Cornered In Conard County

Chapter Two

Two hours later, Dory sat in the middle of the dog run, laughing while Flash licked her face. “He doesn’t wear out!”

“Not easily,” Cadell agreed. “I guess he’s chosen you, too. He needs a little more training with you to cement his role, but if you want you can take him back to Betty’s with you.”

“She has three cats!”

“They might not like it, but Flash will leave them alone. Okay, I’ll keep him here for now. I wouldn’t mind tightening up his training some more.” He dropped down onto the ground beside her, knees up slightly, arms hanging loosely over them. “Betty told me a bit about what’s going on. Want to talk a little?”

She tensed. Here she’d been having such a good time, and now this popped up. She wanted to resent him for it but could understand his curiosity. After all, he was training a guard dog for her. “Will it help?”

He caught her gaze and held it, an electric moment that conveyed compassion, as well. “Up to you, but I usually like to know what kind of threats my dogs will be working on. It allows me to hone their training. A bomb-sniffing dog doesn’t always make a good attack dog.”

She nodded slowly, looking down at her crossed legs and Flash’s head, now settled comfortably on her lap. Her fingers were buried in his scruff, the massaging movement comforting him as well as her. Dang dog was magical, she thought.

Finally she sighed. “Betty probably told you the important parts. My older brother killed our parents. I was seven and I walked in on it. Anyway, somehow he only got twenty-five years, not life, and he’s getting out soon.”

She turned to look at him again, her voice becoming earnest. “I have no reason to think he’ll be the least interested in finding me. I haven’t seen or talked to him since that night. He never even wrote me from prison. But...I’m having a lot of nightmares at night, and no matter how much I tell myself...”

“You still can’t quite believe he’s not a threat to you,” he completed. “Hardly surprising, given what you saw him do.” He paused. “So he never once tried to get in touch with you all these years?”

She couldn’t understand why that appeared to bother him. “No. Which means he isn’t interested in me at all. He’s probably all but forgotten me.”

“Maybe so, but I guess your subconscious isn’t buying it.”

In spite of herself, she emitted a short laugh. “Apparently not. I feel so silly sometimes. Nightmares every night? And now a guard dog. That’s over-the-top.”

He shook his head a little. “I don’t think it’s over-the-top. Nothing wrong with having a guard dog around, not for anyone. At the very least, Flash will be good company.”

She looked down at the dog she was petting. “He sure will be. He’s wonderful. Petting him feels good.”

“It feels good to him, too. But you’ll have to work him every day so he doesn’t turn couch potato on you.”

Astonishment filled her. “Couch potato? Him?”

“Well, I don’t mean he’s going to get lazy. But he needs to remain sharp, so every day you’re going to have to work with him for at least a half hour. Can you do that?”

“Sure. It’ll be fun for both of us.”

He smiled. “Good. You’ll be a great handler for him. He likes the work, you know. For him it’s a fun game. Now let’s get busy on the attack training. I’m going to put on my padded suit, and you’re going to make him attack me.”

She felt perplexed. “But he knows you and likes you! Why would he attack you?”

“Because it doesn’t matter that he knows me. Protecting you is all that’s going to matter. When you tell him to attack, he’ll attack. It’s not his job to make decisions like that, but to take care of you. You’ll see.”

She still hesitated, concerned. “Does he know how to attack?”

“We’ve been practicing. Now it’s time to get serious.”

He rose in a single easy movement and went down the run to a shed at the end, disappearing inside. When he returned he wore thick padding on both arms.

Even so, that didn’t seem like a whole lot of padding. Flash recognized it immediately and rose to his feet, tail wagging. Dory stood, too.

“He’s been practicing on a dummy,” Cadell said. “Now he gets the real thing.”

They left the run and went out to a paddock, where the two ostriches stared at them over a fence. “Tell him what to do right now,” Cadell said mildly.

Dory hesitated, then remembered. “Flash, heel.”

