Forever After (20 page)

“Knock?”

“It’s the simplest way. The dog can’t be so vicious it attacks every person who goes to the house, Delgado. They couldn’t let it run loose. Chances are, if you just walk up
onto the porch like a normal person, instead of trying to sneak, the dog will leave you alone.”

“What if it don’t?”

Glen ground his teeth. “Your family will be well taken care of.”

“What?”

The man truly was an idiot. “Just try it, Delgado. All right? When the broad answers her door, you’ll be able to get a good look at her, and maybe at the kid as well.”

Delgado was silent for a second. “What’ll we say to her?”

“About what?”

“Well, we gotta have us a reason, don’t we? For knockin’, I mean.”

“Jesus Christ. What am I payin’ you two idiots for, to play with yourselves? Make something up, Delgado. Say you’re taking a census.”

“A what?”

Glen rolled his eyes. “Forget that. Tell her you’re selling encyclopedias. That’ll work. You do know what an encyclopedia is, don’t you?”

“Sure. What’d’ya think I am, stupid or somethin’?”

After hanging up the phone, Glen placed a call to Sanders. “I want two more men on the job in Oregon, Allen. Nelson and Delgado can’t handle it, at least not alone. They’ve encountered a few difficulties, and neither of them is bright enough to screw in a lightbulb, let alone iron out wrinkles.”

“You got anybody special in mind?”

“Get Parker and Matlock. I’d like them out there by morning. They’re both sharp. They can get the job done.”

“I don’t know if I can book them flights out of here that fast.”

“Use the Lear. It’s probably best to go that route, anyway. Not as much red tape when they bring the kid back.”

“If they bring her back. We don’t know for sure it’s even her yet.”

Glen sighed. “Yeah, ‘if.’” He glanced back at the tele
vision. “I’ve got a hunch it is, though, and my hunches are seldom wrong.”

“Hey, boss? I think maybe I should go out with Parker and Matlock.”

“You can’t. If that’s Mary out there, she’ll recognize you, Sanders.”

“I’ll keep out of sight. It’ll be better if I’m there, boss. This is too important to screw up. Parker and Matlock are sharp enough, I guess. But just in case things get sticky, I should be there to ramrod the operation. What’d’ya say?”

“All right.” Glen rubbed his forehead. “Yeah, that’s a good idea. If that’s my Tamara, I’m going to want to do the broad when we snatch the kid. I don’t want her taking me back to court to regain custody. Better to get her completely out of the picture.”

“We’ll have to make it look like an accident.”

Glen smiled. “That’s your specialty, isn’t it, Sanders?”

Memorial Day weekend
, Heath thought grimly,
one of the worst three-day nightmares of the year
. Here it was, only Wednesday, and already the fun had started. The campground looked like a metropolis. Beer coolers and camping gear were strung from here to Christmas, most of it dusty from sitting on garage shelves all winter. Boats of every size and description were down at the boat landing, and all-terrain vehicles were moving up into the surrounding hills in droves. In short, trouble would reign supreme in Wynema County from now until next Tuesday, and where there was trouble, the sheriff had an engraved invitation.

Normally, Heath didn’t feel this frazzled until late Sunday evening of Memorial Day weekend, when he’d already survived two days of insanity and was still facing a third. This year, though, he was already in a bitch of a mood before the holiday even began, partly because he knew how grueling the coming weekend would be, but mostly because he’d be working around the clock all this week and well into the next. That would leave him with very little time to see Meredith.

After readjusting his visor to block out the sunlight that slanted through the Bronco’s windshield, he resumed the tedious task of filling out a report on the citations he’d just given to two men.
Crazy fools
. What possessed supposedly
mature adults to practice their quick draws in a public campground? With live ammunition, no less. Give them a few beers, and some men didn’t have enough sense to pour piss out of a boot with directions on the heel.

“Unit three calling Sheriff Masters.” Jenny Rose’s voice boomed over the two-way radio, the transmission unaffected by the range of mountains that lay between Diamondback Campground and Wynema Falls. “Can you copy? Over.”

Heath was tempted not to answer. Five minutes of peace, that was all he asked, time to sip a steaming cup of coffee from his Thermos and rest his eyes for a second. There was no telling why Jenny Rose might be trying to reach him, the only certainty being that the news would be bad, anything from a shooting to a stabbing to a barroom brawl.

He sighed, grabbed the mike, and keyed it for transmission. “Roger. This is Masters. Over.”

“Lower level?” she came back. “Over.”

“Affirmative. Over.” Heath switched to 7, the frequency he and Jenny Rose normally used when they wanted more privacy. He keyed his mike to activate the squelch circuit, then transmitted again. “Go, Jenny Rose. Over.”

“We just had a PC come in for you. I was going to patch the lady through, but she hung up. Over.”

Heath frowned. He seldom received personal calls at the department, and it was even more rare for Jenny Rose to patch them through on the air. “What’s up? Over.”

“She said Goliath bit somebody. Over.”

Heath’s heart caught. “Come again?”

“She said Goliath bit somebody. No details. She was pretty upset. Should I send a deputy out that way? Over.”

