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Nutsbe kicked his bag and a water bottle rolled out. He moved toward the judge's feet and washed his hands, then dried them on the drool towel strapped to the bungee cord on Beowolf’s work vest. “Good boy. That’s my good boy.” Nutsbe patted his side, then scratched his ears.
Nutsbe’s steadiness through all of this helped Olivia immeasurably.
He handed the half-empty bottle and towel to Olivia and said. “For cleaning up. I have another one for you to swish your mouth out.” He turned to Beowolf, waiting patiently like the best of the good doggos. “Beowolf, follow.”
With his supply bag looped over his arm, Nutsbe crawled past the judge’s head to an area with enough space to put his back to a bumper. There he sat with his knees bent, catching his breath.
Beowolf padded over to Olivia, sniffed her over, and then gave her a swipe of his tongue before lying down at Nutsbe’s feet. She noticed he was no longer watching the condominium’s parking garage, and Olivia assumed the shooter was gone.
Reaching into his bag, Nutsbe drew a water bottle out and handed it over.
Olivia duck-walked farther away between the cars, filled her mouth, and spat. A few more swishes and the water tasted less sweet in comparison to the bitter bilious puke that had filled her mouth. Her nervous system began to reset.
When she waddled back toward Nutsbe—her suit skirt stretched tight against her thighs—he had a roll of mints in his open hand.
She glanced toward the judge. Reflective emergency blankets made him look like a baked potato. “Wow.” It was the only thing Olivia could think to say.
“You did awesome. I am so proud of you.”
She shook her head as she popped a mint in her mouth. “Do you think the first responders are on the way over to us?”
“Not yet. They’re looking for the shooter.”
“But he’s gone, right?” she asked.
“My guess.”
Olivia cast her gaze around. Not that she could see anything but cars.
“You can either hunker in or run for it,” Nutsbe said. “Your call.”
Olivia focused on Judge Greenway. “You could get the judge out of here?” That didn’t seem probable. He was a big guy, and it had taken both Nutsbe and Beowolf to drag him. Olivia felt terrible for not helping. But Nutsbe had asked her not to, and there was probably a good reason.
“I’ll stay with the judge. You need to do the thing that is best for you.”
“I’m not running for it.” She plopped onto her butt, sending him a quivering smile. “I like having these engine blocks near me.”
Nutsbe grinned. “You did learn a thing or two as a prosecutor.”
“This is a strange experience.”
“Yeah, I have to say, I’ve never been shot at in a public parking lot by a sniper before.”
“Snarky.” Olivia laughed. “I like that.”
“You doing okay?”
“I could use a bathroom.” She pulled her legs out from underneath her and stretched them long. Her knees were scraped like an elementary school kid taking a tumble off their scooter. Her shoes were over by her car. She’d come out of them when Beowolf dragged her to this side of the parking lot. Olivia leaned over and kissed Beowolf. “You’re my hero, too. Thank you for protecting me.”
Beowolf moved his head onto her lap, lifting first one brow, then the other endearingly. Olivia stroked her hand over the smoosh of his wrinkled forehead.
Nutsbe checked his watch, doing a pulse count on the judge. He lifted the phone and said all the right things—respiration, color, lack of responsiveness.
“We’re safe now, don’t you think?” Olivia asked.
“I think that depends on the goal,” Nutsbe said.
It was not what she wanted to hear.