The dog immediately came to stand alertly beside her. In all her life, she was sure she had never seen such an incredibly well-behaved dog. He was now still, watchful and right where she wanted him.

“Now you’re not going to tell him to attack,” Cadell said. “For that I don’t like to use such an obvious word, one that he could hear in ordinary speech. It’s not only tone that matters. They can pick words right out of a conversation. Now, some dog trainers don’t worry about that, but I do. I don’t want officers getting in trouble because someone is claiming to have been attacked and the dog reacts somehow.”

She nodded, her heart beating nervously. “I understand.” But she wasn’t at all sure she wanted to command this dog to attack.

“The word I use is fuss. Long u sound. Like foos.”

Her sense of humor poked its head up. “I hope I remember that when I need it.”

“Well...” His eyes crinkled at the corners. “We’ll practice until it becomes natural. But since you’re going to start with a very simple command every night when you go to bed, or when you take him out, he’ll know what to do even if he doesn’t hear the word.”

“Meaning?” She began to feel confused.

“If you tell him to guard, he will. And he won’t always need an attack command to protect you. He’s capable of evaluating a threat that gets too close. This is for when something is a little farther away and he might not see it as a threat to you immediately.”

“Ah, okay.” Now she was beginning to understand.

He patted her shoulder with his padded mitt. “It’s about to all come together. I’m going to walk away about twenty feet. You’re going to give the guard command. Then I’m going to turn around and point a toy gun at you. Pay attention to what happens as I approach you.”

Okay, she thought. She could do this. “Flash, guard,” she said. She felt the dog shift a little beside her but didn’t look down at him.

About twenty paces away, Cadell turned around. He held a gun in right hand, but it was pointed down. Flash didn’t stir a muscle. Step by step Cadell approached. At ten feet he raised the gun and pointed it at her. Flash didn’t need another command. He took off like a shot and bit into the padding on Cadell’s right forearm.

“My God,” Dory whispered. She’d had no idea. The dog clung to that threatening arm and wouldn’t let go even as Cadell tried to shake him off and whirled in circles, lifting Flash’s feet from the ground.

“Stop him,” Cadell finally said.

“Flash, release,” Dory ordered, remembering the command he had taught her to make the dog drop his toy. Flash obeyed immediately, looking at her. “Heel.”

He trotted over to her, looking quite pleased with himself.

“Now the reward,” Cadell said.

Which was the yellow tennis ball. She told him he was a good boy as she gave him the ball. Flash chewed on it a few times, then dropped it at her feet, begging for her to throw it, so she did. He raced happily after it.

“It’s just that simple,” Cadell said, watching her as much as he watched the dog. “A few more steps, a couple of days of practice and he’ll do anything for you.”

She squatted, encouraging Flash to come back to her. “How do I let him know it’s okay not to be on guard?”

“Throw his ball. That means playtime.”

So simple, she thought. And so amazingly complex all at the same time. Beautiful, too, she thought as she hugged the Malinois. The dog already made her feel safer. What’s more, he made her feel as if she weren’t quite as alone.

* * *

AFTER DORY LEFT with Betty, Cadell spent the afternoon working with two more officers who were training to become handlers. What they needed was more complex than what Dory needed, and the training was going to take a little longer. Simple fact was, while a civilian could get in some trouble for a misbehaving dog, a cop could have his career ruined. Or the department could be sued. Plus, these guys went into a wider variety of situations, situations that required tracking, rescuing and so on. Dory wouldn’t need all those skills.

When he finished that up, he ate a quick dinner, then headed into the sheriff’s office to do his shortened shift. On training days, he worked as a deputy for no more than four hours.

Before he left, he took time to feed the ostriches their very expensive feed and open up their pen so they had more room for roaming. Neither of them appeared appreciative.

