Chapter 8

“Busted,” I replied.

Busted looked up at me from his work.

“Yup,” the man said. And he looked toward the door, grinning. It had opened without us hearing it, and there stood two, count them two, Illinois State Troopers. Well, all right then, now we knew where we were. Terrific.

I gulped. Brandon squeaked out, “No, Busted is his name. The dog’s name. He’s a good dog.”