Read Mariner's Compass for Free Online Page B

died and left me everything he owns, which apparently includes Scout here.”
    “That’s the strangest thing I ever heard.”
    Should I tell him the stipulation of the will? No, the silent voice cautioned again. Gabe’s instinctive cop suspiciousness had obviously rubbed off on me. Mr. Trujillo would find out soon enough, since I was destined to be his neighbor for the next two weeks. One thing was for sure, I wanted Gabe to check the place out before I uncurled my bedroll and settled in.
    “Did you . . .” I didn’t know quite how to say it. “What kind of impression did you get of him?”
    He pulled at one of his short sideburns, considering my question. “I’d say he was about my age—early sixties. Liked to garden and fish, like a lot of us who retire here. Showed me some of his wood carving. The guy was really talented. Oh, and he was a diabetic.”
    “He was?” I hadn’t seen any indication of it, but then I hadn’t looked through the kitchen cupboards yet.
    “Yeah, he told me when he found out I was once a paramedic. I’m borderline myself, but I can still control it by diet. Oh, one other thing. He and the lady across the street were in and out of each other’s places a lot.” He pointed to a blue and white clapboard house next door to the Pelican Inn.
    That must be the woman who found him. There was one of those potential disappointed persons who worried me. How close were she and Mr. Chandler? “Well, thanks. I guess I’ll be seeing you around.”
    “I’ll look forward to it. Sorry I couldn’t be of more help.”
    “That’s okay. Well, Scooby-doo,” I said to my new dog, “we’ve got exactly one hour to figure out how to break it to my husband that we have a new family member.”
    Rich bent down and scratched Scout’s throat. “Hope he likes dogs.”
    “He does.” At least, I hoped he did, because I’d already decided one thing. There was no way I was giving up this one.
    Rich said, “Well, show him this. It’s a sure bet.” He straightened up and said, “Scout, friend.”
    Scout immediately sat down and lifted a paw.
    “That’s great!” I said. “Does he know any other commands?”
    “I think all the regular ones—sit, stay, come, down. Jake told me he trained him right from a puppy. Said he didn’t like unruly dogs—especially big ones.”
    “That has to work in Scout’s favor, right?”
    “I’d say it probably does.” He grinned at me. “If not, you have a bit of sweet-talking to do tonight. Somehow, I get the feeling that between you and Scout there, that husband of yours doesn’t stand a chance.”
    Rich waved good-bye and disappeared back through the gate into his yard. I locked up the house and opened the passenger side of the truck. Scout jumped in as if we’d done this a million times.
    “Okay, my furry friend, you’re going to meet the real alpha dog in this outfit. Best be on your most adorable behavior, ’cause el Perro Patron’s got mucho grande power in this county.”
    With the nonchalant confidence so reminiscent of his unmet competition, he licked his lips and yawned.

    I WAS SITTING cross-legged on the sofa mentally rehearsing my explanation when Gabe burst through the front door at a little past four-thirty.
    “Sorry, I’m late. I got hung up on ...” He was stopped dead in his tracks by Scout’s raised hackles and low growl.
    “Scout, no,” I said quickly, surprised at his instant protectiveness.
    The dog continued to growl.
    Gabe scowled and took a step forward.
    Scout’s rumble deepened.
    I jumped up and grabbed Scout’s collar. “Scout, stop.”
    The look on my husband’s face became darker. Then I remembered what Rich had told me.
    “Scout, friend.”
    The dog immediately sat down and lifted a paw.
    Gabe frowned at the dog. Scout continued to offer his paw.
    “Better shake it, or who knows what he’ll do,” I said.
    Gabe cautiously walked over and shook it. Scout immediately licked his hand, and Gabe’s face softened.