Watchers Read Online Free PDF Page A

that.”
     
     
    The dog regarded him beseechingly.
     
     
    “You look hungry, boy.”
     
     
    It woofed once, softly.
     
     
    “Okay, maybe I can help you that much. I think there’s a Planters peanut bar in the glove compartment . . . and there’s a McDonald’s not far from here, where they’ve probably got a couple hamburgers with your name on them. But after that . . . well, I’ll either have to let you loose again or take you to the pound.”
     
     
    Even as Travis was speaking, the dog raised one foreleg and hit the glove-compartment release button with a paw. The lid fell open.
     
     
    “What the hell—”
     
     
    The dog leaned forward, put its snout into the open box, and withdrew the candy in its teeth, holding the bar so lightly that the wrapping was not punctured.
     
     
    Travis blinked in surprise.
     
     
    The retriever held forth the peanut bar, as if requesting that Travis unwrap the treat.
     
     
    Startled, he took the candy and peeled off the paper.
     
     
    The retriever watched, licking its lips.
     
     
    Breaking the bar into pieces, Travis paid out the treat in morsels. The dog took them gratefully and ate almost daintily.
     
     
    Travis watched in confusion, not certain if what had happened was truly extraordinary or had a reasonable explanation. Had the dog actually understood him when he had said there was candy in the glove box? Or had it detected the scent of peanuts? Surely the latter.
     
     
    To the dog, he said, “But how did you know to press the button to pop the lid open?”
     
     
    It stared, licked its chops, and accepted another bit of candy.
     
     
    He said, “Okay, okay, so maybe that’s a trick you’ve been taught. Though it’s not the sort of thing anyone would ordinarily train a dog to do, is it? Roll over, play dead, sing for your supper, even walk on your hind feet a little ways . . . yeah, those’re things that dogs are trained to do . . . but they’re not trained to open locks and latches.”
     
     
    The retriever gazed longingly at the last morsel, but Travis withheld the goody for a moment.
     
     
    The timing , for God’s sake, had been uncanny. Two seconds after Travis had referred to the peanut bar, the dog had gone for it.
     
     
    “Did you understand what I said?” Travis asked, feeling foolish for suspecting a dog of possessing language skills. Nevertheless, he repeated the question: “Did you? Did you understand?”
     
     
    Reluctantly, the retriever raised its gaze from the last of the candy. Their eyes met. Again Travis sensed that something uncanny was happening; he shivered not unpleasantly, as before.
     
     
    He hesitated, cleared his throat. “Uh . . . would it be all right with you if I had the last piece?”
     
     
    The dog turned its eyes to the two small squares of the Planters bar still in Travis’s hand. It chuffed once, as if with regret, then looked through the windshield.
     
     
    “I’ll be damned,” Travis said.
     
     
    The dog yawned.
     
     
    Being careful not to move his hand, not holding the candy out, not calling attention to the treat in any manner except with words, he addressed the big tattered dog again: “Well, maybe you need it more than I do, boy. If you want it, the last bit’s yours.”
     
     
    The retriever looked at him.
     
     
    Still not moving his hand, keeping it close to his own body in a way that implied he was withholding the candy, he said, “If you want it, take it. Otherwise, I’ll just throw it away.”
     
     
    The retriever shifted on the seat, leaned close to him, and gently snatched the treat off his palm.
     
     
    “I’ll be double-damned,” he said.
     
     
    The dog rose onto all fours, standing on the seat, which brought its head almost to the ceiling. It looked through the back window of the cab and growled softly.
     
     
    Travis glanced at the rearview mirror, then at the side-mounted mirror, but he saw nothing unusual behind them. Just the two-lane blacktop, the narrow