Tim Hallett didn’t want to admit how nervous he was letting Rocky go, but it was only for a few minutes, and Claire Perkins had driven around to the far side of the property, so, in theory, he would run directly to her and Smarty.
Hallett kneeled down to stroke Rocky’s back. He was careful to avoid the black spot Darren had painted on him. Hallett had to admit it made him look entirely different. It probably wasn’t necessary, but it’d make for a good story later on. Hallett said in a low voice near Rocky’s ear, “Okay boy, just run to Claire and Smarty. Run and bark. Your two favorite things in the whole world.”
He scratched his fingers down the dog’s spine the way Rocky liked, but just before he was about to let the dog run, Darren Mori said, “Hang on.”
Hallett looked over his shoulder at his partner using binoculars.
Darren said, “The Highlander is pulling out.”
“Can you see who’s in it?”
“One driver. It’s the oldest son. Doesn’t look like anyone else is inside.”
Hallett said, “He’s a little bit of a badass.”
“But the other one is on probation, right?”
“At this point it doesn’t matter who’s on probation. I guarantee you John Fusco is walking in there in the morning.”
“Amen to that.”
Hallett said, “Can I send Rocky now?”
Darren answered with a quick nod of his head.
Hallett released Rocky and called out after him, “Run, boy, run. Run to Claire and Smarty.” On the far side of the house, more than a block away, he could just see Claire with Smarty standing in the road so Rocky would know where to run.
Hallett used the thick telescope to focus on the man kneeling by the rear house. Rocky ran so fluidly it looked effortless. He seemed like the fastest dog Hallett had ever seen, though he knew greyhounds ran faster. It had to be an effect of looking through the high-powered telescope. Hallett mumbled, “C’mon, boy, come on.”
As Rocky approached the house he slowed slightly, and Hallett could hear him bark at exactly the right time. It was like taking a photograph. The man sprang to his feet and twisted to look behind him at Rocky. Hallett saw his profile, then his full face. At the same time he and Darren said, “That’s him.”
Ludner screamed something at Rocky, who just kept running.
About half a minute later Claire came over the radio and said, “I’ve got him, Tim.”
Hallett stood, turned, and smiled at Darren Mori, saying, “Now, that really was a special canine assist.”
* * *
Claire Perkins waited on the opposite side of the compound from Tim Hallett. Rocky sat in the rear compartment with Smarty. They enjoyed just hanging out sometimes. It was like buddies who went out for a beer, but in this case they just sat together in the cool compartment on the quilt her mother had made for Smarty. Rocky looked ridiculous with the black hair paint sprayed over his face and on his side, but she couldn’t deny it was a hell of a good idea and proved how adaptable their unit could be.
She’d been working closely with Smarty to ease his drive to attack. It was difficult for dog trainers to get past some of the innate abilities and instincts of certain breeds of dogs. German Shepherds had been bred as herding dogs but had a protective streak, as well as an aggressive one. Often people thought training a dog was as simple as giving him a treat when he did something right.
For a police officer of smaller stature, like herself, it was important that she and Smarty trained on the basics of obedience. She worked on the simple commands during the day and practiced in their home when it was just her and Smarty. She wondered who’d picked such an appropriate name as Smarty and realized it could’ve been one of the dog breeder’s children who didn’t even realize Smarty wasn’t a real American name. The more time she spent with him, the more control she had over the dog’s instincts.
She was really enjoying teaching the hand signals and musical notes to Smarty. But despite all that, it was too risky to allow Smarty loose in public without a strong lead attached to his harness.
Claire especially liked assignments out of the ordinary, like this one. K-9 units rarely conducted surveillance. She wanted to be challenged. That was why she had gone into police work. She never expected one of the challenges to be the fact that she was a petite female. But she didn’t mind proving herself day in and day out. Sergeant Greene was a great role model. It was just a fluke that Claire now worked on her squad. No one thought of Sergeant Greene as a woman boss. She was just a respected, hard-working boss. That was something Claire could aspire to.
One thing she was learning about surveillance was you had plenty of time to be alone with your thoughts. For no reason at all one of the thoughts that popped into her head was John Fusco. The smug but attractive detective probably had that effect on more than a few women around the sheriff’s office. Right now she was glad she had his attention. She knew he’d arrive here on scene in the morning, and she intended to look nice when he did.
That was something most male cops never had to consider.
* * *
Junior was annoyed he’d been delayed so long that he’d missed Michelle leaving school. It was unavoidable. It would have to be to throw him off schedule. Now he had nothing in his brain but Michelle. The image of her nude body splayed out in front of him made the rest of the world pale by comparison. He had run past her house and seen the blue Honda in the driveway, but that really didn’t mean anything. Her mother tended to pick her up and drop her off places instead of bringing her home every day.
Then he got lucky. He had parked in front of the Publix where he’d seen her working and sure enough, after only a few minutes, she followed an elderly woman out of the store, pushing a basket with a ridiculously small payload. Maybe the old lady just wanted company on her walk back out to her Buick Riviera.
Junior surveyed the area. There seemed to be constant foot and vehicle traffic in and out of the parking lot, plus he wasn’t certain about security cameras. It would be a tremendous risk, but right now he was wondering if that wasn’t his only option. Wait till she was coming back from delivering someone’s groceries, pull alongside, point the gun at her, and get on with his life. The biggest flaw in that plan was the fact that he was driving his own car once again.
The other day Michelle had left work around seven thirty. That didn’t him give much time to make his move. He felt his stomach growl and decided all of this worrying was giving him an ulcer. As his grandfather back in Indiana used to say, it was time to shit or get off the pot.