were flat this morning, man.”
“You drive through a construction zone or something?”
“Nah, there was nothing in them. More like someone let the air out. I had to air them back up.” He half hung out the window to talk to me as I walked past. “Then dumbass over here, his alarm didn’t go off.” Will, sitting in the front passenger seat, winced as Marty punched him in the shoulder (I’m guessing not for the first time).
“Well, maybe we’re getting all the bad luck out of the way at the beginning, hmm?” I swung the back doors open wide and was greeted by a giant muzzle full of slobbering wet tongue. “Gah!”
Duke, Marty’s behemoth of an English mastiff, slurped up my cheek and wiggled in happiness so hard that the entire truck shook. “Marty! What’s the monster doing here?” It was almost impossible to defend myself with my hands full, so I got drenched again as I was tossing my backpack in with the rest of the gear. “Ugh, off! Sit, Duke!”
Obediently, the brindle mastiff sat, and the springs on the truck jounced a little.
Marty turned around to holler over the seats. “Mel was trying to walk him last night, and he accidentally knocked her down. I didn’t think it was safe to leave her alone with him, in her condition.”
Now, that may sound like Duke is some slavering machine of destruction, but in reality he was the biggest teddy bear I’d ever seen. He let Annabelle ride him, for Pete’s sake. But I could totally see how the big lummox could barrel over someone in his affectionate enthusiasm. He’d be totally devastated if he realized he’d hurt someone. He was just that kinda dog.
“Why’d he knock her down?” It took some doing, but I got a very enthusiastic Duke shoehorned back inside and managed to shut the doors.
Marty fired up the old diesel engine and backed out of my drive. “She said he was after a squirrel.”
Duke’s breath was hot on the back of my neck as I tried to get settled in the middle seat. “Your dog’s afraid of squirrels, man.” And birds, and mice, and thunder, and his own shadow . . .
“Maybe he’s growing up on me.”
“Dude, if he gets any bigger, I’m planting a flag on him and claiming him in the name of Spain.”
We managed to pick up Cole without incident, and he brought with him a thermos of police-station sludge, otherwise known as his self-brewed coffee. We all politely declined and tried to ignore the distinctive aroma of scorched coffee beans that filled the truck. (I swear, I caught Duke pawing at his nose and whining.)
Last on the list to fetch was Cam-short-for-Cameron, and while the guys decided to rearrange the packs in the back to make room for one more, I was elected to go up and fetch the ex-priest. Ex-almost-priest? Whatever.
The apartment building was one of a dozen similar buildings within view, one of those identical little enclaves where I was certain people walked into the wrong apartment all the time by mistake. It was a place for college students, recent newlyweds (I should know, I’d been one once), and itinerate drug dealers. Cheap, easy to get in, easy to abandon.
Of course, Cameron’s apartment was on the fourth floor, and there was no elevator. I hiked up the four flights of stairs, grumbling under my breath and watching the chipped concrete under my boots warily. If one of those steps gave way, the rusted-out railing wasn’t going to save me. When was the last time this place had even seen a maintenance man?
There was no door marked 4D, but I took a chance and knocked on the blank door across from 4C. I was ready for anything when the door opened, but thankfully, it was just Cameron.
His smile looked almost relieved. “I was starting to worry about you guys.”
“Yeah, Marty had some car trouble.” Cam stepped back and I took that as an invitation to come on inside.
I crossed the threshold and almost tripped over my own two feet in surprise. Tiny prickles rose up on my skin as I passed through the
“You drive through a construction zone or something?”
“Nah, there was nothing in them. More like someone let the air out. I had to air them back up.” He half hung out the window to talk to me as I walked past. “Then dumbass over here, his alarm didn’t go off.” Will, sitting in the front passenger seat, winced as Marty punched him in the shoulder (I’m guessing not for the first time).
“Well, maybe we’re getting all the bad luck out of the way at the beginning, hmm?” I swung the back doors open wide and was greeted by a giant muzzle full of slobbering wet tongue. “Gah!”
Duke, Marty’s behemoth of an English mastiff, slurped up my cheek and wiggled in happiness so hard that the entire truck shook. “Marty! What’s the monster doing here?” It was almost impossible to defend myself with my hands full, so I got drenched again as I was tossing my backpack in with the rest of the gear. “Ugh, off! Sit, Duke!”
Obediently, the brindle mastiff sat, and the springs on the truck jounced a little.
Marty turned around to holler over the seats. “Mel was trying to walk him last night, and he accidentally knocked her down. I didn’t think it was safe to leave her alone with him, in her condition.”
Now, that may sound like Duke is some slavering machine of destruction, but in reality he was the biggest teddy bear I’d ever seen. He let Annabelle ride him, for Pete’s sake. But I could totally see how the big lummox could barrel over someone in his affectionate enthusiasm. He’d be totally devastated if he realized he’d hurt someone. He was just that kinda dog.
“Why’d he knock her down?” It took some doing, but I got a very enthusiastic Duke shoehorned back inside and managed to shut the doors.
Marty fired up the old diesel engine and backed out of my drive. “She said he was after a squirrel.”
Duke’s breath was hot on the back of my neck as I tried to get settled in the middle seat. “Your dog’s afraid of squirrels, man.” And birds, and mice, and thunder, and his own shadow . . .
“Maybe he’s growing up on me.”
“Dude, if he gets any bigger, I’m planting a flag on him and claiming him in the name of Spain.”
We managed to pick up Cole without incident, and he brought with him a thermos of police-station sludge, otherwise known as his self-brewed coffee. We all politely declined and tried to ignore the distinctive aroma of scorched coffee beans that filled the truck. (I swear, I caught Duke pawing at his nose and whining.)
Last on the list to fetch was Cam-short-for-Cameron, and while the guys decided to rearrange the packs in the back to make room for one more, I was elected to go up and fetch the ex-priest. Ex-almost-priest? Whatever.
The apartment building was one of a dozen similar buildings within view, one of those identical little enclaves where I was certain people walked into the wrong apartment all the time by mistake. It was a place for college students, recent newlyweds (I should know, I’d been one once), and itinerate drug dealers. Cheap, easy to get in, easy to abandon.
Of course, Cameron’s apartment was on the fourth floor, and there was no elevator. I hiked up the four flights of stairs, grumbling under my breath and watching the chipped concrete under my boots warily. If one of those steps gave way, the rusted-out railing wasn’t going to save me. When was the last time this place had even seen a maintenance man?
There was no door marked 4D, but I took a chance and knocked on the blank door across from 4C. I was ready for anything when the door opened, but thankfully, it was just Cameron.
His smile looked almost relieved. “I was starting to worry about you guys.”
“Yeah, Marty had some car trouble.” Cam stepped back and I took that as an invitation to come on inside.
I crossed the threshold and almost tripped over my own two feet in surprise. Tiny prickles rose up on my skin as I passed through the
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