it’s just because they like it. Sometimes because they’re bored. Regular play, exercise and attention can discourage digging, but not always. You’re not always going to be right on hand when that digging urge strikes. So, fill the holes.”
She got a moan out of several students.
“Yeah, it’s an irritating cycle initially. But a lot of young dogs will get discouraged when the hole they’ve dug keeps getting filled. What’s the point? Also offer alternatives to digging. Playtime, a walk, a chew toy. Distract. But because some will just, well, dig in, I advise you to put a few additives in the dirt you replace. Chili pepper’s a good deterrent, and so is dog poop. Seriously. Sometimes a dog digs to find a cool spot. If you have enough room you might designate some shady spot in the yard for him to dig and clear and hang out in when it’s hot.
“Last, those of you who have no plans to breed your dog and haven’t already made arrangements for spaying or neutering, it’s time.”
She didn’t lecture on the subject. Yet.
As her students began heading out, she strolled over to Simon. “I saw your face.”
“That’s because it’s right here, on the front of my head.”
“The look on your face when I mentioned neutering.” She gave him a poke. “He’ll still be a guy. Balls don’t make the man.”
“Easy for you to say, sister.”
“And what are you going to say the first time he catches a whiff of some sexy bitch in heat and runs off to bang her?”
“Score?”
She poked him again. “And following those instincts, he could get hit by a car on the road, get lost. Now, do you really want to add to the stray and/or unwanted dog population? The number of dogs put to sleep every year just so yours keeps his balls and scores?”
“He’s more into dead fish than sex.”
“For now. Responsibly neutering him will help his behavior. Odds are he’ll be somewhat calmer.”
“Most eunuchs are.”
“You force me to give you literature.” She picked up the ball Peck dropped at her feet, winged it. Then watched the car cruise down her drive. “They timed it.”
“Who?”
“I expect Davey let some people know about what happened. That’s Meg and Chuck Greene, from my unit. First class is over, and I don’t have another today until this afternoon. So here they are to see if I need company.”
She seemed touched rather than annoyed, and Simon took it as his cue to go. “I’ve got to take off.”
“Oh, don’t be rude. Wait two minutes so I can introduce you. You didn’t bring Quirk and Xena,” Fiona called out.
“We’re having a people day,” Meg called back.
They got out of opposite sides of the car, met in front of the hood and joined hands before they crossed over. Stopping, Simon noted, to greet the dogs.
“Who’s this handsome boy!”
Simon watched as Meg, a breezy-looking woman he pegged as late forties, stepped into Jaws’s excited leap.
It worked, he had to admit. They’d have to practice.
“That’s Jaws. Meg and Chuck Greene, this is Simon Doyle, Jaws’s human.”
“Simon!” Meg stuck out a hand, then grasped Simon’s in both of hers. “I bought a set of your stacked tables from Sylvia. I love them. I’ve been hoping to run into you.”
“Meg and Chuck live over in Deer Harbor. Chuck’s a retired cop, and Meg’s one of our lawyers. Simon was here when Davey came by,” Fiona added. “And I’m fine.”
“We needed to check the cabin,” Meg told her. “We’ve got somebody coming in over the weekend.”
“Uh-huh.” She didn’t buy that for a minute. “Meg and Chuck have a pretty cabin in Moran State Park they rent out.”
“Since we were so close, we just came by to see if we could talk you into meeting us for lunch. We thought we’d grab an early one at the Rosario.”
“Meg.”
“And we’re entitled to look after you.”
“Thanks, but I’m going to stick close to home today. You can pass that on to the next shift.”
“Where’s your cell phone?” Chuck asked her.
“Inside.”
“I want you to start carrying it with you.” The tap he gave her nose spoke of affection, and authority. “I don’t think you’ve got a thing to worry about, but use that common sense you’ve got so much of. Carry your phone.”
“All right.”
“Are you spending any nights here?” Chuck asked Simon.
“Chuck!”
“I’m not talking to you,” he said to Fiona.
“Not yet.”
“Wouldn’t hurt. You do custom work, don’t you?”
“Are you talking about sex or wood?”
There was a beat of silence before Chuck roared out his big laugh, then slapped Simon on the back. “Maybe we’ll talk sex over a beer sometime. On the wood, Meg’s been after a new china cabinet. Can’t find anything that suits her. This one’s too big, that one’s too small, the other one’s not the right wood. If she could tell you what the hell it is she wants and you make it, I’d stop hearing about it.”
“We can talk about that. You’d want to show me the space.”
“If you’ve got time this afternoon, after three.” Chuck reached in his wallet and pulled out a business card. “Home address is on there.”
“Okay. More like four.”
“That’ll work. Well, come on, Meg, let’s get this party started. You?” He pointed at Fiona, then kissed her cheek. “Put your phone in your pocket.”
“Yes, sir, Sergeant Greene.”
“You take care, Fee. We’ll see you this afternoon, Simon.”
They walked back to their car as they’d walked from it. Hand in hand.
“They’ve been married over thirty years, and they still hold hands,” Fiona murmured. “He was a cop for twenty-five, down in San Francisco.” She waved as they drove out. “They moved here about ten years ago, and he runs a tackle shop. He loves to fish. She does real estate and some family law.”
“Did they get married when she was twelve?”
“Oh, boy, she’d love that. She’s in her late fifties, he had his sixty-third birthday in January. And yeah, they both look easily ten years younger. I think it’s love and happiness. Or just lucky genes.”
She picked up the ball one of the dogs had dropped hopefully at her feet, threw it again. “I’m telling you because I always want to know about people, so I tend to give backgrounds, but also because it might help you with the design.” She tilted her head. “Since you’re so strict about it. Anyway, Chuck figures everybody can find every place on the island. I can give you directions.”
“I’ll find it.”
“All right. I’ve got to go clean my house, do some laundry and other exciting domestic chores before my afternoon session.”
“I’ll see you later, then.”
He called the dog, headed for his truck.
He didn’t kiss her good-bye, Fiona thought, and sighed a little, thinking of the Greenes holding hands.
He boosted the dog in, hesitated, then shut the truck door and strode back to her. He gripped her shoulders, drew her up and into a kiss that was hard and brief and satisfyingly hot.
“Put your phone in your pocket.”
When he went back to the truck, drove off without another word, she smiled after him.
