Chapter 1

Brooke

“Sit.”

My newest trainee, Beau, just stares at me with giant black eyes before bolting down the hall. The adorable pug has big-time cooperation issues along with debilitating separation anxiety that’s been known to compel him to chew through table legs. Every time I call out an obedience command, he runs for the door and lets out an ear-piercing, high-pitched yelp.

I love what I do, but the sun’s just now peeking over the horizon to greet the day when all I want to do is go back to bed and pull the covers over my head. I throw my shoulders back and soldier on. Working with dogs every day is my dream job, without question. I can handle a little frustration.

But as I stand there with Beau’s pitiful yelps ringing around the room, a familiar throbbing starts in my temples. Shit, not a migraine on top of everything else. “How about a little break?” I suggest. Beau’s answer involves a yelp so loud anyone outside must think I’m torturing him.

I toss a homemade dog bone from Chuck & Don’s on the floor. A little spoiling can fix just about any attitude challenge. I can tell by the way Beau gobbles it up that he appreciates every morsel of the fresh-baked treat. After a few more rounds of the canine chorus, I enjoy a much-needed moment of silence. I take a sip of water from my bottle, and my headache fades. When a bell chimes at the front door, I snap my head up in irritation until I recognize the familiar face.

“Howdy, bestie.” I grace Pam with my morning smile, which happens to be more like a tugging of lips until I’ve had at least one cup of coffee.

Pamela Jesperson is one of the hottest chicks in Prior Lake, with long chestnut hair and hypnotic green eyes. Many a man in a bar on Main Street has taken the walk of shame back to his buddies when she shoots him down like a fighter jet over the Bermuda Triangle. Worse yet, she has absolutely no idea that she’s drop-dead gorg. Some women seem to get it all, and my college roomie has beauty, brains, and personality in spades.

I glance around the training center with pride and a touch of awe. This tiny lake community reeks of class and money, and things aren’t exactly cheap around these parts. The accessibility and perfection of this location won me over. When the opportunity to rent a place on Dakota Street presented itself, I didn’t hesitate. The only reason I could afford the rent was because the elderly owner didn’t keep up the property. It boasted a huge great room ideal for training and an acre yard with a six-foot privacy fence that kept barking to a minimum. No need to piss off my neighbors.

Not discouraged by the house’s original lack of aesthetics, Pam and I went to the hardware store and stocked up on paint, drywall, and supplies. After devoting a week to several DIY projects, the place looked great. We threw a K-9 themed grand opening and even managed to get a story published in the Prior Lake American. That was four years ago, and we’ve been going strong ever since.

“Here you go,” Pam says, handing me a Starbucks soy caramel macchiato.

“Thanks.” I wrap my hands around the warm cup and take a long sip. “Yum. Did Kim make this at the Target café?”

Pam wiggles her eyebrows. “Of course. She’s the best.”

I take another long sip of caffeine heaven, my eyes closed in bliss. It doesn’t take much to make me happy. “Thank you. I couldn’t ask for a more awesome best friend in the world.”

Her full lips tug upward as she takes a dainty sip of her skinny vanilla latte before kneeling to pet Beau. “Hey there, handsome.” She glances up at me with a question on her face. “How’s the training going so far today?”

“Could be better.” I sigh and carefully watch the pitiful little pug. “He’s really missing his owner. When I recommended daycare with training for him, I thought that keeping him occupied would help him forgo some of his separation behaviors.”

She rubs his back and speaks in a doggie voice, “You wouldn’t give Brooke a hard time, would ya?” Beau sighs in pleasure and leans into her scratches.

“He may be cute, but he’s going to be a project. I wish the owners would seek help sooner because the longer dogs indulge in negative behaviors, the harder they are to break.”

Pam laughs, and I know I’m preaching to the choir. She purses her lips at Beau, blowing the toy dog a kiss. He just stares back in pleasure at all the attention. “My mom always warned me that the hottest guys cause the most trouble.”

“Your mom is a wise woman. I guess that applies to men and dogs.”

She snorts. “Is there a difference?”

