Run to Ground(79)

By the time Otto had finished patting down Gordon, there were nine handguns and eleven fully loaded magazines decorating Otto’s hood.

“Watch your head,” Otto rumbled as he assisted Gordon into the backseat of his squad car. Gordon, who’d gone pretty much silent by the time Otto had removed the eighth gun from his possession, responded with an anatomically impossible suggestion.

Ignoring Gordon, Otto closed the door and moved around to the front of the car, where Theo was eyeing the results of the search.

“Once we search his truck,” Theo said, eyeing the weapon collection, “we could open a gun store.”

Otto gave an amused grunt. “The man likes his weapons.”

“Why’d you stop him?” Even as Theo asked, his gaze was moving, peering past the immediate area lit by streetlights and the headlights on their squad cars into the blackness beyond. They were in the closest thing Monroe had to a warehouse district. A boxy building that housed a gymnastics school butted up next to the expansive lot of a landscaping company, and the piles of gravel and decorative rocks cast strange shadows stretching to the ten-foot chain-link fence.

Although this was better than being in a residential neighborhood, where the flashing lights would’ve woken the residents and brought gawkers by the truckload, there was something about the shadowed darkness of the hulking buildings that was making the back of his neck prickle with warning.

“It started as a suspicious vehicle call,” Otto explained. A quick glance told Theo that Otto was scanning the area, as well. Apparently, Theo wasn’t the only uneasy one. “Someone driving by saw Gordon’s truck. It was running, but the headlights were off. When I got here, there was someone standing on the left side of his truck, talking to Gordon, but they ran off as soon as I pulled up. I approached Gordon, saw he had a pistol in a hip holster in clear view of God and everyone, so I arrested him for brandishing.” Otto rubbed his forehead above his right eyebrow. “No licenses on any of those guns, and he doesn’t have a CCW. Said he doesn’t believe in asking the government if he can carry, and he doesn’t see any reason to conceal his weapons. There might be a few extra charges to add to the brandishing.”

Eyeing the extensive collection decorating Otto’s hood, Theo asked dryly, “You think?”

“Not looking forward to searching that truck.”

Theo glanced at the pickup. From what he’d seen during his very brief inspection after he’d first arrived, the topper-covered bed was filled with junk. The cab had looked only slightly better. “Yeah.”

“Think Viggy would be up for a quick check?” Otto eyed Theo hopefully.

“Nope.” Although Theo hated to turn Otto down, he was pretty sure Viggy wasn’t ready. All a failed attempt at searching the pickup would do was destroy the dog’s already shaky confidence. Theo never should’ve tried to get Viggy to search Gordon Schwartz’s compound. It’d just set the dog up for failure, and Theo felt a surge of guilt at the memory. He hadn’t protected his K9 partner. “He’s not ready.”

Otto accepted it easily, right before a thump from behind them brought both of their heads around. Gordon had gotten turned around on the seat and was kicking at the window. Both Otto and Theo groaned.

“Mind if I run him to jail?” Otto asked, already headed for the driver’s seat as he looked over his shoulder at Theo. “I don’t want to have to wrestle him into the leg restraints.”

Theo waved him on. “Go ahead. I’ll keep an eye on the truck until you get back, and then I’ll help you search.” He didn’t say it out loud, but the creeping feeling of being watched hadn’t eased. Theo wasn’t about to turn his attention away from his surroundings to focus on a search, not without someone to watch his back.

“Thanks.” Otto climbed in the squad car and drove quickly down the street, leaving Theo in the dimly lit night with a terrified dog, looming buildings, and a jumpy sense that he wasn’t really alone.

Shaking himself out of his hyperalert state, he returned to his squad car. Grabbing Viggy’s leash, he hooked it to the top hook in the harness. Viggy backed up, ready to brace against the forward pressure, his forehead wrinkled with tension.

“C’mon, Vig.” Theo forced cheer into his voice. It felt easier, more natural this time than it had in a long time. Viggy even cocked his head to the side, and his nervous panting stopped. “Want to play?”

At the word “play,” Viggy’s posture eased a little, coming out of his crouch a little. Encouraged, Theo remembered the stuffed toy he’d tucked into the glove compartment one day when he hadn’t been able to stand the sight of it. He pulled out the bedraggled plush penguin.