Repent, page 15
She rolled onto her back, linked her hands behind her head, and admired a hunting eagle soaring over the tree line. His wing span looked huge against the blue sky and it was rather comforting that Gunner was too big to be considered easy prey.
This was definitely an isolated area and Gunner hadn’t had a single aggressive incident. Maybe she’d rent the log cabin another week. Unlike Justin, she was her own boss and could choose when to return to investigative work. Besides, this vacation wasn’t only for Gunner. The horror of her last case had left her reeling.
They both needed a break and she wanted to give her dog as much time as necessary. And just hope he’d be able to work safely around strangers again. Or more accurately, around men.
She twisted against the grass, checking on Gunner who was wistfully studying the horses grazing in the distance. Yesterday—their first morning without Justin—he’d remained stuck to her side, stressed about being left as Nikki’s sole protector. But now his worried brown eyes didn’t follow her every move. He looked like a normal companion dog, not a hero who had put his life on the line. Saving her.
Gunner’s courage had come at a high cost though. The experts at the K9 center had warned he should be introduced to people slowly. That he was especially unreliable around crowds and men. And sadly that his aggression issues might be permanent.
She tilted her arm, shielding her eyes against the sun, imagining investigative work without her dog. She’d hate being alone. So would he.
He would never understand why he was being left at home. But the behaviorists believed he might never again be safe in public. Admittedly he had grabbed Dr. Martin’s arm. But the vet’s skin had barely been broken and the man had moved much too close to Nikki. The fact that Gunner hadn’t listened to her commands was more disturbing. If he didn’t obey in a low-stress situation, she’d never be able to call him off when he was pumped.
If her cases only involved women and children, everything would be fine. With them, Gunner was consistently gentle. He was also good with animals. Even now his tail wagged as he stared at the distant horses. But having a dog who didn’t obey was like walking with a stick of dynamite. Someone could be hurt simply for reaching out to shake her hand.
Sighing, she propped herself up to a sitting position, remembering her last case and how the media had crowded around, shoving microphones in her face, jostling to hear more about the pig murders. Gunner wouldn’t have accepted that noisy throng. And while it was doubtful she’d ever again be involved in such a sensational case, even her typical investigative work required interaction with people.
Her phone buzzed. She unzipped the pocket of her running shorts and pulled it out, warily checking caller ID. Media furor had settled over the last few months but happily this was a call she’d always accept.
“Good morning, Sonja,” she said.
“When are you coming back?” Sonja asked. “It’s depressing seeing your office dark. And my latest clients have been totally boring, asking the same old questions about their love lives and if their pets have been reincarnated.” She softened her complaint with a melodic laugh. “There are also a slew of dinner specials at Vinny’s and it’s impossible to get a table without you. Everyone wants to see you and Gunner.”
Nikki’s mouth tightened and she was glad her friend couldn’t see her reaction. It hurt to accept that her beloved dog might never again be able to lie on a restaurant patio. But it would only take one person walking too close...or what Gunner considered too close. And she could never forgive herself if he bit an innocent person.
“We’ll probably stay another week,” she said lightly. “Justin was called back so it’s just Gunner and me now.”
“Obviously the city needs its top homicide detective,” Sonja said dryly. She and Justin didn’t have much in common other than their desire to be polite, for Nikki’s sake. “But how are you and Gunner handling being stuck in the wilderness?” Sonja added. “Is he bored without a job to do and someone to intimidate?”
“What do you mean?” Nikki hadn’t planned to reveal her concerns—not yet—but her psychic friend had picked up things before and it was never wise to discount anything Sonja said. “Gunner doesn’t want to hurt anyone,” she added, a little too defensively.
“Of course not,” Sonja said. “But that dog needs a job. I can’t imagine either of you being happy hiding.”
“We’re not hiding.”
“But you’re not seeing anyone either. It’s not just media you’re trying to avoid.”
Nikki leaned forward. It was impossible to keep anything from Sonja. That was one thing both Sonja and Justin did have in common. They were both irritatingly astute.
“Gunner bit someone,” Nikki admitted. “At the clinic. It was the day before he was discharged so it couldn’t be blamed on pain. Worse, he didn’t listen when I tried to call him off. So it’s best to keep him away from men for a while. Until I’m sure he can be trusted. They’re already talking about removing him from the approved K9 consult list.”
“But you mentioned seeing a groom during your morning runs. There wasn’t any problem with Gunner then.”
“That groom is female.”
Sonja was silent for a second. “Okay, well what does Gunner do when you meet male hikers? There must be some of those wandering through the woods.”
“No, this section is really isolated. That’s why I chose it. And the rare times we meet anyone, I put him on a leash. I can’t trust him not to turn aggressive.”
“But it’s a two-way street. He has to learn to trust your judgment again too.”
