“Where’d he learn to do that anyway?” George asked as Sylvie commanded Chewie to get up, then sit.
“Alex taught me.” She couldn’t keep the sunshine out of her voice.
“Alex, huh? First-name basis now.”
“Oh, stop it.”
He chuckled as they took their seats. He handed Sylvie her usual sub, wrapped in white butcher paper. “I’m glad to see you in a good mood, Syl. I was afraid that with what’s going on with the HOA, you’d be sour today. They must have ruled in your favor.”
“Nope, just the opposite. Chewie’s out.” She unwrapped her sandwich.
George scowled. “That harpy. Look, Mom and I are happy to take Chewie in—”
Sylvie held up her hand. “Thanks, but Chewie’s one stray you don’t need to worry about. Alex already offered the Watchdog kennels and I took him up on it.”
George raised an eyebrow. “First, you were never a stray. Second, is that why you’re in such a good mood? Because you found a place for Chewie?”
Oh, she wasn’t about to fall into his trap. She knew it too well. “Why do you think I’m happy, Sarge?” She took a bite.
He showed her his palms. “I’m not one to speculate.”
“Oh, don’t BS me, speculation is your jam. What do you know about Alex?” She leaned forward. “I know you have your sources.” By sources, she meant Arden Volker, the daughter of George’s best friend, and the fiancée of Kyle McGuire who ran Watchdog.
“You know, I haven’t talked to little Ardie for a while. Cyn and I should have her and Kyle over.”
“Oh, so then you can grill her about Alex?”
George grinned. “You wanna come over, too?”
Sylvie laughed. “You’re terrible.”
George bit into his sub and chewed. Then he said, “Syl, I’m just glad to see you happy for a change. As far as Alex goes, I know he and Kyle go way back, and that Kyle trusts him with his life. I also know that Kyle’s good people. So, if my girl wants a date with Alex, that’s fine by me.” He leaned forward. “For now. But if he’s not good to you, we’ll have a different talk.”
“We’re not dating.” She felt her face flush. “We’re just going out to dinner tonight for the first time. To discuss Chewie,” she added, “so, it’s not even a real date.”
“But you hope it is.”
But I hope it is she couldn’t help thinking. She only shrugged a shoulder and tried to look impassive.
George nodded, satisfied, and sat back in his chair.
They ate in silence for a few minutes while Sylvie studied her dad. Something was bothering him, but he was covering it up well. She could tell by the way the wrinkles around his eyes stayed there—that little bit of tension he carried in his face always gave him away at poker, too.
“Anything you wanna talk about, Dad?” She hoped switching back to calling him that might open him up.
He snorted and waved her off. “It’s just work. I got word today that the city of Boulder’s sending extra patrols for the musical festival this year.”
Sylvie felt the tension grow in her forehead, speaking of poker tells. “Why? They know Watchdog’s providing extra security this year.” George had told her one of the big performers was married to a guy at Watchdog’s Los Angeles headquarters, so it made sense that they’d want to have a bigger presence at the festival just for her sake.
“Well, that’s what’s bothering me. I can’t get a decent explanation from Robert beyond ‘better safe than sorry.’”
“What? That doesn’t make any sense. Budget’s tighter this year.”
George turned thoughtful. “We gonna need extra, in your opinion?”
“Not especially. I mean, I’ve been focused on getting into the K9 unit so I can’t be sure, but I don’t think we’ve had more calls than usual, nothing that would warrant us being up here in greater numbers for a week. And besides, it’s never been a rowdy crowd. We do get people from all over the country though, and not all of them for the festival.” She didn’t have to add that the ‘extras’ were there to prey on the crowd and to sell drugs—the sergeant was well-aware of that. “But nothing Boulder County and Watchdog can’t handle without pulling in extra manpower from the city.”
“Yeah, it don’t make sense to me, either.” The lines around his eyes deepened.
“You want me to poke around the department? See if there’s a good reason?”
George studied her for a moment. “Naw. Maybe it’s just me bellyaching.”
Sylvie balled up the butcher paper and tossed it into the trash. “Speaking of Watchdog, I’ve got to get back up there.” They both stood up. “Tell Mom hi for me.”
“Stop by sometime and tell her hi yourself,” George admonished, but not harshly. He smiled when he said, “Maybe when we have Kyle and Arden over. You can bring a friend.”
Sylvie chuckled. “Nice try, Dad.”
“Have a good time on your not-a-date tonight.”
“Chewie, go bite him for me.”
“He wouldn’t dare bite the hand that feeds him.”
They both laughed and Sylvie kissed her dad goodbye.
Sylvie waved to the guy in the gatehouse marking the edge of Watchdog’s property and he waved her cruiser through. All right, put everything else out of your head Sylvie told herself.
Easier said than done.
She’d definitely need to fall back on her training today. Focus on Chewie and working with him, showing no cracks in her armor for her supervisor Stan to see. He had the final word as to whether she or Frank would make the team. She parked her car and saw that she was the last one back from lunch—Frank and Stan were already there. Not good.
“Let’s hustle, Chewie.”
Frank and Stan were talking to Alex while the dogs had free run of the field. When Alex saw her, he called Mac to him. Frank and Stan did the same with their dogs, Ty and Betty.
Alex and Mac faced the class of three dogs and three humans. “So, we’ve taught the dogs to identify and go after the smell of marijuana. Now we’re going to work on heroin.” He put on a pair of gloves then took a white towel out of a bag and Mac perked up. Like the other dogs, Mac thought a white towel was the best toy in the world for tug of war.
“We’re gonna do the same thing with this towel that we did for the marijuana training, only this time, it’s been treated with the smell of heroin. Can someone tell me how much stronger a dog’s sense of smell is than a human’s?”
“Fifty times stronger,” Sylvie said.
“Show off,” Frank said, but he was smiling.
“I know you both knew the answer, I was just testing your response time,” Alex joked. He crouched down to Mac’s level and held the towel out for him to smell. “Mac already knows the smell, but we’ll pretend he doesn’t. Stan, Ty knows too, right?”
“Absolutely, but it’s good to keep the training up.”
Alex nodded in acknowledgement. “Let your dog get a nice, good whiff, like this.” He let Mac smell the towel another minute. He stood back up and held one end out for Mac to grab, then played tug of war with him. “There’s a box of gloves and three more bags on the bench over there.”