Page 23 of Death on Gallows Path

“Damon, come up with Lucifer,” Leo said.

CHAPTER TWELVE

“All we can do is block now. No way to win,” Damon Swindell grumbled, yanking on Lucifer’s leash.

Leo ignored the grumble, focusing on the dog. “Don’t pull. Remember, it’s a pop. Get low, make it short. You want to get his attention, not physically move him.”

Damon growled and continued dragging.

“Sit,” he ordered.

Lucifer stared straight ahead.

“Sit,” Damon shouted.

Lucifer stared straight ahead.

Damon yanked on the leash.

Lucifer’s head came forward slightly, but his derriere didn’t drop.

The man yanked harder.

Clearly, he’d never heard the wisdom that the neck is one of the strongest parts of a dog’s body.

I’ll admit, smugness wrapped around me.

As even-voiced as ever, Leo said, “Time’s up. Take him back to his place. Showing your frustration is never a useful training tool.”

Bryon made no effort to hide his gloating. “Maybe no way to win, but that’s the sure way to lose.”

Damon took a step toward him and Bryon came partway out of his chair, but Leo was there between them. Not obviously breaking up a fight, but creating a barrier. With his usual calm, he said, “Gracie, next.”

Smug rarely gets its potential comeuppance this quickly.

I sent a quick wish to the universe that if there was karmic punishment for smug it fell on me and not on Gracie.

By the time we got to the grid, both the men in the Gang of Four were seated and looking ostentatiously away from each other.

Gracie added to the resumption of calm by sitting quickly inside the box after my command, then giving a little bounce that drew relieved and nervous chuckles from several humans.

The tic-tac-toe exercise went smoothly after that.

Oh, except for Berrie, who failed with each of the Bostons.

By that time, I had no idea who’d won or lost.

With a look toward the wall clock, Leo said, “I’d hoped we’d have a couple more games of tic-tac-toe. Another time.”

Had to admire his staunch upbeatness. I wanted to hide under a chair.

As Leo wrapped up class, Clara and I exchanged a look that agreed we’d hang back long enough to ensure the Gang of Four was gone before we approached the door.

Apparently, everyone else had the same thought . . . except Berrie.

There wasn’t a repeat of the unpleasantness from the beginning of the first class — the Gang of Four plus their dogs departed before Berrie pulled herself together.

The rest of us dawdled, waiting for her to leave, too, then fed out into the main part of the building with pleasantries and smiles that almost wiped out the memory of the tension among the other humans.