another unsuccessful romp around the yard, Cassie bent over and rested her hands on her knees, drinking in deep drags of air as she tried to catch her breath. When a reddish-gold curl fell across her face, she sent a frustrated puff upward, blowing the curl out of her eyes. It was then that she noticed the gaping hole by the side of the high wooden privacy fence that surrounded the backyard.
His eyes locked with Cassie’s for a brief moment, and as if the culprit could read her mind, he immediately darted in the direction of his escape hole.
“Come back here, you coward,” Cassie screamed, but the sound of the security cruiser’s siren screaming toward the house forced her to temporarily abandon the chase.
Shaking her fist at the black-and-white terrier who had now distanced himself at the far end of the yard, Cassie actually thought she saw the little criminal grinning back at her through his sharp, pointed, doggy-type teeth. Knowing that the chase was pointless without help from her neighborhood troubleshooters, Cassie stomped to the front foyer where a concerned security officer was already pounding his fist on the door.
“Are you hurt, Miss Collins? Did the goon lay a hand on you?” demanded the older of the two officers as he lumbered into the foyer with his weapon drawn.
Annoyed at the sight of the revolver, Cassie frowned at the two rent-a-cops who were affectionately known as “Andy and Barney” in her luxurious neighborhood. “I don’t want you to shoot him, Joe. I just want you to help me catch the rascal.”
“I’ll go first,” the portly officer announced, then sent an official look toward his baby-faced partner, who was anxiously turning the knobs on his handheld police radio.
“Should I call Asheville PD for backup now, Joe?” the rookie asked in a voice that was still struggling with puberty.
“No!” both Cassie and Officer Joe shouted simultaneously.
Pushing past both officers, Cassie took the lead and stomped back through the house with her nervous defenders following closely at her heels. As soon as they reached the wicker-filled sunroom at the back of the house, she pointed through the doorway to the furry assailant the officers had come to arrest.
“There he is,” she said, fuming. “The filthy little beast dug his way under the privacy fence and assaulted Duchess before I even knew what was happening.”
Both officers followed Cassie’s gaze through the door to the terrier, who immediately cocked his head in their direction and showed them the same silly doggy grin Cassie had seen earlier. And then as if to mock her, the mutt wagged his stubby tail, obviously pleased by what he’d been able to accomplish before help arrived.
“You said rapist, Miss Collins,” Joe scolded as he shoved his revolver back into its holster and sent Cassie a stern look.
Cassie glared back. “I’m in no mood for a lecture about a minor technicality, Joe,” Cassie warned. “You know as well as I do, you guys wouldn’t have rushed right over here if I’d called to report a stray dog in my yard.”
Neither of the officers denied Cassie’s accusation, but both men continued to stare at her as if she were some alien life-form who had purposely been sent to invade their peaceful domain. And Cassie really couldn’t blame them. They were used to seeing the calm, collected, professional Miss Collins going to and from her respected law firm every day, not some wild-eyed maniac whose hair was still in a lopsided ponytail from her shower, and who had grabbed the first thing she found in her bureau when she glanced out her bedroom window and saw the lewd tango that was being conducted across her lawn.
“Look, Joe,” Cassie said, trying to appease the man. “You of all people know how difficult it is to deal with my mother.”
When the officer paled at the mere mention of such a trying experience, Cassie pointed to the tiny white bichon frise, who was now scampering across the yard to join forces with the enemy. “Well, I’m warning you. No one in this entire neighborhood will be safe when Lenora Collins finds out her famous show dog crossed paws with the first stray mutt who came along. She’ll blame me for not watching Duchess more closely. And she’ll blame you for allowing some nasty mutt to roam free through the neighborhood.”
Joe’s heavily browed eyes immediately grew wide with concern. Sending a quick glance over his shoulder, he absently patted his holster as if he might need the gun for his own protection. “But y-your m-mother is still in Europe, isn’t she, Miss Collins?” Joe stammered.
“Yes, but I can’t keep Lenora in Europe forever, Joe,” Cassie said, and sighed. “And if we don’t get that mutt out of here before he does any more damage, we’ll all be buying tickets to Europe to save our own lives.”
Joe dragged a meaty hand over his face, then pointed to the woo-some twosome who were currently engaged in what appeared to be another premating ritual. “You mean that little white dog out there is the one who just won all those awards in New York City?”
Cassie nodded, glaring at the poodle-looking paramour whom she’d vowed to protect and keep safe in her mother’s absence. The little witch was her mother’s pride and joy, but now that the current diva of the dog world had succumbed to the charms of a mutt whose only credentials seemed to be an overdose of testosterone and an attitude, Cassie suspected those dog-food and pet endorsements her mother planned to glean from winning Westminster would disappear faster than a pack of antacids at a federal tax audit.
“Man, I don’t blame you for being upset, Miss Collins, but—”
“Oh, I zoomed way past upset when I found them doing an intimate bunny-hop across the backyard,” Cassie interrupted. “Now, are you guys going to help me catch the mutt before they engage in another close encounter of the fur kind, or aren’t you?”
Both men seemed a bit embarrassed by her graphic outburst, but the Barney Fife lookalike finally stepped forward to take up the challenge. “I’ll help you catch him, Miss Collins. I’ve always been good with dogs.”
Cassie held her breath as the lanky officer left the sunroom and strolled across the yard in the perpetrator’s direction. To Cassie’s surprise, instead of leading the officer on another exhausting game of hide-and-seek through the trees, the scruffy little scamp inched toward him and sniffed at the man’s outstretched hand. In a flash, the officer snatched the mutt up. Mission accomplished, he returned to Cassie’s side with the little bandit tucked safely under his arm.
“Peanuts always work,” he said proudly, sending Cassie a wink. “I always keep loose peanuts in my pocket for between-meal snacks.”
Cassie shuddered at the sight of the lint-covered peanuts the mutt was happily munching from the officer’s hand, then looked around the yard for the other half of the dissolute duo. Obviously sated by the wild display of carnal acrobatics Cassie had witnessed earlier, the little floozy trotted obediently toward the house in search of her lover. Cassie grabbed the pampered pooch and marched Miss Duchess into the sun-room. When Cassie placed Duchess in her traveling crate and fastened the latch, the shameless hussy actually had the nerve to look annoyed.
When Cassie joined the officers back on the patio, she smiled and said, “Thanks, guys. Now you need to help me find this mutt’s owner. And when you do, I want you to make an immediate arrest for violating the neighborhood leash law.”
Both men exchanged nervous looks. Joe actually laughed. “Hey, you’re not really serious about making an arrest over this, are you, Miss Collins?”
Cassie frowned, but let
