Second Chance Soldier

by Linda O. Johnston

  “That’s right. But—”

  “Good. And I assume you have a protective suit. If Percy’s available tomorrow, this is the time for him to film a session, like he suggested, and put the whole thing up on your website as fast as possible as a teaser about what we’re starting to do. Some of my training sessions with your young shepherds, too, within the next week. In fact, I want to run downtown now and recruit Percy, give him the parameters of what I’m thinking and get his thoughts about the best way to handle this. It’s nothing you haven’t thought about, but I’m ready to jump on it.”

  “Well, sure,” Amber said, her eyes large, as if she was surprised at the direction of his thinking.

  In a way, he was surprised, too. But encouraged that he was allowing himself to be put on film, on the internet, in the public eye.

  He would be casting aside his reluctance to even talk to strangers, let alone be stared at by them. He needed to get to the point that he no longer had any residual PTSD.

  Hard? Hell yes.

  But it was important to the job he’d been hired to do, and he knew he had to get there eventually. And it would help Amber even more.

  Now was as good a time as any.

  It also gave him a good excuse to go downtown, as Amber had done before.

  “Just let me put Lola inside, and we can go.” Amber started up the porch steps with her dog.

  But Evan stopped her with his next words. “Thanks, but I’ll give Percy a call and head down there myself—or just Bear and me.” His mind quickly sought a good reason for her not to join them. Mostly, he initially just wanted to check things out with Percy on his own. “I’ll only brainstorm with him now, then when he comes here, hopefully tomorrow, you can give him more detailed instructions.”

  “All right.” She spoke slowly, not sounding happy. Her slight scowl underscored her displeasure. “I’ve got things I need to do around here anyway. But be sure to give me a rundown when you get back about what the plans are for tomorrow. Meantime, I’ll check with Orrin about his availability.” Her stare then made it clear she wouldn’t accept anything less.

  “Of course,” he said. “We’ll see you later.”

  *

  Ending their outing this way made Amber feel even worse. No answers, or even additional thoughts on how to learn what had happened to her dad.

  And now Evan had decided he was ready for something she’d already intended, though she hadn’t pushed him on it: publicizing his training skills in a way they could really promote to the world.

  Why now?

  Well, why not now?

  She raised one hand to wave goodbye to him though he’d already walked away, then led Lola into the house, feeling strangely bereft in many ways.

  She was in charge, yet Evan had taken charge of something that should be her decision.

  Her thoughts about her father were at the front of her mind, as they often were, and the little bit of effort Evan and she had made that should have helped her had only made things worse.

  Now she was leaving Evan’s presence for the rest of the day and evening. It hadn’t even felt appropriate to invite him to dinner or even for a drink. Whatever he and Percy concluded, he’d probably just call to tell her about it.

  He had something he wanted to do right away. Something that should benefit them both. But she’d feel a lot better if she had been able to remain in his company a little longer.

  Bad idea. She didn’t want to start relying on Evan for anything but dog training, especially not to help her sorry state of mind.

  She opened the front door and scooted Lola in. “Hi, Mom,” she called in as perky a voice as she could manage.

  “Hi, dear,” her mom called back from somewhere near the kitchen.

  Good. Her mother was home. She’d at least have some company for the evening.

  Although, she hoped she could avoid talking much about their visit to the murder site.

  *

  Despite what Amber had said, Evan knocked on Orrin’s door. The ranch hand was there and, standing just inside with Bear, Evan gave him a quick rundown of tomorrow’s possible plans. “Amber will be in touch with you later to make sure you’re on board,” Evan told the young guy, figuring that letting him know their employer expected it of him would get his cooperation, although he expected a scowl.

  Instead, Orrin’s smile moved the edges of his light brown beard and mustache upward. “Yeah. Sure. I’ve kind of missed that,” he said.

  Being attacked by dogs? Interesting. But Evan just said, “Great.”

