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Beckett talked over him. The speakerphone had been a bad idea. “Did you lose a dog?”
“Wait a sec,” the bloke said. After that, there was the sound of footsteps.
Troy said, “He doesn’t sound nice.”
Beckett said, “No, he doesn’t.”
The bloke said, “I heard that. What, I’m supposed to be happy the little turd ran off again? Yeah, he’s not out there. Must’ve gone through the hole in the fence again.”
Beckett said, “Ah. Cheers.”
“What? Cheers? We having a beer or something? Hey, you’re obviously out running around, so swing by and drop him off for me, will you? I have to get to work.”
“Yeah,” Beckett said. “I’ll definitely do that.”
“Wait. Let me give you the address,” the man said, completely missing the sarcasm. “If I’m not there, just dump him over the fence. Don’t take him to the shelter. They’ll charge me out the ass to get him back, since he’s not neutered. Like I shouldn’t be able to decide that for my own dog.”
“Sounds like he’d be better off in the house, then,” Beckett said, testing the waters.
“He’s an outside dog,” the man said. “Belonged to my ex, and now that she’s gone, he’s a watchdog, because he yaps like crazy. About all he’s good for. Not that it’s any of your business.”
When Beckett rang off, the woman said, “That didn’t sound good, but the dogisthe property of the owner. You might want to take him to the shelter instead and report what the owner said. If his living situation isn’t acceptable, Animal Control may act. He seems like a pretty small dog to be living outside, though he looks happy.”
Since the animal was standing on his hind legs and licking Beckett’s cheek at the moment, you could say that. He lifted the dog off him, stroked the wrinkled forehead with a thumb while the dog kicked its legs in a comical way, and said, “I doubt the SWAT team is going to be swooping in based on my report.”
“Dad,”Troy said. “You can’t take him back to that man! He was running away! He was trying toescape.”
Janey said, her ponytail all but quivering. “Look how dirty he is, Dad. Look howskinnyhe is. Wehaveto rescue him.”
“Yeah. I know.” His hand could practically encircle the dog’s midsection. He had big hands, but still. “I’ll ask around and find somebody who wants him,” he decided. “That way, the bloke can’t get him back. There’s bound to be somebody. Not like he’d eat you out of house and home. He can’t weigh more than four kilograms. He’s a bit ugly, but …”
“Dad,”Troy said. More like a wail.
“Why can’t we keep him?” Janey asked.
“It’s not really finders keepers,” the woman said. “You should at least check out his living situation for yourself instead of assuming.”
“No,” he said.
“That’s—” she began.
“Sorry,” he said. “Kids will be late to school. Come on. Let’s go.”
Why was she giving him stick about this? He was doing the right thing. An outside dog? Yeah, no. It was August. It was hot. He’d have bet money the dog’s water bowl was empty half the time.
What was he going to do all day with a dog, though? A day he was meant to spend on the jobsite?
Also—theyweregoing to be late. First day of school. Late. First the rest of it, and now this.
They’d started out fine this morning. Heaps of time, but Janey had said, when he’d told her to get in the car, “You can’t let Troy go to school with those pieces of hair sticking up.”
“He’s five,” Beckett had said. “It’s interesting, maybe. It’s a style.”
“Dad,”she’d said. “You have tofixit. He’ll be bullied!”
“What, over his hair? Nah. He’ll be fine. He’s not bad at sport, and that’s what counts.”
“Excuse me,” Janey said, “it’s theStates?How do you know what counts?”
