Loose the Dogs

by P. D. Workman

Janice opened the newspaper and looked for what Frank had seen. Her eyes quickly found the dog article. ‘Dogs eat owner’s toes.’ Lovely. Just the thing Frank needed to read after another sleepless night haunted by the Johnsons’ dogs.

  She read through the article and read about the diabetic man whose cocker spaniels had eaten the dead, decaying flesh off of his rotting toes. She wasn’t so sure she wanted breakfast after reading it. It was not an image she wanted to consider. The poor man.

  But it was nothing to do with the Johnson dogs. At least Frank hadn’t suggested that it did. Maybe that was progress.

  It was pure sensationalism. Nobody wanted to read about dogs eating their living owner’s toes, but everyone who saw the article would read it, horrified, wanting to understand what had happened.

  The shower started upstairs and Janice closed the paper.

  “Frank, have a seat,” Captain Errol invited.

  Frank sat down slowly. The captain didn’t invite an officer to sit down unless something was very wrong. Updates and orders were given standing up, on the run, in and out. Sitting down meant a real conversation, deep background, maybe a reprimand or disciplinary action. Frank shifted uncomfortably, his stomach tight and his heart thumping quickly.

  “How are you feeling, Frank?” the captain asked kindly.

  “I’m fine sir.”

  “I’ve been thinking about the Johnson case. I know you took some mandatory counseling after the case, but I’m wondering how it is affecting you. Cases like that… nasty business. Lots of opportunity for ongoing mental distress, even PTSD…”

  “No, really, it’s okay,” Frank said quickly.

  “Your wife says you’re still having problems sleeping. She says you’re a bit obsessive about the case.”

  Frank stared at him. “You’ve been talking to Janice?”

  “I needed to get another viewpoint on how you are doing.”

  “Another viewpoint? That’s an invasion of my privacy!”

  “It wasn’t an official inquiry, Frank. It’s not written down anywhere. Just a friendly call to the wife of one of my officers to see how he’s doing.”

  “My work has been satisfactory,” Frank said bullishly.

  “I don’t think your work has suffered. I hope not. But there are some warning signs you may be a bit off your game. I want us to look at this together and to decide if we need to take some further action. Unless you want to just volunteer for more counseling.”

  “I don’t need it,” Frank protested. “Everything is fine.”

  “How is your sleep?”

  “I’ve never slept well. I still have some nightmares about the dogs. I’m not hiding that. I’m working through it. It doesn’t affect my work.”

  “Unless you’re coming to work tired. If you feel foggy or sleepy when you’re on duty…”

  “I don’t. I feel just fine.”

  “Good. Are you having trouble moving on? Are you having trouble leaving it alone? The case is finished, you know. But maybe you need to talk about it some more; get things off your chest. You can’t truly leave something alone until you’ve finished dealing with it. Do you feel like you still need to talk about the case?”

  “Well, yes…” Frank was hesitant. Mostly everyone told him to be quiet about it. He did need to talk about it. But not to get closure. Because he didn’t feel like it was over. He was still worried about those dogs. About where they were and what they were doing. But maybe he could talk to the captain about it under guise of ‘getting closure’ and put a bug in his ear. Make him understand it wasn’t over. “I would like to talk about it with you, if you don’t mind.”

  “Well,” the captain started to backpedal a little, “I meant if you wanted to talk to a counselor about it. I don’t know if I…”

  “But if I could… I think you would understand my concerns about it better than a counselor would.”

  The captain looked at his watch. “Well, I guess I have a few minutes…”

  “Good.” Frank immediately launched into it before the captain could think of any excuses or distractions. “I’m worried about the dogs being adopted. I heard a story on the news the other day about a newly-adopted dog killing a baby. I’m worried they released those dogs to the public when they are still a danger. I want to know where the dogs went and to be sure they aren’t going to hurt anyone else.”

  “Well, that’s really not our place.”

  “I know, but it would help me…”

  “We can’t interfere in these things, Frank. The case is closed.”

  “Don’t you think it is important to know what they did with those dogs? What if they are dangerous? What if they are vicious?”

  “The experts said they weren’t. You’re worrying about things that aren’t going to happen. Things outside our purview.”

  “I know. But I need to know. I can’t let it go without knowing everything is okay. I lay awake nights worrying…” He pressed the mental health envelope, forcing Captain Errol to acknowledge his needs.

  “You don’t need to worry about what is happening with those dogs.”

  “How can you know for sure?” Frank persisted.

  “I know. They’ve been taken care of.”

  “But Captain… you didn’t see those dogs. You don’t know what was in their eyes. You had to see them to know. They were not just eating because that was the only food there. They were vicious. They were mean. Crazed. I know; I saw them. Those ‘experts’—they didn’t see them at the scene. They didn’t see them where it happened.”

  “You need to let it go, Frank. You can’t keep bothering people with this.”

  “Bothering people?” Frank echoed, taken aback.

  The captain leaned back in his seat arranging his hands thoughtfully.

  “I’ve been getting complaints,” he revealed, “about inquiries you’ve been making.”

  “Complaints from who?”

