Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 56782 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 284(@200wpm)___ 227(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56782 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 284(@200wpm)___ 227(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
Running his file over in her brain, she knew he’d been trained in Dutch before he’d learned English commands. She could work with that. Going to directly back into his run, she smiled over the way her dogs were playing. “Soon, boy. You’ll be running happy like that.” Her words didn’t stop him from moving. At least he’d not running to get away from me.
Back inside, she walked in the front of his run, holding his food. Setting it down, she waited to see if there would be any interest. Nothing more than a quick look.
“Eat.” She gave the command in Dutch.
If a dog could grumble with discontent then he did, but he followed her order. She waited in there until he ate the full dishful of chow. Only then did she pick it up and leave him alone. “I’ll be back.”
And she was. Day after day, they worked together. She took him on runs around the property, groomed him, and took him into her training facility and allowed him to do some runs over the agility course and over the one she had set for police dogs.
One afternoon as she sat at her desk while he ran free in the building, a wet nose glanced along the back of her hand. With a quick peek at her watch she smiled. She’d been running him through the course at a certain time each day and she was late by a minute. Hugo was reminding her.
She turned her attention to him. “Ready to get some work done, Hugo?” As usual the question came in Dutch as it had day in and day out. The slight wag of his tail brought tears to her eyes. “Let’s do it then.” She kissed the top of his head and got up from her seat. He paced her over to the course.
Keeping the leash snapped to her waist, she coughed. “Off leash today, Hugo. Let’s see how well you’re going to listen. You’d had some hesitation, but you’re working well now so it’s going to be a bit different. We’re changing up the course this time.” She bent down and dug her fingers into his coat—which was gaining its glossiness back. By his ear, she whispered, “We can do this, Hugo. You and me.” Another kiss between the ears and she stood upright and got ready to go.
Hugo knocked it out of the park. She spoke Dutch the full way, giving commands and praise as they went along, added more twists and turns, doubling back. When they finished, she whooped and gathered him close, showering him with praise.
Pulling back, she stared into his eyes. He inched closer and touched his nose to her chin. “I think it’s time you feel like you’re part of the family, Hugo. You’re coming inside with me. You need to belong again and it’s time I stop keeping you apart. We still have a way to go but this was one hell of a start.”
* * *
αβ
* * *
John slipped out of his brother’s truck with a nod to him and allowed the darkness to swallow him up. Terri had tracked Tiltman’s phone to this location and they were going to bring him in. Davis had gone to a friend in the FBI and asked for some help. It was a guy he’d gone to school with, which was why he trusted him. John was still a bit skeptical, but he did trust his brother.
Davis was going to be listening in with Morriston—the friend with the FBI—and come in after they got the confession. Personally, John wanted to go in and just beat it out of him but cooler heads prevailed.
The building looked like a crack house. He pulled open one door and slipped inside the darkened interior. According to the trace, he was on the third floor fifth room down. Avoiding the people slumped over in the hall, he progressed cautiously up the stairwell. On the third floor, he flexed his fingers over the shotgun in his hand and made his way to the door.
Ear to the wood, he listened but only heard grunting sounds. Great, just my luck I get to do this when the guy’s in the middle of fucking someone. He tested the handle, not at all shocked to find it unlocked. He entered slowly, a single light was on casting a faint glow over the man’s bare ass humping something beneath it.
The air was stale with a nasty combination of sweat, sex, and drugs. John cocked the shotgun; perfectly aware it was a sound most people knew and recognized.
“Tiltman,” he said when the man froze. “Turn over slowly and if there is any suspicion in my mind that you may be going for a gun, I’ll blow a hole into you.”
“Prince?” The man glanced over his shoulder at him, his watery blue eyes wide with shock before they settled. “Damn, man, we thought you were dead. Why are you holding a shotgun on me?”