After a marathon session of fetch, Max had finally worn out Ruby. She lay on his lap on the floor of the judge’s back patio, licking his hand as he petted her.
The judge raised his eyes from the book he was reading and watched them with an appraising look.
“Just how allergic is your dad?”
Max shrugged. “I dunno. We’d have to rub Ruby in his face to find out.”
“Not sure either one of them would enjoy that. But speaking hypothetically . . . if anything were to happen to me, do you think he’d let you take her in?”
“Is something going to happen to you?” It was an alarming thought.
“No! God forbid. Just thinking worst-case scenario. I’m no spring chicken. And Ruby’s got a lot of miles left on her. Wouldn’t want to leave her an orphan.”
“We’d take her. Totally. My dad’s not that allergic.”
A sharp knock came from the front door, loud enough that it made Ruby twitch.
“Did you order a pizza?”
“How would I do that?”
The judge stood up. “It’s a joke. Try to keep up, kid.”
He exited the patio. Ruby raised her head to stare at the door her owner had just disappeared through. Max stroked her from head to tail as they heard the sound of the front door opening, followed by men’s voices, too low to hear.
Ruby strained to get to her feet. Max gathered her in his arms and increased his petting, trying to persuade her to stay with him. When she started to squirm, he let her go. She trotted out of the room. With a sigh, Max got up and followed her.
As he entered the front hall from the kitchen, the judge was talking through the screen door to Eddie Stankovic, who was holding a shotgun. Next to Eddie, Max could see the shoulder of a tall man, but he couldn’t tell who it was.
“Kozak didn’t think so,” Eddie was saying.
The judge shrugged. “What can I tell you? He was misinformed.”
“You mind if we take a look?” Eddie asked.
“I do, actually,” the judge replied. “I got a friend over right now. It’s not a convenient time.”
At the mention of a friend, Eddie peered past the judge, looking into the house. Max stepped forward a few paces.
When he did, he realized the second man was his dad’s boss, Marty—and he was holding the assault rifle he’d almost shot Dad with earlier that day.
“Should we come back later?” Eddie asked the judge.
“I wouldn’t bother yourself, Ed. You’re barking up the wrong tree. You boys have a good day, now.”
“You too, Judge,” Eddie replied. When he shifted position to move off the front porch, Max caught a glimpse of a third person behind him.
It was Jordan Stankovic. He and Max locked eyes for the half second before the judge shut the door.
The old man turned the deadbolt. Then he went to the short table in the hallway, opened its shallow drawer, and placed the large-caliber pistol Max hadn’t realized he was holding back inside it.
Max’s heart jumped as the judge shut the drawer. “Is that a Colt forty-five?”
“Close,” the judge replied. “Beretta nine millimeter. What do you know about handguns?”
“Only what I got from video games.”
“I’m not what you’d call an enthusiast,” the judge explained. “But back when I was on the bench, I put away a few wise guys. Made my wife nervous that their friends on the outside might get ideas. The Beretta was peace of mind for the both of us. You hungry?”
“A little bit.”
“Good. Let’s eat something.”
With Ruby at his heels, the judge gave Max a reassuring pat on the shoulder and walked past him to the kitchen. But it wasn’t reassuring enough to compensate for Max’s sense of unease. Life on Brantley Circle was starting to feel more and more like a video game, and he’d always sucked at video games.