Rachel Alexander 03 - A Hell of a Dog

whisper. “I think some of our participants, the less successful ones, actually believe they would reap the benefits if a competitor were”—she paused and tucked some hair behind one ear—“out of the way. As if that would make the work fall to them. Do you know what I mean?” I nodded.
    “From where I sit, I can guarantee you, there’s plenty of money to go around. It’s not some other trainer who’s stopping any of them from making it. It’s only themselves. But that’s not the way they think, Rachel. The venom between some of these people is unbelievable. This is where you come in.”
    “They did agree to work together, didn’t they?”
    “Yes and no.”
    “Meaning?”
    “I never did tell them who else would be there.”
    “How did you get away with that ?”
    “Each time I called someone, even the first of them, when they asked who else had agreed to attend, I said, ‘Don’t even ask. I don’t have the time to read you the list. Just assume everyone will be there.’ Then I apologized for getting to them last, mea culpa, terrible oversight, would they ever forgive me?”
    “Didn’t any of them pressure you?” I knew from personal experience how dogged trainers can be.
    “For sure. Marty Eliot said he wouldn’t commit until I told him whether or not Bucky would be there, because he knew if Bucky had agreed, there’d be lots of great PR. So I said, ‘What do you think?’ ”
    I didn’t think Bucky would wipe his ass if the press weren’t present to record it, but I took a sip of wine instead of saying so.
    “Point of fact, Bucky’s arranged for TV coverage for the last day, for a five-part PBS special. But I saved that tidbit, in case I needed additional artillery to convince any of them. The funny thing is, I never had to use it.”
    “You’re shameless.”
    “I know. I let them jump to their own conclusions.” She grinned, a lady who was used to peering down at the rest of us from the catbird seat. “It worked for me ,” she added. “This way had another advantage. I didn’t have to listen to all that stuff you know, mention a competitor’s name and you hear, ‘Why are you having him there? He’s so overrated,’ or ‘Her? You mean she’s still alive?’ You know what I mean, don’t you? After all, you were one of them, in a manner of speaking.”
    “Well—”
    “Of course, you weren’t like that. But some of them. The funny thing is, they all pretend to love and admire each other. At least, at first. They’re loath to appear to be as small and petty as they actually are,” she said, taking another sip of wine. “It’s a riot when you know the truth. The other thing I had working for me was that they don’t want vie for an enemy. I’ve been booking these people for seminars all over the U.S. and Canada for years, making them a fortune. These are people not only promoting their methods, they’re selling their books, pushing videos, gadgets, special collars and leashes, whatever. Some of the stuff is far out. One of them—oh, you’ll see. Do they want me to stop booking them? They most certainly do not.”
    I smiled.
    Sam pulled out her appointment calendar, which looked as if it needed die services of Weight Watchers, and kept going.
    “I need your attention elsewhere, so I put you down for the opening talk on the last day, forty-five minutes. Give me a topic.” When I didn’t respond, she looked up. “Frank was right, Rachel. You are the right person for the job. So, a topic?”
    “How about an explanation of alpha as it applies to behavior and training?”
    “Super,” she said, grinning at me. She uncapped her pen. “We’ll call it ‘Who’s in Charge Here Anyway?’ I have you down for two of the panels as well. No preparation required. Someone asks a question. You answer it. Piece of cake.”
    When most people tell you something is no work, what they are really saying is that it’s worth no money, which is exactly what they’re planning to pay you. I felt a surge of preparatory adrenaline.
    “How does this sound?” she asked. “Five for your talk, two for each panel, and of course your customary fee for private investigation work, which is?” she said, looking up.
    I told her. Her eyes registered no sign of surprise. She was clearly a woman who didn’t mind paying for whatever it was she decided she wanted.
    “Done. And, as an added bonus, you’ll get to meet four of the seven self-designated ‘dog trainers to the stars.’ I had