“My bedroom and bath are down the hall if you needanything,” he said, and then he started to walk back in the direction from which we’d come.
I guess that was it for the tour. It was okay, though, because this was just for one night. I couldn’t stay here longer in this close proximity to Hector, or I might do something stupid—like jump his bones.
After putting my toiletry bag in the guest bath and freshening up a bit—since I hadn’t been able to do that at my place—I wandered back out into the living room. Hector was in the kitchen heating something up in the microwave.
“Did you have dinner yet?” he asked me.
My stomach chose that exact moment to give away all my secrets by gurgling. “No, not yet, but I’ll be okay.”
I didn’t want to feel like a mooch since he was already letting me stay here. Maybe I could get food delivered here.
“I have leftover chili I can heat up for you. Would you eat it?”
I nodded in response and then glanced over the kitchen counter to see Sarge sitting perfectly in the kitchen.
“He seems to be doing well with the commands now,” I noted.
“Only because he wants whatever I’m cooking,” Hector replied.
I smiled because I understood that. I would probably be the same if I were a dog.
“He seems awfully young to be a retired dog,” I pointed out.
“He’s young because he was forced into retirement early because he’s considered defective.”
“How is he considered defective? He looks fine to me.”
“He’s defective because he gets distracted by food. Case in point,” he said, nodding in Sarge’s direction. “Anytime we would attempt to have him chase a criminal or focus on a mission and someone would offer him a piece of cheese, he would get distracted and not complete his mission.”
“Same, Sarge. I feel your pain, buddy,” I said to him, not that he could understand me.
“Yeah, well, unfortunately in police work, that’s enough to get you fired from the canine program.”
“Really? That’s insane to me. Dorothy distracts us with snacks all the time at work, and they haven’t fired her or me,” I chuckled.
“Sarge,” I said, and his ears perked up at the sound of his name. “Maybe you need to come to work with me. You would be loved there, and weallget distracted by food.”
Hector just shook his head at me as if I was a little crazy, but I also didn’t miss the lip twitch as he grabbed the food out of the microwave and handed it to me.
“Here,” he said, handing me the bowl and nodding to the barstool next to me. “Have a seat.”
We ate in relative silence, at his counter while Sarge sat at our feet, hoping and praying something would fall down to him.
Uncomfortable with the silence I decided to ask him a question that had been burning in my mind since the day I interviewed him at Lake Echo.
“You don’t have to answer, but…at my sister’s wedding, you were still working for the LVPD. Now you’re a park ranger. Why the big change?”
He paused in eating his meal, and his jaw tightened before he finally stuck the spoonful of chili into his mouth.
I guess that nonanswer was my answer. Back to silence it was.
“After everything that went down on my last mission, I realized I wanted out,” he said quietly but still loud enough for me to hear him.
“Can I ask what happened?” I asked, not necessarily because I was nosy, but because I just wanted to get to know him better.
“While undercover I watched one of the guys we were targeting sell drugs to a teenager,” he shared. “I knew I couldn’t intervene without blowing my cover but I could have found a way to call it in later, but I didn’t. I got distracted by my target and didn’t get a chance to call it in for almost twenty-four hours.”
He paused again and then sighed. “The drugs were apparently laced with fentanyl, and he didn’t make it. I still think about that kid often and how my slow responsekilled him.”
