Breaking Creed

8

During the ten minutes that it took Creed to pull on clothes and make it to the main house, the vehicle at the end of the driveway had not moved. He knocked before he opened the back door that led into the kitchen. The scent of cinnamon, baked bread, bacon, and coffee stopped him in his tracks. It wasn’t until Hannah looked up and scowled at the shotgun in his hands that he remembered why he had been concerned.

“You going hunting?” she asked him as she wiped her hands and glided her large frame effortlessly from one task to another. “Otherwise, I don’t appreciate a gun in my kitchen.”

He glanced around before he remembered her boys were at Hannah’s grandparents’ farm for their annual two-week summer adventure. Finally he told her, “There’s a vehicle stopped at the end of the driveway.”

“Probably just someone waiting out the storm.”

“It pulled in after the rain stopped.”

“So you’re gonna go shoot ’em?” She said it with a straight face, all matter-of-fact, with not a hint of sarcasm or humor. Hannah always had a way of defusing his paranoia and making what he believed was a perfectly reasonable decision sound ridiculous.

“No, of course not. Maybe scare them a little.”

He set the shotgun aside and squatted down to pet Lady, a black-and-white border collie. She greeted him with a head-butt to his thigh, making him smile and realize that she redefined the term “lady,” but then so did Hannah, who had chosen the name for her.

Creed had found the dog along Highway 98. She’d been the victim of a hit-and-run. Her pelvis had been crushed. No tags and no one claimed her. Bright-eyed and scared, she still allowed him to pick her up. She wasn’t the first dog they had mended back together. Lady, however, had failed miserably as a scent dog. She was always more interested in rounding up everyone than searching out any of the surrounding smells. Her natural instinct did make her the perfect companion for Hannah’s two boys, as she watched over them and herded them away from danger.

And now Creed wondered if perhaps he was simply being overprotective. Had the incident on the boat spooked him into thinking a drug cartel would bother to come after him? Hannah was right. It was ridiculous. If they did send a hit squad, they wouldn’t be so obvious as to park at the end of his driveway.

When he looked up he noticed Hannah had stopped her morning routine and was staring at him, hands on her hips, those brown eyes inspecting and examining him. He’d never been able to hide anything from her.

“Something happen yesterday? You didn’t stop at the house last night.”

He stood and rubbed at his bristled jaw, but he felt it go tight despite his effort to stop it. “We found five kids.”

“I thought you were searching for drugs on a fishing boat.”

“We were. A seventy-foot long-liner with about eighty thousand pounds of mahi-mahi. Coast Guard had been tracking it. It had its hold full and was headed south to leave the Gulf.”

“Doing a pickup out in the middle of the water?”

“That was the suspicion, but there wasn’t any cocaine. Grace found five kids. Hidden under the floorboards.”

“Good Lord! Stowaways?”

“No.” He shook his head, and his eyes left the kitchen, looking out the window as the sun crested through the trees. “Not stowaways.” He realized how much he didn’t want to think about it anymore. Didn’t want to even talk about it. The incident on the boat was probably what had brought on his nightmare about Brodie.

“They’re trafficking kids now,” she said without waiting for an explanation.

She turned back to the stove, still shaking her head, but thankfully not expecting Creed to tell her more. At least not now.

“That’s a lot of food.” He needed to focus on something else and already found his mouth watering from the combination of aromas. Breakfast foods were always his favorite comfort foods.

“Andy’s taking everyone through basic drills this morning.”

“I’ll be out at the kennels if anyone needs me. Electricity is out.”

“Again? Seems like every time we have lightning, it’s knocking it out. You sure you don’t have one too many gadgets that’s tripping everything up?”

“The more self-reliant the dogs are, the less work around here.”

She rolled her eyes at him. It was an old argument, but the truth was, Creed wasn’t completely comfortable using so much automation for this exact reason. What happens when the power is out? He liked using the most advanced technology available, as long as he could have a backup system if anything malfunctioned.

“I’ve got everything running on auxiliary for now. I think I might be able to mess with it and get it back running.”

“I’ll check at Segway House and see if we have any electricians. Wouldn’t hurt to have a professional take a look. You know I don’t like you messin’ with hot wires. Believe me, you would not look good with curly hair.”

“Very funny.”

That’s when Creed saw the headlights coming up the driveway. “Looks like our stalker decided to be sociable after all.”

Hannah glanced out the window.

“Oh mercy, I forgot to tell you. I hired a new worker.” She started shutting off burners, putting on lids, and setting aside utensils. “Figures he’d be early.”

“So early that he had to sit and wait at the end of our driveway?” He slipped back into his anger.

“Now be nice, Rye. This guy’s had a tough time. He reminds me a little bit of you.”

Creed shook his head and smiled. He was the one who brought home discarded and damaged dogs, while Hannah did the same with people.

By the time the man parked and was getting out of his car, Creed was marching ahead of Hannah, the shotgun barrel down and relaxed in his right hand. He’d set this guy straight on appropriate etiquette. Being early for work was a good thing, but hanging out at the end of his driveway was bordering on creepy.

“Rye, just hold up there a minute or two.”

Hannah was trying to keep pace with him and she sounded a little too nervous about their introduction. She volunteered at a halfway house. That’s where she met runaways, recovering drug addicts, and abused wives. But Creed trusted her judgment when she brought one of them home. He was beginning to think she wasn’t too sure about this guy.

At first glance the man looked young. Creed guessed he wasn’t even twenty. Hannah had said the guy reminded her of him, but Creed didn’t see any resemblance. The man was four or five inches shorter than Creed. He was clean-shaven and wore his hair close-cropped. He wasn’t smiling when he met Creed’s eyes. There was something there — something hard and dark. Distrust, maybe a little anger. He didn’t flinch when he noticed the shotgun.

He came around the side of his vehicle and that’s when Creed saw that the right sleeve of his denim shirt hung loose from the elbow down. He watched with those intense eyes as Creed noticed, almost as if he was daring Creed to dismiss him or say something inappropriate.

“Jason, this is my partner, Ryder Creed,” Hannah said, coming around to stand in between the two of them as if she might have to referee. “Jason’s been home from Afghanistan for a few months. Looking for work. You know how hard it is to find a job these days.”

“Unless you think there’s a problem with me working here,” Jason said.

And there it was. Creed could hear the challenge in the young man’s voice, even as he lifted his chin. Lady had followed them out of the house. She joined Crockett, a retired rottweiler who could still be intimidating if he wanted to be. The pair began sniffing Jason’s boots.

“Hiring is up to Hannah,” Creed said, and pretended not to notice as the young man slowly opened his left hand for the dogs to sniff while still trying to maintain his rigid tough-guy stance. In that small gesture he could see that Jason was comfortable with them. He didn’t flinch, didn’t step back. Instead, he had silently opened up for them to check him out.

“I trust her judgment,” Creed added. “Besides, the dogs don’t care whether you have one hand or three. Just don’t park and sit at the end of my driveway, okay?” He nodded at Hannah and turned to leave.

“Park? What are you talking about?” Jason asked.

Creed looked back at the man and met his eyes. There wasn’t a hint of embarrassment, guilt, or anything that looked like a lie. Only confusion. Creed glanced at Hannah, and for the first time that morning, he saw a flicker of concern.