Heath glanced at his watch. It would take him thirty minutes to get home. If Goliath had bitten someone, the resultant injury might be extensive. Rottweilers could exert fifteen-hundred pounds of pressure with their jaws, enough to snap the humerus in a grown man’s arm as if it were a toothpick.

“Affirmative, Jenny Rose. I’m heading that way. Over.”

“The only man I have to send is Moore. Over.”

Christ
. “That’s just great. Isn’t there anyone else? Someone who’s patrolling out my way or something? Over.”

“Sorry, Sheriff. It’s been busier today than polka-dots and stripes. Everyone else has his hands full. Over.”

He sighed. “All right, send Moore. He’s better than a kick in the ass, I guess.”

“Roger,” she came back. “I’m gone to higher level. Out.”

“Ten-four. Out.”

Never had the drive home seemed so agonizingly long to Heath. Goliath had bitten someone? Horrible visions filled Heath’s head of Sammy with half her face ripped off, or one of her thin little arms mangled. Sweat filmed his forehead, and his hands knotted in rigid fists over the steering wheel. Every awful account he’d ever heard of Rottweilers attacking children came back to haunt him.

He tried several times to make contact by radio with Moore.
No response
. En route, he also talked with Jenny Rose three times, hoping she might give him an update.
Nothing
. So far, Moore hadn’t radioed back to inform her of the situation.

“I’m sure it’s nothing serious,” Jenny Rose assured Heath. “Goliath is a great dog. Why would he suddenly turn mean? Over.”

Good question, Heath thought. Still, Goliath was only a dog. Who could say what prompted any canine to bite? Maybe Sammy had poked him in the eye, or pulled his ears, or accidentally stepped on him. Who knew? The possibilities were endless, and with no reports of what had actually happened, Heath’s imagination ran wild. Since Sammy and Goliath were nearly inseparable, it didn’t take a genius to deduce that Sammy had probably been the recipient of the bite.

What was he thinking? he suddenly asked himself. Sammy could carve that dog into small pieces with a dull knife, and he’d never bite her. Or Meredith either, for that
matter. Heath would have bet his life on that. But who else could the dog have bitten?

Her husband
. Oh, Jesus. Heath pictured the guy, big and brawny, forcing his way into Meredith’s house in a fit of rage. In a situation like that, Goliath might go berserk.

Heath’s gut twisted, and nausea surged up his throat. On the one hand, he was glad Goliath had been with Meredith to run interference if there had been trouble, but on the other, all he could think about was the possible consequences.

He whipped the steering wheel hard to the right, turning onto Hereford Lane. Up ahead, he could see the roof of Meredith’s house and beyond that, his own. He swiped at the beads of sweat on his brow.
No regrets
. If someone had threatened Meredith or Sammy with bodily harm, it was a damned good thing Goliath had been there. People were more important than animals; that was the bottom line. Especially those two. Heath’s heart just broke a little when he considered the price his dog might pay for being so loyal.

As he turned into Meredith’s driveway, Heath’s first impression was that her yard was packed with vehicles. When he took an actual count, though, he realized there were only three: Meredith’s Ford, an unfamiliar blue sedan, and a car from the sheriff’s department.

After skidding to a stop, Heath swung out of his Bronco and ran to the house. Standing just inside the living room doorway, Deputy Moore was filling out a report. Heath’s gaze swung to Meredith, who sat on the sofa, looking perfectly intact. A short, dark-haired stranger in a badly torn, gray suit jacket paced the floor in front of her, his stormy countenance indicating that he was furious. From somewhere at the back of the house, Heath could hear Goliath snarling and throwing his weight against a door. The sound of Sammy’s crying, also coming from the back of the house, added to the din.

“I put Goliath in the bedroom with Sammy,” Meredith said in a tremulous voice, her gaze clinging to Heath’s. “I,
um…” She gestured at the stranger. “This gentleman sells encyclopedias. When he got out of his car, Goliath just—” She broke off, lifting her hands. “It happened so fast. I was working and didn’t even realize anyone was here.”

The stranger jabbed a finger in the general direction of Meredith’s nose. “All I did was try to pat your kid on the head, and that Rottweiler of yours nearly took my arm off!” He swung back around to Heath. “That’s all in the world I did, Sheriff!”

Heath stepped closer to examine the man’s arm. Through the torn layers of the jacket and shirtsleeve, he glimpsed two puncture wounds. The injury wasn’t serious, thank God, and Goliath had all his immunizations. But even so, the dog had broken the skin. That was a death sentence for a retired canine deputy.

Heath felt sick. He glanced at Moore, who quickly rearranged his expression to hide the smirk on his face. The bastard. The only thing the deputy could possibly have against Goliath was that Heath loved him.

“That’s all you did?” Heath said, turning back to the angry salesman. “You just started to pat the child on the head? It’s not like Goliath to bite without reason.”

“Well, he sure as hell did me!” His dark eyes flashing, the man held up his arm to drive home the point. “I didn’t do anything, I tell you. And how the hell do you know the dog so well? You live around here, or somethin’?”

