Authors: Elizabeth Preston
My husband was going to die from steroid abuse
before
he snapped. Our marriage was going to end badly, that was for sure, but badly for him. At least that’s what I hoped.
Dom walked over and took both of my hands in his. He turned them around, studying my palms, rubbing the pads of my hands with his thumbs. “Winter, you scare me. If you really think Bruno killed your sister, if you have evidence of some kind, then we need to go to the police right now.”
I snatched my hands away. “There’s no new evidence. You know that. I’m on my own here.”
He pulled me into him, grabbed me in another of his bear hugs. “You are not alone,” he murmured. “From now on, you have me, no matter what.”
“You mean that?” I mumbled, my mouth finding his neck. He took a step backwards, forcing me to stare into his eyes.
“Whatever it takes.”
By the way, dear diary, after he left, I stayed outside and watched the sun leave too. I didn’t want to go inside because there was too much of Bruno in there. So instead I hiked around our paddocks and climbed up to the old sheep dip and kept going till my legs were weary. But I was still too full of longing, too overflowing with hormones to head in. So I set off again, deciding I’d collect wild flowers, then mushrooms and then anything and everything until the sun was truly gone.
At least, with fistfuls of mushrooms and daisies, and with my blood cooled a little, I turned to head in. And that was when something caught my eye. There was something in the next field winking at me, catching the low sun and reflecting it back my way. A bright yellow arc of light caught me straight in the eye, making me wince. It was the excuse I needed so instead of heading for the house, I went in search of the mirror or the metal or glass thing or whatever it was that was catching and reflecting the sun. Perhaps I’d dropped a piece of my jewellery in the grass. It might be valuable.
I scrambled for a bit more, looking around but it was no good, couldn’t find the wretched thing. I almost gave up but at the last moment, the arc caught me again showing me the way.
I’m not sure what I found. It looks like a small glass dome. Not a doll’s eye, more like a metal bulb. It was wedged between the rocks on the lower wall. Weird find, I know. I’ve kept it hidden under the bed. I’ll show Dom next time he’s over. He’ll know what it is. He knows everything.
Chapter 15
Bruno
I’ve been meaning to come here for ages, just never got around to it before. Today, the timing was right. These are the dog kennels everyone’s talking about.
On Guard
,
that’s what they call themselves. I hear that this place is the real deal but friggin’ hell, it’s a long way out.
I’ll admit it. At soon as I rocked up, I was impressed with the pictures on the wall. Who’d mess with beasts like that?
I moseyed on up to reception.
“Hi, can I help you?” she asked, bobbing up from behind the counter, a small crap-dog in her arms.
“Bloody hope so. Hate to think I’ve come all this way for nothing.” I gave the yappy Pekinese a filthy look. That thing had no business being in a serious kennel like this.
The shop girl went quiet, not used to dealing with important people, obviously. “Time’s money babe! Chop, chop. Let’s see some
real
dogs.”
“We’ve got German shepherd pups ready to go, adorable they are. Everyone loves them. They’re five months old and they’ve just finished obedience training. Would you like to see the litter?”
I drummed my fingers on the counter, letting her see my irritation. “Do I look like someone who has time to waste on a puppy? I want protection and I want it now. You’d better get me the manager. Where is he? Ant, that’s his name, right?”
She pressed a button behind the counter and then whispered into her phone, “He’ll be right along. Take a seat.”
I waited in their cushioned reception area. The table was littered with manuals and brochures to flick through, but I’m too busy for that crap. If someone wants to sell to me, then they do it to my face or not at all. I sat and waited. Where the hell was he? Ant must have been screwing one of his cleaning girls because he kept me waiting for a full fifteen minutes. Why would you keep a customer waiting that long? That’s no way to run a business. I wasn’t in the best of moods by time Ant arrived, that’s for sure.
He snivelled his way forward and thrust out his hand. He was short and weedy and even though he was way younger than me, his shape was horrible. He needed my products more than I needed his, no doubt there.