  Then Evan hurried to his house. In the small living room, Bear lying on the floor beside him, Evan called Percy. Fortunately, the guy would be around his store for another hour or two. He sounded happy that Evan wanted to stop in and talk about possibilities for the K-9 Ranch website that he’d hopefully be able to help with.

  Because he wanted the money, or because he’d impress Amber? The latter made Evan frown, but he shook it off.

  Then Evan got out his laptop and returned to a couple of sites that described the murder of Corbin Belott.

  He concentrated on media interviews of authorities who’d investigated the crime, including Kara Province.

  That information fed into the other reason he intended to head downtown. And finally, it was time to get on his way.

  Four o’clock in the afternoon might not be the best time to catch the people he wanted to talk to at the police station, but he could at least initiate conversations he hoped to have.

  “So what do you think?” he asked Bear, who rode in the back seat as usual. “I’ll bet you can help with what I hope to do with the cops.”

  Reaching the first of the downtown Chance streets, he stopped at a traffic light and glanced into his rearview mirror. Bear, lying down, lifted his head and stared back, mouth open as if he had something to say, like “Can’t wait.”

  Sure, he was putting words into his dog’s mouth, but Evan couldn’t help smiling at how much Bear wanted to please him, as usual.

  He found a metered spot first near Cords and Clouds on Mercer Street, parked and got Bear out. He fed the meter, noted that there weren’t many pedestrians or cars around, then went inside.

  “Hi, Evan,” Percy called right away. He stood up from behind the table where he’d been sitting—unsurprisingly—behind a computer. The geeky guy’s hair was all over the place, and he wore a white T-shirt with a logo in the middle depicting a memory stick. “Good to see you.”

  That was probably a lie. Or maybe it was true since he might be bringing Percy some business.

  Keeping his gaze on Bear so he didn’t have to look the geek straight in the face, he told the guy he’d been working with the young dogs at the ranch on their early K-9 training. “I’m with you now about those online videos we said we’d let you know about. It’s time to start. It’ll still be a while before the young K-9s learn what they’ll need to be taken into police departments, but I want to demonstrate what we’re doing here. It might even be good to record different stages on video, so we can put together a show of how we’ll be training at the ranch. But there’s something even more potentially exciting for getting the ranch’s name out there that I want to start tomorrow.”

  “And Amber wants me to put all of it on the website to attract students for new classes?” The guy both looked and sounded excited.

  “That’s it,” Evan agreed.

  “Great. I’ll be happy to come out and film whatever you’re doing tomorrow, and other days, too. You can let Amber know. What time tomorrow?”

  “I’ll talk to her and we’ll figure that out.”

  Evan thanked the guy and said goodbye. And sighed deeply as Bear and he left the shop. He’d be recorded for history tomorrow. Put himself out there, no matter how hard it still was. But all the reasons to do it were more important than his feelings.

  “Come on, boy.” He started leading Bear, on his leash, toward the police station.

  He would start asking questions in the
right, noncritical way to ensure, hopefully, that he’d get answers.

  Especially from the town’s K-9 cops.

  Chapter 14

  The walk with Bear to the police station in Chance’s civic center didn’t take long on sidewalks that were fairly empty except for a few strolling and chatting people who fortunately barely looked at him. Evan had been thinking about the best way to handle this initial conversation for a while and knew he had it covered.

  Besides, since he had moved to Chance—had it really been only days ago?—he had been meeting a lot of new people, sometimes several at a time, and had been fine with it. He’d conversed with them fairly well, and given dog-training lessons, and he had felt even more comfortable when he spoke with Amber.

  She was different from the other people he dealt with, and he was glad he got along so well with her. Very glad.

  He was proud of how he’d been doing. In fact, maybe he was making progress on finally getting past the last of his PTSD, or so he hoped, although he realized he was likely to always have at least a trace within him. After all, it had only been a couple of years since the explosion, but he had done well enough that the last counselor he had spoken with in LA had said he could do without more therapy unless he started getting worse again.

