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Under the guise of playing with Boss, he scouted her property. The gate might keep a car out but keeping an individual out was another story, as J.R. demonstrated by hopping the fence. Or he could make a stealthy approach through the woods.
John would ask if Elizabeth had motion sensor lights or any security system—other than Boss. Her reason for adopting a big dog became a little clearer. Too bad Boss was likelier to knock someone over in his exuberance to play than to attack anyone. Still, it might be a good thing to leave Boss here a little longer if they didn’t find this guy.
A faded-blue, older model sedan came through the gate and parked next to the little beige house. Boss bounded over to get love pats from a blond whose dark roots showed a good inch. Boss sniffed at the fast-food bag in her other hand. “No. This is my dinner.” She raised it higher, which was laughable since Boss could easily grab the bag and take off if he wanted.
“Come here, boy,” John called.
“You must be Bruce’s owner.” The blonde smiled and checked him out. “We sure are going to miss him. He’s a great dog.”
“I’m glad he was loved on but happy that I found him.” John guessed the woman was in her late thirties or early forties. There were dark circles under her eyes and lines at the corners of her eyes and mouth. Her jeans hung loose on her thin frame.
She opened the door to the house, and a brown Doberman raced down the steps. The two dogs jumped on each other like puppies. A minute later, the blonde returned with a water bottle and her bag of food. “Would you like a drink?” she offered.
“I got one. Thanks.” John tossed the tennis ball, and both dogs charged after it.
She took a seat on the far edge of the top step and opened her bag, glancing up at him in invitation. “How long have you had Bruce?”
“I found him about three years ago. Best thing that ever happened to me. His full name is Bruce “The Boss” Springweiler, and I call him Boss.” He smiled, as always, when he explained the tribute to the legendary Bruce Springsteen.
“Must have been tough to leave him when you had to deploy.”
“It was. The first time, some friends fostered him. This time, I left him with my live-in—now ex-girlfriend. That turned out to be a mistake.” Though Britney seemed fine with it at the time.
“Wren, can you come over here for a few minutes?” Elizabeth called out.
The woman he’d been speaking to took another bite of her burger, then wrapped it up. “Excuse me.”
John tossed the ball for the dogs a while longer. He refrained from peeking in the windows of one of the tiny homes and instead headed to Elizabeth’s front porch to eat his meal and keep an eye on passing cars.
He finished eating and resumed tossing the ball for the dogs in the grassy area between the gravel drive and fence. When Elizabeth and Wren emerged from the tiny blue house, Wren checked out John again, then called to the Doberman and went into the home closest to the woods.
John strode over to Elizabeth. “Did you hear anything from your officer friend?”
“Unfortunately, they didn’t find J.R. anywhere.”
It’d been a long shot.
“Did you find a place to rent yet?” she asked.
“Not yet. I’m looking. I am. See, I own a house here, but I’ve got a renter in it. He’s moving in two months, but I’m also transferring to a billet with SOCOM, which is Special Ops Command,” he explained in civilian speak for her. “I’ll be moving to Tampa in just under seven months. I’m trying not to sign a six-month lease somewhere because I was planning to move back into my house and do some major renovations. I haven’t had any luck finding something short-term where I can have Boss. Looks like I’ll have to piece things together with vacation rentals.” Or shell out around seven thousand dollars for the next two months. So much for his plan to bank up rental income for his renovations.
“I have a proposition for you.” Elizabeth drew the words out. “The yellow house in the middle, Hope Harbor, is vacant. If you’d like to rent here temporarily, Ariana and Wren said they’d feel safer with you here until J.R.’s trial.”
“Seriously? That’d be awesome. I planned to ask if you wanted to keep Boss around as protection. He looks and sounds a lot more intimidating than he is, but I’d feel better being here if that guy decides to try something worse. How long are you thinking?”
“She doesn’t have a trial date yet. Best estimate is anywhere from four to twelve weeks. I can work with you.”
“Perfect.” With all this land for Boss to run, it beat any listing he’d looked at or pitching a tent somewhere.
“First, let me warn you, it’s a tiny home. It’s only a little over three hundred square feet.”
John laughed. “I can see that. But I’ve spent six months bunking in a room about that size with nine other guys. That won’t be a problem.”
Elizabeth’s expression was full-on we’ll-see-about-that. “I charge rent based on income because—”
“I’m happy to pay the market rate.”
“Well, you are doing us a favor.”
