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He sat down, keeping his eyes on the ground, knowing that the dog would feel safer if he didn’t makeeye contact.
Speaking in a calming voice, he continued feeding treats while explaining why he needed to trust him. When all the treats were gone but one, Kane offered it up to him in the palm of his hand.
“We’ve both been through the wars,” Kane had said, nice and relaxed and without any of the strain he had felt. “So I’d like to keep my fingers. If you take this treat from me, I promise you’ll have many more in your future, but you’ve got to trust me. I won’t let anyone hurt you ever again.”
Bud had whined at him, scared and unsure what was happening. He retreated further into his kennel, but when Kane didn’t move, he lowered his snout to his hand and took up the treat delicately.
In that tiny but momentous moment — and for the first time in his life — Kane had felt the beginnings of real love.
He adopted him, naming him Bud, and proceeded to win his trust.
Within a year, Bud had blossomed, but Kane had felt there was more to his dog than had been utilized. He was smart — almost human smart — and nothing made him happier than to please his owner.
He took them both to a specialist training school where Bud had aced the classes, head and shoulders above the rest of his classmates.
After that, Kane had read every book, watched every video on YouTube. He’d trained Bud in his own unique way, the two of them forming a kind of shorthand with signals and verbal commands until Kane couldn’t imagine life without the mutt now.
Even if he did have bad breath.
Bud snorted in his sleep, paws paddling the air as he dreamed of chasing after critters. Kane turned away from his dog to study the house through professional eyes.
The double-height front door was imposing with sturdy locks that wouldn’t be easy for a criminal to crack, though they didn’t often opt to enter in such an obvious manner. A line of twelve-foot-tall windows flanked the door, leading all the way around to the back of the house — where there would be more of those windows, no doubt.
Windows were a problem, though not so much from the fear of being smashed. Houses like this didn’t scrimp on materials so he was ninety-nine percent sure that they would have smash-proof glass. But that didn’t stop a wide-zoom lens or binoculars from invading a property, particularly if curtains and blinds weren’t drawn at night — something he knew the wealthy seemed never to do, as if their fame and fortune made them untouchable.
Clearly the Rockefellers were learning differently now.
The second floor was a good deal above ground, but with several balconies and terraces potentially providing weak points, security cameras would need to be erected to cover every possible point of entry.
He noted down where they were in the dictaphone he carried around for such things. The digital file would be sent to Clara later who would use software to transcribe his findings as Kane wasn’t much for computers.
Preliminary survey done, he leaned over and stroked Bud’s stomach. The dog’s eyes flew open.
“Time to work, fella.”
“Woof!”Bud answered, yawning and blowing out a mouthful of doggy breath.
“We’ve gotta do something about that breath of yours though.”
Bud made a sound that was suspiciously like a “no.”
They got out of his truck. Several cars were parked in front of the Rockefellers’ house, though judging by the companies, they most likely belonged to the visiting security firms, trolling for business as Wilson had warned.
He walked briskly up the drive, Bud padding alongside. His eyes swept the area, noting down everydetail. Even Bud had his work face on, head high, nose sniffing the air in all directions.
Gravel crunched underfoot, causing Kane to wince.
He didn’t want to announce their presence. Much of what he was doing now relied on not being detected until he was ready for it. He watched Bud for signs that his paws were bothered by the gravel but the dog was fine, happy to be working if the tail wagging from side to side was any indication.
When they were twenty or so feet from the house, a man came out wearing a designer suit and carrying a briefcase. Kane ducked behind a stone statue, signaling for Bud to do the same. They waited, hiding in place as the man cursed under his breath, but loud enough that Kane could hear him. He got into one of the parked cars, making a call. The car roared off, wheels churning as Kane overheard the man complaining that the family were a nightmare to please.
Great. Another difficult client. Just what he needed.
Wilson would owe him big time for this.
A security guard emerged, doing a lap around the property, but he was easy enough to evade. The man was yammering away on his hands-free phone on what was obviously a personal call.
Kane noted that down, too.
