Free Wild Rescue by Jerry B. Jenkins, Chris Fabry

farm was going.
    “Fine, I guess. . . . Hey, Ashley’s not there, is she?”
    “She’s not with you?”
    “Well, she’s probably in the barn. I’ll find her.”
    “Bryce, what’s going on?”
    “Nothing. Can you do me a favor?” I asked her to look up Stan’s phone number from the school directory.
    She gave it to me and said, “Now tell me what’s up.”
    “Mom, it’s detective stuff. We’re fine. I’ll see you later.”
    I called the farm again. No answer. I dialed Stan’s and he picked up.
    “Double-checking, Stan. Are you sure your dad didn’t take his car to the repair shop before your trip to Oregon?”
    “He’s right here. Let me ask.”
    Stan came back on. “We were going on a trip this week. Dad had an appointment at Carhardt’s, but he canceled it.”
    Then how did the robbers get the key?
    “Any other work on the car around that time?” I said.
    Stan covered the phone again. Then, “Nothing but an oil change.”
    “At Carhardt’s?”
    “No. He always goes to Instant Oil.”

Chapter 57

    When I got back a white van had pulled up and a lady in a blue uniform was talking with the officer and the paramedic. She was tall and thin and looked like one of those beach volleyball players, her hair pulled back under a baseball cap. She wore dark, wraparound sunglasses.
    I whispered to Denise, “Do you know who the jogger was?”
    “I’ve seen her before, but I can’t remember where.”
    “Is she in the ambulance?”
    Denise shook her head. “She limped off. Said she didn’t want any treatment but that somebody should take care of that dog.”
    “I can’t imagine Buck attacking anyone.”
    “He did,” Denise said. “I was out by our pool when I heard the barking. I didn’t think much of it because that dog barks a lot. Then I heard screaming. I threw on my robe and ran down here. He just attacked her as she was running. She had bite marks and blood on her legs. I don’t know how she walked away.”
    “You actually saw the attack?”
    “You bet I did. And I wouldn’t want anybody else to get bitten like that. Look at him. They say once a dog tastes human blood, he wants more.”
    The officer came over. “Ashley, we’re going to take the animal.” The way he said animal made it sound like murderer .
    “But we need him! He protects the herd!”
    Buck growled again as the animal control lady joined us. “He was probably just scared,” she said. “Something about the jogger frightened him, and he probably thought he was protecting his herd, like you say. But we have to check him out, make sure nothing’s wrong, okay?”
    I nodded, but it wasn’t okay. “Where are you taking him?”
    “To the shelter. Until . . . we figure out what to do next.”
    She went to her truck and brought out a long pole with a rope at the end.
    “Wait,” I said. “You don’t have to use that.”
    The officer waved. “We can’t let you—”
    “Buck won’t hurt you. He’s nice. I’ll show you.”
    Before they could stop me I crawled through the fence and knelt by Buck. I have to admit he had a wild look, like something wasn’t right. I reached to pet him and he growled.
    “That’s it!” the officer shouted, drawing his gun again. “Get away from him!”
    “It’s okay,” I whispered to Buck. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you. I promise.”
    Buck whined and turned, licking my hand. I patted his head and scratched under his chin, and he bounced up and ran around the alpacas. They were all restless and humming.
    “Don’t let him get away!” the officer said.
    “Put your gun away and I’ll bring him over,” I said. “Where do you want him?”
    The lady pointed to the side door of her van. The officer and Denise stepped behind the sheriff’s cruiser. I crawled back through the fence and patted my knees, coaxing Buck to follow. He loped after me. I stepped into the van where a cage separated the driver from the back and smaller cages were stacked. Buck followed