Free Play Dead by Leslie O'Kane

red-brown
hair in frustration.
    “Sage, come,” I called. Sage immediately
stopped his barking and came toward me. “Sit.” He did so, and I gave him a
biscuit.
    “Isn’t your giving him a dog biscuit
rewarding his behavior?” Beth asked, a tinge of resentment in her voice.
    “No, because I’m rewarding the dog for
obeying my ‘come’ and ‘sit’ commands. Dogs don’t have the cause-and-effect
rationale we humans do. They only understand reward or punishment for their current behavior, not for what they were doing even as recently as two seconds ago.”
She glanced at the doorway, where Russell still had not reappeared. “Wait here,
please. I’ve got to go see what my poor officemate wants.”
    I rushed outside and found a very
flustered Russell Greene sitting in his car in the parking space next to mine.
He looked so forlorn, sunk down in his seat, that I felt a pang of tenderness
toward him. I bent to eye level and said through his open window, “Hi,
kimosabi. Sorry about that.”
    “Dogs hate me,” he muttered.
    “Dogs just don’t universally hate a
particular person. Unless maybe he’s wearing Odor de Cat cologne.” I thought
for a moment. Sage hadn’t barked at him at all when Beth had first brought the
dog over. That could be because Sage was the one entering last time, or that
Russell had startled him this time. It could also have been something else
entirely. “Aren’t you about to head out to the Buffs’ basketball game?”
    He nodded. “That’s why I came by. I called
your house, and your roommate said you were working. I wanted to find out if
you’d seen my note and the spare ticket. I thought I’d ask you in person to
come with me.”
    He got out of his car and stood next to
me. His grin was motivated, I was sure, by the fact that I was now wearing
sneakers, so he could show off his full six inches of height advantage.
    A cool breeze was starting to blow. “As it
turns out, I’m with a collie client,” I said, having to hold my wispy
light-brown hair out of my eyes.
    “A vicious one, if you ask me.”
    “Only some of the time.”
    “I heard about Sage’s personality quirk on
your radio gig. It’s not like I’m wearing a raincoat, or anything, unless he
considers this sports jacket a threat. Maybe it’s my tie he doesn’t like. Maybe
it reminds him of a choke collar.”
    I grinned a little as I looked at Russell’s
red silk tie. Who would put on a tie to go to a basketball game? He was going
to be the only fan in the arena wearing one. He’d probably be mistaken for an
usher. “Maybe it’s your hat. Would you be willing to help me for a moment?”
    “Depends. Does this have anything to do
with going back inside your office and facing that rabid dog?”
    “Yes, but you can stay right next to the
open door and duck out if he goes into attack mode again.”
    He paused, considering the matter, his
dark eyes searching mine. “You know, Allida, that’s asking a lot. The most
adversity I thought I’d face today was you turning me down for yet another
date.” He paused and smoothed his mustache. “How long will this take?”
    “Not even two minutes.”
    “And can I bolt out the door without you
thinking I’m a dog-hating wimp?”
    “Sure.” I already knew he was a dog
disliker, if not hater, but that didn’t make him a wimp in my
book—just not romantic material.
    “And will you go to the game with me
afterwards?” He wiggled his eyebrows at me so mischievously that I had to
laugh.
    “You drive a hard bargain, Russell, but
yes.”
    “That’s worth a pound of flesh. Let’s go.”
He started to lead the way, but I grabbed his arm.
    “I want you to take off your hat first. If
Beth is right, it’s either your hat or your jacket that’s making Sage bark at
you.”
    “I’d rather lose the jacket. The hat makes
me look taller.”
    “The jacket makes your shoulders look
broad,” I said, feeling a little guilty for being so manipulative, but I really
wanted to