Page 16 of Midnight Creed

“There’s a place in Pensacola called the Segway House. My partner helps run it. They have some pretty good meals.”

“Yeah, most of those places don’t allow dogs. They make you sign up for stuff. Or they put you in a room with no windows. Me and Gunner are doing just fine. Aren’t we, girl?”

She was looking up at him, but also watching Creed and the bag of treats.

“You know what? I’ve got another bag in my Jeep. Go ahead and take these. For Gunner.”

Sully hesitated, but a glance down at his dog was enough to put his pride away. He took the bag. “Thank you. Tell your partner, thanks, too.” He gestured to Bolo and asked, “So, where did you get a dog that knows how to find people? And bones?”

“My partner who made the protein bars. She and I rescue dogs from shelters. Sometimes people abandon their dogs at the end of our long driveway. We train them for scent detection.”

“Where’d you learn to do that?”

“Mostly in the military. I was a K9 handler in the Marines.”

Sully raised an eyebrow. “I’d never figure you for a jarhead.”

Creed smiled at the man’s surprise. “What branch were you with?”

The man raised both bushy eyebrows now. “What makes you think I’m a vet?”

“I haven’t been called jarhead in a long time. Plus, you named your dog Gunner.”

Now Sully wagged his head as if he appreciated that Creed had bothered to put the puzzle pieces together. Through his beard, Creed thought he saw an uptick of a smile.

“U.S. Navy. But that was long before you were even born.”

“Mr. Sully,” Norwich interrupted them. She was finished with Hogan. “Mind taking me to where your dog found that bone?”

“I can show you the vicinity.”

“Mr. Creed, I’ll be in touch when I know more about that next search. Thank you for your help.” She bent over and petted Bolo along the ridge of his back. “Thank you, too, Bolo.”

Creed watched the three of them disappear into the woods. When he turned around, it startled him how much he didn’t recognize. Overhead, clouds had moved in and now blocked the sun. While racing after Bolo down the ridge and trying to keep up with his dog, they had zigged and zagged through the woods. He hadn’t paid enough attention to how many times they had changed directions. Trees surrounded him. He couldn’t even see the ridge.

The recent stab wound had healed, but he had to admit—if only to himself—that his mind and body were still playing catch-up. Some days, a mental fog appeared out of nowhere. It was more unsettling than the physical aches. Those he could power through...mostly.

He pulled his cell phone from his pocket and thumbed it on. Only one bar, but a slew of text messages. Before he could take a look at any of them, a familiar ringtone joined the chirping birds above him.

He smiled as he answered, “Hey, Maggie.”

“So, are you and Grace enjoying a therapeutic walk on the beach?”

“Hardly,” he laughed. “Bolo and I are in the middle of the woods.”

Maggie loved the beach and grabbed any chance she had to dig her toes in the sand when she got down to the area. She’d told him once that just the sight of Pensacola’s emerald, green water and sugar white sand had the power to drain the tension from her body. Creed lived at the edge of Blackwater River State Forrest, miles from the beach.

“Bolo?” she asked, the question laced with concern. For some reason, she felt personally responsible for his and Grace’s injuries. “I thought you said she was doing great?”

He winced. He had said that. Exactly that.

“She is doing great. I guess I’m being a little overprotective. But there’s a lot of debris and trash here where we were searching, so I’m glad I didn’t bring her.”

“There’s snow here.”

“Snow?”

“And it’s cold.”