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The dog shadowed Service around the cabin in the early morning, staying close and watching, but not interfering.
"Take her along with you today," Kira said sleepily from the bed. "She'll be good company."
"I can't. It's against regs."
"Don't be so contrary. Just tell her what you want. She's better trained than you."
His legs felt rubbery. His fear of dogs was entirely irrational, but it had always been there; he had tried several times to conquer it, to no avail.
"Okay," he said, pushing open the front door. The mastiff followed him out. When he opened the passenger door, the dog jumped up and sat down. It was embarrassing to be a conservation officer afraid of dogs.
"You'll do as I say," Service said to the dog as he slid behind the wheel.
The dog woofed softly, taking him by surprise. "You don't understand a damn word I say. That was coincidence."
The animal woofed again and stared at him.
"This is my truck and I'll do the talking." Damn Kira.
Nantz's truck was already there when Service pulled in. Her feet were sticking out the driver's window. The sky was suggesting gray, morning twilight under way.
"Skeeters will make you their breakfast," he said, tickling one of her bare feet.
Her feet recoiled slightly. "I've got a lot of testosterone," she said. "It keeps skeeters and men away."
He smiled. "I doubt that.. ."
