Woof at the Door Read Free

trying to get a leash on him would probably have ended up in
     the hospital. That, or the dog would be shot. Maybe both.
    Jake let out an affirmative growl at the comment, waved a thick hand toward the doors.
     “The chief’s already been chewing my ass, and now we got Cujo here wanting a taste
     of it, too.” He mopped his brow with a limp handkerchief. “I got a call in to an animal
     trainer. She should be here soon.”
    That was my cue. No more stalling.
    I abandoned my column and started forward, stopping just behind CSU as he said, “She?
     You really think a woman will be able to handle him? What’s she bringing, a stun gun?”
    So much for thinking he was cute. “That won’t be necessary.” My tone was crisp, and
     as he turned, I gave him a look that could, and in fact had, stopped a polar bear
     in its tracks. I let my gaze roam over him in appraisal and cocked my head. “I’ve
     handled much worse.”
    I’ll say this, the guy had the good grace to seem sheepish and shot me an apologetic
     smile. I ignored it and turned to Jake. “Detective.”
    Jake made a quick introduction. “Grace Wilde, this is Sergeant Kai Duncan. Kai is
     with the Crime Lab.”
    I nodded curtly at Sergeant Duncan and turned back to Jake. “What’s the story?”
    Jake pointed at the back door. “Big Dobie in the backyard, seems to be trained as
     a guard dog. Got a nasty cut on his nose, and he’s pretty freaked out.”
    Understatement. “I’ve got my medical kit in my truck. I could calm him down, get the
     kit, and sew him up, but it would probably be best if I take him with me until you
     find out who will want to claim him.” I glanced at the body. “He doesn’t need to stay
     here.”
    “I don’t see a problem with that. Kai, you need to go over the dog for anything?”
    Kai shook his head. “It doesn’t look as though the killer would have made contact
     with the dog. If he had, we’d probably be processing two bodies.”
    Jake snickered at that and smiled at me. “Don’t I wish. He’s all yours.”
    Showtime. I walked forward, past the couch, to where I could finally see the dog.
     A slice of red ran down a cut on the side of the Doberman’s nose. As he barked, blood
     and saliva were hurled at the glass between us.
    I stopped and knelt in front of the French door. I had already calmed myself. Now
     it was time to work on him. With one final deep breath, I opened my mind to the dog.
     I was immediately overwhelmed with emotions—desperation, alarm, betrayal. Images of
     violence and pain flooded my mind. I pulled my thoughts away from the awful torrent
     and tried to drag the dog with me.
Okay, it’s okay. It’s not your fault
.
    The Doberman stopped snarling. I filled the space in our linked minds with white haze.
     Calm nothingness pressed out the horror.
    I whispered aloud, “All right, boy, I’m going to help you.” Slowly, I stood and turned.
     “The officer that brought me in told me not to touch anything. Would you open the
     door and let me out?”
    After a moment’s hesitation, Sergeant Duncan stepped forward. “You sure?”
    I arched a brow and waited. He moved to the door and turned the knob with a gloved
     hand.
    I slipped out as the door swung in. Dogs communicate in several ways. Smell, touch,
     sound. But most important is energy. My energy was different than any other human
     the dog had encountered. I was connected to his mind. I sent him waves of calm, alpha
     energy.
I will lead you. I will help you
.
    His master was gone. His job to protect fractured into uncertainty. Confusion and
     fear dominated his mind. I had to fill the void.
    Again, I knelt in front of the dog.
    It’s all right
.
Good boy
. I felt him relax measure by measure.
    The cut on his muzzle wasn’t that deep; a few stitches would work. I just needed to
     get him out of here. Reaching out slowly for his tags, I flipped past the license
     and looked over the two round brass plates. One was engraved with the word