Free I Don't Dance (Freebirds Book 6) by Lani Lynn Vale Page A

floor with his gaping maw at Kosher’s throat, and then just as quickly, Kosher was up and pinning Radar to the floor.
    Radar didn’t know it yet, but he was about to retire. Just as soon as I could guarantee that Kosher was ready.
    Kosher was a two-year-old German Shepherd. I’d been working with Kosher now for two years. I’d raised him from a tiny puppy, all of six weeks old, just as I’d done with Radar.
    Radar I’d gotten even earlier at five weeks, but the results were the same.
    Raised from tiny pups, I put them through vigorous training, exercised them, and worked with them day and night. So much so that I considered them the perfect dogs. They would both protect me with their life, and I knew the day would come, likely sometime very soon, that Radar would need to retire. Therefore, that’s why I’d started working with Kosher.
    Police dogs got tired just like humans. There was only so much a police officer could take before he needed a break. Sadly, Radar’s break was very near. At nine years old, it was nearly Radar’s time.
    I already knew Kosher hated being left behind in the mornings as we left, but soon it would be Radar, and I just didn’t know how he’d react to seeing his place in my vehicle usurped by his friend.
    Mocha and Tequila, not ones to pass up a fight, ran full tilt until they both slammed into the snarling mass of fur, being brought into their tumble out of sheer momentum.
    The high-pitched puppy barks started to get to me, so I started repeating one word very softly. At first it started out almost like a whisper, but then it turned into a quiet word.
    “Heel.” I said softly.
    No reaction from the rat pack.
    “Heel.” I said again.
    Surprisingly, it was one of the puppies that reacted first.
    “Heel.” I said with a slightly higher pitch.
    Which was another reason why I thought it was about time for Radar to retire. I wasn’t saying he wasn’t good at his job. I was saying that he was losing his touch, and that touch was paramount to mine and Radar’s life.
    Mocha, of course, got the towel I kept at my hip for praise, and she held on a good ten seconds longer than she usually did. She basked in the approval I gave her before I finally won and looked at the glaring Radar.
    That was his towel. Or at least he thought it was. Normally, he was the one who got the towel.
    “You snooze, you lose, old buddy!” I called to him.
    I had a feeling he’d be mad at me for a while.
    Walking away from the horde, I went to the laundry room to grab my uniform I’d picked up from the cleaners last night and then to my room to get dressed.
    After I stripped down to my briefs, I slipped on thick gray wool socks over my feet. Then I pulled on my uniform pants, zipping but not buttoning. Followed shortly by a plain white undershirt, my bulletproof vest, and then my uniform shirt.
    Once all of that was in place, I tucked, zipped, and straightened.
    I clipped on my badge, slipped on my boots, and then belted my gun belt around my waist.
    After everything was in place, I went to the bathroom and ran the electric raiser over my face, brushed my teeth, grabbed my gun off the bathroom counter, and holstered it before walking out my bedroom door.
    I could already feel the low throb of my lower back from my gear, which meant not good things for me. Today wasn’t going to be a fun day. I hated running the dog through the schools. I hated finding weed and coke in a fourteen year old’s locker.
    Although today should prove interesting since I was doing it at the school that Viddy and Adeline worked at.
    Recently, the two schools had combined.
    Benton High and West Benton High had finally pulled their heads out and combined the two schools. It was ridiculous that they had two in the first place. Benton had a population of 15,000. It was ridiculous to have two graduating classes of sixty and sixty-two consecutively.
    What that meant now, though, was that Viddy and Adeline, her sister, now worked in the same