Free By the Book (A Gracie Andersen Mystery 2) by Laurinda Wallace Page A

Nine
     
    Terry carried her plate to the dishwasher. Gracie was washing out the pans at the sink.
    “Let me do those dishes,” Terry said. “Since you cooked tonight, it’s only fair.”
    “I hate washing dishes, so it works for me.” Gracie stepped away from the sink and handed Terry the dishrag. “Here you go.”
    There was a rap at the kitchen door. Terry turned to see Tom Clark peering through the frosty window. He opened the door and stomped the snow off his boots and onto the welcome mat.
    “Hey, ladies. Everybody staying warm?”
    “We are. I think the dogs are cold though. They’re back at the door already.” Gracie opened one side of the French doors that led to the patio and backyard. The three dogs burst through, Max in the lead. He suddenly stopped and bared his teeth, growling. His hackles were raised as he looked Tom straight in the eye. Haley and Sable stopped in their tracks.
    “Whoa there, Max,” Tom said with surprise. He began backing up toward kitchen counter.
    “Max, nein. Pfui!” Terry spoke sharply to the big dog and stepped in front of Tom.
    Max stopped growling and wagged his tail tentatively, watching Terry intently.
    “Max, platz!” Max immediately went down in front of his mistress. “I’m so sorry, Tom. I don’t know what got into him.” Terry’s face was pale with stains of color in each cheek. “Max, make friends with Tom again.”
    Max rose, wagging his tail, and came toward Terry and Tom. Terry rubbed the Shepherd’s slender muzzle, and Tom scratched the top of Max’s head a little gingerly. Gracie realized she’d been holding her breath and the door open. She quickly shut the door and sucked in a lungful of cold air.
    “So …” Gracie said slowly, “Max is Schutzhund trained?”
    “Yes.” Terry’s voice was low. “You know about Schutzhund?”
    “A little. I’ve been to a couple of matches. Is Sable?”
    “Not really,” Terry answered. “She washed out of a search and rescue program.
    It was definitely an awkward moment. Gracie wasn’t sure now about her decision to house Terry and her dogs. Max was a bona fide protection dog and he’d just gone a bit rogue though. She hadn’t seen this coming. The dogs had been mild-mannered and so well behaved. She could see that Terry was struggling with what to say next. Tom broke the silence.
    “I just surprised him, that’s all. We’re pals now, right, Max?” He stroked the Max’s head and gave him a pat on his shoulder. Max wagged his tail and laid his head on Tom’s thigh for an ear rub, and Tom obliged him. “We had some great bomb detection dogs in Afghanistan. They were—”
    “I’m sorry, Gracie. I … I didn’t think …” Terry’s face flushed with embarrassment.
    “I wish you’d told me, Terry. I mean, it’s kind of important to know what kind of dogs I have here. There are a lot of people in and out of the house and kennels every day, and I really need to trust my dogs.” Gracie was trying not to lose it, and fortunately Haley nudged her hand with a cold, wet nose to defuse the moment. Sable nonchalantly found the prime spot in front of the fire and began licking her feet. She seemed oblivious to the tension that filled the room. Haley joined her, and they shared the fleece bed in front of the fire. Max sat panting by Tom, his eyes fixed on Terry.
    “I know. I should have told you,” Terry said meekly. She turned back to the kitchen sink to finish the dishes.
    “So why do you have these high-powered dogs?” Tom sat down on the leather sofa.
    Gracie was glad her brother had jumped in with her next question. Terry was going to have to come up with answers now. Terry let the water out of the sink and wiped her hands on a blue hand towel.
    “It’s kind of a long story, and I was hoping it wouldn’t have to be told. I guess Max just opened the door, though.” She twisted the towel in her hands uneasily, looking into the fire that snapped brusquely behind Sable.
    “I guess he did.”