Page 48 of Shelter for Martina

I hope I have this closed by then, Bud thought. “Thanks, but that’s okay. I’m going to let you get back to your party there and have a good time. Tell Rhonda hello for me, okay?”

“Sure will! Uh-oh. Here come those girls in bikinis. God, I love watching them jog every morning! Catch up to you later, Bud. Have a good one.” He didn’t get a chance to reply before the phone went dead. Girls jogging in bikinis. Yeah, Kent was having himself a good ol’ time in St.Thomas, lucky bastard.

Bud went back to staring at the papers on the desk. There was a connection somewhere, but he wasn’t seeing it. While he studied them, his phone rang again, a number from Henderson that didn’t look familiar. “Hello?”

“I’m looking for DetectiveAlbert Griffin.”

“Speaking.”

“Detective, this is DeputyJared Morris. I work for the MuhlenbergCounty Sheriff’s Department. We’ve got somebody in PC here who really needs to talk to you. Do you have a minute?”

“Sure.”Must be Marty, Bud thought. Maybe he was tired of protective custody and wanted to confess so he could just go on to jail. Bud waited until he heard, “DetectiveGriffin?”

“Yeah, Marty. What’s up?”

“Man, he’s driving me crazy! My daddy. He’s texting me constantly, wantin’ to know where I’m at. I mean, all the time. I don’ know what to tell him. What do I say? Please! I’m gettin’ skeered.”

“Make like you’re high and with some girl. Tell him to fuck off so you can party. I think he’ll believe that.”

“See, that’s why you’re a detective an’ I’m just a dumbass redneck, sir. You’re so much smarter than me. I’ll try it. If’n it don’ work, what then?”

“Have the deputy call me back and we’ll figure out something, but I’m sure it will. Now let me talk to him, okay? And Marty?”

“Yessir?”

“Don’t panic. Just stay cool. He can’t hurt you there.”

“Yessir. Here. I’m givin’ it back.”

There was a rustling sound and the deputy said, “Yes, sir?”

“Please text me and let me know when he’s calmed down. As long as he doesn’t tell Adams where he is, everything will be fine.”

“Yes, sir. I’ll watch him, sir.”

“Thanks. And thanks for putting up with him. I know he’s a pain in the ass, but he’s all we’ve got right now.”

“I understand, sir. Sorry to bother you.”

“Ah, no bother, deputy. Have a good day.”

“You too, sir.” Bud hit END and sat there. Adams was getting panicky because he couldn’t find Marty. Good. Maybe that would flush something out. What, Bud wasn’t sure, but something was better than nothing.

The next hour was spent in bed, staring at the ceiling. After all, a promise was a promise. He tried to sleep, but it was the middle of the day, and he was usually out prowling around during that time. By the time lunch rolled around, he was going stir crazy, so Martina took pity on him and went out to sit on the back deck with him.

“So?” She pointed down at his feet and he glanced down to find the dog there, lying curled up. He shrugged. “We need to name her. What’s her name?”

“I know what her collar said.”

“So do I, and I know that’s not going to happen.”

“Yeah. Kinda weird.” She might’ve been a sign, but he couldn’t see himself calling her by his dead wife’s name. “Needs to be sort of the same though. That would make it easier for her.”

“How about Lucky?”

At the mere sound of the word, the dog lifted her head and looked up at Martina. He’d been lucky that she was there that night, helping to ward off the coyotes when they tried to attack the horses. And she was lucky he’d come along, he and Mr.Emerson, and chased them off before one of them killed her. Maybe Lucky was a good name for her. “Sounds good to me. Do you like that, Lucky?”

The dog stood, shook herself, and walked straight to Bud, then laid her chin on his knee. She seemed to know what he was saying to her, and he stroked her head. When he did, she closed her eyes and seemed to enjoy just the simple touch. “Awww. She worships you, Albert.”

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