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CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

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JULIETTE COULDN'T BELIEVE it. "Look at him," she railed under her breath as she eyed him through the peephole. "Standing there like...like nothing's any different than it was the last time he stood there!" She couldn't believe how angry she suddenly was.

She flipped on the porch light and yanked the door open after getting a good grip on the dog's collar. "What have I done this time?"

Victor squinted a little in the sudden brilliance of the bulb over his head, but remained calm even as the dog tried to rip Juliette's arm off to get to him. "Good evening, Ms. Gustafson."

So it was back to Ms. Gustafson. Two could play that game. "It's not evening, Officer Jarrett. It's morning."

"Good morning, then. I'm here because of a noise complaint." He spoke in clipped tones that made her blood boil. Juliette pressed her lips together and peered up at him, knowing exactly what noise he referred to, but waiting for him to explain anyway. Her anger suddenly dissipated, replaced by shock and concern.

Under the light, he looked awful. The skin under his eyes was deeply shadowed, almost bruised, and his jaw was tight. He looked like he needed a nap, a shave, and a good, hot meal.

"Are...are you all right?" she asked before she caught herself, leaning forward just a little to be sure it wasn't just the light playing tricks on her.

"I'm fine." His curt reply made her step back, and he glanced down at the pad he held in his hand. "We've had a complaint about—" He stopped and rubbed his eyes with his thumb and fingers. "It says here you have a pack of wolves locked in your garage. Is this," he indicated the agitated Tootles. "One of them?"

"A pack of wolves? Are you serious? First I'm a call girl, then I operate a motorcycle gang, and now I'm zookeeper? Mrs. Cork is certifiably insane, okay? But then, so are you because you, Officer Meanie Man Jerkett, actually believe her!" She let go of the dog. "Bite him, Tootles."

But Tootles defied her yet again, and threw himself against Victor's legs, thumping him with his tail, and burying his nose in all the inappropriate places, lavishing wet kisses all over his boots and kneecaps. Juliette rolled her red eyes and groaned.

"Oh, great. We've got a dog whisperer on the force." She was beyond caring how she sounded. He was here in the middle of the night, accusing her of housing wild animals, and acting as though the most incredible kiss in the whole world hadn't taken place only inches from where they were standing. "Apparently my dog likes you a whole lot better than I do."

"Not getting much sleep?" he asked gently. "You look exhausted. I take it he's new." The man was trying to be nice, but she wasn't having any of it.

"I'm not getting any sleep right now because I'm standing here in the wee hours of the morning, warding off friendly neighborhood defamation charges from a man who has spent way too much time on my front porch. Go away, Officer. I'll keep Tootles quiet. You can assure Mrs. Cork that he won't disrupt her beauty sleep anymore." Juliette grabbed the dog's collar and glared up at the officer. "And just for the record, you don't look so great yourself. Maybe you should get some beauty sleep, too."

Victor studied her, his expression sympathetic. Finally, he tore off the top page from the pad in his hand and held it out to her. "Just a warning this time. The next call regarding a noise violation will warrant a ticket, okay?" He hesitated a fraction of a minute before continuing. "And please understand, Ms. Gustafson. I don't want to have to visit your front porch any more than you want me to. Just keep him quiet, okay?"

His voice was soft, weary, but his words sank like a stone to the pit of her stomach. Victor reached down and ruffled the fur of the dog standing between them. "You're a good watchdog, aren't you, buddy? A little loud, but you'd scare off a bad guy."

"Oh, yeah." Juliette rolled her eyes again, crossing her arms against the chill in the air. "Look how scary he is. What kind of watchdog licks kneecaps and drools on the bad guys' boots?"

"I'm not the bad guy, Juliette," Victor said, straightening up and hooking his thumbs in his pockets, but not taking his eyes off the dog.

"The verdict is still out on that one, remember?" She wasn't joking this time.

Victor grimaced, then tipped his head to meet her eyes. "Does that mean there's still hope for me?"

