He dives in front of me, knocking into my leg with his huge body. It actually hurts a little when this big dog knocks into you. We walk to the window together, and I pull back the light linen curtain.
It’s not a squirrel.
It’s a man.
He’s dressed in all black, with a hammer in his hand. He’s literally standing at my front door, hammer poised to shove into the door frame. He hasn’t seen me yet.
Cold panic slices through me in one instant. In the next, fear.
Arko’s growl becomes a bark that’s so menacing, it only triples the fear that courses through my veins. He sounds straight up diabolical. Like a monster straight out of a terrifying nightmare.
The man jumps, turning. We make eye contact. He grimaces and lunges toward the window. Toward me. I scream. Arko reacts.
Glass shatters.
My eyes squeeze shut and the next thing I realize is that Arko isn’t barking anymore. He’s chasing the man off the porch. He’s also holding back, because the dog I know runs faster than that when he’s chasing squirrels. This is a warning, an action to deescalate the problem. Arko chases the man all the way back to his truck.
Finally, my common sense kicks in, shoving aside a tiny bit of the fear that’s overwhelming me. I’ve got a clear view of the guy’s license plate. I recite it out loud over and over as I run back to the living room and get my phone to call 911. I tell them the truck’s make and model and the license plate number.
They say they’re sending an officer over. Arko walks back into the house—through the front door that I open for him—looking quite pleased with himself.
I collapse to the floor and squeeze him in a hug while we wait for the police. I feel all over his body but the glass window this crazy dog literally jumped through did not hurt him one bit.
“You’re my hero,” I tell him.
Then I call Jett.
Chapter 22
Jett
There’s nothing quite like getting to your house and finding the police there. This is now the second time I’ve had to race home to my wife and child after something traumatic happened, and I am not a fan of this at all. At least this time the house is okay, and this time I was only ten minutes away from them.
Keanna meets me on the porch. I grab her in a hug.
”Careful,” she says, “There’s glass everywhere.”
”I can see that.”
The large window in the living room is gone, leaving a gaping hole in the wall.
“Arko dove through the glass?” I ask, still in disbelief that a dog could do that.
She nods. “It was like something out of an action movie.”
”And he’s okay?”
”Yep. I checked him all over and he doesn’t have any cuts or anything.”
”Where’s Harper?”
”Still asleep in her bed,” she says, nodding toward the house. “I’ve checked on her twice. She has no idea anything is happening.”
”That’s good.”
The police approach us. I know the one on the left because his daughter rides dirt bikes at The Track. He shakes my hand. “Our suspect is being arrested as we speak.”
”Wow, you caught him that fast?” I say.
