He shook his head before taking another look outside.
“It’ll be fine. Trust me.”
“I do… It’s just…” His eyes met with hers. “We need to keep going,” Matt urged. “That’s all there is to it.”
A loud bang from downstairs.
“Quick.” She waved him toward her. “That door won’t hold.”
Another bang followed by a crash and dishes breaking.
“You’ve had long enough!” a man’s voice echoed through the house.
“Shit!” Matt snatched the blanket from the bed and placed it inside the window frame, then shoved Jenny into the closet. “Stay down!”
She looked on as he scooped the laundry from the floor and began covering her with it. The odor became overwhelming. “You’re coming in here too.” She squeezed the words through the last gap in the clothing before everything went dark. Her breaths shortened until eventually she held it. Her adrenaline surged. She could feel the pile shifting—Matt working his way into the opposite side of the closet.
“Last chance guys!” his voice rang out again from downstairs. He must have been right below them. The words shot right through the floor.
Jenny snuck a few breaths and wriggled her hand through the laundry, sorting, reaching for Matt. There. Their fingers laced together. “Ready?” Her question muffled by the layers of clothing and an unwillingness to fully open her mouth, fearing the stench might knock her unconscious. “Matt?” she tried again.
He mumbled something back, but she couldn’t be certain what it was.
“Seek!” the man yelled.
A few loud barks followed the command.
Jenny forced a deep, sickening breath in. Don’t throw up. Her nerves caused a violent shake, anticipating the likelihood of being found. This smell has to keep us hidden, right? There’s no way that dog finds us in here. Hopefully, the open window and blanket will trick them. Her hand tightened within Matt’s. He squeezed back, the two reassuring one another they weren’t alone.
From downstairs, Jenny could hear the loud clack of the dog’s claws against the hardwood—its whining while it paced along the walls, making quick searches through the rooms below them. Even the persistent sniffing, she swore, could be heard through the wood floor. We’re going to be found. I just know it. I can’t do this. Her breaths sped up, became shallow as her nerves continued to get the best of her. The pile of clothing pumped in and out as she stirred. Matt squeezed her hand again, but it wasn’t enough to calm her. I want to be right… just once.
“Downstairs is cleared!” the man called. “Won’t be too long now!”
The panting of the dog came too quickly—it raced straight for the bedroom. Its claws clacked through the room. By the bed. The window. Back toward the hall. Then it whined and stopped. Silence. Did he leave? Maybe we’re— Scratching at the closet’s door frame prevented her from finishing the hopeful thought. Damn it! It began to circle just outside the door, begging to be let in. Three loud barks jolted her, her hands sweating, her chest cinching down around her lungs—too much pressure. She broke through the filth for some air. Another bark.
The man’s boots traipsed along the floorboards from down the hall—each creak a reminder to Jenny that they had lost. It was over. Only a matter of time.
“Good boy.” The man’s feet shifted, squaring up to their door. A knock. “Hello…” He laughed. “I wonder if they’re in there.” The metal clasp pinged as the man secured the dog back to its lead and guided it to the other side of the room. “Matt. Jenny. Come on out of there.”
They both sprung out from the clothing and opened the door. “That dog makes it too easy for you,” Jenny gasped, taking in some fresh air from the open window.
“Why the hell’d you shut in like that?” the man asked. “You two know better than that.”
“I tried to tell her, Danny”—Matt raised his eyebrows and stared at Jenny—“but she doesn’t listen.”
Jenny rolled her eyes. “First off, this is training and falling off the roof seemed like a stupid idea, Matt.” She glared back at him. “If you were so concerned about us hiding in the house, we should’ve just come in through the back door and straight out the front. Hiding in the closet seemed like the only thing we could do. And, with it smelling like it did, I figured there was no way in hell that Sherman would find us in there.”
“Well, you were wrong.”
“Jenny,” Danny started, “it doesn’t work like that. Come on… think.” He dropped his rucksack to the floor, shaking his head in disappointment. “Remember the chili? People smell chili, all of it together. But a dog smells the beans, the meat, the onions, every bit of it separately. Even with that closet smelling like it did, Sherman can still get your scent. You guys know the only way to beat the dog is to keep going. You can’t stop.” He took a breath. “How many times do I have to tell you before you get it down.”
“Only had to tell me once,” Matt grumbled to himself. “That’s why—”
“I get it, whatever. Won’t happen again.” Frustrated, Jenny snatched the blanket from the window and wrapped herself in it before plopping down next to Sherman. “You’re just too good, boy,” she said, scratching behind his ears, using the retired police canine to keep herself from any further criticism. “Just too good.” She caught Matt staring. “Jealous?”
Breaking his gaze from her, Matt offered a halfhearted smile. “Not quite.”
Liar. “Don’t listen to him, Sherman.” Her fingers scratched over the short, brown fur of her favorite Belgian Malinois. His leg began to kick as all dogs do. “That’s the good spot, huh?”
Danny palmed a few treats. Sherman took them without hesitation, leaving Danny to wipe the slobber to his pants. “Don’t know where I’d be without you, pup,” he said. The proud canine rolled onto his side, and Jenny began scratching along his belly.
“They’re both just jealous you like me better,” she joked. “Always are.”
Danny began rummaging through the room, and Matt took the cue, joining him.
“Jenny, don’t take it personal,” Danny said, his hands flicking through a stack of magazines on the nightstand. “It’s why we train. We can make mistakes now, so they aren’t made later. It’s when we make them more than once or twice that they become habits. Bad ones.”
“But—”
“Just say okay.” Blunt words of irritation from Danny.
Jenny nodded, conceding, but refusing to actually say okay—a partial win in her mind.
“We’ll get this house cleared and one more before we head back home.” He tossed a half-empty bottle of Tylenol toward his rucksack while making his way across the room. “We do it the right way next time. Right?”
“So…” Jenny smirked, bending an eyebrow, knowing Danny had backed himself into a corner. “For us to do that, we just need to run right through the house and keep going?”
Danny ran a hand down his cheek and across his mouth. “Point taken,” he muttered under his breath as he sifted through a few drawers of a dresser. “How about this? Next house, you two can clear”—He coughed—“practice clearing it after Sherman makes his first pass through.”
“Deal!” Matt nearly shouted.
“Slow and methodical, not rushed.”
“I know…” Jenny avoided eye contact with Danny as she stood, shrugging the blanket from her back. It briefly covered Sherman before he managed to wriggle out from underneath. “I’ll get the bathroom and office down the hall.”