Operation Power Play. Justine Davis
Chapter 4
Is this really worth it?
Brett Dunbar was at the stage of his morning run where he always doubted it. The stage when even the beauty of his surroundings as the trail paralleled an inlet of Puget Sound didn’t help.
His new companion was no help either. He’d thought Cutter would be a distraction at least. That the dog might act as dogs do, slowing to sniff everything in sight, thus allowing him to give in to the urging of his body to slow down, enjoy the morning quiet, make this a nice leisurely stroll. But this dog was acting like a demanding trainer, pushing, prodding, running ahead and turning to wait, subtly implying that Dunbar was slacking off.
“Darned dog,” he muttered.
That was what he got for somehow ending up dogsitting while Quinn and Hayley Foxworth were on their honeymoon.
He kept going as he came out of the thick trees and saw the gleam of the water. Sunrise was coming, heralded by the lightening of the sky across the sound. He knew that he was almost past the tough part, that just about here the endorphins would kick in and he’d hit that pace that was perfect, that seemed as though he could keep going forever. But every time, he had to get through this part first, this section where his entire body screamed at him to stop.
People had told him once he hit forty it would get harder. Now, with his forty-second birthday looming, he had to admit the change wasn’t in his pace or his stamina but in the increase in mental discipline it took to keep going. And yet the bottom line never changed. He did this six days a week, rain or shine, for one simple reason. He was a cop, and one day his life could depend on it.
The radiance began to grow from behind the distant ridge of the Cascade Mountains. There were enough remnants remaining from yesterday’s storm to give the sun lots of clouds to light up. He watched the show as he ran. Orange, pink and bright blue streaked across the sky, clouds turning from gray to bright white as the light grew stronger. Some clouds stayed darker, appearing like black puffs against the white clouds behind, a stark counterpoint to the brilliant display of sunrise.
Cutter stopped just ahead, where the trail curved away from the water to run below a small group of houses up the hill. The dog’s head was up, and if he’d been looking toward the sunrise, Brett might have thought the clever dog was enjoying the view, as silly as that seemed. He’d seen this dog at work—literally—and it wouldn’t have surprised him.
But instead Cutter was looking up toward the houses. Intently, his ears as focused as his eyes, not moving at all. His nose was twitching and his ribs moving as he took in deep breaths, no doubt tangy with whatever had caught his attention.
The dog looked at him then, and novice though he was with this, even Brett could see something had changed. He slowed to a stop. The dog was no longer that taunting, teasing physical trainer. Something intense and focused had come into those amber-flecked dark eyes, and Brett suddenly remembered all the times he’d heard the Foxworth people talk about the dog willing people to do something.
As if he’d been waiting to be sure he had Brett’s attention, Cutter started up the side path. Brett’s brow furrowed. He took that path some days, because it led up to those houses and a sidewalk that was better to run on when the rain was coming down hard. But he’d never taken it in the four days Cutter had been with him, so where had the dog gotten the idea?
He picked up the pace as the animal opened up a lead on him. It wouldn’t do for Hayley and Quinn to come home and find out he’d lost their dog.
“Should