Jim pointed into one of the thicker areas of the brush. “I swear to God she was just there a few minutes ago.”
“Good,” he said. “Let me see if I can talk to her.”
He headed back to the truck, picked up the leash and a collar, and filled his pockets full of treats. Jim watched as Kurt walked calmly toward the thickest part of the brush and slipped in, away from any watchful eyes. Once out of sight, he called out for her. “Sabine, I’m here. I’m so sorry that you’ve had such a rough time, but I’m here, little one.”
He retraced his steps, moving slowly, heading toward the same tree trunks where he had placed some treats before. As he hit every tree, all the treats were gone, although he realized that the birds could have taken them. Yet he’d like to think it was a good sign that Sabine maybe got some too. He quickly refilled three of the spots closest to the building. He didn’t want to put her in any conflict with humans, but he needed to know where she was spending all her time. Then he sat down on one of the fallen logs on the far side and waited.
He heard the rustle of bushes around him, and he completely ignored them, content to just be. He waited, calling her calmly and quietly, telling her that he was here to help make her life a little bit easier and that any time she was ready to come and meet him, he was good with that. His only tool was the sound of his own voice, but she would recognize it fairly quickly and wasn’t one that she would know from her recent history, but life wasn’t always just about negatives.
After a good twenty minutes, he heard more rustling.
He smiled, put out a hand with some more treats, tossed a few into a pathway that he had been staring at, wondering if she would come close enough to take them. So far he had yet to catch a glimpse of her. He wasn’t even sure that it was the right dog he was looking for. But, as he turned around, a pair of glowing eyes were behind a bush.
“It’s okay, sweetie. I’m here.”
And that might have been enough for him, but it wasn’t enough for Sabine. She sat there, staring at him. He was an unknown, and she’d already come up against some ugly unknowns. He tossed some food her way; she looked down at it and then back at him and didn’t move.
“And that’s a good thing,” he said. “You take your time. I’m not here to hurt you. I’m here to save you. We’ll get you out of this mess.”
And he studied her golden markings to match her up with the pictures he had. It didn’t matter if it was the right dog or not because he would make sure that this one was looked after too, but he wanted to make sure that he caught the right one as well. He sat here and waited, right up to the time of his meeting with Amos, telling Sabine that he had to go. When he stood, she disappeared. He immediately put down more treats for her and said, “I’ll be back in an hour or so.” When he walked back to the truck stop, the detective stood out front, talking on his phone.
Amos hung up, looked at Kurt, and asked, “Now what?”
“I don’t know,” Kurt said in a calm voice. “You wanted to meet me.”
“Somebody said they heard gunshots here.”
“Well, one for sure,” Kurt said in a calm voice.
“Did you fire it?”
“No, sure didn’t.”
“Are you armed?”
“No, I’m not,” he said.
The detective looked at Kurt’s rental truck and looked at him suspiciously.
Kurt stepped back and said, “Go ahead and search it.”
Amos frowned and then shook his head. “Did you see the shooter?”
“I think so, yes, but I didn’t see the shooter in the act to know for sure,” he said. “I think it was one of the punk kids in that five-person gang who hangs around here.”
At that, the detective’s face wrinkled up. “They’ve been nothing but trouble,” he said. “I keep hoping that something will change, and either I can nail their asses to the wall and put them in jail or they’ll turn a new leaf and become decent human beings.”
“How long have they been doing this?” Kurt asked.
“Years. One of them is nothing but trouble.” He slid a sideways look at Kurt. “Kind of like you.”
“Well, I turned out okay,” he said easily.
“Maybe, maybe not. The jury’s still out on that one.”
“Right,” he said, fully realizing that what he had said to Laurie Ann was so true. Once tarred by a certain brush, it was hard to assume a different image. “Still everybody deserves a second chance,” he said.
“And some of them are just bad through and through,” the detective growled. He stared off in the distance. “So what do you know about the gunfire?”
“I know it was aimed at me,” he said.
“Did it hit you?”
He gave him a lopsided glance. “Just slightly.”
The detective’s gaze narrowed. “He shot you?”
“Yeah, took a burn on the shoulder,” he said, pulling over his T-shirt collar, so Amos could see the bandage.
“And you didn’t report it?”
“No,” he said, “I’m not exactly the most desirable person to be reporting things like that.”
The detective started swearing at him.
Kurt held up a hand. “Stop,” he said. “The days where I have to listen to that shit are long gone. I made a decision not to go to the hospital, not to press charges. It’s just a flesh wound, and it’s not bad.”
“And how are we supposed to ever deal with these kids,” he said, “if we don’t catch them after crap like this?”
“Well, if I could have caught him,” he said, “I would have. Believe me. I’m still looking for him.”
At that, the detective froze and glared. “No vigilante justice.”
“I didn’t say it would be,” he stated, reining in his own temper. But it’s obvious the detective didn’t believe him. Kurt blew out a long breath. “I know you’ve still got a problem with me,” he said. “The fact is, back then, you had a reason, but you don’t now. I’m a completely different person. You don’t have to believe me. I don’t really care, but I don’t want to get shot any more than you want to get shot,” he said. “You can dig the bullet out of the seat of my truck, if you want.”
“Well, if you don’t report this, I can’t pull the kids in for it.”
“Who are these five kids?”
“Well, they’re prime pickings for one of the local gangs,” he said, “who is actively recruiting new members right now.”
Kurt winced. “They have to keep the numbers up.”
“The gang wars have gotten much worse since you left,” the detective said. “Some of it’s pretty ugly stuff.”
“It was always ugly stuff,” he said. “It’s just a matter of time before the ugliness gets younger and younger.”
“It’s here now,” Amos said. “They’re pulling in a lot of teens—fourteen, fifteen, sixteen-year-old kids.”
“And that’s not cool,” Kurt said, thinking about his own son, Jeremy.
“Well, sometimes they get them into these situations, where the kids don’t know how to get out of it. So they end up in the gang, even though they didn’t want to,” he said. “But, once they’re hooked, they’re pressured to stay or are blackmailed into staying, and that just becomes a bad end all the way around.”