Bauer couldn’t get a license plate, but he got the color and model of the truck. He quickly phoned Badger. “A gunman broke into her house and has just left here. He’s driving an old gray Toyota pickup, coming down off the back road and turning onto the main road. He was too far away for me to get a license plate.”

  Badger muttered, “I’m on it.”

  With that, Bauer disconnected and retraced his steps, moving at a somewhat slower pace, but still at a pretty good clip, in case that damn vehicle headed to the clinic. Bauer kept it in sight, but thankfully it headed off on the main road and disappeared.

  As soon as he reached the clinic, the door opened ahead of him, and Mags bolted out, throwing her arms around him. “Who the hell was that?” she cried out.

  “That was somebody in your house, waiting for the War Dog to come back,” Bauer murmured, holding her close. He pulled her tighter against him and whispered to her, trying to calm her nerves. “It’s okay. You’re fine.”

  She reared back and glared at him. “I’m fine, but you could have been shot.”

  He stared at her and realized that she had been worried about him, not just about herself or Toby. He grinned at her, a slow blooming smile that was both cheeky and absolutely delighted. “Ha. You were worried about me. Go ahead. Admit it.”

  “Of course I was worried about you,” she snapped at him. Finally, not being able to calm her nerves, she raised both hands in the air, palms up. “Although why, I don’t know, since you keep throwing yourself into these scenarios.”

  “Sure,” he admitted, with a smug tone. “Got to keep my girlfriend safe.” And, with that, he looped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her back toward the clinic and the dogs.

  But she stopped, midstep. “Girlfriend?” She added an ominous tone to that word.

  He chuckled. “Yep, surely that’s obvious by now.” At that, he looked around. “Do you want to go back up to the house or stay down here?”

  “Home. Plus I need to see if he did any damage. … And you still haven’t explained the girlfriend remark.”

  “No explanation needed,” he said, as he beamed at her. “You’re doing really well on this new pathway of ours.”

  “I’m not doing well at all. Sounds to me like you’re pushing. Again.”

  “Nope, not at all,” he disagreed. “Absolutely not pushing.”

  “But you are.” She glared at him in protest.

  “I mean, so what if I called you my girlfriend? How is that pushing? Surely it’s not more than you can handle.”

  “No, it’s not. I mean, I’m still struggling, but you apparently are jumping into this with both feet.” She just turned and stared at him.

  He reached out and clicked her jaw shut and smiled. “The dogs, remember?”

  She glared at him, then headed back to the cages.

  He watched while she checked over Millie, who was more than anxious to be petted. She looked down at her and shook her head. “I don’t feel that good about leaving Millie here alone but not sure the house is any better after the gunman …”

  “Let’s just take them both back up to the house then.”

  With the dogs on leashes, she asked, “Are we even allowed to go in?”

  “We are, but we will have company soon. The cops are on the way.”

  Her shoulders sagged. “So, another evening where I not only don’t get dinner on time but we’ll have to deal with them.”

  “Sorry.” By the time they got up to the house, he heard the sirens in the distance.

  She sighed. “We could have had dinner first. They didn’t seem in any hurry when I called.”

  “Badger probably leaned on them.”

  “Great, so he already knows too. Why don’t you just post it in the dailies?”

  “Hey, I would if I thought it would do any good. You shouldn’t be upset because people will know eventually anyway.”

  “I’m trying to run a business. It’s hardly a vote of confidence when gunmen are around every corner. It’s been what, the third time in the last week? I’ve lost count.”

  “We’re doing everything we can to get this back on track.”

  “I know. It’s just frustrating.”

  He led the way back up to the house. When Mags stood inside and saw all the damage—the drywall, bits of paint and wall debris all over her floor—she stopped and stared. “Now you’ll tell me that I can’t even clean this up, won’t you?”

  “Not until the cops see it first,” he noted. “This is probably enough damage to warrant an insurance claim too, so you might want to refrain from doing much.”

