Page 21 of Death on Gallows Path

“Clara,” I murmured without taking my eyes off the woman across the room.

“Yeah,” my friend said in a similar under-her-breath voice.

Zoley wore thick makeup, concentrated on her right cheek, noticeable across the room.

Beauty gurus said makeup should be enhancing without being obvious.

This was obvious without enhancing.

Leo precluded further observation, much less consultation with Clara, by saying, “Okay, we’ll have more opportunities to work on that later. Let’s try heel now. Everybody up.”

That provided plenty of opportunities for corrections as we worked on walking our dogs in a heel.

Gracie had issues with the temptation of LuLu in front of her and Bernie behind her, not to mention the new dogs and people in the room.

I received the Give her a correction order from Leo a couple times and tried not to glow at his Good pop after the second.

No one was immune, but Berrie got the most corrections and no Good pops.

I might OD on schadenfreude.

“Let’s do something fun for the last exercise.” The trainer sounded less enthusiastic than at the beginning of class. Berrie had that effect on people. “Pup tic-tac-toe.”

He placed a white plastic grid that looked like an oversized grill for windows in the center of a large painted circle on the floor.

“Each owner will bring your dog up. Once you enter the circle, you’ll have eight seconds to get him or her to sit inside one of the boxes created by the grid. A sit in the box earns your team that square.” He passed out plastic-covered sheets with a large X or O, alternating as he made his way around the perimeter. “First team to complete a straight- or diagonal-line wins, same as regular tic-tac-toe. X starts.”

“That gives X an unfair advantage,” Bryon Georger spun the O sheet he’d been handed for Izolde.

He’d seemed fairly mellow at the first session. Not tonight.

“What are you? A tic-tac-toe expert? Unfair,” Damon Swindell mocked, taking the X sheet away from his wife sharply enough that Pammy recoiled slightly.

“Tic-tac-toe’s a classic entry-level coding task, so, yeah, I was an expert way back when I entered my profession.”

I doubted anyone listening thought Bryon Georger’s superciliousness was limited to an entry-level coding task being beneath him. His leftover superciliousness could drown Damon Swindell.

As much as Damon tried for a full-on sneer, his face stiffened at Bryon’s emphasis on profession.

Before he could speak, Leo said, “It’s a fun exercise for the dogs.”

“And for people who don’t take themselves so seriously,” Zoley Georger inserted. Inserted being the appropriate word, because Bryon jerked as if a needle slid into his skin.

“No reason to let it be rigged,” he said. Superciliousness gone, he sounded pouty.

“An expert in tic-tac-toe,” Damon said. “Like that ever pays off in real money.”

The trainer firmly cut across whatever response Bryon might have made. “Let’s lead off with Bernie.”

“Why let her start?” Damon demanded.

“Damon. Please—” Pammy tried to smooth the waters, though I caught a faint tremor in her voice.

His head snapped around to her.

She flinched.

Could that explain why she smoothed, while Zoley poked?