Now it was her turn to stare down at the dog. She didn't know what to say to him. He'd kissed her, and abandoned her without so much as an explanation, and now he stood here on her front step asking her to believe he was one of the good guys? Who was he kidding?

Finally he cleared his throat and took a step backward. "I'm happy to see that you have a dog. It's good to know I have a little help when I can't be everywhere at once."

He really did look awful, and now she saw something in his eyes besides fatigue. Was it regret? Her traitorous heart softened just the tiniest bit.

"Well, he's clearly happy to see you, too." She clung to her recalcitrance, but her tone was kinder. "You two make a good team, keeping me up all night long. I should make you take him with you, since you seem to get along so well."

She pushed the dog inside, then turned around to face him, pulling the door nearly closed behind her so just the dog's nose stuck out between her knees. "Look, I'm terribly tired and Tootles is terribly not. We'll figure it out, I promise. If I survive." She took a deep breath and let it out in a huff. "Can a person die of sleep deprivation?"

"It's a slow and painful way to go." He sounded like he was talking from personal experience.

"Lovely. Thanks for giving me something to look forward to."

The corners of his mouth twitched a little, but that was all. He simply stood there for several moments, just long enough for her to wonder if she should speak, then he cleared his throat again. "I, uh, haven't seen you in church lately."

She shook her head. "I haven't been the last few weeks. Sorry."

"You don't have to apologize to me. I was just saying I'd noticed. I'm glad you're okay. I'll stop worrying now."

"No, I'm fine. You don't have to worry about me." But the thought of him thinking about her made her feel a little light-headed.

"We didn't scare you away, did we?" His voice became even quieter. "Did I?" Juliette looked up at his face, surprised at his genuine concern. Maybe Sharon was right after all.

"Scare me away? No! Michelle and Tom were wonderful, and I don't know if I even thanked them. Or you. You went out of your way to be kind to me, Vic—Officer. Most people just turn and look the other way when they see someone hurting. You didn't. So thank you."

"I'm not most people." He didn't catch her stumble over his name, or it no longer mattered.

"No." She shook her head. "You're not, are you?"

The silence that followed gave her little hope, and she pulled the edges of her robe closer in a subconscious effort to protect her heart. The night was chilly, and the darkness that settled just outside the circle of light from her porch felt unfriendly and cold.

Victor tipped his head toward the dog. "You know, Michelle is really good with dogs. I know she'd enjoy helping you with ... well, with ... your dog."

"Tootles."

"Yes. Anyway, she—"

"His name is Tootles." Why wouldn't he say the dog's name? "Too-tles." She said it slowly, as though teaching him a new word.

"Right. Well, Mich—"

"You can't say it, can you? Tootles." She was beginning to smile, teasing him. "What's the matter? Is it not tough enough for you?"

"I'll just call him Bob."

"But his name is Tootles! He won't come to Bob."

"Sure he will. He knows a real man's name when he hears it." He grinned.

She rolled her eyes again.

"Let's test my theory, then." He moved several feet down the walk before turning back to face them. He spoke firmly, but not loudly. "Bob. Come here!" She stepped aside, and Tootles charged down the steps, hurtling himself at the man. Victor looked up at her, his eyes challenging.

"Tootles! Come here, Tootles! Come to mama!" The dog had suddenly gone deaf. It continued to circle the policeman, panting and licking, leaning into the man's legs and whacking him with its tail. "Hey! I'm the one who feeds you! Come here, right now, you little turncoat!"

"He's not a turncoat," Victor chuckled, as he and the dog came back up the steps together. "He just doesn't like that 'I was named by a girl. Come beat me up!' name you gave him."

"Ha! And you won't say it, will you? A big, hunk of a manly man like you can't say Tootles!"

"Big hunk of a manly man? I thought I was Meanie Man Jerkett."

"You are!" She jabbed a finger into his chest, but he caught her wrist. With his thumb, he uncurled her fingers and brought her hand to his chest, covering it with his own, holding it there the way he had before, pressed flat over his heart. She stared at their hands, the way his covered hers so only the tips of her fingers could be seen.