  And the people he was about to speak with were cops.

  He soon reached the station and entered the building. A few people milled around in groups in the lobby, none in uniform so he assumed they were civilians. He approached the reception desk, ready to ask the questions he had already decided on to try to get to see the K-9 officers.

  But as he reached the tall enclosure, Assistant Police Chief Kara got there, too, from a doorway at the side of the room. “Well, hello,” she said cheerily, glancing first into Evan’s face, which made him uncomfortable, but he didn’t look away. Then she looked down at Bear. “Is your dog on duty, or is it okay to pet him?”

  “Sure, go ahead and say hi.” It occurred to Evan that running into her first might be helpful. “Are your K-9 officers on duty? I didn’t call first, but I was in town and thought I’d stop in to meet them.”

  “I think they’re here, but I’ll check. Why, do you think you can teach them something new? Or do you want them to teach you something new?” She smiled sardonically at Evan.

  The assistant chief was a pretty woman, slender in her black, long-sleeved uniform and somewhat young, Evan thought, to have such an important job. Was it because she was particularly skilled, or because Chance was a small enough town that they hired whoever they could in official positions?

  “Maybe a little of both.” He managed a brief smile back at her. He wasn’t about to tell her why he was really here: to ask the K-9 cops whether they’d visited the murder site when scents would still be fresh, and how their dogs reacted.

  “Let me go check,” she said. “Be right back.” Kara walked toward a hall to Evan’s right. She returned in a few minutes. “Yes, they’re in the main K-9 room, at the back of the station. Come with me.”

  “Thanks. Bear, heel.”

  Kara had started walking back toward the hallway but stopped and looked down again. Unsurprisingly, the leashed Bear was following Evan’s instruction.

  “What a good boy,” Kara said. That was potentially helpful, Evan thought. Whatever kind of cop this woman was, she apparently was a dog lover.

  “Yes,” he responded warmly, “he is.” He paused. “Are you interested in observing a K-9 training session tomorrow? That’s the main reason I came this afternoon. I’m doing a demo to be filmed for the ranch’s website and thought I’d invite your K-9 officers to observe. It might be good for all of us.” Especially if they described their own training. Had it all been by Corbin?

  How well had they known Corbin?

  And how hard had they attempted to investigate his death?

  “Sure, I’d like that. I do watch our unit’s internal training sessions sometimes.”

  The hallway was long, with doors in the white plaster walls that sometimes had names posted near them and other times led into additional halls. At the end, Kara opened a door with glass at the top. “Here we are.” She pushed it open and motioned for Evan to enter, which he did with Bear preceding him.

  The office was fairly large, with two desks facing each other at the end. A German shepherd sat in front of the one occupied by a guy in a black cop uniform similar to Kara’s, and a golden retriever was in front of the other, whose occupant was a female uniformed officer. Both people rose, and the dogs moved only enough to look at their respective apparent handlers.

  Well trained, Evan thought.

  “Hi.” He approached as if it was completely easy for him—and he was surprised that he didn’t, in fact, feel uncomfortable. “I’d imagine Assistant Chief Province told you, but I’m Evan Colluro, the new trainer at the Chance K-9 Ranch.”

  That assistant chief stood beside one of the desks and nodded toward Evan. Apparently, he’d phrased that in a way she approved of. Good.

  “Yes,” said the woman. “I’m Officer Maisie Murran, and this is Officer Doug Murran. And in case you’re wondering about the similarity of our names, we’re not only the department’s K-9 handlers, but we’re also brother and sister.”

  “Good to meet you.” Evan approached her with his hand out for a shake, then did the same with her brother. Good. He was, in fact, making progress.

  They both appeared in their midthirties, older than Evan. Maisie looked a year or two older than her brother, with short hair a shade of light blond that Evan figured needed help to get to that color. Doug’s hair was a light brown, shorter than his sister’s—a professional law-enforcement-type cut.

