Craig squatted to examine the embedded bristles. The animal's curiosity had pushed him beyond caution. The face full of quills—a nasty lesson learned. Porcupines were best left alone.

Murmuring to the shaggy white canine, Craig positioned the adjustable light and peered into the Maremma's face. The dog's whimper made Craig's decision easy. "I'll have to put him under for a few minutes. The depth and quantity make it tough to handle without a tranquilizer. I'd be causing him a lot of pain otherwise. What's his name?" Turning, Craig looked at the owner for the first time.

Sarah Slocum.

Well. That explained Julie's initial hesitance, the concern he'd heard when his assistant summoned him. But his veterinary partner had left for the day and Craig was here. That left no choice but to treat Sarah's dog.

Her face washed pale under rich tones. Eyes as dark and deep as the dog's stayed trained on the beast's muzzle. She didn't make eye contact with Craig. "Gino. From Sofia's last litter." She emitted a half sigh, half shudder as the dog whined. She stepped forward, crooning, her melodic tone soothing the animal much as a mother would a small child.

Julie watched as if expecting him to do—what? Scream? Shout? Berate the woman before him for her genealogy and refuse to treat her dog?

He wouldn't do that. But his medical duties didn't mean he had to go out of his way to be nice, either.

There was a reason he avoided Slocums. A real good one. The thought of the crim