He and his dog Dasher, also a Malinois, drove into town in his official vehicle and parked near the office. Inside, they found the place quietly humming. Another placid night in Conard County, evidently. He was surprised sometimes how much he enjoyed the relief from the much higher activity level of Seattle. Must be getting old, he thought with an inward smile. Yeah, like thirty-five was ancient.

Dasher settled beside his desk, tucked his nose between his paws and just watched. Since nothing seemed to be happening, he used the computer on his desk to look up the story of Dory Lake and her brother. He felt no qualms about discovering what he could from public records about that incident. He wasn’t snooping, but he’d be learning what she had faced and would get a much better threat assessment than Dory’s, which seemed to be somewhere between terror and dismissal.

He wasn’t surprised to find a twenty-five-year-old case still accessible. The basic police report would be available for many years to come in case George Lake ever got into trouble again. It was nice, however, to find it had all been digitized. Newspaper archives were also ready and waiting.

So Dory, just turned seven, had been found screaming in the middle of the street at nearly 2:00 a.m. Neighbors had come running and called the police, who arrived in time to catch George Lake trying to flee the scene. Open-and-shut as far as George was concerned. He’d wiped the murder weapon, but he was far too drenched in blood to claim innocence. For some reason, not clearly explained, he’d been offered a plea bargain for twenty-five years. Drugs appeared to be involved, and the father had been abusive. He guessed the prosecutor couldn’t pull together enough to uphold a first-degree murder charge, so George had accepted a bargain down to twenty-five. Without a trial, there was very little in the record to explain any of this.

But what stuck with him was a newspaper account. Apparently, when Dory had stopped screaming, the only words she had said for nearly a year were red paint.

God. He sat back in his chair and closed his eyes, seeing it all too clearly. The child had been well and truly traumatized. There was even a mention of hysterical blindness, a conversion disorder, but that hadn’t lasted as long as her refusal to speak.

She’d been taken in by her godparents and raised by them, so no additional trauma from foster care, but what difference did that make after what she’d seen? No one, at least in these files, knew exactly how much she had seen, but it was clearly enough to be shrieking in the middle of the road and rendered dumb for nearly a year.

Except for red paint.

He’d seen a lot of bad stuff during his career, but the thought of little Dory in the middle of the street...well, the story was enough to break his heart.

As for her mixture of feelings about George...well, that was settled in his mind when he read that Dory had received the entire—very large—insurance payout and all the rest of the property. George might be feeling cheated. In fact, Cadell was inclined to believe he was. He’d lost his entire inheritance because he’d been convicted of killing his parents. He might be thinking he could get some of that back. Make Dory pay him to leave her alone.

Or maybe worse. Because it occurred to him that if Dory died, her only heir would be her brother...and if he weren’t linked to her death...

Hell. He switched over to the reports menu and tried to shake the ugly feelings.

Being a cop had made him a much more suspicious man by nature. Sometimes he had to pull himself back and take a colder view, stifle his feelings and use his brain.

But his gut was telling him this wasn’t good at all.

* * *

DORY WAS ALL excited about Flash when she saw Betty again that afternoon. “I feel like a kid at Christmas,” she confided. “That dog is wonderful. I fell in love instantly.”

Betty laughed and poured the coffee. “I knew a dog was a good idea. He’ll brighten your days even if you never need him.”

“I need him already,” Dory admitted. “I’m so used to living in a world that exists only on my computer I’d forgotten a few other things might be nice. A friend like you, a dog like Flash.”

“A man like Cadell,” Betty remarked casually.

It took a second for Dory to catch on. “Betty! Are you trying to matchmake?”

“Never.” Betty grinned at her. “I just meant you should give him a chance to be a friend. He’s been in town for a year now, and I haven’t heard anything but kind words about him. So I’m fairly certain you can trust him...as a friend. But I ought to warn you—grapevine has it that he had a messy divorce and he doesn’t even date.”

Dory shifted uncomfortably. She was well aware that Betty felt she cut herself off too much from the real world. And not just because of her job.