  “This is Bear.” Evan gestured to his dog, who now sat obediently beside him. “And yours?”

  “Hooper and Griffin,” Doug said. Both dogs stood alertly as their names were spoken. “Hooper, go shake.” The shepherd skirted around Bear as he approached Evan, sat and held out his paw. It was Griffin’s turn next.

  Once more, Evan was impressed with their training. Plus, he thought this an appropriate time to bring up the questions he’d come here to ask.

  “I can give Bear a similar command,” he said, “but I figure you know he’d do well at it. He’s former military and I’ve given him additional training, too. He’s now my example of a well-trained police K-9 in my classes.”

  “I’ll bet he is,” Doug said, “and we’re glad you’re there—assuming you’re good at what you do.”

  “You’re assuming right,” Evan said. He jumped right in. “You’re clearly familiar with the K-9 Ranch. Did you train at all with Corbin Belott?”

  “Yes,” Maisie replied, her tone soft and sad. “He was a good man. A good trainer.”

  “We’ve taken classes elsewhere, too,” Doug said, “but he was our first instructor, and though the department acquired Griffin from somewhere else, Hooper was one of the dogs Corbin selected as a young pup and trained to become a police K-9.”

  Evan thought about glancing toward Kara to see her reaction but decided against it. Instead, continuing to stand with just Bear near him, he got to the crux of why he’d actually come. “I heard what happened to him. It was a damn shame. And I gather that the crime hasn’t been solved yet?” He let the last sentence become a question.

  “No,” Kara said from beside him. “It hasn’t.” Her tone was firm, as if instructing him not to go further with his inquiry.

  He nevertheless inhaled deeply, steeling himself to go on.

  “From what I heard, Corbin’s body was found near the woodlands at the top of the ranch property.” He decided not to say anything yet about having seen the area, but looked first toward Maisie, then toward Doug, who’d resumed sitting behind the desks, their dogs still in the middle of the room. “I’m not sure what your dogs’ skills are—” although he assumed that, as K-9s, they were at least tracking dogs and most likely had other abilities, too, probably involving additional kinds of scenting “—but did you bring
them to that area to see what they could find?”

  “Yes,” Maisie said. “They seemed to react at first, searched the entire area, but didn’t locate anything we could use to track or identify the suspect.” She kept her voice even but Evan sensed emotion behind it anyway. She probably wasn’t happy that not more had been determined by their K-9s.

  Neither was Evan, since when these dogs would have been brought to the site all scents would have been fairly fresh.

  “That’s a shame,” he said nevertheless. He wanted to establish as good a relationship as possible with this local unit. Maybe he could even help them train their K-9s better, for next time. Although he hoped there wouldn’t be a next time.

  But since Corbin’s killer was still out there, who knew what awaited this town?

  “How about the murder weapon?” Evan asked. “Are they skilled at scenting something like that?”

  “Yes, but they came up with nothing,” Maisie said.

  “Do you know the type of weapon?” Evan persisted, making himself look from one officer’s face to the other’s.

  “Yes, although we haven’t made it public,” Doug said.

  “Can you tell me the make?”

  Both K-9 officers looked toward Kara, who was to Evan’s left, and she shrugged. “He’s not a suspect, so go ahead. Evan, this is to go no further. But if your dog happens to locate a weapon somewhere on the ranch, it won’t hurt for you to know.”

  “Of course I’ll keep it confidential,” Evan assured them, and was told it was a Smith & Wesson—but they chose not to tell him the model, though they’d have been able to ID it from the bullets found.

  “Is there anything else you can tell me that’s not public? I mean, if the K-9s were there soon after the homicide, did they alert onto any kind of scent?” Evan knew he was treading on thin ice, but it didn’t hurt to ask.

  “Cadaver location only,” Kara said, and the firmness in her voice made him back off. She continued, though. “But be assured that there are other things about the case we can’t reveal that involve progress in solving it.”