Chapter Four
Gabriel
“Whiskey, sweetheart, this is my job.” Gabriel looked down at Whiskey, who was navigating by scent, her nose in the air as she trotted along. The way her feet were dancing made Gabriel think that whatever smell was riding the wind had a happy memory associated with it.
Gabriel found himself focusing on the air as he breathed in. A few strides like that, and he thought he might be making out a hot dog, possibly on a street cart set up for people getting off work late and simply wanting something in their stomachs before they went home.
A hot dog, Gabriel remembered Daniel telling him, was the high-value reward that Whiskey got when she made a find on a search-and-rescue mission. He’d have to be careful about what treats he handed out. He should probably call Whiskey’s trainer and find out the dos and don’ts in case Whiskey ever did that kind of work again.
They arrived at the door, and when Gabriel stopped, Whiskey sat and looked up at him. “I had to bring you with me, but I know you're gonna be on your best behavior.”
No reaction.
Well, it was what it was. And since he was getting pulled in after hours with an emergency light flashing, surely they’d prefer he walk in with his dog rather than drive all the way home and back again.
Hisdog.
Gabriel didn’t think he’d ever see Whiskey as his. She would always be Daniel’s.
Moving down the hall, a coworker stopped him, his hand held out and deep sympathy lines on his forehead.
Gabriel switched the lead to his left hand and reached out for the shake.
“Heard about your brother, man. I'm gutted.” He pounded a fist against his chest, looked Gabriel dead in the eye, then shook his head as if he didn't have the words.
And that was fine.
Gabriel didn't need the words. He got that when people knew about his brother, they started thinking about their own relationships, their own siblings, their own mortality.
Old was not how people died. People died when people died.
Daniel was young and brave. He was fit and smart. Daniel was successful.
And then Daniel was dead.
That it happened so fast was shocking to everyone.
Him.
Daniel’s death was shocking to him.
There was no preparing for the impact of losing Daniel because there was no way that Gabriel could know the sensations that would flood his body.
If everyone who wanted to show their sympathy would give him a nod, touch their heart, and move along, the spigot of emotions wouldn’t turn on, and Gabriel wouldn’t drown.
Moving onto the elevator didn’t give him the seclusion he’d hoped.
There it was again, the condolence face, the outstretched hand, the good intentions.
“This is the famous Whiskey?”
“In the flesh.” Gabriel didn’t know this woman or how she’d know about Whiskey. He didn’t care. He had another floor to go; then he’d be away from this conversation.
“If there’s anything I can do, please let me know. You have Gail’s and my deep sympathy.”
“Thank you.” Should he know a person named Gail?
The doors opened.
