Weave a Silken Web

Crickets chirped loudly in the gentle, soft evening breeze. Dave found their steady hum comforting. The only thing marring the sound of the crickets was an occasional mournful hoo-hoo from an old hoot owl living in the woods behind the house. Dave and Andy quietly sat, on the wraparound porch facing the woods. Sitting directly in front of the woods was an old shed, along with two other small outbuildings.
The two brothers were camped on the porch for the night at Bill’s suggestion. They sat silently listening to the night noises, getting the pattern of the nocturnal din set in their heads, so if any new sound would stand out.
Hardrock was lying on the porch, apparently sleeping. He snorted softly in response to a pesky mosquito buzzing around his snout and repositioned himself with a huff. Dave decided that it would be a long but not unpleasant surveillance. At least it was a perfect night to be outside. The air was fresh and fragrant after yesterday’s rain.
When he’d spoken to Bill earlier, Bill had told him about two cars with New York plates arriving in the area that day. He said the cars left quickly, heading toward St. Louis, when they spotted a squad car behind them. Bill had followed them out of the county, but that didn’t mean they stayed gone after the squad car left. Bill thought it possible that the Mob might be planning a move on Karla now that the weather was good. He told Dave, “I’ve notified the guards to be on the alert. I’ve told my patrol cars to check in your area every hour. I only have two men at the farm, so you guys need to be watching.”
Jean had prepared a thermos of coffee, a few bottles of water, peanut butter sandwiches and cookies for her sons.
Dave hadn’t planned on telling Karla any of this, but when he and Andy were getting ready to go out, Karla decided to join them. Finally, Dave had to tell her about Bill’s warning. At first, she was quite annoyed with him for insisting she stay inside, but when the two brothers pointed out that Jean wasn’t allowed outside either, she had grumbled but gone up to her room. Even though she didn’t continue to argue with them, Dave and Andy could tell she wasn’t happy with them.
Deep down she knew her presence outside might put the men in more danger if anyone took a pot shot at her, but no one said she had to like it. Up in her room, she opened her window and let in the fresh air. She turned off the light and lay down on her bed, still in her clothes. She listened to the night noises and tried to imagine herself outside sitting on a lounge chair. She loved the call of the hoot owl. He sounded so mournful and lonely. In the distance she heard a whip-o-will.
It had been quiet for over two hour and Dave repositioned himself in his chair. He was getting a little sleepy with all this fresh air. He had told Andy to take a catnap an hour and a half earlier. His brother sat back with his eyes closed.
Dave poured himself a coffee and sipped it to shake off his sleepiness. When Andy woke up he’d get his turn. He could make it another couple of hours before he woke Andy. He glanced at his watch. It was ten minutes past midnight.
Suddenly, Hardrock raised his head, flicked his ears up and sniffed the air. The hair on his back bristled and ever so softly he began to growl deep in his throat. Andy was instantly awake. The dog got to his feet, looking off into the night. Both men were alert and waiting for direction from the dog, but neither said a word, not wanting to alert anyone that they were on the porch.
Suddenly the animal snarled and bounded off the porch and raced toward the shed barking furiously. Dave and Andy followed close behind. Moe, who had been in the barn, appeared at a full run, his ears laid back and his ruff bristling as he joined the fray.
Two shadowy figures darted out from behind the shed and ran toward the woods out back. Hardrock leaped onto the back of the shorter, stocky man, knocking him down. Andy and Moe followed the tall curly-haired man.
For a minute, Dave made no attempt to take on the small man who was attempting to get away from Hardrock. When he realized that wasn’t going to happen without the dog chewing him up, the man stopped struggling and lay still on his stomach. Hardrock stood over him snarling, his lips curled back over his teeth and drool dripping from his mouth. Finally, Dave moved in to disarm the man.
The little man yelled, “Get him off me.”
“If you don’t fight him, he’ll calm down.”
“He bit me,” the man complained.
“Mister, if he takes a notion to bite you, you’ll know it.”
Dave grabbed the little man’s left arm, pushed it up toward his shoulder blade and patted him down. He removed an .45 from a shoulder holster and an .32 from an ankle holster and placed both weapons in his own waistband.
“You’re hurting me,” the man whined.
“Then stay still,” Dave snapped.
Hardrock continued hovering over the man, at the ready, waiting for Dave’s command to attack. He continued growling furiously.
Hearing the scuffle, one of the off-duty officers appeared and cuffed the man and read him his rights and led him away.