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Which meant we were all now on our best behavior until this particular situation blew over.
“Alright, alright,” I said, letting Mocha out of the car. “You have to wear a leash, though. Dog park rules.”
If dogs could glare, she’d have done it when I put her leash on.
“What are we doing?” Luke asked.
I pointed to the dog park. “Let Mocha play. Ask some questions. See if anyone’s heard about the bait dogs that keep showing up dead all over Kilgore.”
“You’re not just going to go out there and ask that, are you?” He wondered as we started towards the gated area where the dogs were allowed to play.
I shook my head and gave him a telling glance.
Luke grinned but didn’t say anything either.
We worked well together, even though we didn’t get to do it often anymore since he’d become the assistant chief.
More often than not, he was chained to a desk except for when we had SWAT training or a SWAT call we needed to go on.
There were those rare days, though, that he got to get out and play with the big boys.
“Have you heard from your girl?” Luke asked.
I sighed.
I knew Luke meant well, but it was obvious he wasn’t taking the hint of ‘I don’t want to talk about it.’
“No. She hasn’t called,” I said.
He was silent for a few minutes before he asked, hesitantly, “Did you give her your number?”
I stopped in my tracks, wondering if I had given her my number.
Had I?
Luke turned and his eyes were wide. “You’ve been whining for two whole days about her not calling you and you haven’t even given her your number?”
My mouth worked like a fish. “Goddamn, I’m an idiot.”
He laughed and we started walking.
Handing Mocha’s leash over to Luke I pulled my phone out of my pocket just as we reached the gates.
I pulled up the number I’d programmed in my phone the night the wall fell and typed out a text message.
Downy: Everything okay? –-D
The reply was instantaneous.
Memphis: Mom had what they think was a mild seizure, but they can’t figure out what caused it, and the only thing they’re telling us, after her cat scan is to use precaution when driving.
Memphis: This is Downy, right?
I smiled at the phone and replied before I shoved it back in my pocket.
Downy: Good. Yes. That wasn’t a dick. D=Downy. Let me know if you need me.
“You’re smiling like a woman,” Luke taunted me.
I shoved him with my shoulder and took Mocha’s leash back before unsnapping it from her collar. “Alright, psycho. Go play.”
Luke snorted at my use of ‘psycho.’
It’d been her new name ever since Memphis had left. It was as if Mocha had forgotten that she was a trained police dog.
She darted across the field like she was shot out of a gun. Her legs ate up the ground fast as she ran all the way to the end of the fence and started to come back.
“Jesus, what do you feed that dog?” Luke asked, shaking his head.
“Jet Fuel,” I quipped.
An amused snort came from our right where there was an older lady sitting on the bench with two dogs at her feet.
“My dogs used to do that, too, before they got to be older. That one looks like it’s still a baby,” the old woman said.
I smiled at her, pulling out my Southern Charm.
“She’s not a baby. She’s an adult. That’s just how she’s been since I’ve gotten her. Ninety or nothing,” I told her.
She smiled. “Those are the best kind, my boy.”
My eyes widened and I looked at Luke. I was pretty sure she wasn’t talking about the dog anymore, but the woman was freakin’ old. I didn’t even look at her as a ‘woman’ anymore. She was more like an asexual creature that I refused to even think about in that kind of light.
“Are these your dogs?” I asked, gesturing to the two at her feet.
She nodded and pointed across the field. “That one’s mine, too.”
She’d indicated a dog that Mocha was playing with. A Doberman Pincher.
My mind traveled back to the night I’d seen Memphis nearly get attacked by the dog, and I shuddered.
That’d been close. Too close.
That night, I’d gotten out of my truck and was excited to find her outside.
I hadn’t been able to see her, nor the dog, until she’d made it past the building, and what I’d seen had nearly gutted me.
My heart had been pounding, and I prayed that she’d stay still.
She hadn’t, and I’d had to think quickly.
My gun was in my hand before I’d even realized what I’d needed to do.
I’d taken aim and fired as soon as the dog’s body had bunched in readiness to strike.
My aim had been true, but Memphis hadn’t been aware of anything.
She’d been lost in her own personal nightmare, remembering back to when she was twelve years old and a dog she’d known all her life had torn into her like a stranger. A Doberman pincher.
The old lady’s dog was beautiful, stunning really.
However, I didn’t think I could ever look at one again and not see the beveled flesh at the back of Memphis’ neck, and the puckered scar to the right of her hipbone that denoted where the bullet had entered her skin.
The one, she told me, that her dad’s best friend had made while killing the dog right in front of her.
“Downy!” Luke growled.
I blinked and turned to find Luke looking at me expectantly.
“What?” I asked, raising my brow in question.
He tilted his head down to the old woman.
She smiled at me and said, “I asked if you’d heard anything about the dogs that keep going missing here.”
I turned my head slightly and furrowed my brows. “Dogs have been going missing from here?”
She nodded. “Yes. They’re taking dogs from here. Five of them, so far. There’s been one a week since the first one was taken. You didn’t know that? The owners said they reported it.”
I shook my head. “No. Well, that’s not entirely true. We’ve heard about the string of family pets going missing, but we hadn’t heard that there’d been so many coming from here.”
