Page 2 of Junkyard Dog

Focusing on the misshapen indent, she balanced her flashlight between her knees and began snapping pictures of the small tufts of black fur embedded in the cracks of the plastic grill. She reached out, pulling a few of the long hairs out and running them lightly between her fingers.

“Definitely not a bear,” she muttered, bringing the beam of the light closer to the vehicle to assess for blood. “How far back down the path were you when you hit it?”

“Right there,” the tourist replied, pointing a few feet away. “It didn’t even hesitate, just got up and kept running.” He looked back out into the darkness. “Hope it’s not too badly hurt.”

She glanced over the terrain and smiled at the man. “You probably just spooked it. How about we get you into Max’s truck to relax until the tow arrives?”

*

Max passed asandwich over to Charlotte, the corners squished flat in his large hands. “Why do you always put them inmytruck? Why can’t they wait it out in yours?”

“Because you need to work on your people skills, and a captive audience is better than nothing.” She grinned, biting into the offering and grimacing. “Ew. Mustard.”

“Gimme that,” he grumbled, snatching the sandwich from her hands and passing over another. “Ham and cheese, no mayo, no mustard, no butter, no taste. Just like you prefer, your highness.”

Reclining her seat a fraction, she peered into the blackened landscape of Joshua Tree. “You’d think if someone’s dog got loose, they’d have notified the station or something,” she mused. “Or someone would have seen it during daylight. If it’s covering this much ground, how has no one gotten a good look at it?”

“Because it’s a cougar,” he replied, his mouth full. “Like you.”

“I’m not a cougar,” she protested, whacking his arm with her hat. “I’m barely thirty. And it’s not a cougar. The fur on that grille was consistent with dog fur. Same coarseness.”

“Then it’s a dog.”

She crumpled the sandwich wrapping in her hand. “I’m coming back tomorrow to check out the area in daylight.”

Easing his sunglasses back on, he grinned over at her and started the truck. “Okay there, super ranger. I’m spending my first day off in bed, out of the sand, and out of the heat. But you do you and give me the CliffsNotes version on Wednesday.”

“I don’t even know why you wear those at night,” she grumbled, straightening her bun and setting her hat to rights. “You look silly.”

“I look badass. Like the Terminator.”

*

Alex muted thetelevision and groaned as he rolled over to find his ringing phone, his broken ribs protesting every move. “Hey.”

“How bad is it on your end?”

He rolled his eyes at his brother’s barked question. “It’s all good,” he reassured Ryan, balancing his phone on his shoulder while he inched off his bed to recheck his injuries over in the small bathroom. “You getting much of an echo?”

Ryan muttered under his breath for a moment. “Bo’s too wasted to feel much of anything. I caught the initial impact, but not much outside of a dull ache now.”

Skimming his fingers over his skin, he angled his side toward the mirror. “Two broken, a bit of bruising, and a bonus grille imprint as a souvenir.”

“And a second sighting,” Ryan pointed out, the frustration in his voice coming through loud and clear.

“I’m on it,” he said, gingerly tapping at one rib that didn’t look properly aligned. “I’ll walk the trail tomorrow to clear anything questionable, then head back after work to pick up the scent. Brace yourself.”

Ryan let out a sigh of exasperation, speaking through gritted teeth in anticipation of the discomfort that was about to blast through the bodies of the Cerberus brothers. “We can be out there within the week if you need us.”

Pressing against the misplaced rib, he pushed it into place with a grunt, Ryan echoing him through the speaker. “Until I find his base, there’s no point.”

“And now we’re up against a second sighting,” Ryan reminded him.

“Whatever,” he muttered, rifling through his medicine cabinet for a bandage and coming up empty-handed. “Fucking sedans.” He eased his shirt back down. “If the guy stays local, I’ll track him, okay? You know that. Tell Bo to call me sometime this week.”

“Will do. Touch base tomorrow night.”

He fumbled the phone, cursing as it hit the floor of his trailer.

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