“I think someone’s trying to break into my house.”
She quickly gave the dispatcher her information, listening to her dog still going off in the next room. Poor Rolf was getting hoarse.
“They were in the neighborhood, ma’am,” the dispatcher reassured her. “They’re almost there. Stay on the line with me until you see the deputies, OK?”
“Thank you.”
A few moments later, Jannie thought she heard a voice outside. “Are they here?”
“Not yet,” the dispatcher said.
“OK.” She heard a loud knock on the glass, and Rolf went off again. This time, she heard the scrape of claws, and she just knew he was launching himself at the slider.
“Shit,” she muttered. She hated it when he was this agitated. He could hurt himself.
Grabbing her Donald Duck robe and throwing it on, she quickly tied it as she rushed out of her bedroom.
Sure enough, Rolf was losing it, foam at the corners of his mouth as he barked at someone out there. Yes, it was a guy, tall and muscular, she guessed from a quick look outside. Not wanting him to see that she was home, she stayed out of sight.
“The deputies are at your front door, ma’am.”
“Thank you so much. I’ll hang up now.”
“No problem. Stay safe.”
It took two stern commands to call off the dog, but he finally listened. Jannie praised him and pointed to his crate. She knew many cops were familiar with shepherds, and Rolf would never bite someone withoutbeing prompted, but she wasn’t taking any chances. He reluctantly ducked inside the plastic box, toenails clicking as he spun around, and Jannie quickly latched it.
She saw the blond cop through the large glass lights, and her shoulders sagged with relief as she went to open the front door.
A young sheriff’s deputy stood there, dressed in the familiar dark green uniform with multiple implements on the belt, hand on his hip, his expression carefully controlled. Another stood nearby.
“He’s in the back,” she told them. “Please hurry.”
They nodded and, hands on their holsters, headed around the house.
The next second, all hell broke loose. She looked across the entry to the lanai, stunned to see Rolf, hackles raised, charging toward the intruder, who staggered backward, arms out, and fell ass first into the pool with a tremendous splash.
Jannie’s heart jumped into her throat. How had Rolf escaped? Crap, she hadn’t secured the top latch properly. It had happened before; he’d been able to bust out of his crate and use the doggie door to get outside.
The man sank to the bottom, then bobbed to the surface, tossing his soaked dark hair out of his face. At the pool’s edge, Rolf stood menacingly, body leaning forward, hackles raised, barking with a mouth full of big white German Shepherd teeth.
“Good boy,” she muttered. The intruder was trapped. If he got out of the pool and tried to run, his ass was Rolf’s.
A nervous giggle escaped her. Jannie had often wondered if Rolf would protect her in a situation like this. Now she knew the answer.
Quickly, she stepped outside to call off the dog, who ran inside at her command with a full body shake and an indignant, “Boof.”
“Go to your crate!” she ordered.
Rolf bounded off, and she moved to follow him just as the cops rounded the corner and drew their guns.
“Sheriff’s office! Hands up right now!”
Yeah, have fun with Orange County’s finest.
“Jannie.”
Jannie froze.
