Later, when I climbed the steps to the back porch, Max was barking and running ran toward the front door, stopping to see if I was coming as her backup. “It’s okay, Max. Could be someone asking for directions.” I picked up my Glock and wedged it in my shorts near my lower back. The knock at the door was soft, almost apologetic. I opened the door, startling Detective Leslie Moore. “Mr. O’Brien,” she said, embarrassed. “Good morning.” “Heard your fan belt the first time you drove by. Makes surveillance difficult.” “I wasn’t on surveillance.” She looked at my damp T-shirt, shorts, and running shoes. “Is this a bad time?” “If you’re here to arrest me, it’s a bad time. Something else, not so bad, maybe.” She smiled. “No, I’m not here to arrest you. You’d be the first to know I wouldn’t do that without backup. May I come in?” “Door’s open.” As she stepped in the foyer, Max came running and barking. She knelt down and greeted Max. “Good morning! How are you?” She petted Max’s head, instantly winning a friend. “She’s so cute.”
