“Oh,” Joe said. “I forgot to tell you. I brought home Bert’s dog. I couldn’t leave the guy out there in the woods. He’s in a crate out in the garage.”
“Another dog?” Marybeth said, raising her eyebrows.
“Sorry,” he said.
“Don’t apologize. I’d only be angry if you left it out there to fend for itself.”
“It’s goofy-looking,” Joe said. “I named it ‘Bert’s Dog.’ ”
“What’s another dog?” she said with a rueful smile.
—
“Any word from Nate?”Joe asked Liv after Marybeth refilled their wineglasses.
“He tries to call every night,” she said. “I kind of insist on it.”
Joe understood.
“He’s in Denver right now,” she said. “He thinks he’s close to finding Axel Soledad.”
Denver had been much in the news of late, as rioters had resumed nightly marches and set fire to a few downtown businesses.
“How close?” Joe asked.
“Close. Falconers are a strange breed, as you know,” she said. “They don’t get along together in person, but in a weird way they stick together. None of them want a guy like Axel Soledad around. So they pass along tips and sightings to Nate.”
“Close” meant Axel Soledad was very likely to be maimed or killed at any time, Joe thought. Either that, or they could lose Nate himself. That prospect horrified him.
“I still think Nate should get the federal authorities involved,” Joe said. “Transporting stolen wildlife across state lines is a federal crime.”
“He’ll never do that. He thinks he needs to take care of this himself.”
Joe nodded. He knew Nate and Nate’s particular code of justice better than anyone. He also knew that Nate’s past experiences with the feds had been primarily negative. Several FBI agents still had it in for him.
“Still... I wish he’d consider it.”
Liv responded with a Mona Lisa smile that conveyed to Joe he was wasting his time.
“Please tell him I’ll be there if he needs help,” Joe said.
“He knows that.”
“Well, just tell him again, please. I suppose this means he won’t be here for Thanksgiving.”
“I doubt it. You’re stuck with Kestrel and me.”
“We’re happy to be stuck with Kestrel and you,” Joe said. Marybeth toasted that sentiment by clinking her wineglass against Liv’s.
—
All three adultsturned their heads when there was a crash from inside the guest room, followed by peals of laughter from Kestrel.
“What’s going on back there?” Marybeth called out.
“Sheridan knocked the lamp over,” April responded with glee. “She’s a clumsy oaf.”
“I am not,” Sheridan shouted.