from Henry, he stopped.
Completely.
His paws scraped across the wood.
His body trembled.
His nose worked frantically.
Then the police dog lowered himself onto the porch.
Crawled forward on his belly.
Slowly.
Almost like a puppy.
The tip of his tail began moving.
Back and forth.
Then he placed his head on Henry’s shoe.
And made a sound nobody expected.
Not a bark.
Not a growl.
A broken, aching cry.
Henry looked down.
His hand slowly emerged from his coat.
There was no gun.
Only a small bottle of
