paws on her shoulders, and licked her face and neck.
“You weren’t joking,” Lynch said. “Sour liver.”
Kendra raised her head to avoid the large tongue lapping at her nose. “Olivia thinks his breath smells more like rancid poultry. But I told her that was unkind.”
Olivia nodded. “We’re going to take care of it. I’m exploring the possibility of healthy dog mints.”
Kendra sputtered as Harley’s tongue caught her lips. “By all means.”
Lynch mouthed three rapid clicking sounds and made a quick lowering motion with the flat of his right hand.
Harley immediately pushed back from Kendra and sat on the floor.
Kendra stared at Lynch in surprise.
He made the clicking sounds again, extended three fingers, and lowered them.
No response.
He clicked again and made a downward sweeping motion with the same hand.
Harley immediately dropped to the floor with his head propped on his front two paws.
Kendra looked between Harley and Lynch. “How in the hell did you do that?”
“Your roommate and I came to an understanding.”
“Huh…Lynch, meet Harley.”
“Nice name.”
“Jessie liked it, too. She said that when he barks, he sometimes sounds like her motorcycle revving up. But you didn’t answer my question.” She turned to Olivia. “He used some kind of hand signals to get him to obey. How did you do that, Lynch?”
Lynch knelt and stroked the back of Harley’s neck. “I spent some time in Syria last year, and I had a friend there who went everywhere with an exceptionally well-trained bomb-sniffing German shepherd. He often found himself in situations where it was inconvenient, maybe even dangerous, to use verbal commands. So he used hand signals. I decided to give it a shot.”
Kendra shook her head. “I wasn’t aware there was an international sign language for dogs.”
“There isn’t.” Lynch stood. “Though there are some standard signs that are used frequently by trainers. But often owners develop their own signals, and they can be very diverse. That’s why I just had to try a couple before I found one that worked for ‘lie down.’ But most dogs like discipline and structure. That’s why he responded so well to it.”
Kendra looked at Harley. He certainly seemed happier and more relaxed than she’d ever seen him.
“I need you to teach me those hand signals,” Olivia said. “If I had known that’s all we needed to do, these last couple of days would have been much more bearable.”
Kendra bit her lip. “Strange.”
“What do you mean?” Lynch said.
“This dog was living with one of the victims in the murder case. Elaine Wessler. She fostered a lot of guide-dogs-in-training over the years, but I’ve never known her to train them to respond to hand signals.”
“Do you think he picked it up from somewhere else?” Lynch said. “A previous owner?”
“Maybe. All I heard about was a little boy who owned him before he was killed. I don’t know anyone else.”
Lynch clicked his tongue and tried a few hand motions until he found one that elicited a response from Harley. The dog jumped to his feet and wagged his tail. He looked very happy.
“I guess that’s ‘at ease,’” Kendra said.
“Looks like it.” Lynch patted Harley’s head. “We should spend some time and see what he’s capable of. The signals he knows may give us a clue about where he was trained before your victim took him in.”
Kendra turned to Olivia. “He’s all yours. We’ve got to get going to the FBI office. I just wanted to introduce him to Lynch.” She suddenly realized someone was missing. “Where’s Jessie?”
“She took off early this morning to L.A. to retrieve her motorcycle. You know she can’t live without it for more than a couple of days.” But her mind was still on Lynch and Harley and she said, “When you come back tonight, I want Lynch to teach me those signals the minute he walks in the door.”
“You got it.”
Lynch clicked his tongue and patted his thigh.
Harley bounded over to him, tail wagging and tongue practically flopping out of his mouth.
Kendra shook her head. Dammit. Everyone did like Lynch.
Even that crazy dog.
* * *
Kendra’s phone rang as they were walking toward her Toyota, parked at the curb. She picked up the call.
“Kendra, it’s Griffin. I have Metcalf here on speaker.”
Kendra hit a button on her phone screen. “Fine. I’m on speaker, too. Lynch is here with me. It’s a party.”
“I don’t think you’ll feel like celebrating,” Metcalf said.
“Okay, so it’s not that kind of party. What’s up?”
“We got a CODIS hit on some blood left behind by one of the thugs who killed Kit