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The guy was clearly young, confused and unsure—probably one of the volunteers—so Sean stepped in and made a gesture. The firefighter drew his hand away. The woman pulled a deep, shaky breath. Her eyes were big and her skin clammy. She reached for Trinity and petted over the dog’s back in long, steadying strokes. She petted so hard it looked like she leaned into the dog for support. The dog made no reaction, other than standing still and allowing the woman to pet her.
“You okay, ma’am?” the firefighter repeated.
The woman nodded rapidly. She looked around at the crowd that had gathered and shrunk into herself, like a turtle in its shell.
“Everyone back to shopping.” Sean raised his voice and pointed toward the corners of the supermarket. He waved a hand at the crowd. “Go back to your business.”
People reluctantly dispersed.
“Cashier called 9-1-1,” the firefighter who’d been holding the dog said. “Woman freaked out in the produce section, was on the ground, with a dog in her face.”
“It’s clearly a service dog.”
The kid shrugged. “When we got here, one of the employees shoved her leash into my hands. He’d pulled the dog off the lady.”
“Understood.”
The firefighter next to the woman rose and offered her his hand. She shook her head. “I’m fine.” Her voice was almost a whisper. “Go. Please.”
Damn. They were all just doing their jobs, but nobody here had any idea what they were dealing with. Sean walked over to the shopping carts and grabbed two of the smaller ones in each hand. He lined them up a couple yards away from the woman, her dog and her spilled apples. The firefighters stepped out of his way as he repeated that with more carts, until she was circled off by a row of carts, with the apple stand at her back. Sean stood just outside of the circle he’d created while the firefighters packed up.
After about five minutes alone inside her space, the woman finally stood. She was just a wisp of a thing, black hair in braids, big eyes, brown skin and couldn’t weigh a buck-ten with rocks in her pockets. Her gaze fixed on Sean, who’d hung nearby. “Thanks,” she said, her voice weak.
Sean pushed aside one of the carts and stepped into the circle, but still kept his distance. “You alright, Miss...?”
“Tabitha,” she said.
“You okay, Tabitha?” The perspiration on her face was drying and her breaths were winding down.
Tabitha nodded. “Panic attack came out of nowhere. Trinity had it under control.” She gestured toward the dog. “One of the employees pulled her away from me. He was—” she scanned the store, but obviously didn’t see the guy “—stacking apples, and I guess he thought she was hurting me, but licking my face is one of the things she was trained to do.”
Sean nodded. He knew that people often had the best intentions but sometimes misunderstood and made things worse.
“Thanks for...” Tabitha trailed off, her gaze following the line of carts. Realization slowly filled her eyes. “Oh, geez. Everyone’s looking.” Her eyes cast down. “Aww. Look at all the apples I dumped.”
“Apples are tough.” He pointed at Trinity’s vest, changing the subject. “You in the service?”
Tabitha’s face relaxed. “I was.” The tension in her body started to dissipate, starting with her shoulders and working its way down. “Been out for a while.”
Sean could tell that her brain was defogging and she was starting to feel relieved and embarrassed all at once. She wanted to flee, but also wanted to trust in her dog and accomplish her task. Only now did he spy the hand basket on the ground, a few feet from Trinity. It was full of apples, like she planned to make a dozen pies. The odds of Tabitha finishing her shopping and making those pies were probably about seventy/thirty right now, in favor of fleeing. “Why don’t I stay close while you finish your shopping?”
“I...” Tabitha’s eyes went to Sean’s badge, then to the firefighter who still stood outside the circle of carts. “Really?”
“Long as we hit the beer aisle.” Sean offered a grin that he hoped was comforting. The woman reminded him of his niece. They were about the same age—late twenties? Same build. Same aura of innocence. Only difference was Lizzie was pale as a ghost and went all shades of pink when she was embarrassed.
Tabitha smiled. “Thank you, Officer...?”
“Callahan. Detective Callahan.”
“Detective Callahan,” she repeated. Then Tabitha picked up her basket and led Trinity through the produce, methodically choosing fruit and vegetables like she wanted to represent all the colors of the rainbow.
“She seems okay, physically,” the firefighter said, once Tabitha was back on her feet and moving around. “She refuses to go to the hospital. You got this?”
Sean nodded. “Thanks for coming out.”
Sean stayed close but kept his distance, briefly wondering what the woman had been through. He thought of Rhett and Humphrey, which was a natural leap to Pete, who trained service dogs for military veterans. Odds were high that Trinity was one of Pete’s. But Sean wouldn’t be asking Tabitha about that, or even speaking to her again. His task, right now, as he’d so recently mentioned to Castillo, was to protect and serve. He hadn’t enjoyed his shift yesterday and he’d made a huge mess of things this morning at the gym, but right now, right in this moment, he could be of some good.
Tabitha checked out and he watched until she was safely out the door, fruit in one hand and dog in the other, a little wave over her shoulder, head held high, like she was determined to rise above it all. Sean bought his Guinness and decided the morning hadn’t been such a bust after all.
