Trained to Protect

by Linda O. Johnston

  For now, to placate her, he said, “Do you want the usual, Officer Murran? My treat.”

  “Yes, thanks, Officer Murran,” she responded, a droll look in her eyes. But telling Griffin to sit, she walked off to pick up a couple more chairs.

  While he, Hooper at his side, went to order their regular black coffees and mixed-fruit muffins.

  Doug was glad to see that the chair remaining empty after he picked up their drinks and food was next to Elissa’s. He first set Maisie’s stuff on the table in front of her, then took his seat. “Sit, Hooper,” he said, and of course his well-behaved, obedient—and smart—shepherd listened.

  “He’s lovely,” Elissa said. “Is it okay to pet him?”

  “Sure, in this kind of situation, when we’re not on duty.” He couldn’t help grinning when he saw Hooper ease his head up to meet the gentle scratching that Elissa leveled on him behind his tall ears. Too bad he wasn’t getting the same kind of treatment.

  But good thing they were in a social setting here. If Elissa happened to be a civilian involved in some manner in one of their cases, no way could he even consider being attracted to her.

  That was how it should be. It had additionally been drummed into both Maisie and him by their wonderful uncle Cy, who was also a cop.

  “Like Doug said, we can’t stay long,” Maisie said before Doug had decided how to start a conversation. “But I’ve always had an interest in the possibility of having Griffin trained as a therapy dog for when he’s too old to work as a K-9. He’s a wonderful K-9, and he’s been known to bring down a lot of bad guys, but he loves people, too.”

  “Well, if things work out and Elissa becomes our new therapy dog trainer,” Amber said, “you’re more than welcome to participate in one of her classes. No charge, either. You and your dogs have come through for me plenty in the past.”

  Doug shot a glance toward Elissa. Would she balk at the possibility of some students who didn’t pay? He’d heard that therapy dog handlers were mostly just volunteers anyway, but Elissa was here interviewing for a job. Of course, she’d probably still get paid by Amber, who had often demonstrated what a good citizen and training supervisor she was during her fairly short career in that position here.

  “Really?” Elissa said. “How?”

  “I’ll tell you all about it if things work out between us,” Amber said.

  “That gives me an even better reason to do a really good job at tomorrow’s demonstration.” Elissa’s smile, first at Maisie and then at him, caused a slow sizzle to build inside him. That was emphasized even more when Elissa said to Amber, “Will the demo be just to you, or will others be present?” She shot a quick glance toward Doug that then landed on Maisie. To his surprise, he had a real urge to be at the K-9 Ranch tomorrow. Too bad he figured it wouldn’t work out.

  “Oh, my mother and some of my staff might be there, too,” Amber replied.

  “One in particular ought to be there,” Doug added somewhat slyly. “How about your head trainer Evan?”

  He knew of their mutual attraction and half expected her to blush a bit, or to attempt to stick a bland expression on her face, but instead Amber’s grin widened. “Oh, absolutely,” she said. Then she looked at Elissa. “He joined us recently after some really great demonstrations. And now he’s continued to prove himself to be both a wonderful K-9 and pet dog trainer. He’s our head trainer at the ranch, our only trainer right now, actually, though we’re looking for others.”

  “Does he train therapy or service dogs or their handlers, too?” Elissa asked.

  “No, although my dad, who was his predecessor, did a little work with therapy dogs.” Amber’s face looked sad for a moment, but she shook her head then smiled a little. “That’s why we need you for the therapy angle,” Amber continued. “Assuming, of course, that all goes well.”

  “Of course,” Elissa said.

  If Amber hired Elissa, Doug figured she would give her a quick rundown about the Chance K-9 Ranch’s background—probably including how Amber’s dad had been murdered in a then-unsolved case, and how Amber had come home to keep the ranch going for her mother and herself, without knowing anything about dog training.

  She’d held tryouts, and Evan had won.

  And she and Evan had managed to figure out together who’d killed Corbin Belott...

