Malabarista

WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 15
chapter 1

“This is the only way the two of you can stay in touch. Glenn passes Cam’s message to me, and I pass it on to you. Since Cam’s the one heading up the investigation into the charges against you, he has to keep his distance until it’s done.” Matt pulled on the leash, as Roz, their Australian cattle dog, dragged him along on their walk.

Lane had to move quickly to keep up to Matt, who appeared to be about to fall after each awkward step. They turned off the sidewalk and down a trail just wide enough for them to travel single file. Matt bent to let Roz off the leash. She lunged ahead.

The air was cooler in the shadow of the trees. Lane grabbed a mosquito out of the air and crushed it in his fist.

“Do you miss Harper?” Matt stopped in a clearing to sit on a toppled tree trunk. He rubbed his beard: a first attempt. It was black, the same shade as what was left of the hair on his Uncle Arthur’s head.

Lane sat down next to him. “Yes.”

“Glenn said that his uncle is pissed about Chief Smoke demanding an investigation of the lost Glock, but can’t do anything about it. Yet. Glenn told me to make sure I remembered to say ‘yet’ with lots of irony. And he wanted you to know that Smoke is trying to do a number on both of you after your last case embarrassed him. Smoke wants Harper to look like he’s turning on his old partner.” Matt turned to study his uncle’s reaction.

McTavish warned me to watch my back, Lane thought.

“He also said that Harper will do the investigation by the book,” Matt said.

Of course, Lane thought as he looked down the trail. Roz came galloping back to see what was holding them up. You can trust Cam Harper. You trusted him with your life. Being investigated could turn out to be a stroke of luck, if you can survive all of the crap in between. “Leaving the Glock behind was a show of faith.”

“What do you mean?” Matt asked.

“We all put our guns down as a show of faith. We were all putting our weapons into a pile to be destroyed. It was the only way to put an end to the killings.” Lane watched as Roz backed up with her tail tucked under her belly. She sat between them and looked back the way she’d come.

“Do you think Uncle Arthur’s biopsy will be okay?” Matt asked.

Lane looked at his nephew and saw the worry in the lines across his forehead. Lane tried to smile but found he couldn’t. How do I explain this nagging sense of foreboding?

They heard the bark of another dog as it crashed into the clearing. The black fur at the back of its neck stood up like it was gelled. The dog was at least twice the size of Roz. Its head was low with its muzzle brushing the ground as it glared at her.

“Back off!” Matt said.

“She’s friendly.” A man entered the clearing. He was dressed for golf. His grey hair was cut close and his face was clean-shaven. The dog’s leash was looped around his neck. “Isn’t that right, Chief?”

Chief moved closer to Roz and growled. Lane grabbed Roz’s collar. “Put Chief on his leash.”

“Chief’s friendly.” The dog’s owner sounded offended.

Chief moved closer. He growled and bared his teeth. Roz backed up. Chief lunged, snarling and snapping at Roz’s throat and Lane and Matt’s knees. Roz dodged left, tearing away from Lane. The dogs stood growling and spitting as they raised themselves onto their hind legs. Roz lunged. One of the dogs whimpered. Chief was on his back. Roz stood on his chest and bared her teeth.

“Call your dog off!” the man said.

Matt moved forward, grabbed Roz’s collar, and pulled her back to the log. The man hooked the leash into Chief’s collar. “You gotta watch your dog. He’s dangerous.”

“She,” Lane said.

“What?” The man backed down the path.

“Our dog is a she.”

“Better learn to control her better.” The man walked back the way he’d come.

Matt looked at his uncle. “But Chief came after Roz.”

Lane rubbed Roz behind the ears. “It’s funny how the aggressor acts after getting the worst of the fight.”