Blame It On The Dog. Amy Frazier
the compound?” The barking had yet to stop. “Distress, fear, aggression can run through a pack like wildfire. You set off the spitz. He set off the rest. Even in a stable pack if an alarm is sounded, if members are unsure, they often lash out instinctively. Hurt before getting hurt. The dogs could hurt each other. Or their handlers. One false move, and I could have hurt the spitz.”
“You were hurting him!” Shaking, Drew was close to tears.
“No. It was a natural struggle for dominance. For that dog to live with my pack—for him to live—he can’t be the pack leader. Not in his aggressive state. There’s no question he’d eventually kill another member of the pack. He needs to submit to me as leader. Then there’s no jockeying with the dogs. Then he can co-exist with the others. That’s how it works in the dog world.”
“You’re making that up!” Drew spit back, unrepentant. “You’re nothing but a bully, but you’re not the boss of me! And I’m not letting you near my dog!” Before Selena could react, her son ran from the trailer.
When she attempted to follow, Quinn grasped her wrist. “Andy will take care of him.”
Through the window she could see the assistant already with Drew, leading him along the outer walkway to the waiting area at the front of the compound.
“Do you think I was bullying the dog?” he asked, genuine concern showing in his dark eyes, making his chiseled features appear, if not softer, then at least less granite like.
She shook off his hand that still encircled her wrist. “No, I don’t think you were bullying him.” Although at this particular moment, with her son so upset, it was a hard admission for her to make. “Andy explained it’s a very difficult case…but that you wouldn’t hurt him.”
“I’ll help you with Axel. From what I saw, he won’t require the technique you just observed. But you have to deal with Drew’s issues as well.”
“My son’s issues?”
“He didn’t just react. He overreacted. And the use of the word bully…maybe he feels picked on at school or in the neighborhood. Is that the case?”
“No!” At least she didn’t think so. Besides, it wasn’t any of this guy’s business.
“Learning to be a good pack leader to Axel might make Drew feel more self-assured.”
“Now you’re saying my son’s not sel-fassured?”
“I know the age. I’ve been there myself. One foot in boyhood, one in adulthood. Not sure where you belong. Not sure whether you can live up to the macho expectations of your peers and pop culture. I’m saying something set your son off just now. It might be wise to find out what.”
Selena felt her maternal hackles rising. “Look, buddy, you might think of yourself as Dog Yoda—though I’m not convinced I even want to put my dog under your control—but keep your pet psychobabble away from us humans. Nobody tells me how to raise my kid.” In a self-righteous huff, she stormed out of the trailer in search of her son.
Jack watched her go, not so much surprised at her outburst, but at his own reaction to it. He should be angry at the challenge to his expertise. Or, at the very least, turned off by her arrogant behavior. He wasn’t.
The smart course of action would be to write the Milanos off. He rubbed the back of his neck in frustration as he realized the opportunity to follow that very sensible path had passed. In his tumbling thoughts only one thing was clear. Now that he’d met her, it was impossible to disregard, dismiss or forget a woman like Selena.
CHAPTER THREE
SUNDAY MORNING, Selena stood outside Drew’s closed bedroom door about to make yet another attempt at talking with her son. Yesterday when they’d come home, he’d given her the silent treatment. All afternoon and evening. He’d even refused a visit to Margo’s Bistro, and, with his adolescent hollow leg, he never passed up a chance to eat one of Margo’s magnificent creations. This morning he hadn’t come out of his room. And, although she’d told Quinn to butt out of her business, she couldn’t stop thinking about his words, couldn’t help worrying there might be some truth to them.
“Drew, may I come in?”
When silence met her request, she cracked the door in case her son wore headphones and hadn’t heard her. He lay across his bed, drawing, a cereal box tipped precariously on the edge of the nightstand, headphones nowhere in sight. Axel, ignoring his dog bed on the floor, lay across Drew’s pillows, four enormous paws in the air.
She took a step into the room. “I’d like to talk to you.”
“About what?”
“Anything you want.” Sitting on the corner of the bed, she noticed an Axel-like superdog, complete with cape, dominated her son’s drawing. Action-hero Axel vanquished a legion of robots who all bore a remarkable resemblance to Jack Quinn.
“I don’t want to talk about anything,” Drew said.
“Not even yesterday?”
He shook his head.
“What about school? We’ve been so busy lately we haven’t had a chance to catch up. Anything I should know?”
He gave her a scathing look, one that told her in no uncertain terms he saw right through her nosy ploy, but he refused to answer.
Okay. About now, she could use some advice from her friends with kids on finessing words out of a reluctant twelve-year-old. Without that advice, she’d have to resort to her usual, not always successful candor. “When you walk Axel alone…does anyone give you a hard time?”
“You think?” Over his shoulder Drew glanced at his dog taking up most of the bed.
Even asleep, snoring peacefully, the beast looked like…well, a beast. Knowing what he was like in motion, Selena honestly doubted anyone messed with Drew in Axel’s company. But something was bugging her kid.
Where did the child who shared everything with her go?
The doorbell rang, waking Axel. It was probably Maxine. They were supposed to work on logistics for the SFSU installation. Maybe in a grandmotherly role, Maxine could get something out of Drew. When Selena got up, so did Axel, who knocked the box of cereal on the floor, spilling its contents amidst the other preteen disorder.
The doorbell rang again, sending the dog into paroxysms of barking on his way to the door.
“I’m coming, I’m coming!” She pushed Axel out of the way. “If you’d remembered your key, we wouldn’t have to go through—”
She opened the door not to Maxine, but to Jack Quinn.
As Axel barked and reared up on his hind feet, Quinn took a half step forward. Chest high, broad shoulders back, with a lock of dark hair falling over one eye, he looked more than a little intimidating. Axel must have felt the same because, amazingly, he stopped barking, put all fours on the ground and turned to leave. Quinn didn’t let him. Before either Selena or Axel knew what was happening, the man reached out and secured the dog’s collar, placed a firm hand on his rump, then put him in a sitting position. When Axel attempted to stand, Quinn merely put out his hand and uttered a quick, quiet, but commanding, “Hut!” Axel stayed. Moreover, his look went from stunned to adoring.
“How did you do that?” Selena asked, rather stunned herself.
“I’ve been trying to tell you it’s not rocket science.” He held out a DVD. “Maybe if Drew looked at this—”
“I’m willing to talk, but not in the apartment.” She looked over her shoulder to see if Drew had come out of his room. In his present state of mind, who knew how he’d react to Quinn’s unexpected visit? She took the DVD, put it on top of the tall bookshelf next to the door where Axel couldn’t get it, then pushed Quinn out onto the landing. She followed, shutting the door behind her.
Axel, on the