Suspect (13 page)

“Says he lives here and wants to know what’s going on.”

Cowly nodded, and seemed to consider Daryl with a remote detachment.

“Your brother has been arrested on suspicion of burglary, theft, possession of stolen goods, possession of narcotics, and possession of narcotics with the intent to distribute.”

Daryl waited for her to continue. When she didn’t, he leaned sideways, trying to see inside through the open front door.

“Where’s Ganj?”

“Everyone within the house has been arrested. Your brother is being processed at the Rampart Community Police Station, and will then be transferred to the Police Administration Building.”

“Uh-huh. Okay. I got things in there. Can I go inside?”

“Not at this time. When the officers are finished, you’ll be allowed to enter.”

“I can leave?”

“Yes.”

Daryl Ishi slouched away without looking back. Maggie watched him, whimpering as she looked from Daryl to Scott.

Cowly said, “What’s wrong with her?”

“He probably smells like the house. She didn’t like that chemical odor.”

“Who in their right mind would?”

Cowly watched Daryl disappear down the street, and shook her head.

“How’d you like Marshall as your resident adult? That boy is following in his brother’s footprints right into his brother’s shitty life.”

She turned to Scott, and her professional face was softer.

“If this was unpleasant for you, I’m sorry. We should have explained why we wanted you here. Bud made it sound like we were doing you a favor.”

Scott’s head flooded with things to say, but they all sounded like apologies or excuses. He finally managed a shrug.

“Don’t sweat it.”

Scott said nothing more as they drove back to MacArthur Park. The SWAT van was gone, and only two radio cars and his Trans Am remained.

When Cowly stopped behind his car, he remembered the security videos and asked her about them.

“Melon got the security videos from Tyler’s and Club Red. Okay if I see them?”

She seemed surprised.

“Fine by me. All you’ll see is whatever the bartenders and waitresses said. They don’t show anything else.”

Scott tried to figure out how to explain.

“I’ve never seen Pahlasian and Beloit. Still pictures, yeah, but not alive.”

She gave a slow nod.

“Okay. I can make that happen.”

“They weren’t in the box.”

“Physical evidence is in the evidence room. I’ll dig them out for you. It probably won’t be today. I’ll be busy with Ishi.”

“I understand. Whenever is fine. Thanks.”

Scott got out, and opened the back door for Maggie. He clipped her lead, let her hop out, then looked at Cowly.

“I’m not crazy. It’s not like I have big holes in my head.”

Cowly looked embarrassed.

“I know you’re not crazy.”

Scott nodded, but didn’t feel any better. He was turning away when she called.

“Scott?”

He waited.

“I’d want to see them, too.”

Scott nodded again, and watched as she drove away. He checked the time. It was only ten minutes after eleven. He still had most of the day to work with his dog.

“You don’t think I’m crazy, do you?”

Maggie stared up at him and wagged her tail.

Scott scratched her ears, stroked her back, and gave her two pieces of baloney.

“You’re a good girl. A really good girl. I shouldn’t have taken you into that damned house.”

He drove to the training field, hoping the chemicals in the house hadn’t hurt Maggie’s nose. A dog man would know. A dog man would keep his dog safe.

20.

The sun beat down hot and hard on the training field, frying the grass and the men and the dogs.

Budress said, “No peeking.”

Sweat and sunblock dripped into Scott’s eyes.

“No one is peeking.”

Scott was crouched beside Maggie behind an orange nylon screen. The screen was pulled taut between two tent poles stuck into the ground. Its purpose was to prevent Maggie from seeing a K-9 officer named Bret Downing hide in one of four orange tents scattered at far points on the field. The tents were tall and narrow like folded beach umbrellas, and big enough to conceal a man. Once Downing was hidden, Maggie would have to use her nose to find him, and alert Scott by barking.

Scott was scratching her chest and praising her when a sharp explosion behind him caught them off guard. Budress had surprised them with the starter pistol.

Scott and Maggie cringed at the shot, but Maggie instantly recovered, licked her lips, and wagged.

Scott rewarded her with a chunk of baloney, squeaked what a good girl she was, and ruffled her fur.

Budress put away the gun.

“Somebody oughta feed you that baloney. You jump pretty good.”

“Could you step back a couple of feet next time? I’m going deaf.”

Budress surprised them three or four times during each session. He would fire the gun, and Scott would give Maggie a treat. They were trying to teach her to associate unexpected sounds with a positive experience.

Budress waved at Downing to continue.

“Stop whining and get her ready. I like to watch her hunt.”

They had already run the exercise eight times, with five different officers posing as “bad guys” to vary the scent. Maggie had been flawless. Scott was relieved to see Maggie’s sense of smell was unharmed by the chemical odors in Ishi’s house.

Earlier, Leland had watched for almost an hour, and was so impressed he took a turn playing the bad guy. Scott instantly saw why. Leland rubbed himself on all four tents, then climbed a tree at the end of the field. His trick confused her for all of twenty seconds, then she whiffed his track leading from the tents, and narrowed the cone until she found him.

Leland had trotted back from the tree without his usual scowl.