“You asked to see me personally?” he said.
“Yeah, fifteen minutes back I did. Business must be booming if that’s how you treat your best customers.”
He pulled back. Anyone would think I’d just popped him one on the jaw. “If you’re in such a hurry,” he responded in a wimpy voice, “then you should have made an appointment.”
He led me out of reception, through the double doors, right away from the other customers, which was smart of him considering. He bolted outside, past the cluster of buildings, straight over the rolling grass towards the wire kennels on the hill.
“This is the boon-docks, man,” I said, puffing to keep up with him. “You’re lucky you get any customers at all, making them work this hard. It’s like you don’t want a sale. You need to work on that.”
He scowled. I’d pissed him off but that’s alright, because he’s pissed me off too and
I’m
the one with the money.
“We have so many customers, we can barely meet demand.”
“Yeah, right!” As if I’d fall for that one.
We walked for a long way in silence, him way ahead of me. I don’t run to keep up for anyone.
When we got to the rise in the hill, he stopped and waited for me, or should I say, waited for my wallet to catch him up.
“What sort of dog are you looking for anyway?”
“A bloody good one. If I wanted a run-of-the-mill mutt, I’d have gone to doggie-rescue.”
He took a deep breath, like
I
was being difficult. Friggin’ hell, these country types!
“What sort of dog are you after?” he asked again but this time, he didn’t wait for an answer. He was in a rush to get his snarky comment in first. “I must warn you, I only let my dogs go to reputable caring owners.”
“I’m not looking to adopt a kid for Christmas. I want a dog. For protection. That’s what you do here, right?”
He went quiet again, like he had to think about that. In the end, he couldn’t argue because of course that was precisely what he did, he sold dogs for protection.
“The kennels are this way.” I followed him on, falling behind once more, not interested in making idle girlie chatter. He stopped outside a row of wire runs. Each kennel housed one large barking shepherd.
“Don’t be alarmed,” he said. “That’s natural behaviour. They’re simply guarding the place.”
Alarmed?
It would take a darn sight more than a barking dog to alarm me. But I held my tongue because I did like the solid look of the brutes. Their teeth were impressive, too. But, those dogs didn’t hold my interest for long because they calmed down too quickly, and that’s never a good sign.
“What about him?” Ant pointed to a tank of a thing with a furry mane like a lion. He was sitting, almost smiling up at me. I reckon I could have reached into his cage and patted him.
“I call him Prince but of course you could name him whatever you liked. He’s eighteen months old, not de-sexed and should be left intact if you want him for protection. He’s a good boy, very obedient. He’s got huge potential.”
I scowled.
Potential for what
? “He looks pretty enough to put on a calendar.”
Ant nodded as if I’d just paid him a compliment. “That’s true. Prince has a lovely nature. He’ll behave himself around kids too.”
This guy was beginning to seriously piss me off. “No kids,” I snapped.
“Wife then?” He looked dubious when he asked that, like it was a silly suggestion, like I’d be incapable of holding down a wife.
I decided to let the slur go, because I could hear growls, deep and threatening, coming from over the hill. “What else you got? I’m after a
fully grown
dog.” I headed off in that direction.
“Hey, where are you going?” he cried, catching me up.
I pointed towards the noise. “Now that’s the sound I’m after.”
The closer we got, the more the dogs snapped and snarled, like Ant and I were two plump rabbits bouncing our way towards the kennels, just begging to be eaten.
“Yeah, these are my Rotties. Those dogs are heavy-duty. The cheapest one is ten grand.”
I moved closer, but not too close. There was no need to go right up to the wire. I could see well enough from where I stood. I was staring down a nasty mother of a Rottweiler in the kennel ahead and best of all she was foaming from the mouth.
Ant followed my eyes. “She’s just had a workout. That’s all. When a dog works hard on protection training, it’ll foam and sometimes even bleed from the mouth.”
I liked the look of her. She was one mean bitch.
“She’s only eighteen months old, too, just like the shepherds. I thought you wanted an older dog?”
