Monster (3 page)

-Annie-

One of the problems with a bright, active, highly trained dog was that they expected you to actually take the time to exercise them properly.

Urso had brought me a tennis ball and was leaning against my leg, whining softly as I worked.

"Just a sec, buddy," I told him absently as I petted his ears with one hand.

I checked over my day's to-do list.

All set.

I'd even made progress on my work for the next day.

"Okay, Urso," I said, standing up. "Let's go to the park."

My dog bounded around the house, leading me to the front door with a spring in his step, narrowly avoiding knocking a vase off the coffee table.

As soon as I picked up the leash, though, he snapped into focus and his butt his the floor in a proper sit.

"Good dog, good dog," I crooned, putting on his leash and grabbing my purse.

The dog park was about half a mile walk away, which was one of the reasons I had chosen my apartment. I hadn't even gotten a dog, yet, but I had known that I wanted one.

I was in luck, one of Urso's buddies, Olly, was there.

I sent him off to play with Olly in the huge fenced-in area and walked over to lean against the fence next to a woman with salt-and-pepper hair. She was wearing an old sweatshirt and watching the two dogs play with the same critical eye I did.

"Olly's leg is healing up," she said.

I nodded.

"You can barely see the limp, only when he hits top speed," I said.

"Yep," she said.

We leaned in silence for another few minutes.

"How are you liking the new food?" I asked her.

"Eh," she said. "Too damn expensive, but his coat looks amazing. Asshole eats better than I do."

She said that last with a snort and a grumble, but I knew Carol didn't mean it. Olly was her world, the same way Urso was mine.

No kids.

No husbands.

We had met when our dogs were puppies, at an obedience class that turned out to be pretty useless. Olly and Urso had shown up knowing how to sit, stay, and lay down. We'd both hoped for socialization time, to get our pups used to other dogs and people, but it ended up being so chaotic that we'd stopped going after the second session. No point in letting the dogs learn bad habits.

Instead, we'd met up together, exercising our dogs and taking them all over the county.

"Did you pass?" she asked, giving me a small smile.

"Oh, you know. Yeah."

Her face split in a wide grin and she turned to give me a bear hug, slapping me on the back a few times and laughing out loud.

"Dammit, Annie, makin' me wait!" she said, grinning. "Oh, how's your new dog food," she said, gently mocking me. "Come on, I've been waiting for days. Why didn't you just text me like a normal person?"

"Hey, I thought you said you were a fossil who hated cell phones," I said.

"Yeah, yeah, but they're goddamn convenient."

I laughed.

"I'm so proud of you both. You passed. That's awesome. Who'd he track?" she asked.

"I never really met him," I said. "Some guy, a friend of the examiner's, who likes to hike. There were two, actually. They headed off together and then split up. Urso scented again and then went straight off after the right one."

"And he didn't air scent?" she pressed.

"Nope, nose to the ground. We've been working on it for almost two years, I should damn well hope he didn't air scent," I said.

"Hey, they like air scenting. It's easier. Don't be so hard on him, search-and-rescue work is a big deal to teach a dog right," she said.

I shrugged.

"It's a game, for both of us," I said.

"A game most people wash out of pretty early on. You've been out there with him every weekend for two friggin' years, up to your ass in mud and snow. That's a pretty intense game."

"It's fun," I confessed. "I keep hoping he'll get called up on a real track, and then I feel bad because you don't need a SAR dog unless someone's in trouble."

"Quit beating yourself up," she said, rolling her eyes. "It's only natural that you want to take him out on a real case. What certification did you end up getting?"

"Land, urban, cadaver," I said. "We're not on a coast or a lake, so I didn't bother with water. That's a whole different training style, and it's mostly recovering bodies. I'm not as interested in that."

"You got cadaver, though," she said. "Corpses are corpses, right?"

I winced.

"No, drownings give me the heebie-jeebies," I said. "I only got cadaver because I didn't have to do more than a few hours of extra training, with the scent work we've been doing."

"Makes sense," she said.

She kept her eyes on Olly and Urso, the only two dogs in the big pen.

I shuddered.

"I hope I never have to find a corpse," I said. "I mean, I'll do it if it needs to be done, and I knew what I was getting into when I started the scent training, but damn."

"You're not a wuss for not wanting to find a rotting body in the woods," she said, dryly. "You're human."

"Really?" I asked. "Damn, I was hoping I'd gotten rid of all those pesky feelings."

Damn, wasn't I.

All getting attached meant was that you'd left yourself open to heartbreak.

