Barking Detective 04 - The Chihuahua Always Sniffs Twice Read Online Free PDF Page A

feathery white pampas grass. Set among the landscaping was a curved-steel sign engraved with the words WILLIAMS VETERINARY HOSPITAL.
    I had called Felix to let him know I probably wouldn’t be back in Seattle in time for our dinner. He didn’t answer his phone, so I left a voice mail. Meanwhile, Pepe added his scent to what was surely a medley of doggie scents on one of the concrete posts holding up the sign. I looked around the car for his leash, but it seemed he’d hidden it again. Pepe hates the leash. He always fights me when I try to put it on him, but he also likes to pick fights with any large dog he sees. I guess you could call it “small-dog complex.”
    “Are you coming in with me?” I asked him when he was through with his business. “Or do you prefer to wait in the car?”
    “Of course I am coming in with you,” Pepe said huffily. “I know this is not our vet—nobody here will prod and poke and foist sundry other indignities on me.”
    “Whatever you say. But if there are any dogs in there, particularly big dogs,” I told him, picking him up as we headed into the clinic, “I don’t want you making a scene.”
     
     
    Luckily the waiting room was empty. It was bright and airy, with a stained concrete floor and a desk made of poured green glass, topped with a slab of polished stainless steel. It was furnished with two chrome-accented, black-leather benches and matching chairs that looked as if they’d come from a Scandinavian design store.
    There was a bell on the desk. I went over and gave it a ring. After a few moments, a woman came out through a stainless-steel double door behind the desk.
    She was quite good-looking, in a Barbie doll sort of way. She wore a pink smock, her blond hair was frosted and piled up on top of her head, and she had long, bubblegum-pink nails that looked like claws. The plastic name tag pinned to her smock said her name was Bonnie.
    “Hello,” she said in a high, squeaky voice. “Do you have an appointment?”
    “We’re here to talk to the vet,” I said. “Mr. Boswell sent us.”
    “Oh,” she said. “I’ll get Hugh. He’s in back.” She turned and went out through the double door.
    A few minutes later, the door opened and a man emerged. He was so good-looking, he took my breath away. He was about my age—somewhere in his midthirties. He was dressed casually, in blue jeans and a white doctor’s coat, open over an ice-blue shirt. He had a square jaw and sandy-blond hair, a bit long, that kept falling forward over his startlingly blue eyes.
    “Geri, restrain yourself,” Pepe told me.
    “What are you talking about?” I asked him.
    “Do not be offended, Geri,” he said. “I recognize the symptoms of heat.”
    I swear, there’s nothing as disconcerting as having your dog be so knowledgeable about your love life. I felt myself blush—I mean, really blush.
    “Hello,” the vet said, as he extended his hand, “I’m Doctor Hugh Williams.”
    I took his hand—it was as warm as the flush on my cheeks. “Yes,” I managed to say, noting his grip was firm but very gentle. “I’m Geri—Geri Sullivan.”
    I thought about withdrawing my hand, but Doctor Hugh was giving me little electric tingles. (Either that or I had a pinched nerve, which I very much doubted.)
    “You seem flushed,” Hugh told me. “Are you hot?”
    “ Sí! ” Pepe told him. “She is muy caliente. ”
    “No, I’m fine,” I said.
    He let go of my hand and turned his attention to Pepe, who was still snuggled in my arms. “Cute little Chihuahua. What’s her name?”
    Pepe bristled at the suggestion that he was a female dog. “I am Pepe el Macho ,” he declared.
    “Pepe,” I said. “He’s my partner,” I added.
    “Ah! Of course,” said the vet. “You’re the private detectives. It was wise of Barry to hire you to protect Mrs. Carpenter’s dogs.”
    “I’d like to ask you some questions about them if I could.”
    “Yes, of course. My pleasure,” Hugh said.
    He led us