Chapter 2 - TITAN WASN’T RUNNING AWAY FROM ROMAN. SOMEONE HAD TAUGHT HIM TO RUN FROM PAIN
Emma did not go home that night.
That was not because Roman ordered her to stay.
He tried.
She refused.
Then Detective Lena Morales arrived and independently told Emma she should probably not sleep alone above her store until the situation became clearer.
Emma looked at Roman.
“That sounded much better when she said it.”
Roman stood near the shattered biscuit display.
“I’ll remember to bring a detective next time I make a reasonable suggestion.”
“There should not be a next time.”
“I agree.”
Detective Morales took statements until almost three in the morning.
Felix said very little.
He admitted the black object belonged to him but claimed it was unrelated to Titan.
The device inside the harness went into an evidence bag.
Emma watched Morales seal it.
“Can I tell you what I think?”
Morales nodded.
“What?”
“The skin injury matters.”
“Why?”
“It’s too localized for simple chafing.”
“Could the hidden module cause it?”
“Maybe.”
“I need a veterinarian before I say more.”
Roman spoke.
“I have one.”
Emma looked at him.
“Of course you do.”
“Dr. Lena Cho.”
“I know Lena.”
That surprised him.
“You do?”
“She handles half the working dogs in Boston.”
“And she buys rabbit jerky here.”
Roman stared.
“Titan hates rabbit jerky.”
“Then nobody is perfect.”
At four-thirty, Dr. Cho met them at her emergency clinic.
Titan refused to enter until Emma went first.
Roman noticed.
He said nothing.
That was worse somehow.
Inside, Lena examined Titan while Emma sat on the floor beside his head.
Roman stood by the wall.
Dante and one other guard remained outside.
Lena pointed beneath Titan’s shoulder.
“This is contact irritation.”
Emma nodded.
“From the module?”
“Possibly.”
“Burn?”
“Not exactly.”
Lena glanced at Roman.
“How long has he been anxious?”
Roman frowned.
“He hasn’t.”
Lena looked at him.
“Roman.”
He went still.
“You told me last month he stopped sleeping in the downstairs hallway.”
“That is not anxiety.”
“He started sleeping outside your bedroom.”
“He has always—”
“No.”
Lena shook her head.
“He used to patrol the entire first floor.”
“You also said he flinched during harnessing two weeks ago.”
Emma looked at Roman.
He did not look pleased.
“You knew something was wrong.”
“I thought he had pulled a muscle.”
Lena continued.
“He lost six pounds.”
Roman’s expression changed.
“How?”
“Stress can do that.”
“I feed him myself.”
“Stress does not require lack of food.”
Emma looked at Titan.
The dog’s eyes were half closed.
Lena asked:
“Who handles him when you’re gone?”
Roman answered:
“Security.”
“Specific people?”
“Dante.”
“Vincent Hale.”
“Felix occasionally.”
“Others.”
Emma asked:
“Who changed the harness?”
Roman frowned.
“What?”
“Did you put this exact harness on him yesterday?”
“No.”
“Who did?”
He pulled out his phone.
A call.
“Dante.”
Seconds later:
“Yes?”
“Who harnessed Titan before transport?”
Pause.
“Vincent.”
Roman’s face hardened.
“Are you sure?”
Another pause.
“Yes.”
Roman ended the call.
Emma looked at him.
“Who is Vincent?”
“My head of security.”
“How long?”
“Twelve years.”
Lena stopped examining Titan.
“Twelve?”
Roman nodded.
Emma saw something in his expression.
Felix would be easy.
Felix had worked security eighteen months.
Vincent Hale was different.
Twelve years meant weddings.
Funerals.
Hospital rooms.
Secrets.
Emma asked:
“You trust him?”
Roman answered quietly.
“With my life.”
Lena looked at Titan.
“Maybe that’s the problem.”
Roman’s eyes hardened.
“Careful.”
Emma stood.
“No.”
He looked at her.
“You don’t get to threaten the vet because you don’t like the direction of the evidence.”
“I didn’t threaten her.”
“You used the face.”
“What face?”
