Boomer rubbed at his jaw. “My dog is in my car. I don’t see it working. Do you?”

“If your dog is as aggressive as he looks, then, no, I don’t see it working. My dog is just very protective. I suppose I could follow you in my car with my dog. Or we can reschedule for another time.” She smiled when she saw Atlas react to her tone of voice and nose Boomer back two steps until he had to step down to the third step from the porch.

“Let me get Ozzie and see how these two guys act toward each other before we make any hasty decisions.” He reached into his pocket for a small remote. He clicked it. The door opened, and the police dog charged up to his master and skidded to a stop. Both dogs eyed each other, their tails dropping down between their legs. Atlas’s ears went flat against his head as he sniffed the interloper, who was also busy trying to sniff out his adversary.

Cady took a step forward just as Boomer lifted his foot to step up to the porch for a more secure footing. Both dogs moved at once, each taking a position in front of their masters. If her intention had been to reach for Boomer’s arm, the dog would have sprung. Atlas showed her he would have done the same thing. She started to laugh. “Your dog doesn’t want me near you, and mine doesn’t want you near me. I think it’s going to be a little difficult for us to go to dinner. What’s your opinion?”

Boomer guffawed. “The same as yours. He’s never done this before. Maybe you’re wearing something he doesn’t like. Dogs are sensitive to smells.”

“Are you saying I stink?” Cady asked, sudden indignation ringing in her voice. “I guess you must be wearing the same thing then, because Atlas is acting the same way about you.”

“No. Jesus, no, that’s not…how could you think…what I meant was…”

“What you meant was your dog doesn’t like the way I smell; therefore, I stink.” Indignation continued to ring in Cady’s voice when she said, “I’m wearing French perfume. Expensive French perfume, and it does not stink. I think maybe your dog has smelled too many lowlife, smelly criminals and whatever else you use him to sniff out, so he can no longer appreciate the finer things in life. My own dog, as you can see, has no problem with how I smell. I don’t think he cares how you smell, he just doesn’t like you. Period.”

Boomer ran his hands through his hair. “We’re having a fight, and we didn’t even get off the porch. You were a scrapper back when we were kids. I see that hasn’t changed.”

“You were a bully back then, and I see you haven’t changed either,” Cady snapped in return.

“Touché,” Boomer said.

Only God in his infinite wisdom knew what happened next. Cady reached for Atlas’s collar, and Boomer moved slightly forward. The dogs went wild in an instant. Cady felt like her dress was being ripped from her body as Atlas sprang forward to lunge upward, slamming Boomer backward against one of the white pillars holding up the verandah. He clamped his teeth on one of Boomer’s ears and hung on.