Page 21 of Junkyard Dog

“Put that away,” he stated, putting his large form between her and the cashier. “This is my annual contribution to animal welfare in the greater Coachella Valley.”

*

Max glared atthe bowl as Charlotte opened her small cooler and pulled out a steak. “You aren’t seriously doing this, are you? That stupid mutt’ll be eating better than you.”

“You’re just mad I didn’t bring one for you,” Charlotte retorted. “The poor thing is probably starving out here.”

Rising to his feet, he rolled his eyes. “If this dog is as big as you say, something’s keeping him here. Maybe he’s picking off the coyotes.”

“I got a collar around him last time, so I’m hoping to leash him and bring him in next time I get close enough.” She shone her flashlight toward the ridge before she headed back to the truck. “We should probably hit the north quadrant now. Becky mentioned the campground was packed by seven.”

He followed her through the park, flashing his brights at her periodically to signal he was veering off the road to check the various gravel paths that wound into the desert. As they approached the campground, they were met by a large group of people waving frantically.

She pulled up to the group, rolling down her window. “Everything okay over here?”

One man stepped up to the truck, pointing toward the moonlit plateau. “The guys over there found two bodies near the dam trails,” he said breathlessly. “My wife and son just took off toward the visitor center to find help.”

Chapter Eight

Alex turned themusic down and paced the bar with his phone tight to his ear, oblivious to the ire of his customers. “Yeah, I get it’s your job, but get someone to cover for you tonight. You sound exhausted.”

He could hear Charlotte moving around her apartment as she sighed. “It’s fine,” she answered, her voice tired. “I’ve showered, eaten, and downed a pot of coffee. One more night won’t kill me.”

“Yeah, right,” he muttered. “Will you at least stay tight to Max? You shouldn’t be working alone until whoever killed those people is caught.”

“Max is guiding the investigators through the trails. I’ll be fine. I have a gun and the CB with me in the truck at all times.”

He stormed behind the bar, cranking the music back up to appease his snarky clientele. “Will you at least promise not to leave your truck?” he asked, almost yelling to be heard over the din of the room. “No dog-feeding, no animal rescue?”

“Sure,” she replied distractedly, her voice muffled. “Look, I better run. But I’ll text you when I’m off.”

He leaned against the counter and dropped his head. “Please do,” he muttered. “It’s not easy to find a dinner date on short notice.”

Her laugh rang through the phone before it went dead. He ran his hand through his hair, grabbed a pen and paper, and hit the floor.

*

Charlotte turned onher high beams as she flipped around at the north entrance and made her way back down the deserted road. The campgrounds had emptied out quickly after the bodies were discovered, the tourists in no rush to be the next victim.

Max had radioed updates in intermittently throughout the early evening. Both men had been found a good trek off the beaten path, their bodies hidden among the rocks and out of view from the walkways and roads. Homicide believed one body was fresh, dumped within the past forty-eight hours. The other was weeks old and, according to Max, in bad shape. The park had been crawling with police all day, keeping her and Max on shift well into the early afternoon, giving them a few hours of rest before their scheduled shifts.

She turned off the pavement onto a gravel road that looped for several miles. A flash of movement ahead of her headlight beams caught her eye and she hit the brakes, her hand hovering over her gun. The movement drew nearer until it stood directly in the light.

“Damn dog,” she exclaimed in relief, putting her hands on her pounding heart. She unrolled her window and reached out. “Come here!”

The dog stalked toward her, his ears and nose twitching. When he reached her hand, he ducked his enormous head and nuzzled it briefly before he continued on.

“Where’re you going, boy?” she asked, leaning out her window as the beast gracefully leapt into the back of her truck. The entire vehicle rocked back under his weight while the dog circled around and sat, his ears alert.

Stretching across the cab, she reached over and opened the small back window, wiggling her fingers toward her new travel companion. “I don’t think you’re going to like this,” she warned as the dog ducked down and gave her hand a lick. “It’s going to be bumpy ride back there.”

She rolled up her window and eased onto the gas, adjusting her rearview mirror. “You going to keep me safe? Or is it the other way around?” she asked, rounding a narrow bend slowly and chuckling when the regal-looking dog flashed its paws out to balance himself. He gave a low snort. “We’ve got a stab-happy psycho on the loose,” she continued, her shoulders relaxing slightly with the animal’s presence. “If you see him, you bark. Got it?”

The dog growled in response, his long fur blowing back as she picked up speed.

She nattered away to replace the silence of the cab, keeping one eye on the road and one on the dog.

“I can’t keep calling you ‘boy,’ can I?” she asked as she pulled back onto the pavement. “How about Rex?”

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