Mattie approached him and knelt to examine the bone. The bottom of it was plastered with hamburger meat, brown and dried at the edges. She knew it hadn’t been there last evening.
Thoughts spun through Mattie’s mind. She’d heard that drug runners sometimes paid to have narcotics dogs killed. Had someone poisoned the hamburger meat to get rid of Robo?
“Come with me.”
Planning to have the meat tested, she carried the bone into the house and put it into a plastic bag. Sealing it, she leaned on the kitchen counter, her hands shaking. What might have happened if Robo didn’t have such a well-trained and sensitive nose?
She took a moment to wash off any poison that might have lingered on her hands and then sank down on the kitchen floor, patting her leg. “Come here.”
Robo leaned into Mattie as she hugged him, burying her nose in his silky fur.
There’s nothing like the comfort of a good dog.
“I’ll buy you another one.” After a few minutes of cuddling, she knew what she needed to do next. “You wait here.”
Mattie went out to her car to get Robo’s work collar and leash. There would be no better way to assure his living quarters were poison free than to have him do a sweep of the area.
Robo got excited when he saw his equipment. After putting it on him, Mattie picked up the bag holding the bone, opening it carefully. She held it so he could get a whiff without touching it.
“Let’s go find the poison,” she told him.
Going out into the yard, Mattie led Robo on a sweep of the area. He alerted once more by his water dish. Made sense.
“Christ,” Mattie muttered as she led Robo back to the house so she could get a container for the water. She planned to put in a request for razor wire for the top of the fence first thing tomorrow. But now, she needed to call Sheriff McCoy to report this crime and file a report. An attempt on the life of a K-9 was serious criminal activity and needed to be handled as such.
By this time, Mattie was no longer shaken; she was just plain mad. She vowed she’d find whoever had messed with her dog. She’d track him down and nail his hide.
After talking to the sheriff, Mattie felt too worked up to eat anything. She decided to give Robo a quick brushing so he wouldn’t shed while inside the school building. Then she changed into the newest everyday uniform she had in her closet, since her dress uniform had been trashed the day before. She had no time to style her hair, so she ran a comb through her short bob and tucked the sides behind her ears.
As she drove, Mattie analyzed her nervousness. She knew it had everything to do with the past and nothing to do with the present. She was more confident in Robo’s performance now than she had been yesterday when she’d last faced this meeting. She knew he was capable of finding even invisible amounts of the drugs he’d been trained to detect, and his obedience training was spot on.
But she couldn’t shake the memory of how Brennaman belittled her. Yes, she’d been a wild student, but an educator shouldn’t try to browbeat a kid into submission. Well, she’d have to show him that she’d changed. She’d hold her head up and show him she knew her business.
Mattie pulled up to the school, a building made from brown native stone and cream-colored aluminum siding nestled against the hillside. The sheriff’s Jeep was already parked, and he was sitting inside it, talking on his cell phone. She parked beside him, got out of her cruiser, and released Robo from the back.
Robo was beginning to prance in place to show how excited he was. Mattie snapped a leash onto his collar and ran through a few quick obedience drills to get him into the right mood.
When Sheriff McCoy ended his call, he exited his vehicle, speaking to Mattie as they walked up to the building. “Mr. Chadron says that Mike is at a dog show and should be back late tonight.”
“Why would he have been up in the mountains yesterday if he was headed for a dog show?”
“Good question. I wish he was here so we could ask him.”
They entered the building together, and Mattie saw that things hadn’t changed much in the past decade. The glass case filled with old trophies and framed photographs of past championship teams still sat against the wall, and the oak counter still separated the lobby from the administrative offices.
The receptionist was new, a plump thirtysomething bottle blonde, with teased hair and a frazzled attitude. “You must be Sheriff McCoy,” she said. “I’m Betty Potts.”
The two shook hands while McCoy introduced Mattie.
“I feel just awful about not noticing that Grace was absent yesterday.” Betty shook her head, looking teary.
“Were you expecting her?” McCoy asked.
“Yes, she’s our student volunteer. At first I thought she was late, but I’ve been so swamped, and I got busy with things. And then I guess I forgot she was coming.”
“Did you know Grace well?”
“She started working for me just this week, so no, I didn’t know her well. But she seemed like such a good kid. Very respectful, responsible.”
“Do you have any idea who might have hurt her?”
Tears welled, and she brushed at them. “No, I’m sorry, but I don’t even know who her friends are or anything like that. School hasn’t started yet, and she wasn’t here in the office last year.”
“Perhaps Mr. Brennaman can help us.”
“Oh. Oh, yes. I’ll tell him you’re here.” She turned and hurried down a hallway leading toward the back of the office.
Feeling a tug on the leash, Mattie glanced down at Robo. As typical, he’d picked up on her nerves and was trying to see around the end of the counter to keep an eye on Betty. She corrected him and told him to sit. By the time the receptionist returned, Robo was sitting at heel, panting.
“Come with me back to the conference room. Mr. Brennaman will join you there.”
Just shoot me.
Keeping Robo in heel position, Mattie followed Sheriff McCoy down a long hallway and into a room that was carpeted in cheap-looking but serviceable brown Berber and dominated by a large, walnut-grain Formica-topped table.
“Can I get you something to drink?” Betty asked, looking as if serving them was the last thing she wanted to do.
“No, thank you,” McCoy said. “Deputy?”
Mattie felt like she couldn’t swallow anything around the nervous lump in her throat. “No, I’m good. Thanks.”
They sat in silence for a few minutes. Apparently growing antsy, McCoy pushed back his chair and got up to circle the room. Robo raised his head to watch, prompting Mattie to tell him, “Stay.”
“This place hasn’t changed much,” McCoy said. “I’ve been here a few times since I graduated, but when I was a student here, I never knew this room existed.”
Mattie was familiar with the room; the table was the same. “Mr. Brennaman put me in here for detention before I got on the track team and cleaned up my act.”
The sheriff’s eyes narrowed as he came back around the table and took his seat. Mattie felt her cheeks flame with heat.
“I thought you might need to know,” she said. She reached down and stroked Robo’s head.
The door opened, and Brennaman bustled in. McCoy stood, so Mattie did, too. Robo stood when she did, and his hackles raised on his shoulders. She could see him assuming a “guard” position, so she quickly intervened and told him to sit. He obeyed, but his eyes remained pinned on the principal. She didn’t know why he was acting so protective, but it was probably her fault. Emotions from a handler ran right down the leash, and she assumed Robo could sense her nerves. She hoped no one else in the room could.