big puppy. He ended up with his head in her on top of their joined hands, his big -brown eyes watching her face carefully. She was suddenly very aware of Train’s hand on the tops of her thighs.
“Okay, now you,” Train ordered, letting go of her hand.
“Pet him; tell him he’s a good boy. Love it up a little. We’re telling him that he’s to be as loyal to you as he is to me.
We’ll do it a couple more times while I teach you some basic commands and his rules of engagement.”
She swallowed and complied, amazed at the transformation in the dog’s demeanor. Every Doberman she had ever seen looked underfed and keenly interested in rectifying that problem. This one was acting as if he wanted some warm Milk.
“Rules of engagement. That sounds like weapons talk,” she said.
“This is a weapon; it’s just in standby at the moment.
Gutter’s going to live in your house for a while. You ‘ re going to show him around inside; then later, when I get back, I’m going to show him around outside to define the perimeter. It’s actually an exercise in scent, and touching.
Dobes are really into touching. They’re extremely intelligent, and the good news is that they readily accept human females as dominant. When we’re all done, you’re going to be safe from creeps who come around here uninvited.”
“What would he do to an intruder?” she asked, continuing to pet the dog.
His shiny black hide felt like-she always imagined a seal would feel.
“If he was outside, he would bark and run the guy off, staying just behind him but out of the range of hand weapons until the bad guy leaves the defined perimeter. Inside, he wouldn’t make a sound until the creep was well past any escape routes. Dobes like to do that, too. Let people in but not out. After which, he would nail the guy to the floor by his throat until someone told him to let go or to eat him.
Pat him one more time and then get up. I’m going to demonstrate the bark.”
She smoothed her hands over the dog’s head one last time and got up.
Train also got up and gave a command. The dog sprang up into a standing position. Train gave another command and the dog broke out into a burst of the loudest barking Karen had ever heard. She clapped her hands over her ears in fright, and Harry left a visible piddle trail as he decamped across the front walk, heading toward the barn.
After five seconds, Train gave another command and the dog stopped.
“That’s bark. Here’s growl.”
Another command, and the front yard was filled with a menacing rumbling growl as the Dobe leaned forward on his haunches, looking at nothing in particular. The growl was punctuated with an occasional lip-lifting grimace that revealed what looked like at least a yard of glistening canine ivory. Another command and the dog was silent again.
“I’m not sure I can handle all this-” she said, looking at the dog’ who was still watching Train expectantly, waiting for the next command. The phone began to ring in the house.
“You’ll do fine. I’ve written all this down. Mostly, he’s just going to be here. You better get that.”
She slipped into the living room, followed by Gutter, who pushed his nose between the screen door I as she went through. Her neighbor Ken Parsons, of the perpetual lawn mower, was on the phone. She reassured him that everything was fine.
She smiled as she hung up. “I think I might be able to get used to Gutter,” she said, reaching down to pet the dog.
Gutter looked up at her approvingly. Train then told her to take the dog on a tour of the inside of the house, room by room. “Let him in your closet, and let him get a good scent of shoes. The laundry hamper, too.
I want him to know your scent, okay?”
She was almost blushing when they finished taking the dog around on his grand tour. They were back in the kitchen in ten minutes. Karen sat down in a kitchen chair,. and the dog parked himself between her feet.
“Okay,” Train said. “Remember that he wants to be next to you, as you can see, or at least in the same room with you. Or anywhere you go. Make eye contact often, and show affection. He’s worth it.”
“Did you raise him?”
“Yes. My family’s had Dobes for years. My father used to breed and show them. Gutter is four, and I’ve done most of his training. He even likes the water, which is unusual.
You should see him go fishing in the river.”
“The river is not quite a half mile that way,” she said. “maybe I’ll take him fishing.”
“He’d love it.” Train paused. “I need you to tell me about last night again. And then I have to get down to Fort Fumble.”
“Why9 What’s happened?” she asked as she fixed two cups of coffee.
“Checked my voice mail on the -way over here. Ms Legalness the JAG commands my unworthy civilian posterior into his presence first thing this morning. What’s the commute from here at this hour9”
“Forty-five minutes if you get out by six-forty. I’ll send you the back way.”
“Bad night, yes?” he asked.
She nodded, still feeling a slight tremble in her hands.
“Yes, bad night. Not much sleep.” She told him again what had happened.
The Dobe sat attentively on the kitchen floor between them. She rubbed the back of the dog’s neck absently.
“One question,” he said when she was done. “The voice-is there any chance it could have been Sherman?”
She looked at him and then closed her eyes, trying to remember the voice. “it was mechanical,” she replied. “There was an odd volume to it, as if there was some kind of obstruction. And what sounded like a precursor breath before he spoke.” She shivered. “It was really spooky.
But, no, I don’t think it was-Sherman. On the other hand-“
“On the other hand, it was artificial, wasn’t it?”
She nodded. “It could have been anyone, then,” she said.
“You’re still suspicious of him, aren’t you?”
He twisted his coffee cup around in his hands. “I still go back and forth. Listening to the cops last night, I found myself agreeing with their a-ain of thought. These Fairfax guys are pretty professional, and the pros tend to go with the Occam’s razor approach: The simplest solution is usually the solution. Then I would look at Sherman, see the distress in his face, and my heart would say, No way. This guy isn’t a killer.”
“So why are you still suspicious?”
“Well, you never saw anyone, except for the silhouette of those shoes through the crack under the garage door. He could have left the meeting, doubled back, parked the car out on Beach Mill Road somewhere, and walked back into the Property to terrorize you. Emphasis on the could have.”
“And then accused himself of two murders?”
“Arrgh,” Train said. “I hate it when you start getting logical.”
“So, shouldn’t we call Mcnair?” she asked.
“Let’s see what the JAG wants first. I want to go after Galantz, especially after this crap. But we need to be sure of our tasking. And I want to know why you were locked out of that file. II She shifted in her chair, looked at her coffee, then thought better of it. “But why wait to tell Mcnair?” she asked.
“Because the cops will immediately think Sherman. First thing they’ll do is pun him in and question him as to where he went last night after the meeting here. And my guess is he went home, maybe via a fast-food restaurant’somewhere along the way. Which means he would have no alibi.”
She nodded. “He doesn’t need that.,, “Tell me, can archived JAG investigation files be altered?”
“NO. The investigations are official records. The system’s m up specifically to prohibit alterations.”
Train thought about that. “Well, if that’s true, there’s something in that investigation file someone doesn’t want you to see. to see. I’m ( going to ask the good admiral about that. Then I hope to get through to my FBI contact. See what he can tell me about Galantz. The more meat we can put on the SEAL story, the less the cops will bother Sherman.”
She nodded, suddenly too tired to argue. This great big dog did seem very comforting. Train was getting
