by Martha Carr
“I bet he tastes better than squirrel.”
“More fat on him too.”
“Yeah, right on his fat ass. Get him!”
“Johnny!” Tommy roared. “Get these—oh, fuck!”
The man flung himself against the side of the SUV and narrowly avoided being tackled by Rex’s flying jump toward him. The larger coonhound slid across the dirt drive when he landed and threw up thick plumes of dust. The agent fumbled with the handle of the driver’s door, finally jerked it open, and scrambled into the front seat with a yelp of pain. As soon as he yanked the door shut again behind him, Luther leapt toward it and his huge front paws thumped on the window as he snarled in Agent Nelson’s wide-eyed, terrified face.
Rex snorted, shook his head, and spat a shredded wad of black slacks and bright red boxer briefs into the dirt.
“You got him!” Luther shouted.
“No way is that better than squirrel.” Rex pawed at his snout and snorted again. “Too salty.”
With a short rasping chuckle, Johnny swept the front door closed and returned to his workshop. His hounds bayed outside, but whatever Agent Nelson’s next protests were, they were too muffled by his car to be heard inside the cabin.
Johnny stopped in the doorway of his workshop, where Agent Lisa Breyer stood on the other side of the table in front of his cleaning box. His partially disassembled rifle admittedly looked damn nice in her hands. Her slow smile when she looked at him didn’t hurt, either.
“That’s not yours.”
She ignored his gruff attempt to shake her and watched him with a raised eyebrow as he moved slowly toward the table. “You’re taking the case, aren’t you?”
The closest he could get to nodding was a half-assed shrug. If she thinks she can weasel more out of me than that, she’s in the wrong business.
“Then I guess you and I are a team now, Johnny Walker.”
He leaned away from her and frowned. “Uh-uh. You’re barking up the wrong tree with that one, sweetheart.”
“Why? Because I’m a woman?”
Johnny snorted. “Because I don’t do teams.”
“Hmm.” Pursing her lips, she returned her attention to the rifle and her hands kicked into action. The trigger guard and firing mechanism slid out of the stock, followed by the stock, firing rod, and the assembly rod. “I’m on this case too, whether you like it or not. You can fight me all you want, and I know I can’t force you to play nice.”
In four seconds, she had his weapon pulled apart and raised her eyebrows without looking at him. Before he could respond, she slid all the components back into the right place in the right order.
“If you insist on not doing teams, Johnny, I’ll simply end up tracking the Boneblade on my own. And you. I’ll probably end up stepping on your toes and will slow you down. Or we can do this together. Who knows? I might even be more useful than you realize.”
Lisa snatched the rod he’d removed earlier, slid it into place, and lifted his fully reassembled rifle in both hands. Her smirk returned as she stepped around the table and stopped in front of him to hand him the weapon. “Your call.”
Johnny stared at her and narrowed his eyes. She knows her way around a firearm. I gotta admit it’s as sexy as hell.
He sniffed. “If we do this, I’m layin’ down some ground rules. Non-negotiable.”
“I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.” She raised her eyebrows and waited for him to take his weapon. When he finally lifted it out of her grasp with one hand, her smile widened. “We leave in two hours for New York City. I’ll get my bag out of the car. I look forward to meeting Sheila.”
She stepped past him and headed toward the front of his house.
The dwarf ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek and strode across the workshop to return the rifle to its place on the shelf. His cleaning box followed and he shook his head. Sheila stays the hell out of this.
Chapter Three
They caught the 3:45 pm flight out of Miami International to La Guardia, leaving Agent Nelson behind to ice his ass and use the good, long opportunity to reevaluate his choices.
As the first line of passengers moved through the cabin to board the plane, Lisa turned toward Johnny in the seat beside her and chuckled. “I have to admit, you pull considerable weight with the higher-ups.”
He snorted. “Your higher-ups. Not mine.”
“I didn’t think they’d upgrade the tickets.”