  “You’ve been talking to the SPCA. You’ve been demanding information, saying the investigation is still open.”

  “I did…” Frank admitted. “I just want to know where the dogs went. I just want to follow up to make sure they are okay, not a danger to their new owners. You saw it on the news, didn’t you? About the dog that attacked and killed a baby down south? It was a transfer adoption from outside the state. It came from a retired couple who had died. It’s just… it could be one of the Johnson dogs. If they were transferred out of state. If they were all local, then I know I don’t have to worry. But if they were sent out of state… I saw the picture of the dog. It looked like one of the dogs that belonged to the Johnsons.”

  “And like a hundred other dogs across the country.”

  “I know, that’s what Janice said.”

  “Janice is right. You are seeing connections where there aren’t any. There is no great dog conspiracy. There is no cover up. We just need to let it go. The case is closed. They determined the dogs to be safe and they were released for adoption. That’s none of our business. The only thing that was our business was discovering and securing the scene and investigating the manner of death. What they do with the dogs is not a police matter. We have no control over it.”

  “No control, I know. But that doesn’t mean we can’t investigate if something looks wrong. That’s what we do.”

  Captain Errol fiddled with a pen on his desk. “I can see where you’re coming from, Frank. I’ll see if I can find anything out, but you have to promise me you won’t do any more investigating on your own. You can’t keep going back to the SPCA and asking for more information. Okay?”

  Frank sighed.

  “They’re not going to give me any more information anyway.”

  “Okay. Then we have a deal. You let me check into this, and you try to move past it. And I would like you to attend some group therapy for trauma. See if you can resolve things a little bit better for yourself. Maybe see a doctor and get something to help yourself sleep. Okay?”

  Frank nodded reluctantly. “I
’ll do what I can,” he agreed.

  “Good. I want you to be well, Frank. You’re a good cop. I can’t have you being distracted, or foggy, or anything else while you are out there. You’re a good cop, and I want it to stay that way.”

  Chapter Ten

  ON THE WEEKEND, THEY were allowed to take their trainees home for the weekend. They were to take them out in the community to expose them to lots of different people, and to watch for any negative reactions. Any aggression, any fear, startling at loud sounds, or distractibility.

  Christine was happy to take Bandit home. She loved the time they spent together during training and she was looking forward to having him for the whole weekend. She put the leash on him as she took him out of the kennel.

  “Hey, there, Bandit! You want to go out? You want to go home?”

  He nosed at her hand, and Christine scratched his ear.

  “Yeah, love you too, Bandit.”

  She walked him to her car and opened the door for him. Bandit jumped up into the passenger seat and made himself at home. Christine drove home and took him inside. She showed him to his dishes and took him outside, then brought him back inside to play.

  He chewed on a knotted rope and Christine tugged on the end of it.

  “Is that your rope? What if I want it?” she teased, pulling on it, and moving her end back and forth. “What if I want to play with the rope?”

  He growled playfully, pulling back on the rope, showing his teeth. Christine laughed and continued to pull the rope back and forth.

  “You like that, huh? Attack the rope! Grab it! Show it who’s boss!” she encouraged.

  He continued to worry the rope, greatly enjoying the game.

  “I think getting a dog is a great idea,” Janice told Elsie on the phone, glancing over at Frank. “I worry about you living all by yourself. A dog is good protection. And good company too.”

  “I’m really excited about finding just the right one,” Elsie gushed. “You know how I’ve always loved dogs.”

  They had owned dogs when Elsie had been growing up. They had been good companions for her. And for Janice when Frank had worked nights and she was on her own. Frank had never approved of dogs in the bed, but Janice felt more secure with a warm body there to take Frank’s place. Now she slept alone, while Frank fought his demons and walked the house.

  “That sounds great,” Frank contributed, speaking on the extension. “I think it will be good for you.”

  “I can’t wait! We’re going to have such fun.”

  “I have to run,” Frank said. “I’ll catch you later, okay sweetie?”

  “Thanks. Love you, Dad.”

  “You too.”

  The phone clattered when he hung up. Janice spent another half hour on the phone with their daughter and then went to find Frank.

  He was sitting with his elbows on the train table, his face in his hands. But when he heard her coming, he quickly put his hands down to pick up his neglected tools and look busy.

  “Are you okay?” Janice asked.

  “Sure. Just had a couple of things to take care of, and I thought I would give you girls a chance to chat.”

  She watched his hands shake as he lifted the tiny tools to work. His hands had always been so steady.

  “It’s good she’s going to get a dog,” Janice said.

  “Of course.” He laid down the tools and looked at her. His face was an unreadable mask. He was so pale lately. “She’s always liked dogs.”

  “It’s great you’re being supportive of her. But maybe you should talk about your real feelings.”

  “My real feelings are illogical and overblown. They’ve got nothing to do with her.” He shook his head. “I don’t see how talking about it makes anything better. I’m happier when I can just put it behind me. Forget about it.”

  He picked up his tools again but dropped the screwdriver clumsily and it went spinning across the table, knocking down several innocent bystanders in the process. He swore.

  “I wish you would get some help,” Janice said. “I really think you could use it.”