I’m saved from a reply when the business landline peals out a ring, and I hurry across the room and pick it up. “Bark Buddies Training, Brooke speaking, how may I help you today?”

“Hi, I’m looking for a good purebred Chihuahua,” a woman says. “Since you’re the best-known dog trainer in Scott County, I thought you might know of some reputable breeders I could contact.”

“I’d be happy to help you with that.” I chew my bottom lip, thinking hard. The truth is, I have no clue how to help her. I know of folks who breed everything from Great Danes to Pekinese. But Chihuahuas? No way. Still, one of the most important things I know about success in business involves helping your customers even if you don’t have an immediate solution. In a tight-knit bedroom community like Prior Lake, word of mouth reigns supreme.

“Great.” I can hear the relief in her voice. “I’d really appreciate the help. My granddaughter is obsessed with those Taco Bell commercials. We’ve tried to talk her into adopting a dog from the Last Hope Animal Rescue, but ever since she learned to say the word Chihuahua, she’s talked of nothing else. I’m afraid it’s a Chihuahua or nothing.”

“I’ll have to consult my contact list, and I’m in the middle of a training session right now. How about I take down your name and phone number, and I’ll follow up with you?” I reach for a pen and jot down her information.

After I hang up, I rack my brain, searching for anything that might allow me to help this nice lady and her granddaughter. When kids get something in their mind, they’re hard to dissuade. I hope I can come up with something, so she doesn’t tell the entire town I let her down.

Pam glances over at me. “What was that about?”

“A new customer wants a purebred Chihuahua, and I’m kind of at a loss for ideas of where to find one.”

Her eyes light up. “That’s an easy one. Remember that old woman, Mrs. Barrett? She used to live in that big house on the waterfront? You know the one? People swear to God it’s haunted.”

A vague memory comes and goes through my mind, but I can’t bring the image forth fully. “What does she have to do with Chihuahuas?”

“She used to breed them.”

As Pam talks, a light bulb goes off in my brain. I remember an elderly lady with a Chihuahua in her purse getting bread at Edelweiss, but I’ve never seen her house, haunted or otherwise. “I think I do remember that lady. She was such a sweetheart.”

“Yeah, her dogs were champions. One even won the Toy Group at Westminster back in the eighties. But unfortunately, she passed away.”

I watch Beau forage for crumbs on the hand-scraped floor. “That’s so sad.”

Pam sits down on the floor and tempts Beau over to her for more pets. “I know, she really loved those dogs.”

“Where are they now?”

“As far as I know, some long-lost relative has taken over the operation. When he first moved to town, no one ever saw him. It fueled all those rumors about the house being haunted. Lights were constantly turning on, and people heard strange noises, but no one ever saw a human being inside.”

I laugh and imagine watching Lifetime movies after dark. “You mean like a vampire who never ventures out in daylight? Has anyone tried garlic? Holy water? A stake through the heart?”

Pam snorts out a laugh. “Turns out it’s just Prior Lake folklore. I guess you could say he’s finally making a name for himself, and it starts with an ‘a’ and ends with an ‘e.’”

“What are you talking about?” I ask, falling cross-legged to sit next to her. Beau snuggles in between us. He’s apparently forgiven me for our earlier conflict.

“Turns out, this guy is a real asshole. If he’s related to Mrs. Barrett you’d never know it.”

“Really? What happened?”

Pam leans forward, getting into storytelling mode. “You know how news travels fast around here. Apparently, he got into an argument outside Lund’s with some Girl Scouts over the last box of Thin Mints.”

I bark out a laugh of surprise. “You can’t be serious. He argued with little girls? Who does that?”

“I know. It was an ugly scene. This guy was such a douchebag that all the other customers ganged up on him. Screaming. Swearing. According to Dave Chromy, the manager over there, he almost had to call the police on the guy.”

“Serves him right!” Anger starts at the base of my spine and snakes its way up to land on my cheeks. They flush with a heat I haven’t experienced in a while. Men and their antics piss me off in a way I can’t really explain. It’s my past rearing its ugly head again. “If my Uncle Lenny would’ve been there, he would’ve gotten a knuckle sandwich!”