“That dog may be the best air dog I’ve seen. I do believe she could follow a fly fart in a hurricane.”

Air dogs excelled at tracking scent in the air. Ground dogs like bloodhounds and beagles worked best tracking scent particles close to or on the ground.

Scott was pleased with Leland’s enthusiasm, but relieved when Leland was called inside for a call. He worried Maggie’s limp would return with all the running, and Leland would see.

Now, with Leland gone, Scott felt more at ease, and enjoyed the work. Maggie knew what he expected of her, and Scott was confident with her performance.

When Downing disappeared inside the third tent, which was eighty yards across the field and slightly upwind, Budress gave Scott the nod.

“Turn her loose.”

Scott jiggled Downing’s old T-shirt in Maggie’s face, and released her.

“Smell it, girl. Smell it—seek, seek, seek!”

Maggie charged from behind the screen, head high, tail back, ears up. She slowed to test the air for Downing’s scent, then ran in a slow curve downwind of the tents. Thirty yards from the screen, Scott saw her catch the edge of Downing’s scent cone. She veered into the breeze, broke his ground scent, and powered hard for the third tent. Watching her dig in and stretch out when she accelerated was like watching a Top Fuel dragster explode off the line.

Scott smiled.

“Got him.”

Budress said, “She’s a hunter, all right.”

Maggie covered the distance to the tent in two seconds, jammed on the brakes, and barked. Downing eased out until he was in full view. Maggie stood her ground, barking, but did not approach him, as Scott and Budress had taught her.

Budress grunted his approval.

“Bring her in.”

“Out, Maggie. Out.”

Maggie broke away from the tent and loped back, pleased with herself. Her joy showed in her bouncy stride and happy, open-mouth grin. Scott rewarded her with another chunk of baloney and praised her in the high squeaky voice.

Budress shouted for Downing to take five, then turned to Scott.

“Tell you what, dog with her nose, she saved a lot of grunts finding IEDs. That’s a masterful fact. You can’t fool her.”

Scott ran his hand over Maggie’s back, and stood to ask Budress a question. Budress had worked with explosives-detection dogs in the Air Force, and knew almost as much about dogs as Leland.

“The house we were in reeked of crystal, that nasty chemical stink?”

Budress grunted, knowing the stink. Leland had the scowl, Budress the grunt.

“We go in, and right away she was whining and trying to search. You think she confused the ether with explosives?”

Budress spit.

“Smells don’t confuse these dogs. If she wanted a smell, it was a smell she knew.”

“When we were leaving, she alerted on this guy who lives there, same way.”

Budress thought for a moment.

“Were they making or using?”

“Does it matter?”

“We taught our dogs to alert to explosives like RDX and Semtex and whatnot, but we also taught’m the main components insurgents use for homemade explosives. Remember—the ‘I’ in IED stands for ‘improvised.’”

“These people were users. They weren’t cooking.”

Budress worked his lips as he thought about it some more, then shrugged and shook his head.

“Probably wouldn’t matter anyway. A couple of your typical meth lab components could be used to improvise an explosive, but the ingredients are too common. We never taught our dogs to alert to common materials. If we did, we’d have dogs alerting every time we passed a gas station or a hardware store.”

“So ether or starter fluid wouldn’t confuse her?”

Budress smiled at Maggie, and offered his hand. She sniffed, then lay down at Scott’s feet.

“Not this nose. If I asked you to point out the orange tents, would the green hedges or blue sky or the tree bark confuse you?”

“’Course not.”

“She smells like we see. Just laying here, she’s picking up thousands of scents, just like we’re seeing a thousand shades of green and blue and whatever. I say, show me the orange, you instantly spot the orange, and don’t think twice about all those other colors. It’s the same way for her with scents. If she was trained to alert to dynamite, you can wrap dynamite in plastic, bury it under two feet of horseshit, and douse the whole thing with whiskey, and she’ll still smell the dynamite. Ain’t she amazing?”

Scott studied Budress for a moment, and realized how much the man loved these dogs. Budress was a dog man.

Scott said, “Why do you think she alerted?”

“Dunno. Maybe you oughta tell your detective friends to search that house for IEDs.”

Budress burst out laughing, pleased with himself, then shouted for Downing to find a new tent.

“She’s looking real good. Give her some water, and we’ll do one more.”

Scott was clipping up Maggie for the tenth run when Leland stormed out of his office.

“Officer James!”

Scott turned, and heard Budress mumble.

“Now what?”

Leland covered the ground in long, angry strides.

“Tell me I’m wrong. Tell me you did not DARE to participate in a police action this morning without my permission.”

“I watched an arrest with the Robbery-Homicide detectives. I didn’t participate.”

Leland stomped closer until his nose was in Scott’s face.

“I know for a FACT you and your dog took part in an ARREST. My ASS was just reamed for that little FACT.”

Maggie growled—a low guttering warning, but Leland did not move.

“Call your dog out.”

“Out, Maggie. Down.”

Maggie didn’t obey. Her eyes were locked on Leland. Her muzzle wrinkled to show her fangs.

