Chapter Five
Cruz hesitated at the door to his cabin, now guest quarters. Atlas hadn’t sounded any kind of alarm at his approach, but then the dog knew his step. If there was a window open somewhere, the dog might have caught his scent, too. Also familiar. It would’ve been confirmation: someone who belonged was on his way and not a stranger.
He shouldn’t be disappointed Atlas hadn’t given a warning bark on the approach of a known human.
But Atlas was waking up from the pining he’d been doing. Engaging with the world and people again. Maybe it was unfair to expect leaving him with Lyn Jones for an hour or two would trigger a full transformation in the dog, but Cruz had kinda hoped it’d be that easy—for Atlas’s sake, and so they could make more progress in tracking down the mystery of his old friend’s cryptic message.
Atlas’s handler, Calhoun, had sent a random text to Cruz in the middle of the night a while back. It hadn’t made any sense. Cruz had assumed it’d been a drunk text, honestly. Then Calhoun died. As far as Cruz was concerned, the message and the tragedy were connected in a bad way, no matter what the official report said. Cruz needed Atlas to puzzle out Calhoun’s message and his old friend deserved having his last request fulfilled.
One step at a time. He’d see how things had progressed with Lyn and Atlas first, then figure out his next actions. Considering how he’d left Lyn, there was a spark he needed to follow up on there, too.
Juggling the packages he carried into his left hand, he freed up the other to give a quick knock. Lyn’s soft acknowledgment came from inside, not directly on the other side of the door but definitely in the main room. He let himself in.
“Brought some choices for lunch.” Stepping inside, he noticed the guest cabin was mostly dark. The only light was streaming in from the windows. Plenty to see by, but a relief from the midday sun beating down outside.
“Smells good.” Lyn had been…sitting? She rose from the middle of the floor and Atlas came to stand on all four feet as she did it.
Funny.
“I’ve got a couple of choices from our favorite sub shop. Cheesesteak or meatball parm. Which would you like?”
Her eyes widened.
Shit. Maybe she didn’t like either option.
“Are you a vegetarian?” He probably should’ve asked before they’d made the lunch run but he’d been in a hurry to tuck her away someplace safe and get back to the police who’d responded to the call this morning.
She blinked and placed her hand on her belly. “No. I was just hoping you hadn’t heard my stomach growl when the word ‘cheesesteak’ came out of your mouth. I’m starving.”
Good. Otherwise, he would’ve been making a second run out for food because he sure as hell wasn’t going to let her go hungry as a result of his lapse in thought. Generally, he tried to be considerate and shit. With this woman, though, he was constantly off his game.
Atlas stood in the middle of the living area watching him, expression and body language decidedly neutral.
Well, the pair of them had him off balance. Cruz might have a chance to regain it if they could avoid an encounter requiring police follow-up for more than twenty-four hours. All things considered, anyone would be a little unhinged.
He headed for the small kitchen table in the breakfast area. “Let’s not keep you waiting anymore.”
Pulling the foil-wrapped subs out of the bag, he placed the cheesesteak in front of her and took the meatball parmesan for himself. Plenty of napkins went in a pile in the middle of the table. Added bonus, he flipped open a carton containing French fries drowning in melted cheese.
Lyn pulled out a chair and glanced back at Atlas mid-motion. The dog’s ears swiveled forward. Cruz bit back his first impulse comment and waited to see what she did.
She gave a slight shake of her head. “Atlas, auf.”
The dog hesitated and then lay down on his belly, head still up.
“Blijf.” She gave the dog a long look and then turned, seating herself.
Atlas watched her back and glanced at Cruz. Then the big dog set his head between his paws, turned away from the table as if he hadn’t wanted any people food anyway.
Cruz approved. No way was he going to feed any dog in their care this kind of junk food. And yes, he saw the irony. But the dogs at Hope’s Crossing Kennels were fed balanced meals based on their weight and level of activity. Cheesy, greasy, bombs of comfort food were not figured into their dietary plans.