“I don’t fly coach.” Johnny kicked his legs out in front of him, clasped his hands behind his head in the roomy first-class seat, and closed his eyes. “They know that.”
“They didn’t know about the dogs though, did they?”
A slow smile lifted one corner of the dwarf’s mouth. “They should have done their homework.”
In the seat directly in front of him, Luther uttered a low whine. “I smell meat. They have meat in these flying metal boxes?”
Beside him, Rex opened his mouth wide for a long, squeaking canine yawn. He licked his muzzle and sniffed the headrest. “Bet there’s a bunch of good stuff under these seats. We could take a look.”
“Can we look, Johnny? I’m hungry.”
“Sit back and enjoy the flight, boys.” The dwarf shifted more comfortably against the back of his seat. “You’ll have all kinds of things to sniff in NYC.”
Lisa looked up from the newest Businessworld issue she’d opened on her lap and frowned at him. “Many people talk to their dogs like they can understand English too.”
Johnny grinned. I’m gonna let that one go.
“We’ll have a car waiting for us at La Guardia,” Lisa added. “I’ll get us to the hotel, and then we can start—”
“All right. Let me stop you right there.” He removed his hands from behind his head and thumped both arms onto the armrests as he turned to look at her.
“Is there something wrong with that very simple plan?”
“Yeah. Remember those ground rules I mentioned?”
She nodded curtly and raised an eyebrow.
“The first one is that I always drive.”
The woman raised an eyebrow at him before she turned away and tried to cover her smile. “That’s not gonna happen, Johnny.”
“It’s non-negotiable. You agreed.”
Lisa licked her lips and focused on the back of the seat in front of her—currently occupied by Rex the coonhound—and tilted her head. “Fine. You might as well lay out the others before we get to New York.”
“Sure. I like music as much as the next guy, but if we listen to anything, it’s heavy metal or nothin’. I don’t do any of that other squabbling, squawking bullshit. It’s simply not for me.”
“Heavy metal. Okay…”
“And don’t feed the dogs.”
She looked at him quickly and frowned. “Why would I feed your dogs?”
Johnny shrugged. “Exactly. Don’t even think about trying to work out why you shouldn’t. You don’t wanna know what happens.”
“Trust me, I’m not interested in going down that rabbit hole.”
“Good.” Folding his arms, he shimmied back against his seat again and closed his eyes.
“Is that it?”
“What?”
“Your only ground rules?”
“Those are the basics. Besides cleaning up after a mess and keeping things simple.” He opened one eye to fix her with a stern glance before he closed it again. “That includes flights.”
Lisa widened her eyes and returned to the magazine.
“Ooh, Johnny.” Luther panted and stretched his head out over the side of his seat into the aisle. “Johnny, they have treats. We get some treats, right?”
“Yeah, what did you get us?” Rex added.
A blonde flight attendant with her hair pinned up in a neat bun and her uniform flawlessly pressed and ironed stopped in front of the dwarf. Despite the fact that his eyes were closed, she gave him a winning smile anyway. “I have your drink, Mr. Walker.”
“Only
Johnny.” He opened his eyes and settled his gaze immediately on the glass of whiskey balanced on the tray in her hand. “Did that come from the right bottle?”
“Most certainly. Johnny Walker Black Label.”
“Good. Thanks.” He lifted the glass from the tray and took a long, slow sip.
The flight attendant’s smile all but vanished when she looked at Lisa. “Do you want anything?”
The agent gave her a thin smile and shook her head.
The woman glanced at Johnny again, studied him quickly with hooded eyes, and bit her lower lip before she walked toward the front of the plane.
“I didn’t know they still served that on flights these days.”
He smacked his lips and swirled the blended Scotch whiskey around in the glass. Ice clinked. “They do on the right flights when the right person asks for it, I guess.”
“Huh.”
“Johnny, get us some of that meat,” Luther said. “I know they have something up there.”
He ignored the hound, took another sip, and rested his head against the headrest with a sigh.