Nikki grimaced. Yes, she’d been betrayed by a family friend. A man she had trusted with her life. But she didn’t like to think it was her poor judgment that had caused Gunner’s problems.
“It’s my commands he needs to trust,” she muttered. “Not me.”
“Yes, but Gunner is a highly intelligent dog. His goal is to keep you safe. In his mind, he let someone get close that he shouldn’t have. So he’s extra protective now, deciding that he knows best. Until you prove yourself to him, he isn’t going to change. Cocooning him won’t help.”
Nikki scrambled to her feet, brushing off a dried leaf along with her frustration. Sometimes Sonja’s ideas were so left field, they were hard to absorb. Prove herself to her dog? It was reassuring to think Gunner’s aggressiveness was temporary but the notion that he questioned her judgment was ridiculous. And while Sonja had a successful psychic business, she wasn’t a dog expert. Not like the psychologists at the K9 center.
“He’s a highly trained police dog,” Nikki said. “He can’t act on his own.”
“But he’s not a police dog.” Sonja’s laugh, usually so melodious, was rather grating. “He failed basic training. That’s how you got him. And he’s already proven that if he doesn’t trust his handler, he won’t listen.”
“I’m not just his handler,” Nikki snapped. She kicked a fist-sized stone, sending it rocketing beneath the fence. Gunner raced toward the fence, thinking it was something she wanted retrieved.
“Leave it, Gunner!” she called.
He slid to a stop, the picture of obedience.
“He listens to most things,” she added, her eyes on Gunner who remained rooted in place, waiting for her next command. “But that’s when we’re alone. I’m just afraid what he’ll do around strange men.”
“He senses your emotions are battered,” Sonja said. “He was in rehab during the pig case. But he knows something terrible happened. That it left you affected. Angry.”
“You’re saying I’m the problem? Not him?”
Sonja didn’t answer, her silence heavy.
“Did Justin say something?” Nikki asked. Admittedly, she had lost her temper with a journalist. However, she’d barely touched the man, even after he’d pushed her elderly client and accused the woman’s grandson of deserving to be tortured. She thought she’d done well controlling her anger.
“Justin would never say anything,” Sonja said. “Not to me. But Gunner reflects your state of mind. Always has, always will. And you’re never satisfied unless you’re helping someone.”
Nikki stared over the crisscross of white paddock fences. She didn’t like to think it was her emotions causing Gunner’s problems. Maybe staying away from people wasn’t the right move. But she had been affected by recent events. People had been tortured in that pig barn. Horribly murdered. Even with her psychologist’s help, that anger wasn’t easy to shake off.
“I’ve got to go,” she murmured, shoving away the bloody images. “We’ve got three more miles to run, and it doesn’t look like Gunner’s horse friend is here. Give Stormy a pat for us.”
“Wait,” Sonja said. “So that means you won’t see a single person today? That can’t be good, for either of you.”
“It’s fine. Besides, we’ll see Ana and the horse tomorrow. They’re always here.”
“Obviously that’s not true,” Sonja said. “Because she’s not there today. How can you and Gunner learn to be comfortable with people again if you don’t see anyone?
“Why don’t you come back and stay at my place?” she went on. “Gunner can hang out with your pony and all the other critters. You can leave trails for him to follow, give him a job to do. There’s lots of space and the media will never find you.”
Nikki tilted her head. Sonja had a small acreage that was home to all types of rescue animals, including Stormy, Nikki’s retired pony. Gunner loved the place and it was where he’d honed his tracking skills. It was also much closer to the city. And to Justin.
“You’ll be able to see Justin too,” Sonja added, as if reading her mind. “And I promise not to make either of you sit for any tea leaf readings.”
Nikki gave a rusty laugh followed by a wave of optimism. Sonja’s place was commutable to the city but also very private. It would be a good way to ease Gunner back into society, before he had to face hordes of people.
He still sat by the fence, head cocked, staring wistfully toward the barns. An oval training track stretched toward the south but there was no sign of any activity. Only horses grazing in groups of two and three. But Chico, the compact bay that was usually in this remote paddock, was nowhere in sight. Nor was Ana, the horse’s groom.
At Sonja’s place, Gunner would be able to get close to the animals. Nikki could control his activity and make him feel as if he had a job. It was the better choice.
“We’d love to come to your place, thanks,” she said gratefully. “We’ll pack up and be there before dark.”
She slipped the phone back in her pocket, taking one last glance around for Ana. It was odd the woman wasn’t here. She always brought Chico for grass after his morning gallop and was comfortable with large dogs. She and her horse had become part of Gunner’s routine.
Yesterday Ana even shared a piece of carrot with Gunner. He’d checked with Nikki first, waiting for the signal that it was okay. And it had been reassuring to see him take the treat from Ana’s hand, so gently and with a total lack of suspicion. The K9 therapists would have been pleased.
“Let’s go, fellow,” she said, turning toward the wooded trail. “We can’t wait around for a horse. Besides, you’ll see Stormy tonight.”
