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Chief definitely had attachment problems because he’d whined last night when Jack had stepped outside to take a look under Maggie’s hood. He’d thought he might as well get something done when sleep wouldn’t come yet again, and Maggie had left the truck unlocked. He’d need to talk to her about that later.
Chief had seemed duty bound to come with him though all he did was sit at the curb. Then again, he probably feared losing his meal ticket again. Since Jack didn’t have any dog food, he had cut up a few pieces of a leftover steak and fed it to him.
Which, come to think of it, might not be the best way to get rid of a dog.
Now, Jack opened the front door for Chief to follow. He did, as if going to work with his owner was the norm. Jack opened the passenger side door of his truck.
“I’m not an ogre, so you can sit inside now that you don’t smell like a dumpster.”
The dog leapt inside and sat human-like in the front seat, his body straight, his head regal. He sat in the same position the entire drive to the Sheriff’s station.
What a weird dog.
At the station, Chief walked to Jack’s desk and took a seat at attention.
“What do we have here?” Calhoun walked up to the dog and gave him a pat on the head.
Chief returned the gesture by licking his hand.
“Your new mascot?” Jack asked. “Mrs. Jones brought him in yesterday when you were gone and insisted that we find him a home.”
“Old Mrs. Jones.” Calhoun rolled his eyes.
“Thinking that Harte’s Peak’s finest have the answer to everything that goes wrong.”
“He smelled like he’d been dumpster diving yesterday, but Lexi washed him.”
“So you’ve got a dog,” Calhoun stated.
Had all of the oxygen left the room again?
“I do not have a dog. If anything, the station has a mascot. I can’t have a dog.”
“Hate to break it to you, Jack, but if you don’t claim that dog, it appears he certainly claims you.”
Jack glanced at Chief, who now panted in his direction almost as if he’d understood Calhoun’s words.
“Yeah. Here’s the problem. I can’t have a dog. I only brought him home to clean him up and bring him back here. You can figure out what to do with him.”
Jack took a seat at his desk, causing Chief to get up, move a few paces closer and sit by his feet again. Uncanny.
“This is one smart dog. I’ll talk to your landlady. My sister will probably allow for special dispensation for the dog of one of my men.”
Calhoun’s sister happened to be Jack’s landlady, and at the time of the month-to-month agreement, the fact had been rather convenient for him. Now it appeared as though the tables had turned.
“I shouldn’t ask for any special treatment. Word gets around. People talk. Carol should treat me like any other tenant.” He crossed his arms.
“Nonsense. You can bring him to work with you, that way there won’t be any worry about what he’d do to the place while you’re gone. Unless, of course, there’s a certain young teen who would be willing to dog sit.”
That teen wasn’t getting in his house again without someone around to watch her every move.
“Fine. I’ll keep him until we find his owner. A dog like this has obviously been trained. Maybe his owners are on vacation, and they don’t even know he’s gone.”
“Right. You do that. Until then, I’d say you have yourself a buddy.”
Almost two weeks later,no one had claimed Chief, and the posters Jack had paid Lexi five dollars to put up around town had begun to fade.
Maggie hoped that the owners would not be found quite yet, even if the thought was selfish. Surely, she couldn’t be blamed for loving the grin on her daughter’s face every afternoon as she walked Chief around the neighborhood, took great pride in his grooming, and looked forward to the nights Jack worked the night shift, and she could bring the dog over for an overnighter.
