“Any dietary changes? Maybe he ingested something?”
“Not that I’m aware of,” Marion said.
Dr. Mitchell palpated Atlas’s abdomen. “No tenderness. Temperature’s normal.”
Marion frowned. “But he’s definitely off… started last night.”
I noted the timing. Same window. Same vague onset as Harold’s dog.
Dr. Mitchell studied him a moment longer. “Odd. Clinically, he looks fine.”
“He isn’t,” Marion insisted.
“I’d like to run a quick blood panel,” she said. “It’ll only take a few minutes.”
“Of course,” Marion replied smoothly.
She clipped a lead onto Atlas’s collar and guided him past the privacy divider.
Once we were alone, Marion leaned back against the counter, arms folded casually. He didn’t look worried at all.
“So,” he said lightly, “is this John’s first show? He doesn’t seem very used to handling.”
“We’ve both been on the circuit,” I replied evenly.
“Have you?” He raised an eyebrow. “I don’t recall seeing either of you before this season. I tend to remember the competition.”
“I’ve been in it longer. He only started running dogs with me after we got married.”
“Married,” he repeated. “Right, must have slipped my mind.”
“We share the same last name,” I said flatly.
“Plenty of reasons for that,” he waved off. He glanced at Dr. Mitchell, who stepped in and out quickly with a clipboard, clearly eager to avoid our conversation.
Marion chuckled. “When I first saw you two, it didn’t exactly scream marital bliss. You looked like you didn’t even want to be in the same room.”
“You just caught us at a bad moment,” I said with a thin smile.
“Fair enough.” He lifted his hands in mock surrender. “But don’t get me wrong. I admire your handling. I can’t believe I haven’t heard of you before. As for your husband… well, he has potential. But in the heats the other day?—”
“What about it?”
“He hesitated,” Marion said mildly. “Just for a second. That kind of doubt costs time.”
“He didn’t hesitate,” I said, jaw tightening.
“Perhaps. But I used to run with a partner,” Marion said slowly. “High-stakes shows like these, it just takes one bad fight, one tense moment, and a run’s lost. After that, I learned not to mix romance with competition. All I’m saying is… it’s risky. Especially if one of you isn’t fully committed. I wouldn’t want someone chickening out when it matters.”
Heat flared up my spine. What did he know? What did any of them know?
Chris and his entire family had moved to Pecan Pines to build something there. He was at the sheriff’s office right now digging for answers while I stood here, playing polite.
And this man, this smug, observant?—
Before I could stop myself, I spoke, keeping my tone even despite the heat rising in me. “You may think my partner is some inexperienced wannabe riding on his husband’s coattails,” I said. “And yes, he can be overenthusiastic. But I trust him. Fully.”
Marion studied me for a long moment, something unreadable flickering in his eyes. “I hope that works out for you.”
