Trained To Protect. Linda O. Johnston

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Trained To Protect - Linda O. Johnston K-9 Ranch Rescue

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Elissa had exited her SUV but seemed to be taking her time getting Peace out of the back.

      Because she was concerned about the dog’s reaction?

      Because she wanted Doug to be there when she let the dog in?

      In any event, she didn’t open the door to the house but motioned for Doug to follow her to the lawn. “It’s been a long drive. I want to let Peace decide if she needs some outdoor time.”

      Which she did, and so did Hooper. When both dogs were finished, Doug said, “Okay, let’s go in.”

      “Of course.” But Elissa appeared anything but thrilled about the idea.

      Still, Peace’s leash in her hand, she returned to the garage and used a key to open the door into the house. Doug, with Hooper, followed—and immediately saw Peace’s strange reaction as they walked into the kitchen. The golden had seemed nice and gentle and reserved...before. Now she pulled ahead, yanking on her leash so hard that she nearly pulled Elissa behind her.

      Nose to the floor, she walked in circles, growling occasionally, looking as if she was tracking something down.

      Beside Doug, Hooper looked up at him as if waiting for his command—which he quickly gave.

      “Find,” he told his K-9. He released Hooper from his leash, determined to follow the dog no matter where he went in the house.

      At first, Hooper appeared to follow in Peace’s paw prints, but not for long. Soon he leaped out of the kitchen before the dog who lived there, nose still to the ground.

      Was he following a scent—the smell of some animal that had gotten inside?

      A human animal? One other than Elissa?

      One who didn’t belong and emitted a scent of fear?

      Doug glanced toward Elissa, who stood in the hall. Peace now appeared to be following Hooper. “What is he doing?” Elissa’s whisper was loud and sounded afraid.

      Doug had an urge to put an arm around her in comfort, but that wouldn’t solve anything—like figuring out what was happening.

      “He’s following a scent,” Doug answered. “That might be what disturbed Peace yesterday, although I can’t tell you what kind of scent it is—at least not yet.”

      “But...could it be—”

      “I don’t want to speculate.” But she looked so forlorn and frightened that he did approach Elissa and put an arm around her. “Let’s follow and see what he finds.”

      He was impressed by the nice furnishings in this old, beat-up home. Obviously, Elissa’s tastes were good, even if she hadn’t rented something a bit more modern.

      Maybe she couldn’t afford to.

      Maybe she’d hoped that working at the K-9 Ranch part-time might increase her income enough that she could eventually find something nicer.

      There was a lot about this woman that he didn’t know. Shouldn’t want to know. But he did.

      Together, they followed the dogs, who both seemed to go from room to room now—the living room, what appeared to be a guest bedroom, a single bathroom and then the master bedroom.

      Which was where Hooper bounded toward one of the windows that was covered by a closed shade.

      “Was this open yesterday?” Doug asked before touching it.

      “No, although I did look at it and the other windows in here after Peace acted so strangely, to make sure they weren’t open.”

      “Well, let’s check it out.” Doug removed gloves from his pocket and put them on to avoid messing up any prints if there actually was something wrong here, and pulled on the rope at the side to open the shade.

      Nothing. The window was closed, as Elissa had said.

      But that didn’t stop Hooper from jumping up and reacting, indicating to Doug that whatever the scent the two dogs had been chasing, this was most likely the place of origin, at least at first.

      “Hooper, sit.” When his dog obeyed, he added, “Good boy.”

      Since Peace was still beside him, he looked at Elissa, who took her dog’s leash and led her away.

      Which gave Doug the opportunity to look more closely at the window.

      And to find what he had somewhat anticipated on the lock at the top of the bottom piece of glass along the window frame.

      It appeared that some kind of tool had been inserted to unlock it, judging by the barely visible wearing away of the metal and glass.

      Carefully, Doug worked at the window and found it opened with almost no effort at all. Opened enough so that someone outside could have gotten in—and someone who’d managed to get inside could get out.

      “Bingo,” he said.

      Standing behind him, watching what he did, Elissa felt herself shudder in shock, though she realized it shouldn’t be a total surprise.

      Forcing herself into steadiness, she bent slightly to stroke and attempt to calm Peace, who also quivered, though possibly because she wanted to run and not just sit there. Elissa loved Peace, trusted her, and the dog’s actions yesterday had been a loud statement of something going on around here, though Elissa hadn’t known what. She still didn’t.

      Now another dog, trained for more appropriate ways to look into the situation, had confirmed that something was not right.

      “Can you tell from Hooper’s actions if someone actually came inside and what they did?” Elissa hated that her voice came out as a soft croak but she wasn’t surprised.

      She was stressed.

      She was scared.

      Doug turned and aimed an ironic half grin toward her. “Possibly. But rely on your own dog, too. I’d say whoever it was managed to walk around your entire house. Your Peace already told you that.”

      She nodded. “Yes,” she said, “she did. But why?”

      “I’d suggest you look around and see if any valuables are missing.”

      “What valuables?” This time she did manage an ironic smile of her own.

      “Okay, then, non-valuables. Whatever you own or keep here.”

      She had a sudden urge to explain herself to this man, this cop who had traveled a long distance to try to help her. For a variety of reasons, mostly involving how she had been brought up by her frugal family, she tried to save more of her nursing salary than she spent—though that didn’t always work. The extra income from her new part-time gig at the K-9 Ranch was bound to help a little.

      But mostly, she liked helping people and using therapy dogs was one of her favorite ways to do so.

      All she said now was, “I’m not really into bling, and I don’t keep cash around, so whoever was

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