Then she remembered to breathe and suddenly, everything wrong with the night seemed to right itself. Her shoulders relaxed, and the crease between her eyebrows disappeared. She lifted her gaze to Victor's face and forgot to breathe all over again. He studied her, his storm-gray gaze wandering over her features; her own misty eyes, the curl of her hair around her ears, her parted lips. Tootles stood between them looking back and forth, trying to choose which one he should lean against first.

"He doesn't even look like a Bob," she whispered.

At that moment, Mrs. Cork's front porch light flipped on. Victor released Juliette's hand and took a step backwards, and Juliette reached for Tootles' collar just as her neighbor stepped outside. She did not look happy.

"Mrs. Cork." Victor called out softly, nodding in her direction.

She glared at them, obviously waiting for some kind of explanation. Juliette pulled the collar of her robe up with one hand, covering her flushed face, while the other held tightly to Tootles' collar. At that moment, Mrs. Cork's little dog catapulted from her arms, charged down the front steps, and across the adjoining lawns. Tootles lunged forward, dragging Juliette to her knees, but she held tight to his collar. Mrs. Cork began to wail, flapping her arms like a scrawny chicken.

"Mr. Bobo! Mr. Bobo! He's going to eat Mr. Bobo!" She reached for the handrail on her porch and hitched her way down the steps, the old lady slippers on her feet making her descent rather precarious. "Do something, Officer! Call the police! Mr. Bobo!"

"Bob!" Victor's booming voice cut through the shrieking, and brought everything to a standstill for one breath of a second, even the dogs. It wasn't much; just long enough for him to grab Tootles' collar and help Juliette right herself, and then Mr. Bobo was on the porch. The two dogs were all over each other, sniffing and licking, pawing and circling, like long-lost relatives at an overdue reunion.

Victor crossed the lawn to Mrs. Cork, who was making her way over the dew-dampened grass. He offered her his arm and she looked up at him. "I don't think he's going to eat Mr. Bobo after all."

"No," said the officer, "I don't see that happening. In fact, I think Bob is missing his wolf pack, and is happy to find another man around." Juliette stifled a giggle.

"They do look like they want to be friends." Mrs. Cork's tentative tone, usually so curt, made Juliette's eye widen in wonder. Victor was an old lady whisperer, too! With a tight grip on Tootles' collar, Juliette led the dog down the steps to the lawn, Mr. Bobo frolicking playfully between the big dog's legs.

"Yes, it does. Maybe you and Juliette should arrange some play dates for your boys. It looks like Mr. Bobo might enjoy spending time with a young pup, and we all know Bob is still learning to adjust to his wonderful new life."

Juliette narrowed her eyes to glare at the policeman.

"Well," Mrs. Cork shook her head slightly. "I'm awfully busy, and Mr. Bobo usually just follows me around all day. I don't know how he'd do going to visit someone else."

"But it's not just anyone else he'd be visiting," Victor protested, patting the hand she had curled around his bicep. "It's Bob. And practically in his own backyard, too. Besides, you'll never know until you try it."

Now Juliette was getting perturbed. Who did he think he was, trying to orchestrate a relationship between her and her crabby-pants neighbor? "I don't know, Officer," she hemmed. "That might be tough with our schedules."

"Well, maybe we could work something out." Mrs. Cork stepped forward and reached down to touch the top of Tootles' head. The traitorous hound looked up and licked her fingertips. "What do you think, Bob? Would you like to play with Mr. Bobo sometime?"

"His name is Tootles," Juliette corrected.

"What? Oh. I thought...." Mrs. Cork's voice trailed off as she glanced from Victor to Juliette and back. "Tootles? That can't be right. He doesn't even look like a Tootles! I'm sure I heard you calling him Bob."

Juliette looked up at the policeman who had his hand up covering his mouth, as though he were pondering something of vast intellectual consequences. "You know, Mrs. Cork, I think you're right. He really looks like a Bob, doesn't he?"

