“I wasn’t stealing a thing,” Sully said before Creed had a chance to ask if he was okay.
“I know you didn’t.”
“Sometimes people toss takeout containers from the waffle place. Full meals. Gunner gets hungry, you know.”
“Is she okay? They didn’t hurt her, did they?”
“No, no, she’s okay. A little scared is all.” His eyes darted over Creed’s shoulder, checking on the bullies, and Creed knew it wasn’t just Gunner who was a little scared. “She thinks she’s a lot bigger dog. She thinks she’s the size of your search dog.”
“Actually, I have a smaller one I use, too. Grace is about Gunner’s size. A Jack Russell terrier. But she thinks she’s bigger, too. She got hurt a couple months ago on a job, so I’ve been letting her heal.”
“We protect them, don’t we? They’re our children.”
“Yes, they are.” Creed sat down on the curb beside him.
“Don’t know what I’d do without this girl.” He pulled the dog closer. “You got any real children?”
“No. How about you?”
“A daughter. Beautiful, young woman.” He shook his head. “She don’t want anything to do with me.”
Creed kept quiet. Waited for more.
“She doesn’t understand. Thinks she knows everything. When my wife passed, she said she lost a mother and a father ’cause I was...oh, you know. Not myself, I guess. She got herself a husband, a good job. Probably a baby by now. She never did understand what I lost. I didn’t just lose a wife, you know. I lost my best friend. My partner. My whole life, really.” When he rubbed a hand over his face this time, his thumb and forefinger swiped at the eyes, too.
“I’ve got a place where you two can sleep if you want,” Creed offered without giving it a second thought. “Get something to eat, too.”
“Aw no. Thanks though. Got to get back. You know, get back to my stuff or somebody’ll snatch it up. We respect each other’s things, but if you’re gone for long, it’s up for grabs. Besides, it looks like your evening got interrupted. Some fine lady must be waiting for you.” He gestured to the tuxedo.
“I escorted my partner to an event downtown. She was one of the hosts. Remember, I told you about her? We own a K9 business together.” He left out the part about the fundraiser. It felt wrong to talk about people in ballroom dresses and tuxedoes with jewelry and luxury cars, collecting money for people like Sully, without bothering to get to know them. “She knows I’m not a fancy event guy, so she let me go home early.”
“That’s a good woman.”
“Yes, she is.”
“A keeper.”
“It’s not like that.”
“No?”
“We’re each other’s family. More like brother and sister. Maybe closer. She knows me better than anybody else.”
Sully nodded. “That was my Caroline.”
The old man started searching for and grabbing a backpack that looked pathetically limp and empty. Creed wanted to drive him home, but home was through those dark woods behind them. He couldn’t insult the man.
“I owe you one, Jarhead.” Sully smiled at him as he found his hat and plopped it on his head.
Creed glanced around. The three men were gone. The parking lot was a little emptier.
“They only had hors d’oeuvres,” he told Sully. “Miniature bites on toothpicks. I don’t know about you, but I’m starving” He thumbed back to the Waffle House. “How about you join me for a late dinner?”
“Oh no, they won’t let me have Gunner in there. And I won’t leave her outside by herself.”
“Yeah, you’re right. Some places make a fuss even when I have a K9 working vest on one of mine. How about we eat in my Jeep? Gunner can eat in the back. I have a blanket and a water bowl.”
“I don’t know.” Sully looked around, as if wanting to escape. He couldn’t afford a meal. He’d already accepted one favor. Two might be too much.
“Waffles on me tonight,” Creed offered. He had to try.
“No, I can’t let you do that.” He looked at the ground and shook his head.
This was harder to figure out than taking down those three bullies. But Creed understood. Sully was a man used to reciprocating, paying his way. No matter his circumstances. In his place, Creed suspected he’d be the same way.
“Okay, how about this? I buy you and Gunner dinner and you make me lunch sometime at your...camp.”
“I make you lunch?”
“Yeah, I actually wouldn’t mind having some wicked good rice and beans.”
Sully’s head bobbed, but Creed couldn’t tell if it was in agreement. The brim of his hat kept his face shadowed. When his eyes came back to meet Creed’s, he was smiling.
“You got yourself a deal.” He stood, using his hands to push himself up off the ground, then he slung the backpack over his shoulder.
“By the way, you could use some boxing lessons,” Sully told him, pointing at Creed’s jaw.
“He just got lucky.” He fingered the tender spot.
“Got more than lucky with me.” The old man checked the corner of his mouth again. “I guess we both need a brush up.”
“Three against one is never fair.”
“Except that loud-mouth blond kid didn’t really count.”
“True. I expected him to trip over those flip-flops.”
“Hey, you need to teach me that leg sweep thing. That some kind of ninja karate move?”
“Nope. It’s really all about balance. I’ll show you.”
They walked shoulder-to-shoulder to Creed’s Jeep, like soldiers surviving the latest battle. Gunner kept close to Sully’s side, brushing against his pant leg.
“I need to tell you something.” Sully’s tone was serious. He stopped and waited for Creed. “I owe you this.”
“You don’t owe me anything.”
“No, I do. That boy...that teenager you and the sheriff were looking for. There was a young fella about two or three weeks ago. Hard to measure time anymore. He didn’t tell me his name. But it could have been your teenager. Had a big ole black eye where his daddy walloped him good. I’m not a prude about disciplining children, though I never laid a hand on my girl. He had bruises in other places, too. He stayed with me and Gunner for a couple of nights. And then left. I figured he went back home.”
“Did you tell the sheriff?”
“No, I didn’t.”
“You saw the photo. Do you think it was Caleb?”
“That picture the sheriff had of a young boy all cleaned up, hair combed neat. No bruises. But yeah, I think it might have been him.”
“I’ll need to tell the sheriff. You know that, right?”
Sully nodded. They stood there under a lamppost in the parking lot. Then he gestured at Creed’s rolled up sleeves and said, “So you own a tux?”
“No, it’s a rental.”
But now, in the light, he saw what Sully had noticed. Blood stained the cuff of his sleeve. A seam had ripped open on the trousers. Somewhere he’d lost the cummerbund.
“I think you might own that one,” Sully told him.
“Yeah, I bet you’re right.”
This time, they both laughed.
Creed was sure Hannah would not be amused. Nor would Maggie if he still had bruises when she arrived for Christmas. But for right now, he and Sully deserved a couple of Waffle House’s All-Star Specials. And Gunner could have whatever she wanted.