  Captain Errol stopped by Frank’s desk as he filled out his end-of-shift reports. “I did some inquiring for you,” he said casually.

  Frank looked at him. “Yes?”

  “With the Animal Shelter.”

  Frank felt a pain in his chest. He swallowed and took a deep breath. “What did you find out?”

  “None of the dogs were adopted locally. They were all sent out of state.”

  “Where to?”

  “I don’t know any more details. Just that they went out of state.”

  “So the dog attack, the baby that was killed, it could have been one of them.”

  “But that’s not very likely, is it?” the captain asked. “You can’t assume it was.”

  “Don’t you think we should investigate further?”

  “It’s not our case. Not even our jurisdiction.”

  “But…”

  “The Johnson case is closed. That was our only case. So we can’t pursue it any further. I was only making quiet inquiries behind the scenes. It isn’t anything official. Just a courtesy.”

  “Can’t you at least ask them what states they went to? Where that one dog went?”

  “I would be overstepping my bounds. I’m not comfortable with it.”

  Frank bowed his head and picked up his pen again as if he was intent on writing out his reports.

  “Okay. I understand.”

  Errol stood there for a moment longer; then moved on again without a word.

  Frank rested his forehead on his palm, closing his eyes and shaking his head.

  How could no one else want the answers? Why was Frank the only one who was worried about the dogs? The only one who cared what had happened to them and whether they were dangerous?

  Frank appeared at the SPCA in plain clothes. He didn’t introduce himself as a policeman. He tried to act normal, like he was just interested in adopting a dog.

  “I was friends with the Johnsons,” he explained. “I know their dogs have all been adopted out already… the receptionist told me. But I was wondering about one of them. A retriever. I wondered what happened to it… it was a little skittish, and I was worried it might have gone to a family with children. Do you know? Where did it go?”

  “I thought you were interested in adopting a dog?” the man challenged.

  “I’d love to have that dog… I would go out of state to collect it… I don’t have any kids at home, and my friend, he’s a dog trainer, he could help me to settle it down, to make sure it was safe.”

  “All of the dogs were safe. We had them evaluated.”

  “I was just worried about this one dog… I heard it went to Louisiana. Is that where it went?”

  The man looked at him, frowning. “I’m not comfortable with this conversation. Why do you care where this dog went? We have plenty of dogs here if you want to adopt one. Good dogs. That dog is no longer available.”

  “It was Louisiana, then, was it?”

  The man shook his head. “That information is not available. Dog placements are confidential. Are you interested in one of our other dogs?”

  “I’m not asking what family it went to. I just wondered if it went to Louisiana.”

  “I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

  Frank shrugged. He left, shaking his head. It was going to take some more work. He couldn’t believe everybody was so concerned about keeping this a secret.

  Why did they want to protect the dogs?

  This was about people, not dogs. This was about people’s lives.

  Two lives had been lost already. Now a third? He had to know, and he couldn’t understand why everyone was so resistant.

  He got back in his car, pondering what to do.

  The private detective nodded as she listened to Frank’s instructions.

  “That’s fine,” she said. “Shouldn’t be any problem. The only issue is time. How long it will take me to get in
, be trusted, and figure out how to access the records. Of course, it may be I won’t even need to see the records. I may just be able to pick up details through office gossip.”

  Frank nodded. “That would be good. That would be quick. We need to find out as soon as we can.”

  “Like I said, it is just a matter of time. I’ll find out as quickly as I can, but it is not going to just be in and out in a few hours. Not likely.”

  “I just need to know. I have to find out where that dog went. Where they all went. But that one is the first. If those dogs are killing… we have to protect people. We have to find out.”

  Anya nodded. “I understand. I’ll do my best.”

  “Thank you. I can’t get in there myself, obviously. I don’t understand why everyone is being so stubborn about it.”

  “I think you’re the one being stubborn,” she countered. At his look, she smiled. “Not saying it’s a bad thing. When you believe a thing, you have to stand up for yourself and be bullheaded enough to get it done. That’s what you’re doing. You believe in something. You’re doing what you think is right. I admire that.” She pushed her hair back over her ear. “But you are stubborn.”

  Frank smiled. “I guess I am,” he agreed.

  Bandit made it through his training. Not with flying colors, but with good reports and what seemed to be a good, solid foundation. He had performed well in classes and seemed to be well socialized out in public. He had passed the various tests he had been put through over the past few weeks to make sure he would attack or break on command; he would not hurt children, and he was able to remain focused on his duty and not be distracted. He would not respond to commands by a stranger to stop, get down, or break. Christine was proud of his progress and was sorry to have to let him go. But it was time for him to graduate to his new police partner, as a full-fledged police dog.

  Carmichael was introduced to Bandit, his new partner. He had not had a canine partner before, but he had trained with another dog and was familiar with the procedures. He held out his hand for Bandit to smell and was given the leash. Bandit fell in beside him as if they’d been patrolling together for years.

  “Well, Bandit,” Carmichael spoke to the dog in his car as they patrolled the streets, watching for any sign of trouble and taking occasional disturbance calls. “How do you like your life as a cop so far?”