The paddy wagon stopped in front of her. The driver was looking at her in the headlights. She forced herself to keep her eyes straight ahead, tasted adrenaline.
The officer stepped out of the vehicle. Ronnie swore. She rolled her window halfway down. Water poured in, soaking the inside of the door.
The officer shone a light on her.
“What are you doing, Peterson?”
She stopped breathing.It’s Madonna now, and you know it…
The officer shone the torch into the passenger seat. “Running a dog-walking business now, are we?”
She swallowed. Brad Collins. She had met him when she was a freakishly tall teen with orthodontics who liked to partyin the wrong part of town and fall asleep in random places. He had given her rides home on dark and stormy nights like this. Why was he in Tinaroo? Last time she checked he still worked for Lionheart. Solid man. Married. Three kids around Rainbow’s age. Nice guy. Too nice.
“Relax,” he said. “How about this weather?”
The light turned off. She glanced in his direction. He was backlit. She couldn’t see his face. She locked her doors.
He turned his head, disappointed. He was getting soaked.
“Are you stalking me?” she asked.
He laughed.
“You know I live here,” she said. “You don’t work for Tinaroo. You’re out of your jurisdiction.”
“I work for the county.”
“Since when?”
“Why did you lock your door, Ronnie?”
“Don’t. I’ve had a long day. I’m trying to help out some dogs.”
“Owners left them?” He shone the torch in the truck again.
She looked away. “Is this because I called dispatch about python guy? Did your nan send you?” Peggy Collins was his grandmother. “I told her to send social services.”
“Can’t send Imelda in the middle of the night for psychedelic Steve-o, can she?”
Ronnie could hear “Crank That (Soulja Boy)” blasting from the camper van with the strobe light flickering in the dark window.
“That him?” Brad asked. “Lovely. How much do you know about scrubbies? They’re constrictors, strong as. No shelter would roll that dice.”
“Reckon he needs a motel.”
“He can sleep with his girlfriend in a cage at Happy Paws.” The animal shelter in Lionheart. Brad gestured to the ball ofdogs writhing in her passenger seat. “Want me to take the kids to the pound?”
“What if their owners don’t come?”
“Happy Paws.”
His proposition was tempting. “You’ll need food to tempt them into your car. Be nice to Steve-o.”
Brad Collins walked away. The patrol car pulled up beside her passenger door. He got out again. Sighing, she unlocked the door. When he opened her passenger door all five dogs poured out. One by one they jumped in the back of the paddy wagon. He shut his door gently, then stood in the rain.
When he slid into her passenger seat and jerked the door shut she clicked on the overhead lights.
He offered her a cigarette. She shook her head.
