SATISH
Satish jumped in the air and caught the Frisbee. Tough, Molly.
Ears flapping, the four-footed sore loser lunged at the pink disc. She tore it out of his hands, knocking him on his ass. She zigged and zagged down the backyard like a stoked soccer midfielder. Frisbee between her teeth, the damn dog made a sharp U-turn and pranced back towards them as if expecting applause and a million-bucks contract.
Magnus howled and cheered his canine onward.
“That is one fast dog,” Satish called, too winded to get on his feet.
“She wants to play more.” Magnus approached man’s best friend with his hand out.
Molly tossed her head, went down on her front paws, and backed up with her butt in the air. She watched Satish out of the corner of her eye.
He rolled over to his hands and knees. “Let’s sneak up on her.”
“She’s pretty smart.”
“Aren’t all females pretty smart?” Satish crawled toward the dog.
“My mom sure is.” Magnus wiggled his fingers at his dog but turned his head toward Satish. “She’s pretty too, doncha think?”
“Sure, I guess,” Satish lied and then compounded the lie. Lack of oxygen to his brain made thinking hard. “I never thought about it.”
“You should.” Magnus grinned. “You really should. She’s smart. She’s pretty. She’s nice. ’N she’s a doctor, you know. She works awful hard saving people.”
“Glad to hear it.” Satish managed to get into a crouch.
Before he fulfilled his intentions of standing upright, Molly knocked him flat again. Black dots danced in front of his eyes. The damn mutt stood over him with slobber dripping off the Frisbee and one front paw on his chest as if the beast had brought down a mongoose or a Brahma bull or a water buffalo to protect her turf.
Magnus rushed over, knelt, and touched three fingers to Satish’s forehead. “You okay? You smacked your head pretty hard. Want me to get my mom? Maybe you need mouth-to-mouth restatation.”
Oh, yeah. Mouth-to-mouth restatation. From AnnaSophia Romanov. Only a brain transplant makes more sense.
“I’m okay.” Satish bit back a groan, but made no effort to play the TV-cop-hero by trying to get on his feet. “Think you could persuade Molly to move to one side?”
“Molly.” Magnus whistled.
The dog rested her front paws—big as boats and heavy as anvils—on Satish’s chest and dropped the gross Frisbee an inch or so below his chin. Her soulful eyes peered into his, leaving no doubt which of them was the Alpha.
“Molly.” Giggles defused Magnus’s command. Laughing too hard to stand, he gave her side a half-hearted shove. She grunted, tail wagging, but remained a dead weight. “Molleeee.”
The giggles thumped Satish’s pounding head, but he liked the uncensored guffaws. He made a performance of pushing at the dog’s chest. Molly nipped his fingers. Satish responded with a lion’s roar, rolling to his side. The dog slid off his body. Magnus grabbed her. Satish stood—a little unsteady—and whacked his chest like a gorilla.
Thank God AnnaSophia didn’t come out and find him looking like an idiot.
“Molly likes you,” Magnus announced with the total confidence only seven-year-olds could rally.
“I noticed.” Satish brushed off his backside. Catching the hum of the garage door, he cocked his head. Anastaysa—home from her sleepover? “Next time,” he strained to hear the fallout when AnnaSophia reported last night’s adventure, “let’s take Molly for a walk.”
“Hear that, girl?” Magnus dropped a kiss on her nose, jumped back, and pinched his nostrils. “Yuk. Her breath stinks.”
“Stinks?” Satish laughed again. “I thought it smelled like fresh flowers.”
“Fresh dog poo you mean.” Magnus rolled his eyes. “I’ve tried to train her, but Mamá says it’s her nature.”
“You said your mom’s smart.” Satish glanced toward the house, but avoided eyeballing the French doors—still blocked by the chairs. Maybe, just maybe Magnus hadn’t noticed. “I need to get going, but I should say goodbye to your mom.”
“I’ll go in with you. I want to know why those chairs are outside her bedroom.”
Damn. Satish ground his teeth. Despite the sun, a chill stirred the hairs on the back of his neck. AnnaSophia would’ve come outside if she’d figured out a plausible story. Unless Alexandra knocked her out. Or found the bullets. Or was throwing another tantrum.
Not your problem. Someone’s in the house—maybe another doc AnnaSophia called.
“C’mon, Molly. Let’s go in.” Magnus stopped, looked over his shoulder and grinned, smashing through Satish’s selfish heart. “You comin’, Detective Patel?”
God … dammit. Satish couldn’t believe it when he shook his head. “Let’s play another round of Frisbee.”