  “I don’t know. If I don’t have to file a claim, I would prefer not to. I don’t like dealing with them either. The deductibles are often so high that it’s not even worth it.”

  “Still you might want to take some photos before the cops arrive and shoo us away. I’ll take a good look in a few minutes. We’ll have to deal with the cops first anyway.” He could see how little she wanted to deal with anything, but it wasn’t something she could avoid at this point. Back in the kitchen, he quickly put on coffee for everybody. By the time she brought the cops through, and they had taken a look at the damage, Bauer noted two of them, one on the phone and the other one looking over at him.

  “I see we have a problem,” the cop stated.

  “What problem is that?”

  “You didn’t catch the one guy who we could have gotten answers from.”

  “No, I didn’t.” There was nothing to like about the cop’s tone or words. “You still have another one in custody though, don’t you?”

  “He’s in hospital right now,” he replied, “still with a head injury.”

  “But he’s conscious?”

  “He’s conscious, but he’s got a concussion, so they’re erring on the side of caution, keeping him in for a bit.”

  “And what? He doesn’t have anything to say?”

  The cop hesitated. “He appears to be under the care of a psychiatrist, but the patient’s not considered dangerous in any way.”

  At that, Bauer nodded. “That kind of makes sense. He was concerned about the dog. Looking back at it, I don’t think he was intent on coming after us,” Bauer admitted. “Now this gunman today, that was a completely different story. He was shooting at whatever he could hit, but basically he hated the dog.”

  Mags stepped into the kitchen right then, and Bauer wished he’d kept his voice down.

  “Seriously? That War Dog has done nothing to anyone,” Mags proclaimed.

  “I’m not even sure that this was necessarily the dog he was trying to shoot,” the cop added.

  Bauer shook his. “The shooter was so angry tonight that the War Dog was definitely the target, but he was for shooting any animal. Possibly us too.”

  Mags stared at him, her eyes widening. “What? What? You mean somebody is just associating all dogs with this one and thinks all should be taken out? And we’re associated with it too?”

  “Something like that. He told me that Toby bit him.”

  “And yet I don’t know when,” she said defensively. “It would have been before he came to me, like two weeks ago—unless he was the one who broke in and dognapped him—because Toby hasn’t been close enough to anybody else to bite them. Well, other than you, Bauer, as you carried Toby back to the clinic, after after he was shot out in the woods.”

  “Exactly,” Bauer agreed, and he turned to the cop. “I need to finish my research on the guy in the hospital, so we can find this buddy of his. They have to be connected.”

  The cop didn’t like anything about it. “Look. I would suggest that you just stay out of it. Let us handle this. I don’t know what you did in the military, and I get that you think you have a personal stake in this, but you guys really need to butt out. And we’ll tell Badger the same thing.”

  “You go ahead and do that, but I disagree. You have made zero progress, and I am not sure you even took the dognapping seriously at all. I don’t want that War Dog or the vet shot.”

  At that, Mags walked closer to Bauer.

  “Meaning, what?” the cop asked.

  Bauer tucked her up closer to him. “At this point in time, I’m more concerned with catching the gunman who broke in and shot up the house today.”

  “So am I,” the cop replied. “Obviously it’s a different kettle of fish than the one who’s in the hospital. The question is, are these men related? I’ve seen both of them, and they don’t look similar.”

  “That doesn’t mean that they don’t have different fathers or mothers or maybe were adopted even,” Bauer suggested, turning to look at her. “I just find it difficult to believe that two separate cases against this same War Dog aren’t related somehow.” He looked over at the cop to see him nodding.

  “Agreed.”

  Bauer looked back at her and said, “Maybe we should go out for dinner tonight.”

  She shook her head. “I’m not leaving the dogs.”

  Bauer looked down at Toby and Millie and nodded. “Okay. Maybe we’ll order in then.”

  She laughed, looking at him incredulously. “I’m not sure how you can even think about eating right now, but that sounds like what my plan was originally.”