And he’d be able to play with the pony. Here, Gunner had to stay on the other side of the fence. Ana had looked aghast when Nikki asked if he could go in Chico’s paddock.
“No, no, no!” she’d said. “You shouldn’t even be this close. The owner wouldn’t like it.” Ana had gestured at one of the several No Trespassing signs before calming her voice. “Besides, Chico is a Thoroughbred. High spirited and sensitive. If he runs out of control, he could get hurt. And I’m getting him ready for an important race.”
Chico didn’t seem especially sensitive, at least not when Gunner was around. In fact, the two animals had played along the fence line, and even Ana had smiled at their camaraderie. It was unfortunate Ana wasn’t around today. It would have been nice to say goodbye. Clearly though, she wasn’t coming.
Nikki gave one last look around then headed for the brush at the back of the clearing. Gunner loped past her, taking up his position scouting the trail ahead. But they’d barely passed the far corner of the paddock before he jerked to a stop.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, peering in the direction of his pricked ears.
He whined, nostrils flaring. Obviously he wanted to check out a tantalizing scent, no doubt some sort of wild animal. It wouldn’t hurt to let him take a quick detour. No one was around and it would compensate for his lack of social time with Chico. Gunner would be much happier if he thought he’d completed a job.
She waved her arm and he shot forward. A startled pheasant rose from the grass, its wings thumping in alarm, but Gunner wasn’t distracted and stayed on the scent. She watched him closely. Didn’t want him out of sight or anywhere near the distant buildings.
When he jumped over the paddock fence, she opened her mouth to call him back. But there was no need. Just beyond the gate, he stopped and sat, signifying a find. He looked back, awaiting her command.
“Good dog,” she said. “Bring it.”
He shoved his nose into the grass and triumphantly headed back, something pale gripped between his jaws. Possibly the remains of an unfortunate rabbit, its killer spooked by their appearance.
Gunner leaped back over the fence and deposited his find at her feet, clearly anticipating praise. But she didn’t give her usual encouragement. Could only stare.
For this was no wild animal.
It was an arm: pinkish white flesh pitted with dirt and severed below the elbow. Stubs marked the spot of each missing finger. It wasn’t bloody and carried a faint whiff of rot.
She jerked away, the sound of her heartbeat thrashing in her ears. This isn’t like the pig farm, she told herself. It’s not like that. But she had to pull in several fortifying breaths before she could calm her thumping heart. Then, steadying herself against Gunner’s back, she reached for her phone.
To continue reading BONE TRAIL, or for more information, click here
Author’s Note
Thank you for taking the time to read Repent! If you enjoyed this book would you help others find it as well? Rate it, recommend it or leave a review. If you’d like to know of special offers or when the next book is available, please sign up for my newsletter at www.BevPettersen.com My family and I appreciate you! - Bev
OTHER BOOKS BY BEV PETTERSEN
Jockeys and Jewels
Color My Horse
Fillies and Females
Thoroughbreds and Trailer Trash
Studs and Stilettos
Millionaire’s Shot
Riding For Redemption
A Scandalous Husband
Backstretch Baby
Shadows of the Mountain
Along Came A Cowboy
Grave Instinct (K9 Mystery)
Bone Trail (K9 Mystery)
A Pony For Christmas (Novella)
About the Author
USA Today Bestselling Author Bev Pettersen is a three-time nominee in the National Readers Choice Award. Bev is also a two-time finalist in RWA’s Golden Heart® Contest as well as the winner of many other international awards including the Reader Views Reviewer’s Choice Award, Aspen Gold Reader’s Choice Award, Write Touch Readers’ Award, Kirkus Recommended Read, and a HOLT Medallion Award of Merit. She competed on the Alberta Thoroughbred race circuit and is an Equestrian Canada certified coach.
Bev lives in Nova Scotia with her family—humans and four-legged—and when she's not writing novels, she's riding. If you’d like to know about special offers or when her next book will be available, please visit her at http://www.BevPettersen.com where you can sign up for a newsletter.
Copyright © 2021 Bev Pettersen
Digital ISBN 978-1-987835-22-9
This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or a portion thereof, in any form except for the use of brief quotations in articles or reviews. This book may not be resold or uploaded for distribution to others.
This is a work of fiction. References to real people, events, establishments, organizations, or locales are intended only to provide a sense of authenticity, and are used fictitiously. All other characters, and all incidents and dialogue, are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real.
Editor: Pat Thomas
Cover Art Design: Vivi Designs
Formatting: L.K. Campbell
http://www.BevPettersen.com
Don't miss out!
Click the button below and you can sign up to receive emails whenever Bev Pettersen publishes a new book. There's no charge and no obligation.
https://books2read.com/r/B-A-VZSB-VWKMB
Connecting independent readers to independent writers.
Bev Pettersen, Repent