“He almost did! Like I said, it was awful. He starts spazzing, screaming about how all he wants is a damn box of cookies. By this point, the entire Girl Scout troop is traumatized.”

I run a hand through my thick head of raven hair, wishing I’d opted for a messy bun today. It’s been hanging in my face. “Probably for life.”

“Exactly! So anyway, this prick pulls out his wallet, since, like most men, he thinks he can just buy whatever he wants. Dave said he thought the guy was going to try to pay him off so he wouldn’t call the cops.”

I hold my breath. “And?”

“Then, he does the strangest thing.”

I grin, shaking my head. It sounds like a scene out of a bad comedy. “What?”

“He buys all of the boxes of cookies. I mean, every last one of them.”

My mouth falls open. “You’re kidding? All of them?”

“Yep.”

“That’s weird. Wouldn’t that cost thousands of dollars? Who carries around that kind of cash?”

She scoffs and waves her expressive hands through the air. This guy must really be a prick if he’s getting Pam all worked up. She’s known a lot of men, most of them less than stellar. “I know, so all of the other customers were pissed because no one else could buy a box. A little boy started crying because his grandma couldn’t get him any Do-si-dos. Of course, the douchebag didn’t care. There was a line to buy cookies, Brooke. A long line!”

I can’t even imagine. Then again, considering the selfishness of my unfortunate exes, I can. “He sounds like a real piece of work.”

“Yeah, I have no idea how someone like him is related to someone as sweet as Mrs. Barrett. He must be a distant cousin or something like that.”

I roll my eyes, hoping I never cross paths with Mr. Douche Canoe. “Yeah, like the width of the Grand Canyon.”

Pam sighs, and her hands finally land on her knees. From experience, I know that she won’t gain any wind in her sails after her dramatic story for at least an hour. I’m safe to continue my lesson with Beau until his owner comes to get him after work. “I guess there’s one like that in every family. The Black Sheep.”

“I doubt it. Do you really think your Uncle Lennie would torment little girls?”

I shake my head. Uncle Lennie’s got a temper, but his heart is always in the right place. And he loves kids. “Come on, what about your looney cousin, Rudolph?”

“The good ole red-nosed reindeer has his moments, but he would never get into an argument with Girl Scouts. I can’t figure out for the life of me who would do something like that. It’s like he should have his head examined or something. Maybe we should call Cheryl Prekker and ask her what to do. Jeez.”

I chuckle as I imagine poor Cheryl having to deal with the likes of this piece of work. “Are we talking about the same Cousin Rudy who got eighty-sixed from Extra Innings? I mean, really! If you get kicked out of there, it doesn’t say much for your ability to hold your liquor.”

“Okay, but those bar fights involved grown men with big mouths. Rudy would never raise his voice to a kid.”

I nod. “Good point. So, what are you gonna tell that customer when you call her back.”

“It’s a dilemma alright.” I look down at the name and number that I had just scribbled on the notepad. “I need time to think about it. I wouldn’t feel right recommending someone like him to a new customer. Maybe I’ll ask around town and see if there’s someone else in Minnesota who breeds Chihuahuas and has developed a positive reputation for dogs with good temperaments.”

Pam laughs. “I can totally relate. I wouldn’t want to be in the same room as a man like that. Why is it that his identical twins are constantly hitting on me? I can’t even have lunch at The Artisan anymore. I miss my quiche.”

“No doubt. But at least you attract men. Think if you were me. My dry spell now rivals the dust bowl famine of the depression era. But before we figure anything out, we need to tend to our pal, Beau.”

The dog looks up at me and immediately starts in on his high-pitched yelping. Pam frowns as she covers her ears. “Whoa! That’s intense!”

My head throbs again. “Tell me about it.”

Beau stares at the bag of gourmet dog treats, the yowling growing even louder.

“No more treats until you stop with the shrieking.”

Miraculously, Beau quiets down as if he understands and accepts the threat to his tummy. Pam and I spend the next thirty minutes using positive reinforcement clicker training. He doesn’t make much progress, but he does stop that non-stop yelping.

