Free Play Dead by Leslie O'Kane Page A

test my theory while I had the chance.
    Russell grinned, his teeth white and even
below his dark mustache.
    “I’m going to go in first. Give me a few
seconds or so, then come in, paying no attention to the dog. And, just as
generic advice for the future, if a dog starts growling at you, try to stand
sideways to him. By a dog’s way of thinking, that’s the least confrontational
stance you can take.”
    “I would think running away as fast as my
two feet can take me would be as non-confrontational as it gets.”
    I laughed. “That’s true, but once you turn
your back on a dog, it instinctively gives chase.”
    “Ah. Wouldn’t want that,” Russell said,
rocking on his heels.
    I smiled and studied Russell’s face, which
was pale and slightly damp with perspiration. “You sure you want to go through
with this?”
    He nodded. “Are you sure you’ll
come with me to the game if I do?”
    “Absolutely. I get a kick out of
basketball, though I prefer playing to watching. I was the starting point guard
for my college team.”
    “You were?”
    His tone was so incredulous that I added, “Back
then I was six-one.” I headed inside, where Beth was pacing.
    “I was starting to wonder if you were
coming back. Is that guy all right?”
    “He’s fine. He’s going to try entering the
room again. I want to see how Sage reacts.”
    Moments later, Russell Greene, looking
very tense, appeared. He had taken very seriously my advice about a sideways
stance being less confrontational for dogs and climbed sideways down the cement
steps to the entrance. He opened the door, still completely sideways to us, and
sashayed into the room.
    Sage tensed a little and let out a couple
of short, moderate barks, but stayed seated.
    “Should I face you now?” Russell asked
timidly.
    “Yes.”
    Doppler, who was always friendly to just
about everybody, rushed up to greet Russell, who took a step back in fear.
    “N-nice doggie,” he said with all of the
confidence of someone at rock bottom of the food chain. Doppler continued to
wag his stubby tail.
    “Wow. That’s kind of weird,” Beth said. “I
don’t understand why Sage was barking before, but not now.”
    “I had Russell take his hat off. That may
not be what’s behind Sage’s reaction, but I wanted to test the theory.” I
cleared my throat, grinned, and said, “Russell?”
    He met my eyes, a panicked expression on
his face. He held up his palms. “Oh, no. I knew it! You’re going to ask me to
go out, put my hat on, and then come back in, aren’t you?”
    Trust an engineer to figure out the best
test procedure. I mustered my sweetest voice and asked, “Would you mind
terribly?”
    “All right. I’ll do it. But after I escape
from that big, vicious dog trying to eat me alive, I’ll meet you in my car. All
right?”
    “Thank you, Russ,” I said, embarrassed but
still determined to go through with the plan.
    “Is that your boyfriend?” Beth asked the
moment the door closed behind him.
    “No, he just shares this office space.”
    “Boy, does he ever have a crush on you,”
Beth said, shaking her head as she leaned back against my desk.
    “You think?”
    We waited in silence for what was an
inordinate amount of time for Russell simply to retrieve his hat and come back
down the steps. Sage and Doppler, in the meantime, lay down on the floor
back-to-back, nearest their respective owners.
    Finally, Russell reappeared, doing his best
to tiptoe sideways down the steps, his hat perched so lightly on the top of his
head that the least little breeze would whisk it away. He barely got the door
open a crack before Sage started barking wildly. Russell slammed the door and
raced up the stairs.
    “Weird,” Beth said, over the sounds of
Sage’s barking. Once again, Doppler started up too, his hackles raised in
excitement.
    I held up the box of dog treats to Beth. “Time
to try learning how to distract Sage from his barking.”
    She grabbed a dog bone and cried, “Come
here,