Part 4
“Not yet,” Gabe said. “If his recovery stays on track, Dr. Park thinks he may be ready in three weeks.”
Leah was quiet for a moment. “No uniforms. No one from the department, and no pictures unless Mara asks for one.”
“Agreed.”
“If she wants to leave, we leave.”
“Same for Rook.”
Three weeks later, Dr. Park cleared him for a half-mile walk with one planned rest. By then he could walk across Gabe’s yard without support, though his left toes sometimes brushed the grass and fatigue pulled his hips sideways. Gabe still carried the folded sling over his shoulder on every outing.
They met the Bells at Foundry Park on a Saturday morning in June. The harvest tents and paper lanterns were long gone. A youth baseball game was beginning on the far field, and two toddlers ran through spray from the fountain while their father tried to keep their shoes dry.
Mara stayed beside Leah until she saw Rook, then crossed the parking lot with a bag of carrot coins in one hand.
Rook’s tail moved in a wide, slow arc. He leaned against her legs, and she scratched the fur below his ears without going near the new scar.
“You got skinny,” she told him.
Gabe had both blue braids in his pocket: the one Mara had tied around his wrist and the twin from the glove box. He held them out on his palm. “You told me to keep these until you saw him again.”
Mara took her own and fastened it around her wrist. She tied the other loosely through the ring on Rook’s navy collar, leaving the ends short enough not to catch.
“No stealing,” she said. Rook sniffed the braid and then the carrot bag.
“He remembers the important part,” Tom said.
The main path followed the river before turning toward the old service trail. Rook walked beside Gabe on a loose leash, stopping often to investigate tree roots and the base of a trash can. No harness told him to ignore the world, and he seemed pleased by the change in rules.
Mara walked several feet away at first. As the sounds of the ball field faded, she moved closer until her sleeve brushed Gabe’s arm. He did not ask whether she was all right. Leah and Tom followed at a distance that could close quickly if she wanted them.
At the bend before the service trail, Gabe stopped them for the rest Dr. Park had ordered. Rook lay in the grass without protest, and Mara sat beside him to break two carrot coins into smaller pieces. A family passed behind them; Mara watched until the strangers were gone, pressing her thumb to each fingertip in turn, then gave Rook the last piece.
The city had demolished the maintenance shed after investigators released the site. The tall cedar screen was gone, replaced by an open metal fence that allowed anyone on the trail to see the concrete pad and utility boxes inside. Weeds grew through cracks where the shed walls had stood.
Mara stopped when the fence came into view. Rook stopped with her, looked up once and lowered his nose to a patch of clover. The place where he had made the most important search of his career appeared to interest him less than whatever had passed through the grass that morning.
“I thought he’d know,” Mara said.
“Maybe.” Gabe watched Rook sample the clover. “Right now he knows something was here this morning.”
Mara held out her hand for the leash. Gabe gave her the handle but stayed at Rook’s shoulder, holding the slack halfway down the line. They walked to the gate together, the blue braid moving against Rook’s collar.
At the threshold, Rook sat and looked toward Gabe for the release he had been trained to wait for. Gabe said, “Okay,” and Mara opened the gate. Rook stood and followed her through.
Leah caught Tom’s hand. Neither of them called Mara brave or raised a phone. Gabe stayed within reach while Mara and Rook crossed the cracked concrete toward the place where the shed had been.
Rook sniffed one utility box, sneezed and moved on. Mara laughed, startled by the sound of herself. At the old foundation she crouched, touched the blue braid on his collar and then turned him back toward the gate before his leg began to shake.
They spent the afternoon on Gabe’s shaded porch. Leah and Tom drank coffee at the far end of the table while Mara read a library book aloud, stopping whenever Rook sighed loudly enough to interrupt her.
“Can I come next Thursday?” she asked.
Gabe did not look at Rook to answer for him. “If you want to.” Mara turned another page while Rook slept beneath the table.
When Mara shifted her sneaker, his paw settled across the toe without waking.