“Would you like a pillow, Mr. Walker?” This time, a brunette flight attendant with bright red lipstick examined him openly with airline extras in each hand. “A blanket? Anything to make you more…comfortable?”
“Only Johnny.” He flashed her a crooked smile and lifted his drink. “And I got everything I need right here, darlin’.”
“Okay. Well if you need anything, my name’s Darlene. Let me know.”
“Yep.”
The woman gave him a sideways glance with a coy smile and ignored Lisa altogether before she turned to check on the other first-class passengers.
The agent watched her and shook her head. “Are you sure that’s not the reason you wanted to fly first class?”
“Naw.” He sniffed and took another sip. “They do that in coach, too.”
“Not for everyone.” Closing her magazine, Lisa leaned toward him. “I need to get something out of my carry-on. Do you mind?”
“Why would I?”
She waited for him to get out of his seat or at least straighten and pull his feet back. When he didn’t, she rolled her eyes and stepped over his outstretched legs with one boot propped on the other.
“Here, let me help you with that.” A male flight attendant with curly brown hair stepped up behind her and flashed her a gleaming grin. “Do you need something from up here?”
“Yeah. Thanks.” Lisa stepped back and nodded at the overhead bin.
“No problem.” The man opened the compartment that held only her black roller carry-on and Johnny’s small army duffel bag with a skull and crossbones embroidered on the side. “This one, right?”
“That’s the one.” She smiled as he removed her bag and handed it to her. Thinking he’d move on or at least turn and head to the front of the plane, she unzipped the front pocket of her bag quickly and pulled her tablet out. She tucked it under her arm and started to lift her bag into the bin.
“Oh, no. I got it.” The flight attendant chuckled, took her luggage from her without waiting for a reply, and slung it into the compartment. “You shouldn’t have to lift a finger.”
“Uh-huh.”
He closed the overhead bin and left his hand there, blocking her from returning to her seat while he studied her openly. “If there is anything you need during the flight, ask for Tom, all right? I’m your man.”
“Oh.” Lisa responded with a soft laugh. “I think I’ll be fine. But thank you.”
“You bet.”
“Excuse me.”
He finally stepped back to let her pass and smirked as he watched her step over her travel companion’s outstretched legs to reach her seat.
The dwarf sipped his whiskey loudly and glared at the flight attendant over the rim of his glass. The man spared him a glance, looked up again to wink at Lisa, and wandered down the aisle toward coach. Johnny grumbled something under his breath.
“You don’t have to do that,” Lisa said.
“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.” He didn’t look at her.
“Well, let me share one of my ground rules, then.” She sat and turned her tablet on. “I can take care of myself when I want to.”
“And when you don’t want to?”
She shrugged and didn’t look up from the screen. “That’s what partners are for.”
He scoffed and closed his eyes. “First, it’s a team. Now, it’s partners. Someone needs to make up her mind.”
“While we’re on this case, Johnny, it’s both.”
Rex yawned again and his claws scraping across the vinyl upholstery. “This is boring.”
Luther hovered over the aisle-facing armrest and his head whipped one way, then the other as he watched one passenger after another board the plane. “I wanna play. Johnny, if we can’t eat, at least let us—ooh. Ooh. Hi!”
A low whine escaped the smaller coonhound as a woman in a maroon tracksuit passed with her chihuahua’s head poking out of her designer handbag. The tiny dog growled at Luther, and the coonhound whined again before he shrank into his seat.
“Jeez. That was rude.”
Rex snorted, curled into a ball on the seat, and plopped his head on the armrest. “She didn’t mean it. You know to not listen to chihuahuas, man. All bark and no bite.”
“That little one outside the trailer park bit me last week.”
With a chuckle, Johnny closed his eyes and set his drink on the armrest. They’ll be fine once we get where we’re goin’ and get to work.
Chapter Four
“The city that never sleeps, huh?” Johnny shook his head and stepped around a pile of boxes at the top of the stairs leading into the subway. “I’m not gonna sleep here either.”
