Greyson (The K9 Files) - Dale Mayer Page 0,14

reason not to.”

“I was afraid it was George,” she said.

“And?”

“You know he’s got cop friends everywhere,” Jessica said. “I figured it would get back to him, and nobody would believe me.”

There was silence on her sister’s end of the phone. “I guess that’s possible,” Lisa said, in grudging acknowledgment. “But it’s pretty shitty to have to worry about that at this point.”

“I know,” she said, “but what are my choices?”

“If anything else happens,” Lisa said, “you have to go to the police—no matter what.”

“I will,” she said. “Unfortunately I think he’s making prank phone calls to me all the time too.”

Her sister gasped in horror. “That louse. When will it get bad enough for you to do something?” she shouted.

“Well, that’s why I was talking to Mom,” she said.

“And that’s the worst thing you could have done,” Lisa said. “All I’ve heard all morning is how, if you’d stayed married, you wouldn’t be in this position.”

“How very convenient for her,” she said in a dry tone.

“Exactly,” Lisa said.

“You know what George was like. He threatened me a lot.”

“And yet you never told us,” her sister complained, her voice softer now. “You know we would have helped you.”

“It’s just as well that we separated and filed for divorce,” Jessica said firmly. “He didn’t want his son, so that was an easy answer.”

“Says you,” she said. “But what about what the attorney said? That George wants his son now?”

“It doesn’t matter what he said,” she said fiercely. Then she lowered her voice, so Danny wouldn’t hear. “No way in hell is George touching my son.”

By the time Greyson was done tracking the entire area, the best he could figure was the dog had kept going through the woods, not out in the open space on the sidewalk. Greyson had walked four miles without seeing any new signs of dog hair or any new paw prints. He did see several people walking dogs, and he’d stopped to talk to them, showing them a picture of the dog in question.

“Hello. This is Kona. I’m looking for her,” he said with an easy smile. The older couple walking the small Yorkie had stopped to look at the picture, then frowned and shook their heads. “We haven’t seen that dog at all,” the older man said. “Who do we call if we do though?”

Greyson quickly pulled out a Titanium Corp business card, jotted down his cell number on the back, handing it to him. “If you see the dog, please let me know.”

“Is it dangerous?” the woman asked anxiously.

“It’s a very well-trained War Dog,” he explained. “I wouldn’t approach her if she shows any sign of not being happy. Just call me right away. I’ll come right over and pick her up.”

“Tsk, tsk. It’s not the happy ending we’d like to see for any animal that’s been in service,” the older man said.

They walked away, leaving Greyson standing here with his hands on his hips, wondering who else to talk to. Then he remembered the detective. He pulled out his phone with the photo of the card and the detective’s phone number, then quickly dialed. Once he introduced himself, the detective said, “I figured you guys would have been here a few weeks ago.”

“Paperwork,” he said. “And somehow this animal fell through the gaps.”

“Got to call you back,” the detective said in an urgent tone.

Greyson walked several more blocks, checking out the undergrowth, but just enough time had gone by that Greyson could be tracking any kind of animal at this point. The hair he had seen definitely matched the Malinois he was tracking, but he wasn’t finding anything now. He turned and headed back on the long walk toward the shelter. He passed several other people and stopped to ask them if they’d seen the dog.

When the detective returned his call, Greyson asked for an appointment to see the detective, as Greyson headed back to his grandpa’s truck.

“I can meet you now if you want.”

“That’s great. I’m about fifteen minutes out,” Greyson said. “I’ll be there soon.”

In truth, he was more than fifteen minutes out because he wasn’t back at the vehicle yet. But he picked up the speed of his walk and made it back to his truck in ten. With his GPS set, he quickly pulled out of the rescue center’s parking lot and headed to the police station. He was five minutes late and figured that was still pretty close to being on time.

When he walked in, a detective stood at the