Wharton laughed. “Hell, I might ask you for help getting around the city. I didn’t move here until I was about twenty-five. Okay, have a good night. I’ll see you in the morning.”
Before he could leave, they heard a loud bark. Matt spun around just in time to see some kind of little terrier mutt running toward them.
“Hey!” Meg said, crouching down to pet the little dog. “What are you doing here, all by yourself in the middle of the city? Did you hop out of a car?”
“I’ll be damned!” Wharton swore. “That’s the dog—that’s Genie Gonzales’s dog! They brought it from the house to animal rescue. I don’t know how it wound up here.”
“You sure that’s the same dog?” Matt asked him.
“Positive. We had him at the lab first. We combed him out, looking for trace evidence. We didn’t think the killer had been in her apartment, but we try to get backup on everything. I know he was taken to animal rescue. I talked to them afterward. We were still investigating her past, trying to see if there was someone who’d take him,” Wharton said.
Meg scooped up the little creature. It was trembling in her arms. Matt couldn’t tell what kind of mix it was. The face was terrier. A poof of fur over the eyes suggested Cairn, Skye or even a Yorkie. The legs were too long for any of those breeds. The dog appeared to be a mix of many breeds that shouldn’t have been mixing.
“Poor thing,” Meg murmured.
“I’ll take him. You all don’t need to worry,” Wharton said.
Meg’s arms seemed to tighten around the creature.
“I don’t know how the hell he got here,” Wharton said again. He shrugged. “I like dogs and I just...well, I’d hoped they were going to give him some more time before putting him down.” He shrugged. “Genie got him from the shelter. Poor guy.”
“Put him down? Why?” Meg demanded. “He didn’t hurt anybody! He’s remarkable! He followed his mistress here!”
Wharton’s expression was awkward—and wistful. “He must’ve gotten out of an animal control cage somehow. Bright little guy. And found his way here! And I just meant that, you know, if dogs aren’t adopted in a certain period of time, well...there’s no choice.”
“Meg,” Matt said, “sad to say, animals sometimes have to be put down.”
“Yeah, but half the time it’s the jackasses who fight them or raise them to kill who should be put down. This guy didn’t hurt or kill anyone!” Meg said indignantly.
“Well, no,” Wharton agreed. “But here, hand him over. I’ll take him back to the shelter.”
“I’ll hang on to him,” Meg said.
“He can’t go on a road trip, Meg,” Matt said, staring at her incredulously.
Just when he was beginning to think this was going to be okay.
“No, he can’t. But I’m seeing a friend in the morning. If the police are done with him and the FBI doesn’t have an interest, which I don’t think we do, I’ll see that he has a home,” she said determinedly.
“What if he is needed again?” Matt asked. He liked dogs, but they were on an investigation! And never mind that this one happened to be ugly as sin.
“Then I’ll know exactly where he is and go get him again.”
“All right, well... I don’t see anything wrong with the idea,” Wharton said. “We pick up more strays in the city—if you want more dogs.”
“I think we’re good for now,” Matt remarked drily.
“’Night, then,” Wharton said. “See you tomorrow.”
“Wait, do you know his name?” Meg asked.
Wharton smiled ironically. “Killer. That’s the name on the tag he had.”
“Killer. Great,” Matt couldn’t help muttering.
Wharton left them, and for a moment, Matt stared at Meg again, still incredulous, and she stared back at him defiantly.
“What? There’s a rule about a dog in a company car? If there is, I know how to call a taxi.”
“There’s no rule against dogs in the car,” he said. “As to the hotel or a restaurant, I’m not sure.”
“Many hotels are dog-friendly these days,” she assured him. “If ours isn’t, I can use my own money and check in somewhere that is. Or I’ll call Nancy Cooper—that’s Lara’s aunt—and see if I can bunk with her for the night.”
Matt lowered his head. The medium-priced hotels his units used on the road did take animals. He’d seen them with their owners in the lobby. “Let’s go,” he said, trying not to sound irritated.
He failed.
She ignored him and headed for the car.
His phone rang when he got in. It was Jackson, calling to let him know that Will Chan and Kat Sokolov would be down in the morning for the task force meeting in Richmond. The dog, curled on Meg’s lap, looked up and gave a little bark.
“What’s that?” Jackson asked him.
“That’s just Killer,” he said.
“What?”
“The victim’s dog. Meg’s decided to get him a new home. Or maybe give him a home.”
“Ah. Nice,” Jackson said.
That was because Jackson wasn’t sitting in the car with the yappy mutt.