“Fully trained, is she?” If he knew what was good for him, he’d quit that second-guessing. I don’t know why he challenged everything I said. I reckon he has short person syndrome. He was slow to answer.
“She’s obedience trained and bait trained, too. That means she’ll only eat out of her own bowl. She won’t accept any food from strangers. No chance of poison-baiting her.”
I nodded and didn’t hide the fact that I was interested.
“She’s housebroken and car trained. She’ll jump out of a car window and attack, if she needs to. She’s also fully attack and weapons trained as well.”
“She’s a beauty.” Jet black, my favourite colour. I like a girl that’s willing to kill. “You got no Dobermans in stock at the moment?”
“Ahh,” he said, rubbing his chin. “For you, I advise against Dobermans. You don’t need to go that far.”
I raised my eyebrows. How the bloody hell did
he
know that? What’s he implying?
“You got any or not?”
He looked straight at me, like he couldn’t remember if he had any Dobermans, or couldn’t decide.
So to help him along, I said, “You’re not the only trainer around these parts, you know. There’s someone else, not too far from here. I happen to know that he breeds Dobermans. Good ones too, so I’m told.”
Ant nodded and walked on. I followed him, all the way to the southern end of his property. Ant was your typical pint-sized bloke with a small body and a big grudge. “You need golf carts, Ant. This place is way too spread out.”
He darted forward like he wanted to get away. The fool, he should have been sucking up to me. The guy had zero business smarts. He could do with a lesson or two in customer service. “Seriously, man, it’s a wonder you sell anything at all.”
He picked up the pace and galloped across the paddock even faster. Okay, he didn’t like what I said, but he may as well hear the truth from me. Better to give it to him straight. If he wants to improve his business, then he should be listening to what his customers have to say. Christ, I’d sell nothing if I made my weightlifters fight this hard for a hit. If I carried on like him, my guys would buy their juice from someone else.
At last, the kennels with the Dobermans came in sight, and even from where we stood, I could see that each of those dogs were wearing a muzzle. I stopped beside a kennel housing a demon of a thing. Of course I didn’t stand too close. I couldn’t keep the smile from my face.
“He’s a beautiful boy,” Ant said as I inched closer, and it sounded like he meant it. “These boys are muzzled because they need to get used to the feel. They’re going to be shown soon. They can’t be out in public without a muzzle. When I put them through their paces at the showground, they’ll need to be muzzled and leashed.”
“Wow, he’s something, isn’t he?” I said, gesturing at the evil son of a bitch in front of us. I had to give Ant that. He bred villainous dogs.
Ant dithered, biting his thumbnail. His reluctance was more than obvious. “I can’t let that one go. He mustn’t go to a family.”
“Who’s got a family?”
“No wife then?”
“Let me worry about her.”
He rubbed his jaw. “All the same, these dogs are trained for military use and occasionally for the police too. They’re not for private individuals. This one is strictly military. He’s a man-stopper. That means he’s trained to hold a man down and to inflict serious damage. Quite honestly, if not handled correctly, all of these guys are killers.”
“Enough of the sales talk. How much?”
He shook his head again. “It’s like I said, these boys are for the military. The only private people I let buy my Dobermans are VIPs and I’m talking seriously important people here: diplomats, presidents, that sort of thing. Not Mr Average.”
I wanted to slit his throat. Who the hell did he think
I
was!
“How much?” I was so riled, I
wanted
to pay big. I wanted to show him.
“You couldn’t afford one of these beauties. This one’s $25,000.”
“I’ll take two.”
We wandered back. He was different after the deal was done. Money talks. I paid up-front with cash and organised for him to deliver the dogs with kennels to my place. And, because I’m smart, I booked myself in for training sessions too. I gotta know how to handle these bad boys.
Once I was outside the front of his place again, I relieved myself against his big advertising sign, pissing all over the words,
Owner: Ant Charles
.
I got a surprise for you, honey. Your Halloween present has come early.