  Bauer looked over at the cop. “Presumably you need access to all this?”

  He nodded. “Yeah, we have a team coming in. They’ll check for fingerprints and grab any bullets and casings they can find, plus look for footprints and anything else we see around here.”

  Bauer nodded.

  “It would be better if you left,” the cop noted, looking over at Mags.

  “That’s not happening,” Bauer replied. “You shouldn’t need the kitchen, so I can always whip up a meal, and we can eat it upstairs on the deck.” Mags turned to him, and he saw the gratitude in her gaze. “That’s what we’ll do. Why don’t you take the dogs on up, Mags, and I’ll bring up the food in a little while.”

  “I can help with dinner,” she offered.

  “Don’t worry about it. I got dinner. You wanted to shower after all the surgeries today, so why don’t you just go up and chill.”

  She laughed. “You make a great housemate.”

  “Yep, I do. Now go.”

  She rolled her eyes, then looked at the cop and asked, “You don’t need me, right?”

  “I’ll need you to sign a statement, but we can do that up on the deck right now, if you want.”

  “Sure, let’s go get that done,” she agreed, and she led the way upstairs.

  At that, Bauer checked out the other cop, who had stepped into the kitchen doorway. Bauer shifted his hands to his hips at the expression on the cop’s face. “What the hell aren’t you guys telling me?”

  “It doesn’t look like the lock on the door was picked.”

  “What?”

  “The guy used a key to get in.”

  Chapter 8

  By the time dinner was done, Mags felt some of the adrenaline and the shock fading away. “I’m so tired now,” she murmured, struggling to hold back her yawn. “And look. The cops still haven’t left.”

  “No, they haven’t, and they’ll probably be a little while yet, but I can’t imagine it will be that much longer,” he noted. “Do you want to go to bed?”

  She shook her head. “I won’t sleep while they’re in the house.”

  “Maybe not, but I’ll be staying up anyway, and it doesn’t make sense that you should too.”

  “Why?” she asked. He hesitated, while she glared at him. “Don’t even think about hiding something from me.”

  “Okay, but you’ll just have to deal with the problem though.”

  “What problem is that?”

  “The gunman didn’t break into the house. The cops suspect he had a key. Or you left it unlocked.”

  She sat back and stared at him. “How the hell would he have a key to my house?”

  “It’s possible that he got a hold of your keys and had one made. It’s also possible he picked it. Who knows? There’s all kinds of ways to get in, clearly not necessarily lawful ways of course.”

  Her breath rushed out. as she assimilated this news. “That really sucks. I was just starting to think that maybe this would be over soon. Now you had to throw that one at me.”

  “I’m sorry. I wasn’t in a big hurry to tell you that. At least, if he had busted into the house, we would know he got in by force. Obviously that’s not an ideal scenario either, but it’s better than thinking that he had a key. So, I’ll be staying up tonight, and I’ve already got an emergency call in to get a locksmith out here. Depending on when he calls me back, we’ll know if he can come tonight or not.”

  “Right,” she muttered, her breath slowly returning to normal. “I can’t imagine how he got a copy of my key though.”

  “Did you lose your purse recently or anything like that?”

  She frowned. “I don’t remember losing my bag at all. I have misplaced it a time or two,” she admitted. “Like today, but, with all we have going on, I thought nothing of it. Besides, Sarah and I found it again.”

  “Where was it?”

  “Near the reception desk but back a ways on the floor.”

  Bauer nodded. “So does Sarah ever step away from the reception area?”

  Mags grimaced. “We are shorthanded. And, yes, she goes to get coffee or to make a bathroom run or to get a file off my desk to help with a caller or even to get paper for the fax machine or whatever. It happens. Plus today was surgery day, so I was tied to the back area. Sarah was keeping track of the front area. We were both doing the best we could in our solo duties.”

