interfere.” She turned to Dr. Greenwood. “Which exam room should I take Chaz to for his rabies booster?”
“Room one is fine,” Dr. Greenwood said.
“Goodbye, Mr. Nichols,” she said cheerfully. “And good luck.”
He watched her and her friendly little dog go, as if she couldn’t wait to leave the room he was in. Disappointment warred with irritation as she swished away—he hadn’t asked for the kooky woman’s input, so he had no reason to feel guilty about refusing her so-called help.
His dog didn’t need a damn shrink.
Dr. Greenwood coughed politely. “Let me know if you notice any changes in Sheridan—good or bad. Otherwise, I’ll call you when I know more.”
Mike nodded and led Sheridan to the door, frowning down at the pink stuffed bone clamped in his dog’s jaws. Yet another step backward.
He was starting to regret coming to this place called Sweetness.
Chapter Three
“The doc will figure out what’s wrong with him,” Barry Ballantine said.
Mike wiped sweat from his brow. Even with a prosthetic lower leg, his former military buddy was setting a brisk pace for their morning run across Clover Ridge. Barry was an ex—Navy SEAL who ran the newly built dog training facility. Next to them ran Sealy, Barry’s German shepherd mix, and Sheridan, who showed no signs of fatigue…and still held the stuffed pink bone clamped in his mouth.
“What’s with the girlie toy?” Barry asked with a grin.
Mike frowned. “Some eccentric lady and her dog were at the vet’s office, and her dog gave it to Sheridan. Now he’ll only put it down to eat, and then he guards it like a damn treasure.”
“Eccentric? Curly blond hair, pretty?”
Mike shrugged. “She’s cute, I guess. Fluffy name.”
“Lacey Lovejoy.”
“Yeah, that’s her—lady’s got a screw loose.”
Barry laughed. “People around here think she can communicate with animals.”
“I know,” Mike said with a scoff. “She tried to psychoanalyze my dog.”
“What’d she say?”
Mike stopped running and massaged a stitch in his side.
Barry stopped, too, then threw a mock punch. “You’re getting soft, man.”
Mike gave a little laugh. “Shut up, man. I feel like crap. I got no sleep last night—Sheridan woke me up every couple of hours, howling.”
“Bad dreams?”
“Pain, more likely. I’m afraid it’s something serious, but I’m trying not to worry until Dr. Greenwood gets back to me with the test results.”
Barry nodded. “So what did Lacey have to say about Sheridan?”
Mike frowned. “She said he was scared.”
“Of what?”
“She didn’t say, and I didn’t ask. What a crock.”
“Maybe,” Barry agreed. “But she comes to the training center to groom the dogs, and she’s good with them—even the bad-tempered ones.”
“Sheridan isn’t bad-tempered.”
“You know what I mean—the difficult trainees, the ones that are hyper or antisocial. Lacey has a way with them.”
Mike lifted his water bottle for a drink, then poured a few splashes over Sheridan’s head, since he couldn’t seem to put down the toy long enough to pant and cool himself down naturally. The dog skittered sideways, which only irritated Mike more. “This is why you asked me to bring Sheridan here, to see this Dr. Dolittle lady?”
“Of course not. Like you, I thought Sheridan was just getting lazy, being rebellious.” Barry nodded to the black Lab. “But it’s evident something’s wrong—he’s a different dog than I remember.”
Mike chewed on his tongue. “Like you said, Dr. Greenwood will figure it out.”
Barry clapped him on the back. “Probably. Let’s head back.”
They jogged back across the ridge at a slower rate. Far below them were the buildings that made up the town of Sweetness. Straight ahead in the distance lay another mountainous ridge.
“The town is sitting in a bowl,” Mike observed.
Barry nodded. “That’s why the first tornado did so much damage when it touched down. The mountain ridges contained it and the longer it spun, the more powerful it became.”
“You saw it?”
“I saw it coming,” Barry said, his expression tight, “after the warning alarm was sounded from the water tower.” He shook his head, obviously still moved by his memories. “The size and the force of that monster is still indescribable. It’s something I hope I never see again.”
“How did you ride it out?”
“I ran to Moon’s Grocery and Mr. Moon herded everyone into the basement. When the storm was over, though, we were trapped, buried alive.”
Mike’s step faltered. “Seriously? How’d you get out?”
“Emory Maxwell and Porter Armstrong were home on leave from the Army. They dug us out with little more than their bare hands. And there were stories like that all over town. I still can’t believe no one died that day. The town