Pam and I celebrate that small victory and give him half of a gourmet dog bone. He gobbles it up quickly. I look and her and sigh. “It’s gonna be a long six weeks with this one. But Mrs. Peterson, Beau’s owner, paid up front so she could get the discount. Now, there’s no way I can tell her I think he might be a lost cause.”

“No way is right,” she says. “My friend Brooke doesn’t believe in lost causes. That’s some negative imposter. You’ve never met a dog you couldn’t train. How about we take this outdoors? A change of scenery will do all three of us some good.”

“Now I remember why I love you.” I lead Beau through the backdoor into our huge backyard. The sun is bright, and like magic, most of the snow has melted. It’s April, but here in Minnesota, spring takes its precious time to arrive. I’m going to have to wash off his paws before we go back inside, but it’s a small price to pay for the rare shot of Vitamin D.

Beau barks at the sight of the doggie obstacle courses and lots of bright colored toys. He takes off running in circles. It’s obvious that he’s overwhelmed by the stimulation. Agility is one of the best ways to focus a nervous dog.

“Maybe this was a bad idea.” Pam frowns as she watches Beau run straight through a tunnel and hop over a low jump.

I jog over to him. “Beau! Come!”

Finally, he focuses his attention on me, trots toward me and sits at my feet in a perfect recall position.

Praise be to God.

Pam walks over to me, holding a baggie with tiny freeze-dried liver pieces, perfect for training. Beau’s eyes light up as he barks.

“No! Quiet!” I point at him. “If you want this…” I shake the baggie until drops of drool hit the grass at my feet, “you have to listen. Is that a deal? I’m not above bribery.”

He barks louder, and I imagine my nosy neighbor Mrs. Thomas stomping over to let her displeasure be known. When I got the special permit from the city, I promised them that barking would be kept to a minimum. This house is zoned residential.

“Come on!” I shake my head before turning to Pam. “This is impossible. Anything with a penis is impossible.”

“Let me try something…”

I make an uh-oh face. “That look in your eye is usually the beginning of a crazy idea.”

Pam motions me to stand perfectly still as if we’re playing the mannequin challenge. Beau sits and stares at us, his mouth sealed shut. If I’d have known that all it would take is a little silence to create this calm dog, I’d have done it the moment I got here. Leave it to Pam to be the one who breaks straight through. She has a knack for all things male.

As I stare in awe at the silent Beau, I think of another person who could use a little shutting up. Mrs. Barrett’s relative. Who screams at Girl Scouts? I’m not sure what his deal is, but I want nothing to do with him. Still, I’m torn about giving a recommendation to my new customer. On the one hand, he’s in town, and Mrs. Barret’s breeding program has been successful for generations. On the other hand, I can’t in good conscience send a customer to the home of a wingnut.

Taking a risk wins out because I have to put the welfare of the dogs before my own eagerness to punish this faceless man. Chihuahuas need a loving home. Surely that angry grouch terrorizing little girls is incapable of providing that. Perhaps I could be doing one of my four-legged friends a big favor by getting it out of his evil clutches.

“What are you thinking about?” Pam spears me with a questioning gaze.

I hesitate since I’m about to sound loony myself. “Oh, I just–”

“Are you daydreaming about some random hottie? Who is he? Spill!”

I shake my head, wishing I had something romantic to report. “You know it’s been ages since I’ve been on a date. Don’t tease me about it.”

“And whose fault is that? Every single guy from Shakopee to Lakeville makes eyes at you, and you’ve rejected them all, one-by-one. They fall to their knees with their shattered hearts in their hands.”

I snort. “You know it’s more complicated than that.”

“Really?”

I start toward the house, Beau trailing behind me. Miraculously, he hasn’t let out a yelp since we shocked him into silence. “I just don’t want to settle. I’d rather have something amazing and genuine than to just settle.”

She grins, and I know something is coming that I don’t want to hear. “There’s something to be said for settling…in the short-term.”

I ignore her endorsement of random hookups. “Besides, I wasn’t even thinking about guys. I was actually trying to decide what I’m going to tell the customer who wants a Chihuahua.”

“And?”

I exhale a long breath. “I might be about to do something I’ll regret.”