LITMIR.BIZ

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in Montana five years ago.”

      “Oh, sorry,” Devo says.

      Allie gives him a wan smile. “It’s been an adjustment, that’s for sure. I swear I’ve been on top of his meds. I set them out for him and check each day to make sure he’s taken them. I use one of those calendar pill dispensers with the days of the week on it to make sure he takes them all. He’s usually fine when he’s on his meds.”

      “I remember him saying he didn’t like the meds the last time I saw him in the ER,” I say. “He said they made him too lethargic. I talked with his physician and asked if there was something different he could try that might lessen that effect. His meds were changed then, weren’t they?”

      “They were,” Allie says. “And Danny was really happy with the new meds. I saw a difference in him. He was perkier and more animated.”

      “It’s possible that the meds aren’t working any longer, or that his dose needs adjusting,” I say. “I think it would be wise to take him to the ER tonight and get him checked over. Maybe there’s something else going on. Physical illnesses can interfere with certain medications and you said he felt like he was coming down with something.”

      Allie nods, looking concerned. “Think he’ll go without a fuss?” she asks.

      I glance into the other room and see Danny and Roscoe stretched out on the floor together, Danny slowly petting the dog from head to tail repeatedly, Roscoe on his side, tongue lolling. Both look relaxed, happy, and serene.

      “I think he’ll go along if Roscoe goes with him. Let’s give it a try and see what happens. Will you come with us?”

      “Of course,” Allie says.

      “Do you want me to come?” Joel asks Allie.

      She hesitates a moment, and then says, “Why don’t you hold down the fort here at home for now. If I need you, I’ll call.”

      “Okay,” Joel says, sounding dejected. He punctuates his comment with a long slug of beer.

      I turn to Devo. “There isn’t room in your car for all of us to ride, so why don’t I ride to the ER with Allie in her car and Roscoe can ride in the back seat with Danny. You follow us and meet us there, okay?”

      Devo looks unsure of this arrangement. “What if the guy goes off again?”

      “He won’t. Look at him.” Devo does, and I can tell from his expression that he’s relenting. “It’s what, a five-minute drive at most? We’ll be fine, but you can stay right behind us just in case, okay?”

      “Fine,” Devo says with lingering reluctance. “But you better be right about this. The chief said your safety is our responsibility, so if anything happens to you, my butt is in a sling.”

      I see Allie give me a curious look. “Yeah, so why are you here with the cops?” she asks. “I mean, I’m glad you are but we don’t usually see you outside of the hospital.”

      “I’m here because it’s part of my new job, a second job really, because I still work at the hospital. It’s a new program that the police department is launching called Helping Hands and it involves me and Roscoe riding around with them and offering up whatever services might be useful to the community at large, at least the parts of it that are dealing with the police. We can provide counseling, referrals, resources... that sort of thing.” I pause and glance into the other room at my dog, still stretched out alongside Danny. “And, of course, Roscoe provides his own unique service.”

      “And a valuable service it is,” Allie says, walking over and looking through the doorway at her brother. She studies the tableau for a few seconds and then says, “I think the program is a great idea. And I think you’re the perfect woman for the job.”

      “Yeah, if she doesn’t get herself killed,” Devo grumbles.

      “My brother is not a violent person, at least not intentionally,” Allie protests, her hackles rising.

      “It’s the unintentional that worries me,” Devo says.

      “I’ll be fine, Devo,” I insist. “I took that self-defense class, and I have my pepper spray if I need it. But I won’t.” I’ve spent the past two weeks going through training for the new job: learning police procedures, taking self-defense classes, and getting taught basic safety measures.

      Devo gives me his best skeptical look, one that says he’s smelling cow dung and lots of it. “I know you,” he says. “You won’t use that pepper spray with your dog in the car, so, don’t imply that you will.”

      “If it’s a matter of life and death, I most certainly will,” I tell him in my most convincing voice. “But trust me, everything will be fine.”

      Famous last words.

      Chapter 2

      Danny is subdued as we walk him out to the car and settle him in the back seat with Roscoe. I strap Danny in, and Roscoe stretches out on the seat beside him, his head in Danny’s lap. I don’t have the means to strap Roscoe in but given the short drive and the fact that we won’t be going much over twenty-five miles an hour, I think it will be okay. Hopefully, Allie is a good driver.

      As soon as Allie and I are strapped into our respective seats in the front, she starts the car, backs out of her driveway, and pulls out at a nice, leisurely pace.

      “How often do you ride around with the cops?” she says, once we’re on the street.

      “For now, I’m doing four shifts a week, Thursday through Sunday, from eleven at night until seven in the morning. My hospital hours got cut back some, so I don’t work Fridays there now. Overall, the two jobs mesh well. It’s going to be a little dicey on Thursdays because I have to work my regular hospital hours and then in the evening, when I could potentially sleep before the cop gig, I have my grief support group. By the time I get done with everything on Friday mornings, I will have been up for over twenty-four hours.”

      “Yuck,” Allie says. “That must be hard to do.”

      “I’m hoping it will get easier,” I say with a chuckle. “Last night was my first Thursday into Friday shift and I managed okay, but I was also excited about starting the new job and I think that gave me a bit of extra oomph. Once the newness wears off, I might have to rethink things. Maybe my grief support group will be willing to change the night we meet to Tuesday or Wednesday.”

      “Well, I’ll say it again. I think it’s a great idea to have you riding around with the cops. I know they mean well, but they just don’t get Danny and his illness. There have been some difficult and scary confrontations in the past.” She flips on her turn indicator—something I’m starting to think is a rarity among drivers these days—and takes a shortcut down a road that backs along the river and skirts along the length of the city cemetery.

      I hear a whine from the back seat and I’m not sure if it came from Danny or Roscoe. When I turn to look, I see Danny’s eyes widen with fear as he stares out his side window at the cemetery. Crap! Clearly the drive past the cemetery wasn’t a good choice given Danny’s issues, but it didn’t register with me at first, and obviously it didn’t register with Allie either.

      Danny starts breathing faster, and shallower, moaning slightly.

      “Danny, it’s okay. There’s nothing there,” I say, twisting my body around so I can see him.

      Roscoe pushes his head higher onto Danny’s lap, but there’s no comforting him at this point.

      “Look!” Danny whispers, pointing toward the cemetery. “There he is.” His voice breaks and he is practically whimpering. One hand reaches for the door handle. I sense he’s ready to whip that door open and jump out of the car, an insane and illogical move if he thinks the ghost is here. His chances of escape are far better in a car, but logic isn’t putting in much of an appearance for Danny right now.

      I

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