Critical Pursuit by Janice Cantore Read Free Book Online Page A

Hero as he sniffed around a vacant lot. “We haven’t done that in a while. I need to talk to him.”
    Hero responded with a wagging tail.
    Milo’s home wasn’t exactly on the way to Long Beach, but Brinna had plenty of time for the detour. Still pumped with adrenaline after the successful search, she felt like she could drive to the moon and back.
    It was a couple of hours before she reached Highway 138, which cut across the Mojave Desert through Palmdale, very near where she’d been found by Milo twenty years previous. The highway connected with the 14 freeway, which took Brinna to Santa Clarita, where Milo lived.
    I haven’t been out to his house in a while, she thought. In truth, Milo had been distant since his retirement. He’d hung up his badge and gun about the same time Brinna had been partnered with Hero. Brinna got the feeling Milo had a difficult time saying good-bye after his thirty-two years on the job. In the two years since his retirement party, she’d only been out to see him twice, each time on his birthday. His calls were few and far between, and Brinna detected boredom and frustration in his tone when they did speak.
    If he had a good fishing trip, his spirits should be high, she decided as she took the off-ramp toward his house. At eight thirty the summer sun had set, and Brinna smiled, happy to see lights on as she approached Milo’s small tract home. She parked in front and made a lot of noise as she let Hero out of the truck, wanting to give Milo a heads-up.
    Hero bounded up to the front door, sniffing and wagging his tail. Milo’s last service dog, a shepherd named Baxter, and Hero were great friends. When Brinna reached the porch and rang the doorbell, the absence of Baxter’s bark struck her as strange. The TV was on, so she knew Milo was home, yet sheand Hero stood on the porch for a good five minutes with no response.
    Brinna punched the bell again, hearing the tones echo inside the house. “Milo, it’s Brinna. You there?” she called out, briefly wondering if she should have called first. Maybe he wasn’t home.
    About to give up, Brinna knocked a couple of times, then stepped off the porch. The dog kept sniffing the bottom of the door.
    “Hero, come,” she ordered. He turned and jumped off the porch just as Milo opened the door.
    “Hey, you are home.” She stood with her hands on her hips. “I almost gave up and decided this surprise visit was a mistake.”
    “I was in the back of the house. Got home day before yesterday.” He covered his mouth and coughed a rib-shattering smoker’s cough.
    Brinna clenched her teeth, hoping to hide the surprise on her face as she took in Milo’s appearance. The ex-Marine, ex-cop used to be meticulous about his dress and personal grooming standards. She noted his normally neat flattop needed a trim as badly as his jaw needed a shave. As he waved her into the house, she didn’t miss the bloodshot eyes, the soiled T-shirt, and the odor of cigarette smoke mixed with unwashed body.
    “You catch a cold in Mexico?” Brinna asked as she took a seat on his couch.
    “I caught something,” he wheezed, coughing again before sitting in his recliner and chugging from a bottle of beer.
    “Where’s Baxter?”
    Milo put the bottle down and picked up a smoldering cigarette. “Dead.” He took a puff.
    “What?” Brinna jerked forward in her seat.
    “It happened just before I left for Mexico. Took him to the vet to check out a limp. Doc said he had bone cancer. I had to put him down.”
    “I’m so sorry. Why didn’t you call me, let me know?”
    Milo shrugged. “Wasn’t anything you could do. Doc couldn’t help him, and I didn’t want the dog to suffer. He was hurting bad the day I took him in. Doc said he could live on pain pills for a while, but I couldn’t dope the guy up, have him live his last days in a stupor. I had too much respect for him.” He emptied the bottle of beer.
    “Wow. That must have been hard.” She absentmindedly