"Yes, he does," the older woman nodded emphatically. "Bob. See? He likes it, too." Juliette shook her head in utter amazement. The dog looked up from chewing on Mr. Bobo's ear because the woman was paying attention to him, not because he liked the name Bob.

"But he's my dog, and I named him Tootles," she declared, feeling a pout coming on.

Mrs. Cork shook her head vehemently. "Oh no, Juliette! You are Bob's person, not the other way around." Then she actually chuckled, shocking Juliette into silence. She'd never heard the woman laugh in the four years they'd shared the two halves of the condominium. "The sooner you figure that out, the sooner you'll find out how wonderful it is to be loved by a dog."

"Ladies," Victor interjected. "And gentlemen." He reached down to scuffle Mr. Bobo's ear. "Duty calls and it's late. I'm sorry to have kept you up so late, but I hope the four of you will be able to figure out a way for your dogs to interact in the future. Mrs. Cork? May I see you to your door?"

Juliette snorted as he once again held out his arm to the old lady who scooped up her dog and smiled up at the officer like a blushing schoolgirl. Juliette glared at the dip between his shoulder blades as he escorted the ridiculous woman and her Mr. Bobo across the lawn and up to her own front stoop, where Mrs. Cork held out her dog for the nice officer to pet. He obliged. Then Mrs. Cork did something she'd never done before. As Officer Jarrett made his way off her porch, she looked across the street lamp-lit lawn and waved, calling out, "Good night, Juliette. Good night, Bob!"

Amazed, Juliette waved back and turned to go inside, wrestling Bob in ahead of her.

"Juliette. Wait." Victor stopped her with a hand on her shoulder and she jumped.

"How did you get over here so fast?" she gasped, having assumed he'd go straight to his car.

Grinning, he held both hands aloft in surrender. "Sorry I startled you. I didn't want to call out and wake up the neighborhood."

"Um, between Mrs. Cork screaming that my dog is going to eat Mr. Bobo, and you showing off your dog whisperer skills, I think it's too late. The other neighbors are probably calling the cops as we speak." She pulled the door nearly closed behind her again, but this time Tootles seemed content to stay inside. She looked up at Victor with narrowed eyes. "You know, that was pretty slick back there. Mrs. Cork and I haven't interacted that much in the entire time I've lived here, no less in one sitting. I think she's actually considering having a neighborly relationship with me now. I don't know whether to hit you or kiss you."

His eyebrows went up and his smile broadened. Juliette blushed and rushed on. "Sorry. Like I said, I'm ridiculously tired so I can't be responsible for what comes out of my mouth. Was there something else you wanted?"

He hesitated, as though choosing his words carefully. "I'm glad you have Bob." That was what he wanted to tell her? Juliette couldn't prevent the swell of disappointment in her belly.

"Tootles," she quipped, a little too brightly.

"Tootles," he nodded, saying the name for the first time, his deep voice tight with resistance and humor.

Juliette's brow furrowed. "Oh dear." She shook her head, a grave look on her face.

"What is it?"

"You're right, Officer Jarrett. That's just wrong in so many ways. It was really cute when we girls were calling him Tootles in our high, squeaky voices, but when you say it? Eek! Total emasculation." She snorted. "Of the dog, not you. Your manliness just highlights the girliness of his name."

"I think you just called me manly again."

"That's not what I said. Well, that's not what I meant. I mean, you are manly, but I didn't mean to point it out." She put a hand up to cover her eyes. "I just said it again, didn't I?" She began backing through the door, then hid behind it, only her eyes peeking out to look up at him. "Officer, I'm going to call it a night."

"I liked it better when you called me Victor." Hadn't she said those exact same words to him so many weeks ago?

"Well then, goodnight, Victor," she murmured.

"Goodnight, Juliette. Sleep well." He saluted and turned to leave. Halfway down the walk, he stopped and looked back at her. "Maybe I'll see you in church on Saturday."

She grinned. "Maybe you will."