"Speaking of pesky feelings," she said. "You're not even thirty yet. Go find yourself a man one of these days."

"Come on, Carol," I said. "I don't have time."

"I didn't say you should get married and have eight children," she said. "I said you should find a man. Or a woman. Or someone. You really, really, really need to get laid."

A familiar stab of pain went through me, old and dull, at her words.

I should tell her.

Not today, though.

I mock-groaned, trying to keep things light.

"I'm serious," she said. "Go on a date, go get laid, have dinner with someone. Have some human contact."

"You're one to talk," I grumbled.

"I have lots of friends, two brothers and their wives and kids in the area, and coworkers," she reminded me. "You have me, and Heather, and Urso. Not the same thing."

"I don't think it's important right now," I said.

"It's always important," she said. "Besides, it's not healthy for Urso, you know. It's too much emotional pressure on him to be your main companion and also do the scent work. He needs a break from you sometimes. Time to be his own dog."

I scowled.

"You know I'm right," she said.

"I'll think about it, "I said.

"Damn straight," she said. "You've gotta think about everything I say, because I'm almost twice your age. Older and wiser."

"You're not even twenty years older," I said.

"Whatever," she said. “I coulda been a teen mom.”

She elbowed me in the side and I grinned.

We stood there, watching our dogs revel in the sheer joy of activity until a family brought their Labrador and we had to take our dogs away.

Olly, a border collie with a singular drive for play and activities, had to be coaxed out of the pen with a treat while Carol muttered under her breath about spoiled beasts not getting fed dinner that night to teach them a lesson.

I grinned as I walked away with Urso.

She loved that damn dog.

-Quinn-

I stood in front of my mirror, knotting my tie and brushing lint off of my shirt. At least I didn't have to worry about dog hair. That was the good part of not having Dragon around.

As if that helped.

I had to force myself to focus on my tie and my prep.

It was my fourth interview in three weeks.

No job.

I'd lived in the new apartment for a month, and the tiny mirror still bugged the shit out of me. I could barely see my own neck in it.

I tried on a professional smile.

It didn't work. I still looked like the same son of a bitch I always did.

I headed out, taking my time. Showed up twenty minutes early and checked my e-mail in the car so I didn't walk in the door too soon.

Sitting across the office from a guy in a suit, I had to restrain myself from scowling. I hated the bullshit. Always had.

"And what would you do if you apprehended someone trying to shoplift from a clothing store?" he asked.

"Whatever it said in the employee handbook," I said. Seeing a slight frown on his fat face, I continued. "I would assume that you would want me to confront and detain only the offenders who appear to have stolen over a certain amount, and contact the police."

"That's right," he said, looking pleased. "I thought you said that you'd never done mall security work before."

"I haven't," I said.

He waited, looking expectant.

"I was a police officer for a number of years."

"And you're looking to make a career move into security?" he asked, looking doubtful.

He had every reason to give me that look, even if he was a smug son of a bitch.

Most people's careers went the other way. Starting in security, steady job with a bit of practice detaining people, make the move into law enforcement for more pay and action.

"I suffered a leg injury," I said. "I'm not sure that I can keep up the pace my old position requires, but I don't know how to get out of the game entirely."

"I see," he said. "You do understand that this position requires a good deal of time on your feet?"

Fuck me.

Even my polite lie - I'd suffered a lot of leg injuries, but none bad enough to put me out of commission - wasn't the right goddamn lie.

On the way out, the suit introduced me to a few of his coworkers. Polite.

“Quinn Markham?” a young prick in a grey suit asked. “Are you the Quinn Markham who works on the local force?”

“Not any more,” I said, with a tight, forced smile.

Under my shirt and tie, I felt my muscles tense. This was the worst part of any job. Smiling and nodding at assholes who didn't know shit. Politics.

Point me in a direction, pay my health insurance, give me a little money to fold, and I get shit done.

As long as I'm not in a fucking office.

“Great, great,” he said, trailing off. His smile didn't meet his eyes. He glanced at my interviewer. “Can I talk to you in your office for a minute when you finish up here? Nice to meet you, Quinn.”

“Nice to meet you,” I ground out.

I made my excuses and got the hell out of there.

No second guesses about what the guys were going to talk about in their office. Quinn Markham, nothing official, not charged with anything, but he was investigated by Internal Affairs. Not the kind of man we want on our team.

Not the kind of man anyone wanted on their team.

I headed back to my apartment. Maybe, if I was very lucky, I'd catch a glimpse of my hot neighbor to cheer me up a little bit.