“No one’s asking you to.” Beside him, Lisa turned her shoulders to slip between two men in business suits who powerwalked past her. “Should I be concerned that you’re thinking about sleep right now?”
“There’s nothing of concern about preferring peace and quiet over all this noise, especially since you mentioned a car, not this.” He walked as close to the wall of the subway entrance as he could as they descended the stairs. “But you can feel however you want.”
“I feel like we should check what’s in that guy’s pockets,” Luther said. His voice rose loud and clear in Johnny’s mind over all the noise that echoed even louder in the subway the farther they descended. “What is he wearing? A parachute?”
“Hey, thanks.” Rex sniffed the hamburger wrapper that dropped out of a man’s hands onto the step as the guy crammed his food into his mouth and jogged toward the street. “Aw, man, it’s empty. Seriously? Do I look like I eat trash?”
“You do eat trash. I eat trash. Good stuff in trash.”
As soon as the thin ropes connecting both hounds’ collars to their master’s hand grew taut, they both abandoned their sniffing and returned to Johnny’s side to follow him down the stairs.
He reached the bottom landing of the subway station and stopped beside Lisa as she glanced at the time for the next approaching train. He slugged the two large, empty duffel bags off his shoulder and kicked them open with the toe of his boot. When he looked at the empty tracks, he caught sight of three orange-brown creatures with rat-like faces that scurried into the darkness of the tunnel on his right. No one else seemed to notice or if they did, they ignored it in typical New Yorker fashion.
He leaned closer to Lisa and nodded toward the dark end of the tunnel. “Do they come into the subway often?”
She glanced around impassively. “Who?”
“The Willens.”
“Oh.” She shrugged. “I don’t know, to be honest. I don’t spend much time looking for Willens down here. Given a choice, I prefer to not spend time in the subway at all if I can help it.”
“It’s not your lucky day, then.”
She gave him a sidelong glance and shook her head. “I’ll be fine.”
A woman wearing three differen
t colored tutus in alternating patterns and giant, bright yellow sunglasses shaped like flamingos stepped past them along the subway platform and adjusted the straps of her sagging, neon-orange backpack over her shoulders. The beagle puppy with his head and one paw protruding from the backpack uttered a sharp yip that echoed through the subway.
Rex responded with one of his quieter barks. “I know, buddy. You’ll be okay.”
Luther took four steps after the tutu lady and sat with two inches of slack still in his rope. “She stole him?”
“What? No.” His brother sat and bent his head to scratch vigorously behind his ear with a rear paw. “She adopted him.”
“Same thing, isn’t it?”
Johnny looked at his hounds with a raised eyebrow. “That’s how you honestly feel?”
“Did you steal us?” Luther asked.
Rex stopped scratching his ear and ducked his head lower to nip at the inside of his hind leg instead. “Not in a backpack.”
Lisa eyed the hounds briefly. “Johnny, you heard what I said about dogs in the subway, right?”
He nudged one of the open duffel bags with his boot. “Why do you think I picked these up off that luggage stand?”
“And you’re sure they’ll be okay with it?”
“I don’t care if they’re okay with it. I didn’t bring ʼem with me to leave ʼem in a damn hotel room. These hounds once tracked a ʼgator through five miles of swamp. In the rain. If we get even a whiff of that girl or her kidnappers, Rex and Luther will track ʼem down.”
“Ah.” Lisa clasped her hands behind her back and looked at the countdown on the screen again. “And here I thought you merely had an overly developed sentimental side.”
Johnny chuckled. Only where it counts. And not in a long time.
He stepped away from the duffel bag and snapped his fingers. “All right, boys. Step in. Come on.”
Luther whipped his head up to stare at his master, his tongue lolling from his open mouth. “You stepped in what?”
Rex looked up from licking himself. “Was it the puke on the sidewalk four blocks east? Smelled okay to me.”
“The bags.” Johnny gave a gentle tug on each of the ropes attached to his hounds. “Let’s go.”