Heath searched the man’s gaze, convinced that he must have done something more to incite the dog than he claimed. Something Goliath had interpreted as threatening.

Damn
. Heath knew he was grasping at straws. From the start, Goliath had acted crazy around Sammy. Maybe this man’s trying to pat her on the head was all it had taken to goad the dog into a rage.

No matter how Heath sliced it, Goliath had broken a cardinal rule, and there was nothing to do now but face the consequences.

“Mrs. Kenyon doesn’t own the dog,” Heath said evenly. “Goliath is a retired deputy.”

“A dog cop?” The salesman’s gaze dropped to Heath’s badge. “He’s yours?”

“Officially, he still belongs to the county,” Heath explained, feeling as if he were signing Goliath’s death warrant with every word he uttered. “I’m his ex-partner and guardian.” He pointed toward the living room window. “That house up the road there is mine. Goliath has grown fond of Mrs. Kenyon’s little girl, and he spends a lot of time over here.”

“A police dog?” the man repeated, as if he couldn’t quite grasp it. “I’ve been bitten by a retired police dog?”

“I’m afraid so, yes.”

Here it comes, Heath thought. It wouldn’t take the man long to realize the potential for financial gain in a situation like this. A lawsuit, then a big settlement from the county. He’d probably go out for a fancy dinner tonight to celebrate.
Poor Goliath
.

Heath wished he could do something. Anything. If only he could turn back the clock. If he had kept the Rottweiler in his kennel today, maybe this never would have happened.

But it had. And now it was out of Heath’s hands.

“I’m very sorry,” Heath said. “Goliath has never broken the skin before, not even in the line of duty. I don’t know what possessed him.”

The salesman ran a hand over his shortly cropped black hair. “Wow.” He glanced down at his arm. “A canine cop. I guess I got off lucky. He could have done a lot more damage than this.”

That was the heartbreak of it, Heath thought sadly. If a dog like Goliath became vicious, it was a serious liability to the county. That possibility would rest heavily on the minds of the county commissioners when they called a meeting to decide Goliath’s fate. They would undoubtedly order Heath to have the Rottweiler destroyed.

“You live right over there?” the salesman asked, leaning
to look out the window at Heath’s house. At Heath’s affirmative reply, the man glanced down at Meredith. “So you and the sheriff are neighbors then.”

Heath drew a card from his breast pocket. “I’ll take care of any medical bills you incur. I’m sure you’ll want to see a doctor with that immediately.”

The salesman flashed a weak smile, looking rather sheepish. He flicked another glance at Meredith and shrugged. “It’s just a couple of tooth marks.” His smile took hold, spreading across his swarthy face. “I kind of lost my temper, ma’am. I’m sorry for yelling.” He ran a hand over his hair again. “The truth is, I should have had better sense. The dog growled to warn me away and I reached toward the kid, anyway.”

Heath didn’t know what to say. This wasn’t going anything like he’d expected. No threats to sue, no blustering. He glanced at Deputy Moore, who looked as nonplussed as Heath felt.

“You really should see a doctor,” Heath finally found the presence of mind to say. “A dog bite can become badly infected.”

The salesman parted the ripped sleeve of his jacket to peer more closely at his arm. “Nah. A little disinfectant is all it needs. The dog has all its shots, right?”

Heath nodded, not quite able to believe they were getting off this easily. If the man didn’t file a complaint, it might make a difference for Goliath when this went before the board.

Moore looked up from his clipboard. “You aren’t going to pursue this, sir?”

“I don’t wanna get the dog in trouble.” The salesman smiled again. “I’m a big fan of dog cops. Watch all the movies about them. And, like I said, it was my own fault. When the dog growled, I should’ve backed off.”

Amazed, Heath turned to watch the salesman move out the front door. Just like that, and the guy was leaving? He hadn’t even asked to have the jacket replaced.

Moore stepped to the doorway. “Wait a minute, sir. You never gave me your name.”

The salesman stopped halfway to his car to glance back. “Not necessary. Whatever that is you’re filling out, just tear it up, okay? As far as I’m concerned, this never happened.”

“Did I leave him enough room to get out of the drive?” Heath asked his deputy.

Moore nodded, the frown on his face conveying that he couldn’t quite believe the man was leaving. “No figuring people, is there?” he finally said. “Just when you think you’ve got them pegged, they surprise you.”

Heath had to agree. “I guess we shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth.”

“Amen to that.” Moore drew the top sheet of paper from his clipboard and crumpled it in his fist. “Well, Sheriff, I guess that settles it. Unless you decide differently, this never happened. Jenny Rose will keep her mouth shut.”

The question was, would Moore? Heath was tempted to ask, to even try bribing the younger man. But he quickly discarded the notion. This had to be handled on the up and up. He had taken an oath to uphold the law, not only when it suited him, but always. Oregon had a law governing dog bites. The board of county commissioners had to be notified, and it would be up to them to decide Goliath’s fate. Heath could do things no other way and retain the respect of his men.

“It’s not quite that simple, Tom. You know it, and I know it.”

“Yeah. Goliath’s a great dog, though. It’s a damned shame.”