As it turned out, I had guessed incorrectly. The announcer introduced the men, and Teo was the laid-back handler with the beautiful black dog. I was glad.

In the next minutes the deputies put all the dogs through basics using equipment set up on the field. They ran them through long pipes, up ladders, across what looked like balance beams, and over hurdles the dogs hardly seemed to notice. Then the fun began. Another deputy in a padded suit came out on the field, and one by one the K9 team issued commands to their dogs to take the guy down. I was entranced at how perfectly each dog obeyed, but I was most entranced by Teo and Bismarck, who worked as a perfect team. When signaled, Bismarck stopped just feet from his prey and waited for Teo’s command. They clearly trusted each other and worked with efficient grace.

The dogs leaped for arms and hung from the suit, their teeth clamped there like bizarre Christmas ornaments. I watched the dogs take the suited man to the ground when he tried to run. By the end of the half hour, I was sure I never wanted to do anything that would lead to being singled out by any of the three teams.

Afterward I waited until most of the crowd was heading back to their cars before I went down on the field to talk to Teo. His dog was romping with another, chasing tennis balls one of the other deputies tossed for them. Up close Teo did resemble his photo, but he was one of those men photos would never accurately capture. His hair was dark, and his eyes were darker. I thought his family might have come to the US from Cuba, although later I learned his great-grandparents on both sides had been born in Puerto Rico. The grin I’d rated as cocky was more accurately defined as captivating, a point somewhere between warm and seductive.

It also seemed possible that the seductive part wasn’t something he turned on for just anybody.

“You look the way you sound,” he said, holding out his hand after I introduced myself.

“How’s that?”

He smiled. “Tio Teo. Catchy.”

Not only had he nailed my voice perfectly, he’d remembered exactly what I’d said. My cheeks warmed. “I bet you do whole routines.”

“Your voice is memorable. Low, musical.” He paused. “Sensual.”

We shook. His hand swallowed mine, although he wasn’t a large man, like his show-off colleague. Teo was taller than average, broad-shouldered and long-limbed but trim, like a runner. I knew he had to be strong to do what he did, but I knew he would also be fast.

“The dimples are a great addition to the voice,” he said as he dropped my hand.

I tried not to melt. “You have time to be interviewed now?”

Bismarck was circling toward us, and the tennis balls were back in the other deputy’s pocket, his dog on a leash now. Teo said something that sounded like it was in German, and Bismarck trotted to his side and sat.