  “So, it’s plausible that, if the shooter was in there because of a pet or a fake question or whatever, he somehow distracted Sarah or just waited for her to leave her post. When he saw the purse, he must have checked it for keys and made an impression. If he had the clay on him, he would not even need to leave with them, could put the purse right back. Even without the clay, he could just scan the key image. Takes seconds. Put the purse right back where he found it. Or nearby at least. No one would be the wiser. Then he could have a duplicate made to match his impression or the scan.”

  “Plausible, yes, but that shows some preplanning. Why would he do that?”

  “I don’t know, but, depending on his background records, it could be that he just wasn’t capable of not taking advantage of an opportunity like that,” Bauer suggested. “Yet we don’t know that either.”

  “Jeez. I’ll have to ask Sarah about that.”

  “So, think back. Did you have any kind of problem with a client a few months ago, give or take?” She stared at him and shook her head slowly, then her head suddenly stopped.

  He nodded. “Now we’re getting somewhere.”

  “Oh my God,” she gasped. “It wouldn’t be him, would it?”

  “You tell me. You’ve seen and heard some people, and so far, you didn’t think any of them were the same guy you had here a few days ago.”

  “No,” she said, frowning, “at least I don’t think so, but honestly some of this is becoming a bit of a blur.”

  “So, the trouble a few months ago. What happened?”

  “His dog died. It had been shot, and he brought it in, saying it had bit him. The way I remember his story, the dog was aggressive, so he kept it in. But somehow it had gotten into the neighbors’ yard, and the neighbors had shot it, apparently afraid for their life. He brought the dog in, but I couldn’t save it,” she said, her hands out, palms up. “It was already too badly hurt, with all kinds of injuries. One bullet had damaged the lungs, and one eye was in ruins. But the owner, he got quite angry at me.”

  “What are the chances that he shot the dog himself?”

  “But then why bring him into me?” She frowned. “Although I’m not sure it was the dog’s owner who brought it in.”

  At that, Bauer nodded. “Bingo.”

  She looked at him in shock. “There’s no bingo to this at all,” she snapped. “I don’t get it.”

  “Yeah, probably not that guy from two months ago. No, but here, we have two friends, brothers, family, or something. The one kills, then the other one brings them in to save them, and you’ve got the same scenario again. One’s trying to save the dog you’ve got, while the other one’s trying to kill it. We just have to find out who the hell they are.”

  Not until the next morning did Bauer finally get some information in. With the name of the guy still in the hospital, Bauer finally had a way of begin to put names to the actors he had encountered so far. This guy in the hospital, Ken, had no siblings, no family, not as far as anybody could see. Badger was working on it, trying to get as much information as they could find. Meanwhile, Bauer had contacted the cops and had told them about his theory, but the cop had been pretty clear about Bauer staying out of it.

  No way. Bauer knew this gunman would come back after the War Dog. Whether they liked it or not, the gunman had a compulsion to kill Toby. Fair or not fair, the gunman had to be stopped before somebody else got hurt. After all that Bauer and Mags had gone through to try and save this War Dog, the last thing they wanted was for Toby to be killed now. Or ever.

  The War Dog had done nothing to hurt anybody, and, considering the pain he’d been in, he was really easygoing. At this point, Bauer wouldn’t put it past this gunman to have done something to make it jump or to fight back in order to have an excuse for killing it. Mags did say that Toby took a kick to the ribs. That would do it.

  Also Bauer had asked Mags to get Sarah to go through the clinic’s files and see if they could find the case of the dog that had been shot months earlier, supposedly by the neighbor. It was a wild guess, but that effort was ongoing, yet apparently not all that easy. Mags had records, of course, but, without a name to go on for either the patient or the human, Sarah had no way to search, other than manually. He’d asked Mags whether they’d contacted the cops at the time, and she just shook her head.

  “You only call the cops if something happens to a human, at least in my experience. I’m under no obligation to let them know when a dog has been shot. In this case, the owner was here supposedly, and there didn’t appear to be anything anybody could do about the dog.”