Lena said:
“The one that makes restaurant managers apologize before you complain.”
Roman stared at both women.
“This is becoming hostile.”
Emma almost smiled.
Lena continued.
“I am not saying Vincent hurt Titan.”
“I’m saying somebody did.”
“The device will tell you more.”
“What does Titan tell us?”
Emma asked.
Lena touched the dog’s shoulder gently.
“That repeated discomfort probably happened while this harness was on.”
“If something in the harness could be remotely triggered, Titan may have started associating nearby people, places, or routines with pain.”
Roman’s jaw tightened.
“Conditioning.”
“Yes.”
“He is not refusing you because he stopped trusting you.”
Roman looked at Titan.
Lena continued.
“He may be trying to avoid the environment around you.”
That landed differently.
Roman sat.
Emma watched him.
For the first time, he looked less like Boston’s feared Roman Calder and more like a man trying to understand how his dog had been hurting under his nose.
“When did it start?”
Lena asked.
Roman thought.
“Three weeks.”
“What changed?”
“Security rotation.”
“Anything else?”
Roman said nothing.
Emma waited.
Then:
“My uncle returned to Boston.”
There.
Family.
“Name?”
Emma asked.
“Victor Calder.”
She knew the name.
Everybody did.
Victor was Roman’s father’s younger brother.
Board member.
Old money.
Old power.
The man television reporters described as “a respected waterfront investor” while using photographs that always made him look like he had just finished denying something.
Lena asked:
“Does Victor handle Titan?”
“No.”
“Does Titan know him?”
“Yes.”
“Like him?”
Roman’s mouth tightened.
“He tolerates him.”
Emma looked toward Titan.
“Dogs usually have better boundaries than people.”
Roman almost laughed.
Then Detective Morales called.
Roman answered on speaker at Lena’s request.
“We identified the module.”
Morales said.
Emma leaned forward.
“What is it?”
“A modified aversive-training component.”
Lena’s face darkened.
Roman went still.
Morales continued.
“It appears capable of delivering vibration and unpleasant stimulation.”
“No manufacturer marking.”
“We’re sending it to a lab.”
“Felix’s remote?”
Roman asked.
“Likely paired.”
“Not proven yet.”
Roman’s voice went cold.
“How many activations?”
“Lab may be able to recover a log.”
Emma looked at Titan.
Morales added:
“One more thing.”
“What?”
“The harness was custom-made.”
Roman nodded.
“Yes.”
“Serial hardware traces to Northline K9 Equipment.”
Lena frowned.
“I know them.”
Roman looked at her.
“Good?”
“Equipment is good.”
“Training side?”
“Closed two years ago after complaints.”
“What complaints?”
“Overly harsh methods.”
Emma’s stomach tightened.
Roman asked:
“Who owns Northline?”
Lena answered before Morales could.
“Gabriel Ward.”
Roman’s expression changed.
Emma noticed.
“Who is he?”
Roman looked at her.
“My uncle Victor’s former security director.”
The room went quiet.
Morales said:
“That does not establish a conspiracy.”
Roman replied:
“No.”
“But it establishes a conversation.”
Morales’s voice sharpened.
“No conversations without me.”
Roman almost smiled.
“You’re optimistic.”
“Roman.”
“I heard you.”
The call ended.
Emma folded her arms.
“You were about to do something stupid.”
“I was about to ask my uncle a question.”
“With armed men?”
“No.”
“Then how?”
Roman looked at her.
“Dinner.”
Emma blinked.
“What?”
“Calder family dinner.”
“Every Friday.”
“And you think a man potentially involved in torturing your dog is going to explain himself over roast beef?”
“Not directly.”
Emma stared.
Roman continued.
“People tell you more when they believe you’re still pretending.”
That sentence told Emma something about the Calder family.
Probably more than she wanted to know.
Lena finished treating Titan.
“No harness for at least ten days.”
“Soft collar if needed.”
“Keep stress low.”
Roman looked toward Emma.
Titan was lying with his front paw over her shoe.
Lena followed his gaze.
Then smiled.
