The Best Man (Blue Heron #1)(26)

But, as chief, he had to go on almost every call, too.

“Oh, Chief, please!” Nancy Knox wept. “He’s going to kill my baby! Please help!”

“Okay, okay, let me take a look,” he said. He crouched down and looked. No murders yet. Everyone looked very calm. Even a little sleepy. “Everett, go to the other side of the porch in case he makes a run for it.”

“Yes, sir, Chief. You bet. Going to the other side of the porch right now, roger.” Everett paused. “Uh, is that the south or the north side, sir?”

“Just go around the porch, Ev,” Levi said, trying to curb his impatience. “Don’t let him get away.”

“Roger that, Chief. Going to the other side, won’t let him get away.” Levi heard the click as Everett snapped open his holster.

“Put your gun back!” Levi barked. “For God’s sake, Everett. You’re gonna hurt someone with that someday.”

“Oh, my poor baby! Is she still alive?” Mrs. Knox said. “I can’t look! I can’t!”

Levi looked back under the porch, where a dog and a chicken were eyeing each other. “She’s alive, Mrs. Knox. Don’t worry. Come here, pooch. Come on, fella.”

The dog wagged and grinned but didn’t move. If Levi wasn’t mistaken, that was Faith Holland’s dog, judging by the size of his enormous head and neon-green plaid collar. The Knoxes lived about a mile down the Hill from the Hollands, and they kept chickens that made up about seven percent of Levi’s calls...they were free range, which meant they often wandered onto the road and had once caused a kid to veer off into the ditch. People were always calling to complain.

The chicken seemed just fine—the dog seemed delighted with the bird, which cocked its head and made a funny, burring noise. The dog wagged and panted, covered in dirt.

“Come on, Blue,” Levi said. “Come on, buddy.”

The dog smiled again. He was a great-looking dog, and dumb as a box of hair. Not that the chicken was Stephen Hawking, mind you. It could’ve walked out from under the porch at any time.

“Please, Chief. Please save my little baby.”

Levi sighed. The Knoxes needed to have kids or cats or monkeys or something. “Okay, I’ll go under.”

“That dog is vicious.” Mrs. Knox wept.

“Want me to call for backup?” Everett asked.

“No, Ev,” Levi said. “The dog’s fine.” Levi had to belly-crawl, using his elbows to pull himself along. His drill sergeant at basic had loved making them do this. Four tours in Afghanistan, and Levi had never once had to crawl. But here it was, coming in handy.

His cell phone rang. All police calls to the station were transferred to his cell if he was out on a call. “Chief Cooper,” he said.

“It’s me,” his sister said. “I’m home. I couldn’t take it another second.”

“You gotta be kidding me.”

“Is it Baby! Is she dead?” Mrs. Knox shrilled.

“She’s not dead,” Levi called back.

“Where are you?” Sarah demanded.

“I’m working. Why are you home? School started three weeks ago, Sarah, and you’ve already been back six times.”

“I’m homesick, okay? I’m sorry I’m such a pain in your ass, but I hate it there! I need a gap year.”

“You’re not having a gap year. You’re in college, and you’re going to finish. Now, I’m busy, so we’ll talk when I get home.”

“What are you doing?”

“I’m rescuing a chicken.”

“I am totally tweeting that. My brother, the hero.”

He hung up. Gap year, his ass. She’d go back to college; he’d drive her back tonight...okay, maybe tomorrow morning. And she’d stay in school, she’d do great, and she’d thank him later.

About five more feet of crawling through the dirt—which appeared to be fertilized by the Knox chickens, so, yes, this really was a chickenshit job at the moment—till he could reach the dog. But apparently, the chicken decided there was nothing to fear, because it plunked itself down right against Blue’s chest. The dog seemed quite pleased about that, resting his chin on the chicken’s back. “They’re cuddling,” he called.

“What?” Nancy shrieked. “Did you say killing?”

“Cuddling!” Levi shouted back.

“Chief!” Everett shouted. “Are you in danger? I have drawn my weapon! Do you need assistance?”

“Everett! Put that gun away!”

“Roger that, Chief.”

Levi sighed. More days than not, he imagined that he would die at the hands of Officer Everett Field’s general ineptitude. Alas, Everett was the only child of Marian Field, Manningsport’s mayor, and basically had a job for life. He wasn’t a bad kid, and he had a wicked case of hero worship where Levi was concerned, but he drew his weapon roughly six times a day.

“Blue, old buddy,” he said, “I’m gonna relieve you of this bird, if you don’t mind.” Blue wagged again, and Levi took the sleeping chicken in his hands, then reverse-crawled out. He was filthy. His shift was almost over, at least. Not that he stopped working; there was always something else to do, which suited Levi just fine these days.