“Oh. Bear. Like a dancing Bear. I get it now.”
I threw it out into the desert, each time farther and farther away. We played until I collapsed into the sand. My wrist ached underneath the cast, but it felt distant now, muted by exhaustion. Bear protested my idleness with a few playful growls, then dropped down beside me, nestling into the crook of my arm, his front paws on my chest. He held his head erect, scanning the desert, his ears on alert, panting happily. I raised one rubbery arm and took his silver tag in my fingers.
I saw him then as the family dog he must have been once. Curled up on a couch and sleeping with his family. Eating from a bowl with his name on it. Nothing at all like the monsters kept by Quarles, whose eagerness for anything other than blood and violence had been starved out of them ages ago. I ran my fingertip over the scratched-out phone numbers on the tag and wondered if Bear still thought of his old owners and his old life. Was he trying to get back to them, or had he given up too?
Bear dug his snout beneath my hand, urging me to pet him. I cupped my palm against his cheek and drew it back over his ears. His fur was smooth and warm.
We dozed a moment and when I opened my eyes again, the sun had dipped into the west. What time was it that Quarles had sent me away? Nine thirty? Ten? I realized with a shock that it had to have been hours ago.
I jumped up and started back toward the lot. Bear trotted along behind me and when I stopped to pick up the dogcatcher, he planted himself in front of me, eyes bright and expectant. I dropped the dogcatcher and took his head in my hands.
“You can’t come with me,” I said, a dull ache growing in my chest. “It’s not a good place.”
Bear shook himself away, dancing backward like we were playing again. When I didn’t follow, he stood there, staring back at me.
“You’re going to have to find your way back home, okay? It can’t be far.”
I wished he could understand me, but I knew it was pointless. Nothing could change what had to happen next. I had to go present myself to Rhames, and Bear had to go his own way. There was no sense in putting it off. I moved toward the road but Bear raced by, beating me to the parking lot. When I caught up to him, he was staring out toward Cormorant and barking wildly.
A dust cloud rose in the desert across the road. I squinted into the sunny glare and saw that it was centered around a black Ford pickup that was racing in our direction. It was one I’d know anywhere, one that only a single person would be driving.
I didn’t even think. I grabbed Bear’s collar and ran.
6
Quarles threw open the door of his truck and stepped out.
“Where’ve you been?”
“I was looking for the dog,” I said. “I thought he was somewhere behind the store and—”
“I tell you to do a thing, you do it and come back. You don’t make me wait. You don’t take your time.”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I thought I could find him, but I guess he—”
Quarles’s open hand slammed into my jaw, nearly knocking me down.
“Don’t lie to me. Supply truck radioed about some kid playing with a mutt.” Quarles reached for the dogcatcher he kept in a metal sleeve on the side of the truck. “Useless. Like always, if I want something done, it’s on me.”
“Look,” I said, jogging to keep up with him. “I found him. Okay? But he was too fast. I almost had him, but then he ran off and I couldn’t get him. He’s just one dog. Little too. We should get back for afternoon prayers.”
Quarles ignored me and checked each storefront. I hoped he would get frustrated by the time he reached the supermarket, but when he got there, he went in the front door. I followed him, barely breathing, as he moved up and down the aisles. When his back was to me, I looked into the corner where a short hall led down to two bathroom doors. Both were closed.
Quarles finished going through the rows and headed toward the register.
“I told you, he’s not—”
A high-pitched whine came from the back hall. Quarles froze, his hand tense on the shaft of the dogcatcher.
By the time Quarles reached the hallway, Bear’s claws were scraping against the thin wooden door. His free hand fell to the bludgeon on his belt.
“He’s not worth it.”
He turned and stabbed the tip of the lead club into my chest.
“I’m rid of you soon,” he said in a deadly rumble. “So what you do isn’t my concern anymore. But you’re going to help me take this one. Make my life harder and I’ll tell Monroe what you’ve done.”
A sick feeling was growing in my gut, but I somehow managed to nod. Quarles forced the bludgeon into my hands.
“If he gives me a problem, put him down.”
Quarles moved to the door. I wanted to tell him to stop, wanted to beg him, but a bad word from him to Monroe could hurt me, hurt James. I just stood there, stupid and small, as he reached for the door handle. When he opened it, Bear was sitting in the center of the room, ears up, tongue hanging out of his mouth.
“This mutt is what you were keeping from me?”
He reached for Bear’s collar, but there was a growl and then Quarles reared back with a yelp. Bear darted through his legs and into the store. When Quarles staggered out of the bathroom, one hand was dripping blood onto the tile floor.
“No stray bites me,” he said as he drew a black .38.
I backed out of the hall, keeping between Quarles and Bear, the club in my hand. Quarles thumbed the hammer back and leveled the gun at my chest.
“I can kill you too, boy. Nobody’d question me. Now move away.”
I was rooted in place, couldn’t move if I wanted to. Quarles made a disgusted sound and pushed past me. As soon as he did, something in me unlocked. I twisted around and swung for his wrist, shattering it with the club. Quarles dropped to his knees with a scream, sending the gun skidding across the linoleum. I stepped back, amazed at what I had done. Quarles looked at me with bloodshot eyes.
“Quarles, wait. I didn’t mean to—”
“I should thank you,” he said, drawing himself up. “Gives me the reason to do what I’ve wanted to do since I met you.”
Quarles lurched forward, grabbing my collar and swinging me into one of the floor displays. My bad arm hit the shelf, and the pain sent me to the floor. The club skittered away from me.
I tried to get up, but Quarles drove his fist into my stomach, knocking the wind out of me. He lifted his hand again, and Bear jumped at him with a snarl, digging his teeth into the man’s calf and thrashing wildly. Quarles kicked him into a far wall and then scooped up the club. Bear cowered, ears back, eyes wide, as Quarles came for him.
My hand hit a hot piece of metal as I scrambled away. Quarles’s revolver. I grabbed it just as Quarles was raising the club over Bear’s skull.
He was starting to swing when I lifted the gun and pulled the trigger.
