Leaning back, he closed his eyes. They flew open when he felt someone shake his shoulder and heard Garry saying, “Falling asleep on the job?”
“Damn, what time is it?”
“An hour later than it was the last time I saw you,” Garry replied. “Why didn’t you go inside?”
“Because of your attack dog.”
Garry snorted as he opened the door. “He’d have licked you to death to show he was glad to have company.”
As if to prove his point, his dog, a medium-sized black and white border collie, bounced over to greet them as soon as they were inside. When Wylie held out his hand, the dog slathered his tongue over it.
“Sit, Ziggy,” Garry ordered. The dog obeyed, although it was obvious it was the last thing he wanted to do. “Good boy. Out?” Garry asked him.
Wylie was certain the dog would make a beeline for the door, but he didn’t. Unbelievably, he nodded his head. Garry winked at Wylie then told Ziggy, “Go.”