“Looks like he picked his emotional-support human.”
Emma sighed.
“I own a pet store.”
“I do not provide complimentary mobster-dog therapy.”
Roman said:
“I’ll pay.”
“No.”
His eyebrows lifted.
Emma continued.
“Because then you’ll think I work for you.”
“I don’t.”
“You offered money in under three seconds.”
“That is generally how commerce works.”
“You are exhausting.”
Lena looked between them.
“Titan can stay here overnight.”
The dog immediately lifted his head.
Roman shook his.
“No.”
Lena sighed.
“Roman.”
“He comes with me.”
Titan stood.
Moved closer to Emma.
Roman stopped.
Everyone looked at the dog.
Emma muttered:
“This is awkward.”
Roman took a slow breath.
“Titan.”
Emma held up one finger.
“No command.”
He looked at her.
Then corrected.
“Would you come with us?”
Emma stared.
“You’re asking me?”
“I am learning.”
She looked at Titan.
Then Roman.
“Where?”
“My house.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“I know enough crime movies to understand that sentence never ends well.”
Lena laughed.
Roman did not.
“My estate has security.”
“Apparently that is part of the problem.”
Roman looked annoyed because she was right.
Emma considered.
“I have an apartment above my shop.”
“No.”
“That wasn’t a question.”
“Someone inside my organization interfered with Titan.”
“You witnessed it.”
“Your store address is public.”
“So is your mansion.”
“Yes.”
“But mine has reinforced gates.”
“You say that like Felix didn’t work inside them.”
Roman had no answer.
Lena intervened.
“Emma.”
“Yes?”
“Take the guesthouse.”
Emma stared.
“At his place?”
“Yes.”
“Why are you helping him?”
“I’m helping Titan.”
“Traitor.”
Lena smiled.
Roman waited.
Emma finally sighed.
“One night.”
Roman nodded.
“No armed men in the room with him.”
“Fine.”
“No leather harness.”
“Obviously.”
“No commands unless necessary.”
Roman looked pained.
“Fine.”
“And I leave whenever I want.”
“Yes.”
Emma pointed at him.
“If anybody locks a gate—”
“You will yell at everyone?”
“Immediately.”
“I believe you.”
That was how Emma Hayes ended up driving through iron gates into the Calder estate at six-thirty Friday morning with the most feared man in Boston in the car ahead of her and his traumatized Cane Corso asleep across the back seat of her Subaru.
The estate sat outside the city in Brookline.
Old stone.
Tall windows.
Not a mansion trying to look rich.
A house that had been rich before anyone alive entered it.
A woman waited on the front steps.
Dark hair.
Camel coat.
Early thirties.
She looked enough like Roman to be family.
Roman got out.
“Sofia.”
His younger sister looked at Titan.
Then Emma.
Then Roman.
“Why is Titan in a Subaru?”
Emma opened her door.
“Because Titan has taste.”
Sofia stared.
Roman closed his eyes.
“This is Emma.”
Sofia smiled slowly.
“Oh.”
Roman frowned.
“What does that mean?”
“Nothing.”
“It means something.”
Sofia walked toward Emma.
“Sofia Calder.”
“Emma Hayes.”
Sofia looked into the Subaru.
Titan lifted his head.
His tail tapped once.
“Thank God.”
She whispered.
Emma watched her.
“You knew he wasn’t okay.”
Sofia looked at Roman.
Then back.
“Yes.”
Roman’s face hardened.
“You said nothing.”
“I said plenty.”
“You told me he was sulking.”
“I told you he was acting afraid.”
“That is not the same.”
Sofia folded her arms.
“Now you know how it feels when people minimize what’s in front of them.”
Something old passed between the siblings.
Emma immediately wanted coffee.
Sofia continued:
“And if Felix was involved, this is bigger.”
Roman stared.
“Why?”
Sofia looked toward the house.
“Because Felix wasn’t the one who changed Titan’s transport schedule yesterday.”
Roman went still.
“Who was?”
Sofia hesitated.
Then:
May you like
“Victor.”
The family dinner suddenly mattered a lot more.
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