  “I gather that you two won’t be there to watch my demonstration,” Elissa continued, “which is a shame. My pet and therapy dog Peace is also a golden.” She reached over to caress Griffin’s head, and Maisie’s dog wagged his tail vigorously as he leaned toward the woman petting him.

  “It is a shame.” Maisie did appear sorry. “But you’ll see Griffin and me again, to watch if and when you start your classes at the ranch. You can count on that.”

  “I will.”

  Doug noted that Elissa again aimed a brief gaze toward him, then looked once more at the dog whose head she stroked. If she was silently inquiring if he’d be around to observe future therapy classes, too, he would have thought his response would have been an unqualified no.

  Before.

  Now, he wasn’t so sure.

  But heck. It was time for Maisie and him to go. Sure, he found this new acquaintance charming and sexy and definitely of interest for the future—but she had yet to be hired and he might never see her again.

  Too bad.

  Well, hopefully she would land that job at the K-9 Ranch. There’d at least be a possibility of seeing her again then, though not as his or his dog’s trainer.

  He rose then. “Nice meeting you, Elissa.” He offered his hand for a polite and noncommittal shake. When she grasped it firmly in hers, he had to resist pulling her close for a goodbye kiss.

  Ridiculous. His mind was taunting him as if he was a sex-starved teenager.

  As Maisie, too, said her goodbyes to Elissa and Amber, he nodded at the K-9 Ranch owner, then told Hooper, on his leash, to heel.

  And couldn’t help, at the coffee shop door, turning back and looking once more toward Elissa. Who was looking at him, too.

  He nodded then turned.

  It would probably be a good thing if she didn’t land that job at the K-9 Ranch.

  He wasn’t ready for a new woman in his life. Probably wouldn’t be for a long time, no matter how attractive he found someone.

  But the thought of not seeing her again?

  “Hey, bro,” Maisie said as they and their dogs stepped out onto the sidewalk outside the coffee shop. “What’s with your attitude toward that pretty dog trainer? You after some time alone with her?”

  “Hey, you know me, sis. I’m always looking, sometimes scoring, and that’s all fine with me.”

  “Well, just be careful.” Maisie aimed her hazel-eyed gaze, so like his own, up at him as both dogs sat at their sides. “I’ve got a feeling that you’ll be the loser, with the lowest score, in any game you play with that one.”

  Chapter 2

  Elissa drove her black SUV down the narrow forest-surrounded mountain roads and reached the 101 Freeway on her way home fairly quickly. The traffic was moving well. If it continued like this, she would be home in fifteen minutes.

  Although she’d put the radio on, the current music she preferred didn’t keep her mind off her earlier meeting.

  Or off the K-9 police officers—particularly one.

  Well, so what if she’d had a momentary attraction to handsome Officer Doug Murran? And so what if she admired that he worked with a highly trained dog to protect people and catch bad guys? She had other things to think about.

  She had caught up with a slow-moving big rig. Putting on her turn signal and checking carefully for other cars around her, she passed it.

  And forced her mind back onto what she’d been thinking about earlier, when she had started her drive down the mountain. What she needed to think about.

  Her demonst
ration tomorrow.

  She’d talked a bit more about it with Amber, who was incredibly nice and knowledgeable. The kind of person Elissa could see herself working for and loving it.

  Plus, she was wise. She’d known that new therapy dog handlers were usually volunteers who received free training from experienced handlers. She had therefore obtained a grant from a charitable organization focused on helping people in need to help pay for the more comprehensive lessons she would provide, starting from the basics. As a result, she had funds toward the salary of whoever she hired as a part-time instructor—hopefully Elissa—so the student handlers in training would only be asked to pay a token amount. Not that Elissa would get rich, either, but that was fine.

  And Amber had also mentioned that she was writing a book on dog training with her chief trainer Evan Colluro. She wasn’t sure when it would be done or how she’d get it published, but she wanted to include a chapter on therapy dogs and their handlers, so that would be another fun thing Elissa might get involved with.

