endeavors.
The truth, in fact, was that he had worked with bomb
sniffing German Shepherds in combat and non-combat situations in Kuwait. He
trained, handled and ultimately was deployed in the field with these dogs. He
referred to himself as a military dog handler when asked by those close to him.
“The county has arranged to take care of your hospital
bills.” Kate slid an official form across the desk toward him. “Just sign on
the dotted line. Press hard, it’s in triplicate.”
“Thank you,” said Josh sliding the form back at Kate.
“It’s not necessary. I have health insurance and I never get the chance to use
it. I might as well get something for all those premiums I pay,” laughed Josh.
“Are you certain? All I have to do is send this form
over to the hospital and everything will be taken care of.”
“I’m sure it will. But let’s keep the taxpayers from
footing this bill.”
“Then let me extend my official thank you from the
sheriff’s department and the citizens of Graham County for helping us.”
“For getting in the way of flying debris?”
The injured man raised the arm cast and beamed
broadly.
“And the broken bones,” added Kate, returning the
smile.
“Your thanks is officially noted and accepted,” said
Josh.
“Fair enough.”
Sheriff Hanks walked past Deputy Steele’s office and
stuck his head in the doorway, interrupting what was quickly becoming a
flirtatious encounter.
“How you feeling, Josh?” asked Zeb.
“Doing all right,” replied Josh. “Even better now.”
Zeb looked at his old friend, looked at his deputy and
looked back at Josh.
“What are you doing here?”
“Reporting a crime.”
“You’ve only been out of the hospital for a couple of
hours,” said Zeb. “What’s happened?”
“While I was looking for bombs and getting patched up
in the hospital, somebody broke into my store. Five handguns, a fair amount of
ammunition, some merchandise and a personal item, a flak jacket, were stolen.
I made a complete list of the missing items. The guns are all registered to
the store. I need you to come check it out. I already left a message with the
Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms. They told me to talk to you. Here is
the list of what is missing.”
“The ATF was here yesterday looking at the bomb site
at the grade school. They are still around. I imagine they will add the
break-in at your store to their list of work to do.”
Josh nodded and handed a meticulously typed note to
the sheriff. He briefly studied the list, handed it to his deputy and glanced
back at his friend. With his hand in the cast, he must have pecked the list
out one key at a time. The stolen handguns included four .38’s and a .22. The
ammunition included 24 boxes of one hundred count NyClad HP for the .38’s and
one 250-count box of .22 cartridges. The holsters were a special type of
military issue that each held two guns, shoulder variety. The flak jacket was
standard police issue. The gun cleaning kit was top of the line, Otis Elite.
“You have an alarm system. How did they bypass that?”
“I do. And it was armed. But ultimately it didn’t
make any difference.”
“What do you mean?” asked Zeb.
“Somebody used a bolt cutter on the padlock on the
electrical box. They cut the wires to the alarm system and to my cameras.”
Zeb immediately assumed the job was done by a
professional. Very likely it was somebody from out of town as he would know
any locals with that kind of skill and mindset.
“What do you make of the specific stolen weapons? Are
any of them antiques or collectibles?” asked Zeb.
“No,” replied Josh. “From the looks of it someone
knew exactly what they were after. They passed over many more expensive guns
to get to the ones they took. My guess is, five handguns and that much ammo,
it isn’t about collecting.”
“You’re probably right about
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