But trust didn’t come easily to her. It hadn’t since that night. It had even taken her godparents a while to get past the barriers that had slammed in place back then. If she hadn’t already known and loved them, it might never have happened. Betty was the unique exception, worming her way past ice and stone and into Dory’s heart.

“I’ll try, Betty,” she said eventually. “But I tend to get stubborn if I feel pushed.” And anyway, she hadn’t missed Betty’s warning about Cadell’s aversion to women. Which suited her fine.

“Tell me about it, girl.” Then Betty laughed. “No pushing. Just saying Cadell’s a nice guy and you can trust him. I’d never advise you to reach for more than that. Anyway, I’ve got some women friends you’d probably like, too, but you notice I haven’t invited them over since you arrived.”

Instantly Dory felt ashamed. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to disrupt your life. You should just keep living the way you always do. If I get uncomfortable, I can take a walk. And I’ll be in my new place soon. I can go tonight if you want.”

Betty sat straight up. “What makes you think I want you to go? Cut it out. I love having you here. Anyway, you’re not moving until Cadell gives you a dog.” Pause. “When is George getting out?”

“Tomorrow, I think. Or maybe the next day.” She looked down. “You’d think the date would be engraved in my memory, considering what it’s doing to me.”

Betty’s face tightened. “Then you’re definitely staying with me. You need someone around when the nightmares disturb you. Maybe the dog will help once you have him. I hope so. But in the meantime, you’re not going anywhere.”

“They’re just dreams,” Dory protested, although neither her heart nor her gut entirely believed it. Her brother was a living, breathing monster, not some fantasy creature. She might never see him again. In fact, she hoped she never did. But as long as she was alive, he rode in the cold seas of her memory, a very real threat.

Later, as she helped Betty make dinner, she made up her mind. She was moving tomorrow. She’d dealt with the nightmares all her life. Maybe not as bad as they were right now, but she’d dealt with them. She could continue to deal with them.

But she wasn’t going to turn Betty into some kind of shut-in for her own benefit. No way. The woman had a life here and deserved to enjoy it. As for herself, well, even though George might be released tomorrow, there was no possible way for him to get here tomorrow. Or even the next day.

And she still couldn’t imagine any reason why he’d ever want to see her again. They’d been close when she was little. He’d held her on his lap and read to her to distract her from their parents’ fighting. But that had been a very long time ago. After twenty-five years, there was nothing left to put back together. Nothing.

Besides, whoever she had thought her brother was when she was little, he’d shattered all that one night in the kitchen. No way those shards would ever fit together again.

* * *

IN THE MORNING she drove herself out to Cadell’s ranch for another training session. Betty had a meeting to attend, but having been to the ranch once, Dory didn’t have any trouble finding the place. She loved driving down the battered county roads in the open places, looking at the mountains that appeared to jut up suddenly from nowhere. The land rolled, hinting at foothills, but these mountains looked as if they had been dropped there, not developed slowly over eons. Maybe that was just perspective, but she stored it in her mind for use someday in her art.

Cadell was waiting for her when she pulled up. He sat in a rocker on his wide front porch and stood immediately. The day was exquisite, Dory thought as she climbed out of her car. Warm but not hot, tickled by a gentle breeze. The kind of day where it was possible just to feel good to be alive.

“Howdy,” he said from the top of the steps. Today he wore a long-sleeved tan work shirt, sleeves rolled up, and jeans. “You want to get straight to work or do you have time for some coffee first?”

He probably wanted coffee himself, and while she was in a hurry, wanting to get her move taken care of during the afternoon, she decided to be polite. The man was doing her a big favor, after all.

Inside, his house was welcoming, showing signs that he was doing some renovation.

“Excuse my mess,” he said as they went to the kitchen. “My dad kind of let things go the last few years, and I couldn’t get away for long enough to really take this place in hand.”