Dog Helps Those (Golden Retriever Mysteries) Read Online Free Page B

not?”
    “And as soon as you walk in the door, you’re all over him, right?”
    “I guess so,” I said.
    “See, what you’re telling Rochester is that he’s in charge. Rita says that in a pack of dogs, the alpha eats first. So I make Rascal wait for his dinner until I’m done eating.”
    “That’s mean. Doesn’t he just sit and stare at you?”
    “So? He does that even when I’m not eating.”
    We walked up to the split-rail fence again. Matthew and his border collie Calum were standing at the gate, waiting for a heavyset man with an unlit cigar in his mouth to finish his run with his German Shepherd.
    Matthew said, “Don’t mind what Rita said about your dog. She has no filter. You should have seen my dog Calum when we first started training here.”
    I nodded. “I noticed your Eastern tattoo. I went there too.”
    “I was on the crew team. Senior year we decided to get tattooed together. Stupid idea, but it’s kept us close. We meet up at every reunion.”
    The German shepherd finished his run, and Matthew and Calum stepped into the ring. I was impressed with the rapport between them; all Matthew had to do was click his tongue and point, and the collie knew exactly what to do. Calum, like Rascal, didn’t sit on the platform long enough, and Rita had some sharp words for him. Then Carissa took Tia Juana, her Chihuahua, out for a perfect run.
    When they finished, Carissa walked over to where we were standing with Matthew, and Rita followed. Rita got down to the dog’s level, scratching her behind her ears and purring. “Good breeding shows, doesn’t it, my pretty?”
    “Tia Juana was bred right here,” Carissa said. “Her dam and sire are both champions.”
    “How nice,” I said. Rochester was a rescue dog, twice over. Caroline had brought him home from a shelter without knowledge of his parentage, and then he had come to live with me.
    Carissa picked up Tia Juana and said, “We must go, Rita. Thank you so much. And I will talk to you this week about those mutual funds you suggested.”
    As she turned to go, a beat-up Japanese sedan pulled up in the driveway and a shaggy-haired young man got out. It took me a minute to recognize him as Felae, my former student, whose artwork Rita hadn’t appreciated the night before.
    “You are terrible woman!” he shouted, striding toward Rita. “You want to remove my scholarship? How dare you?”
    Rita’s mouth opened but she didn’t say anything.
    Rascal and Rochester both began barking, followed by at least a half-dozen other dogs from around the yard. I tugged on Rochester’s leash and said, “Hush, dog.” Then I looked up. “What’s the matter, Felae?”
    He turned from facing Rita to me. “Do I know you?”
    It was hard talking over all the barking and yapping. I waited until Rick had Rascal quiet, and Carissa had petted Tia Juana into submission.
     “Yes, Felae, you do,” I said, my exasperation showing. How could he not remember me when I’d been his teacher for a whole semester? “My name is Steve Levitan, and I taught you in the mystery fiction class last spring. And I saw you last night at the art exhibit.”
    “Oh, yes. Then you know how awful this woman is!”
    He turned and shook his fist at her. “I kill you! Right here! With many witnesses!”
    Rita pulled a tiny stun gun from the pocket of her skinny jeans. “Come near me and I’ll zap you into kingdom come, you little foreign bastard.”
    The dogs all started barking again. Rick handed me Rascal’s leash and stepped forward. “Now, now. Nobody’s killing or zapping anyone.” He showed his badge to Felae. “I think you should leave, buddy. And forget about making any more crazy threats.”
    I kept yanking on both dogs’ leashes and telling them to be quiet, without much success.
    “She try to ruin my life!” Felae yelled. “I hear this morning from college president. She want to have my painting destroyed, my scholarship cancelled. What is next, horrible old woman?