  Regarding tomorrow’s demo, Amber had told her there would be other people present who would act as if they were in a hospital environment and could potentially be helped by a therapy dog. That would be fine with Elissa. It would allow her to show off what she, and Peace, could do and teach.

  And if she was hired, she would need to learn more about the local hospital as well as long-term-care centers, schools for special-needs children and other similar facilities around Chance where therapy dogs and their handlers would be welcome. She needed to know where she could take her students to show them how it worked and, when they and their dogs were trained well enough, to make use of what they learned.

  Would that include Officer Maisie Murran? Elissa hoped so—both because she liked the woman and what she did, and because Maisie had indicated she’d like to participate, or at least watch.

  Too bad her brother hadn’t seemed interested.

  Enough. Elissa had to erase Doug from her thoughts. She had only just met the guy. He might actually be the kind of person she would detest or despise.

  Although she doubted it. How could a dog aficionado like him be so terrible...?

  Good. She saw the sign for her exit in San Luis Obispo. It was about time.

  A few minutes later she drove along the nearest major road toward her house. She soon pulled off onto her street and drove up the driveway to the small, aging stucco house she had rented. She’d found it almost immediately after she had moved here and, though she had some problems with its electrical system sometimes, she had remained, considering it home. Her landlord was nice, though slow to respond to her requests, and so far he hadn’t raised the rent too much—so far being the operative words. He’d been hinting lately that a substantial increase would be imposed soon.

  Elissa pushed the button to open the garage door and waited while it creaked upward till it stopped. She drove her SUV in, picked up her purse from the passenger seat and opened her door.

  And expected to hear Peace’s cheerful barks welcoming her home. That was what the sweet girl always did.

  But not now.

  Immediately, Elissa began to worry. Was Peace there? Was she okay?

  Was Elissa worrying for nothing? After all, the poor dog could just be in a deep sleep at the far side of the house and not heard her.

  But Elissa wanted to find out for herself. She pushed the button on the wall to close the garage door and used her key to unlock the windowed entry door beside it. She couldn’t see into the kitchen because of the taut draperies on the inside of the door that she’d installed for privacy and security.

  She hurried through the door into the cramped and outdated kitchen. Peace barked and leaped toward her on the dingy linoleum floor, then crouched and looked at Elissa. No longer barking, she began circling the kitchen. Its door into the house was shut, which was unusual, but Elissa sometimes closed it with Peace inside. She must have done so this morning.

  That didn’t explain Peace’s actions. What was going on? This was all entirely uncharacteristic of her sweet and sociable dog.

  “Peace, are you okay?” There were times she wished she could hold conversations with her lovable pup and this was one of them. Instead of stopping and sitting and acting normal, Peace sprinted out of the kitchen the moment Elissa opened the door.

  Throwing her small purse down on the kitchen table, Elissa hurried to follow. Peace wasn’t really a puppy, but nearly three years old. She was smart. She was fast. And Elissa felt exceptionally close to her thanks to their therapy work.

  Right now Peace was popping into each room of the house as she reached it down the center hallway: the living room, the bathroom, the guest bedroom and then the master bedroom. She sometimes sniffed the floor, sometimes kept her nose on the ground, all the time appearing as if she was tracking something—and tracking wasn’t one of the many skills she’d learned to become a therapy dog.

  “Peace,” Elissa kept saying softly, rubbing her dog’s soft, furry back each time she got close enough. “What is it?”

  Eventually, whether because of exhaustion or running out of places to explore, Peace stopped dashing around. She wound up in the living room, on the polished wood floor, next to the tan sofa on its deep-colored wooden frame. The colorations went well with Peace’s golden coat—usually. Right now, the way Peace was panting, all Elissa could do was worry about her.

  She knelt on the floor beside her dog, bending to hug her tightly. “Are you okay, girl? What’s wrong?”

  Of course Peace didn’t answer.

  Or maybe she did. She put her head up and licked Elissa’s cheek.

  Hopefully that meant she was all right now.

