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Mic pulled out of Dottie’s circular drive and turned right as she headed down Monument Avenue towards downtown Richmond.
“Hey, boy,” she said as she reached out to scratch Angel’s ear as he sat at attention on the seat next to her. “Do you think Dottie’s mad at us?”
Angel gave his mistress a mournful look and turned his head slightly toward her. Michaela knew he understood everything she said to him.
“Yeah,” she smiled. “I think you’re right. I think she’s pretty pissed, but we both know she’ll get over it, right?”
Angel licked her hand to show agreement.
“Okay,” she smiled at him as he wagged his tail. “Enough of that. I’m gonna have the cook give you a great bone when we get down to Biddy’s. What do you say, old boy?”
Angel thumped his tail enthusiastically against the leather seat in the truck and gave Mic his happy look, which Michaela swore was a dog smile. “You just love the word ‘bone’ don’t you, buddy?”
Michaela’s police radio squawked loudly on her dash interrupting the Jimmy Buffet network on Sirius radio. She heard reports of a Virginia State Trooper being gunned down on Route 33, just west of Richmond. Her heart plummeted, and she gripped the wheel tightly. Angel’s tail slowed, and he looked at her for direction.
“That’s not good, Angel. That’s the fear of all state troopers. You never know who’s gonna be in that car.” She listened carefully. The trooper had taken three rounds in the chest.
Overkill, Mic thought to herself as she maneuvered the car around the piles of snow and ice.