an hour, but only four minutes had passed. Then Turbo and Joe came out; Joe’s gun was lowered, and his shoulders were relaxed. Stephanie and I exhaled.
He opened the door. “The house was ransacked, but whoever did it is gone.”
“Do you want me to call the police?” I held out my phone.
“I already did.”
That was when we heard the sirens.
Officer Lewis was the first police officer to arrive.
Whoever broke in had apparently been looking for something. They had rummaged and ransacked the house. Drawers had been opened and dumped out.
I nearly collapsed when I saw the extent of the damage. Flour and sugar were dumped out. Dog-food bags were cut open and left all over the kitchen floor. Every drawer was opened, and my clothes were strewn all over. After all the work of getting moved in, someone had undone it in a matter of hours. I walked around, speechless, staring openmouthed at the damage. It was overwhelming, and I felt paralyzed, thinking about where to start. The dogs must have thought it was Christmas because Aggie, the golden, and Turbo, who was no longer wearing his vest and had returned to pet status, were gulping down dog food and sugar at record speed.
Joe and Stephanie put the dogs outside to prevent further binging. I flopped down on the sofa and stared.
