“Ms. Kent, uh, this is Charlie—I mean Deputy Charlie Lynch with the Walton County Sheriff’s Department.” Charlie cringed. Where else would he be calling from? “I’m sorry to bother you this evening, but we need to get a statement from you about today.” He could still see the way her body trembled. Cold. Wet. In shock. “I know it’s a difficult thing to think about, but it’s important we get the information while it’s still fresh in your mind. You can come in or I can come to you. Um, or another deputy can come to your home and get your statement tomorrow. Okay, well, please call us at your earliest convenience. Thank you.”

Charlie hung up the phone and pinched the bridge of his nose. The call couldn’t have gone worse, nor could he have been more unprofessional if he had tried. He grabbed his gym bag, which contained that morning’s soggy workout clothes, and let the night shift know he was heading home.

He didn’t even have a foot out of his truck and could already hear the yapping coming from inside his house. He unlocked the front door and was met with a spring-loaded terrier, bouncing almost as high as his waist.

“Bane, sit,” Charlie commanded.

Like a magnet, the dog’s hindquarters found the ground. Bane stared up, waiting for the next command. The small cottage-style home off Ford Avenue was the perfect size for Charlie, but he wasn’t so sure it would be able to handle Bane’s energy. Thankfully there was a nice-size yard behind the home and a huge park a block over where he could run his dog’s energy to a livable level. He hoped.

“Stay.” Charlie inched toward a basket near the door, keeping his eye on the terrier. The dog’s tail swept the floor like a propeller ready to wind up for takeoff. Charlie cupped a green tennis ball in his hand.

“Stay.” Charlie edged to the back door and opened it. A floodlight illuminated the yard. Charlie threw the ball so that it landed in the farthest corner of the fenced yard and looked back at his dog. Bane’s entire body shook now, his eyes fixated on Charlie’s hand. He knew the drill and what came next but was unwilling to disobey his master even if it meant his body was convulsing. “Go get it, boy!”

Like a rocket, Bane shot past Charlie with speed unnatural for his short legs and bounded through the yard in search of the ball. Charlie ticked off the seconds in his head. When Bane’s head popped up with the green ball tucked securely in his jaw, Charlie shook his head.

“Almost forty seconds. You’re slacking.” The dog dropped the ball at his feet for round two. “It’ll have to wait, buddy. You’re not the only one with pent-up energy.”