feel like I'm stealing a puppy away from a little kid.'
Byron sat there for a while, lost in thought. Charlie desperately wished that he'd written a script for this kind of thing. He should've guessed that somebody would come for Kutter eventually, and he should've written a foolproof speech to convince the owner to let Charlie keep him.
'Can I at least visit him?' Charlie asked, his upper lip trembling a bit.
'Show me the toys,' said Byron.
'What?'
'The toys you bought him. Show them to me.'
Charlie walked over to the television stand and picked up the small wicker basket that was on the floor next to it. 'He keeps scattering them all around the house,' Charlie said, 'but I put them here when I clean the place up.'
He brought the basket over to Byron. 'It's only six. He wrecked two of them. The stuffed ones.'
Bryon peered into the basket and nodded his approval. 'Nice selection. He likes squeaky things.' Byron poked at a rubber dolphin. Kutter's ears perked up at the squeak.
'I'd buy him more,' Charlie insisted.
'Well, it's never good to spoil them.'
'I'd spoil him anyway.'
Byron sighed. 'All right, Charlie, here's what we're going to do. Have you seen those movies or TV shows where the kids are fighting over the rightful owner of a dog, and so they do a contest where they both call the dog and see who he comes to first?'
'No.'
'Doesn't matter. We'll set Duke in the middle of the room, we'll each take a corner, and we'll both call him. You're clearly deeply attached to the little guy, and if he's just as attached to you, I'll step down as his owner. Sound fair?'
'Yes. Very fair.' Charlie was elated. Even if he liked his old home, Kutter wouldn't want Charlie to be left alone, would he?
'Go grab a couple of dog treats,' said Byron.
Charlie retrieved two pseudo-bacon strips from the canister on top of the refrigerator and brought them back into the living room.
'Duke loves food a lot more than he loves either of us, that's for sure, so we'll put the treats in the center of the room while we each take a corner.'
'Who picks the corner?'
'You have the home field advantage, so I'll pick. I'll stand in the corner by the TV.'
Charlie walked over to the opposite corner and crouched down. If Kutter didn't pick him, Charlie was going to start sobbing right in front of this stranger. Maybe that would be a good thing. Maybe he'd look so pathetic that Byron would give him Kutter anyway.
No. You didn't give great dogs away to pathetic sobbing people. He just had to frantically hope that Kutter would make the right choice.
Byron dropped the bacon strips onto the center of the floor and then gently set Kutter down next to them. He quickly walked to his own corner, and then crouched down as well. 'C'mere, Duke!'
'C'mere, Kutter! Here, Kutter!'
'Duke! Come to your Daddy!'
'Kutter! Come to your friend!'
The Boston terrier gobbled up the first bacon strip and immediately started on the second.
'Here, Duke! Here, Duke, Duke, Duke!'
'Here, Kutter! Here, Kutter, Kutter, Kutter!'
Byron clapped his hands. Charlie did the same.
The dog finished up the second bacon strip, sneezed, let out a soft bark, and then ran into Charlie's arms.
'Thank you!' Charlie said as he vigorously petted the dog with both hands. 'Thank you, Kutter! You're such a good doggie! Yes, you're such a good doggie!'
Byron stood up. Charlie felt a pang of sympathy for the guy as he dabbed at the corner of his eye with his index finger. 'The dog has spoken,' he said with a sad smile.
'I'll take good care of him,' Charlie promised.
'You'd better. I reserve the right to make surprise inspections. If I don't like what I see, I'll grind your ass up and feed you to him.'
'That's fair.'
Byron walked over and stuck out his hand. Charlie shook it.
'Congratulations on owning your first pet. Kutter, huh?'
'Yes.'
'I actually like that better than Duke.'
'Me too.'
Byron picked up Kutter and spoke softly to the dog while it licked his face. Charlie felt as if he should leave the room and give them some privacy, but he also didn't want to give Byron a chance to sprint for the exit, so he stayed where he was.
After a couple of minutes, Byron handed Kutter to Charlie. 'I guess I'll head off. You were on your way out, right?'
'No. I made that up.'
'That's what I figured.' He gave the dog one last scratch behind the ears. 'Seeya, Kutter.'
Charlie let Byron out of the house. He watched through the window as he got into his car and started the engine, not willing to believe that Kutter was truly his until Byron backed out of the driveway and drove out of sight.
Steak. He and Kutter needed a steak to celebrate.
Then he remembered that he still had the girl in his basement.
- 9 -
'What am I supposed to do with you?' Charlie asked the girl. He'd already taken off her gag and informed her that if she screamed, he'd cut her throat. It wasn't a threat he'd ever made good on--though he had cut vocal cords more than once--but he was feeling more paranoid than usual and didn't entirely trust the soundproofing in the basement.
'You could let me go,' said the girl, her voice raw and scratchy. 'I won't tell anyone.'
'Yes, you will.
She violently shook her head. 'No, no, I swear to God I won't tell anybody. I've got a warrant out for my arrest--I can't talk to the cops even if I wanted to.'
'What did you do?'
'I killed my ex-boyfriend. I shot him.'
'No, you didn't.' Charlie's spirits fell. He'd been momentarily excited, because the idea of her not going to the cops because of an outstanding arrest warrant made a lot of sense, but if she'd committed murder she wouldn't be going door-to-door selling magazine subscriptions.
'I did. I swear I did.'
'I can look it up and find out if you're lying,' Charlie told her, although he wasn't certain that he could. 'If you are, I'll use my knives on your arms until they're just skeleton arms. That takes a long time. Are you willing to stick to your story?'
The girl began to cry.
'Answer me.'
