Suspect by Robert Crais Page A

walked back through the offices, and outside, where he found Leland on his way back.
    Leland said, “You and Quarlo ready to get to work?”
    “I want the German shepherd.”
    “You can’t have the shepherd. Perkins is gettin’ Spider.”
    “Not Spider. The one you’re shipping back. Maggie. Let me work with her. Give me two weeks.”
    “That dog’s no good.”
    “Give me two weeks to change your mind.”
    Leland scowled the Leland scowl, then grew thoughtful again and fingered his leash.
    “Okay. Two weeks. You got her.”
    Scott followed Leland back inside to get his new dog.

5.
    Dominick Leland
    A few minutes later, Leland resumed his position outside in the spare shade cast by the building, crossed his arms, and watched Scott James work with the dog. Mace stood with him for a while, but grew bored, and went inside to get on with his duties. Leland said little. He watched how the man and the dog related to each other.
    Inside, before they came out, Leland walked Scott back to the shepherd.
    “Take her out back, and introduce yourself. I’m gonna watch.”
    Leland walked away without another word, and waited outside. After a while, Officer James came around the far side of the building with the dog on his lead. The dog was on James’ left, which was the proper position, and did not try to range from him as they walked, but this proved nothing. The dog had been trained by the United States Marine Corps. Leland did not doubt the excellence of her training, which he had witnessed himself when he evaluated her.
    Officer James called over.
    “Anything in particular you want me to do?”
    Me. Not us. There was your problem, right there.
    Leland answered with a scowl. After a while James withered under Leland’s scowl, and went on with it. He made a few ninety-degree left and right turns, and trotted in left and right circles. The dog was always in perfect position except when they stopped. When they stopped, the dog lowered her head, tucked her tail, and hunched herself as if she was trying to hide. Officer James seemed not to notice this, even though he glanced at the dog often.
    When Leland was sure James was concentrating on the dog, he slipped a black starter pistol from his pocket, and pulled the trigger. The starter pistol fired a .22-caliber blank cartridge, and was used to test new dogs for their tolerance to loud, unexpected sounds. A dog that freaked out when a gun went off was of little use to the police.
    The sound cracked sharply across the training field, and caught both the dog and her handler by surprise.
    James and the dog lurched at the same time, but the dog tucked her tail, and tried to hide between James’ legs. When James looked over, Leland held up the starter pistol.
    “Stress reaction. Can’t have a police dog that shits out when a gun goes off.”
    James said nothing for several seconds. Leland was about to ask what in hell he was looking at when James stooped to touch the dog’s head.
    “No, sir, we can’t. We’ll work on it.”
    “Long strokes. Start at her neck and run your hand back to her tail. They like the long strokes. That’s the way her mama did it.”
    James stroked her, long and slow, but he glared at Leland instead of relating to the dog. This set Leland off into one of his tirades.
    “Talk to her, goddamnit. She ain’t a stick of furniture. She is one of God’s creatures, and she will hear you. I see these goddamned people walkin’ dogs, yakking on their phones, makes me wanna kick their sissy asses. What they got a dog for, they want to talk on their phones? That dog there will understand you, Officer James. She will understand what’s in your heart. Am I just shouting at the grass and dog shit out here, or are you reading what I am telling you?”
    “I’m reading you, Sergeant.”
    Leland watched him stroke the dog, and talk to her, and then he shouted again.
    “Obstacles.”
    The obstacle course was a series of jumping barriers and climbs. Leland had