“Down.”

Maggie growled louder, and Scott knew he was losing more ground with Leland by the second.

Behind him, Budress spoke softly.

“You’re the alpha. Be alpha.”

Scott made his voice commanding.

“
Down
. Maggie,
down
.”

Maggie eased to her belly, but did not leave Scott’s side. She was totally focused on Leland, who was still totally focused on Scott.

Scott wet his lips.

“We did not take part in the arrest. We were not there as a K-9 team. I didn’t know there was going to be an arrest until I got to the Boat. I thought they wanted files back. That’s why I took Maggie with me. I assumed I would drop the files off, then come here. That’s it, Sergeant.”

Scott wondered who complained, and why. He flashed on the senior officer who crapped his pants when Maggie lunged; the officer who turned so red he looked like he was going to stroke.

Scott sensed Leland was trying to decide whether to believe him.

“We were out here for an hour, and you didn’t mention it. This makes me think you didn’t want me to know.”

Scott hesitated.

“The Homicide people thought my seeing the guy they arrested would trigger my memory. It didn’t. I don’t. It feels like I’m letting my partner down.”

Leland was silent for several seconds, but his scowl remained firm.

“It was reported you could not control your dog, and your dog attacked a civilian.”

Scott felt himself flush.
As red as the asshole who jumped
.

“I controlled Maggie and the situation, and no one was harmed. Kinda like now. With you.”

Budress spoke softly again, but this time to Leland.

“Looks like Scott has Maggie well in hand to me, Top. Even though she’s all set to rip out your throat.”

Leland’s scowl flicked to Budress, and Scott knew Budress had saved him.

Leland’s scowling eyes grew thoughtful.

“Do you want to remain in my K-9 platoon, Officer James?”

“You know I do.”

“And you still hope to convince me this dog should be approved by me as fit for duty?”

“I’m going to convince you.”

“Way it works is, my boss reams me about you, I get your back. I tell him my officer is an outstanding young officer who has surprised the hell out of me by the progress he has made with his dog, and I do not for one goddamn second believe he cannot control his dog, and anyone says otherwise better come over here and say it to my face.”

Scott didn’t know what to say. This was as close to a compliment as Leland had come.

Leland let it soak in, then continued.

“When all the back-gettin’ is done, I then ream you. We clear on this principle?”

“Yes, sir. We’re clear.”

“Fact is, this dog is not part of my K-9 platoon until I certify her, which I have not. If she had bitten this fool, and the vic’s money-chiseling lawyer found out YOU—a member of THIS platoon—exposed the public to an uncertified animal, they could and would sue the blue off our asses. I like my blue ass. Don’t you?”

“Yes, sir. I’m liking your blue ass just fine.”

“You lock this dog in her crate next time or you leave her with me. We clear?”

“Clear, Sergeant.”

A bead of sweat leaked down the side of Leland’s face. He wiped it slowly away using the hand with the missing fingers, and let the hand linger. Scott sensed Leland did this on purpose.

“Are you a dog man, Officer James?”

“You bet your blue ass.”

“It’s not my blue ass on the line.”

Leland stared into Scott’s eyes a moment longer, then took one step back and looked down at Maggie. She growled, low and deep in her big shepherd’s chest.

Leland smiled.

“Good dog. You’re a damned good dog.”

He looked up at Scott again.

“Dogs do what they do to please us or save us. They don’t have anything else. We owe them no less.”

He turned and stalked away.

Scott didn’t breathe until Leland disappeared into the building, then he turned to Budress.

“Thanks, man. You saved me.”

“Maggie saved you. He likes her. Doesn’t mean he won’t get rid of her, but he likes her. You should’ve left her here this morning.”

“I was scared he’d see her limp.”

Budress studied Maggie for a moment.

“She didn’t limp. Not once. Has she been limping at home?”

“Not once.”

Budress glanced up, and Scott could tell Budress knew he was lying.

“Then let’s not press it. Stow the gear. We’re done for today.”

Budress shouted for Downing to come in, and the two senior officers left Scott to clean up. Scott let Maggie off her leash, and was pleased when she stayed beside him. He broke down the screen, rolled it, and collected the four tents with Maggie beside him.

Scott rolled the last tent, and was carrying them toward the kennel when he glanced down and saw Maggie limping. Same as before, her right rear leg dragged half a heartbeat behind the left.

Scott stopped so Maggie would stop, and looked at the kennel. Leland’s window was empty. The door was closed. No one was watching.

Scott put down the tents, clipped Maggie’s lead, and hoisted the tents. He made her walk behind him so he was between Maggie and the building.

No one was inside when he stowed the tents. Budress, Downing, and the others were probably in the offices, or gone. Scott made sure the parking lot was empty before he led her to his car. Her limp had grown more and more obvious.

Scott fired the engine and backed away.

Maggie stepped forward on the console. Her tongue was out, her ears were folded, and she looked like the happiest dog in the world.

Scott laced his fingers in her fur. She looked at him and panted, content.

Scott said, “You bet your blue ass.”

He pulled out of the lot and headed for home.