Chapter 64

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Wednesday dawned wet, spitting a miserable mist that reminded Brandon of Seattle. He left Paisly's house early, wearing his Englishman's jacket and driving Paisly's car. He swung through McDonald's for breakfast and headed out to work on the next step of his plan, the dog.

He felt sorry for the mutt, actually Justice. The letters were etched into a bone shaped tag on his collar that Brandon had removed as soon as he took him. He was one of the friendliest dogs he ever met, nice and fuzzy and just plain lovable. Brandon hated leaving him tied up so much, but he couldn't risk someone else discover him. Not when he was this close.

Things were moving now, so had the television. The faces of Mrs Chadborne and the crime lab technician, along with every other disguise the FBI could come up with, he popped up in the news overnight. Except for the old English gentleman, Brandon thought with a sly smile. He still had a few tricks up his sleeves.

He worked his way through the pasture and up to the shed, carrying a bottle of Aquafina water and a couple of egg Mcmuffins in a bag. He could tell the moment Justice heard him approach, the dog whining in excitement.

"Hey boy." Brandon said, ducking into the shed. Justice wagged the entire back of his body. Brandon rubbed his fur the dog sniffing the McDonald's bag enthusiastically. "Hungry are you?" A little chow dog chow was left in one bowl, and half of an inch of water in the other. "Not to much, I see. But I bet you will like this."

He poured the waters into the dish and broke out a sandwich. He took the leash off and made Justice do the normal doggy things for bites of meat, sit, shake, roll over. Sarra taught him well. Then he worked on a whistle, "Come."

It was the only thing the dog really had to know.

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