Had he taken it.
It was the question of someone who understood that an animal could be surrounded by help and still be unable to accept any of it.
Brenda answered before Maya could.
“No. He lunges. He knocks it over. We cannot get close enough to help him.”
Samuel nodded once.
The nod did not mean approval.
It meant he had added the fact to a map inside his head.
Then Kevin Finch came through the front doors with a catch pole in one hand and the dart rifle in the other.
Kevin was good at his job most days.
He was young, strong, and used to frightened animals becoming manageable once the right tool came out of the truck.
But the Malinois had made him look foolish the day before, and embarrassment can make a man louder than he needs to be.
“Better clear out, pops,” Kevin said. “We are about to have a little rodeo.”