  Elissa wasn’t sure. And she would do everything she could to take the best care of her beloved dog.

  * * *

  It was early morning. Elissa was back in her SUV, driving up the mountain once more toward the Chance K-9 Ranch. This time she wasn’t alone. Peace was tethered safely in the back seat.

  The sweet dog was quiet. Finally resting. Sleeping at last.

  Elissa hadn’t gone to bed for a while the previous night, still trying to understand her poor pup’s continued restlessness.

  She’d taken Peace for a walk but only a short one, since her moderate-size dog pulled on her leash a lot, despite being told to heel and to stay—something else that wasn’t characteristic of her.

  Back inside the house Peace had again moved from room to room, as if seeking something. The source of some scent that only she, and not her concerned owner, was aware of?

  That’s what Elissa had guessed. And of course that worried her.

  So neither of them had slept well. Each time Elissa had woken, which was often, she’d heard Peace stirring on her fluffy bed on the floor beside Elissa’s.

  Elissa used that as her reason to get up even earlier than she’d originally planned to walk Peace once more. The quiet residential area had seemed normal to her, with a few well-recognized neighbors outside, some also walking their dogs.

  Peace had seemed somewhat calmer but still did more pulling than was usual for her.

  Returning back inside, Elissa had showered, changed into the outfit she’d planned to wear for her demonstration, then fed them both a quick breakfast and gotten on the road.

  And made herself concentrate on how she would perform her demonstration—or, rather, the best way to encourage Peace to show off how wonderful a therapy dog she was.

  It was early enough that traffic wasn’t heavy, although, as always in this sometimes busy southern California area, she wasn’t the only one on the road, either. She stayed just above the speed limit, though now and then another car had passed her on the freeway—less so on the narrower mountain roads.

  Finally she reached the turnoff toward Chance. She decided to take a quick drive through downtown, past the local hospital.

 
As she slowed, Peace awakened and sat up. “Good girl,” Elissa said, glancing in the rearview mirror. “Are you okay now?”

  Peace was quiet and calm, and appeared like her usual self. Elissa took that to mean a positive response.

  She soon stopped at a traffic light and turned onto the street that would take her past the hospital. When she’d looked it up on the internet and gotten the address, she had seen that there was an entire floor devoted to pediatric patients, and another area dedicated to seniors—both age groups that were excellent focuses for therapy dogs.

  If all went well and Peace and she were hired, she would definitely introduce herself to the hospital administration and offer to do some demonstrations there soon.

  The streets downtown seemed a bit crowded that morning but she had no problem navigating her way to the road to the Chance K-9 Ranch. She checked the time display on her dashboard.

  “Looks perfect, Peace,” she said and headed along the road.

  She wondered then if Officer Maisie Murran would find a way to visit the demonstration even briefly despite her indication yesterday that she couldn’t.

  And her brother? He was even less likely to attend.

  The road narrowed even more and Elissa kept an eye out for signs indicating addresses. As soon as she passed a large property labeled Chance Resort, she saw a signpost at the next driveway for the Chance K-9 Ranch.

  They had arrived.

  The ranch property was surrounded by a large plank fence that probably wouldn’t keep anyone out but perhaps helped to keep dogs inside. The gate was open. Elissa drove through it and up the driveway. She saw other vehicles parked at the top of the rise near what unsurprisingly seemed to be a ranch house—one story high and extending for a substantial distance.

  “Let’s go,” she told Peace after parking beside another SUV, a big black one that appeared to be an official police vehicle, with a light on top. Was one of the K-9 officers there after all? Or was it another cop?

  Elissa exited through the driver’s door, then opened the one behind it to let Peace out after snapping on her leash. When she turned, she was happy to see Amber exiting the house, holding the leash of a black Labrador retriever. A tall man came out after her, also leading a leashed dog, a German shepherd—Evan, the head dog trainer, whom Elissa recognized from the demonstration videos on the ranch’s website. With them was an older woman Elissa figured must be Amber’s mother. Sonya Belott. No surprises there.