The Midnight Dog of the Repo Man Read Online Free PDF Page B

him away and sputtering.
    â€œJake!” Montgomery shouted crossly. “Get down!”
    Jake cringed a little at the sharp call, his eyelids fluttering. I stood, brushing the grit off my pants. “So this whole time there’s been a dog in your trunk?” I demanded. Then something else occurred to me. “Wait, where were you going, just now? With the suitcases.”
    Montgomery was back to looking down the lake. “Detroit,” he finally replied. “At least until you showed up.”
    Detroit was something like four and a half hours away. “You were going to keep a dog in the trunk all the way to Detroit?” I demanded.
    Montgomery shrugged. “No law against it.”
    I looked down at Jake, who seemed to be intensely following the conversation. “So you put your bags in the backseat and your dog in the trunk,” I translated incredulously.
    â€œDamn dog drools on the leather,” Montgomery explained.
    I took a deep breath and then let it out. This was not, I decided, my fight. “Get your stuff,” I said.
    Two minutes later Montgomery had a handful of things from his glove box (no wrappers or rubber snakes, though) and I was carrying his two suitcases out onto the wooden dock to his boat. The water level was lower than usual, so Montgomery had to take a ladder down to his ski boat. I saw a woman’s bikini top lying on one of the white seats and a few empty beer bottles poking up out of the cup holders dimpling the sideboards. I handed him one of the suitcases and he stumbled a little under the weight.
    â€œCareful!” he snapped at me.
    I raised the other one over my head and threw it down. It landed on the boat deck with a crash. Montgomery’s eyes flashed hot.
    â€œYou want me to get your toy gun?” I asked him.
    He shook his head. “Maybe next time it won’t be a toy,” he suggested softly.
    â€œMaybe next time when I take it from you I’ll give you an anal probe with it,” I responded.
    Montgomery dropped his eyes from mine. “Jake!” he called.
    Jake went to the edge of the dock and looked down into the boat, whining in a small, distressed voice. His legs were too short to leap safely—it was nearly a six-foot drop.
    â€œJake!” Montgomery yelled crossly.
    â€œYou’re going to have to come get him,” I said.
    â€œJake! Dammit, get in the boat!”
    â€œHey!” I said loudly. “You’re not listening to me. He can’t make it. You’re going to have to come up here and get him.”
    With a noise of disgust, Montgomery scaled the ladder. At his approach, Jake backed away from the edge of the dock.
    And then I felt the little dog pressing up against my legs. It was a subtle thing, but he was behind me, leaning into my calves, and when I glanced down he gazed up at me with eyes that seemed to communicate all sorts of things I couldn’t read.
    â€œJake!” Montgomery snarled. He stomped over and reached for Jake’s collar and the dog cringed away. When Montgomery snagged the collar and yanked, dragging the little dog with him back to the ladder, Jake made that small distressed sound again and something in me broke.
    â€œMontgomery,” I said.
    My tone of voice halted him. He looked at me warily.
    â€œI hear you’re a pretty good swimmer.”
    His gaze turned puzzled. “Swimmer?” he repeated.
    I stepped up to him and he straightened, alarmed, letting loose of his dog. I grabbed him by his polo shirt and swung him away from his boat to the other side of the dock, where the water was clear and motionless until I threw him in it.
    Montgomery yelled something as he flew through the air, but I didn’t catch it. When he surfaced, coughing, he was articulating a little better.
    â€œWhat the hell!”
    â€œOops,” I told him.
    â€œThis water is freezing!”
    â€œWell, it is June,” I replied reasonably. “It’ll warm