Chief pointed the laser at G and said to Yogi, “Our lives depend on getting the Ching back to our Boss, and the last thing I want to do is injure your dog trying to get it, but I will if I have to. I suggest you have her drop the phone—now.” 

Yogi turned to me and Bones. “I’m really not sure what to do here, boys. Something just isn’t right about all this. I want everyone here to be able to go home, and I don’t want anyone to get hurt by whatever that thing is.” 

G growled and picked up Stevie’s phone in her mouth again. Clearly, she wasn’t as sympathetic to the Suits’ plight as Yogi was. 

Joe bent over and slowly walked toward G, his hand extended. “OK, doggie, be a nice doggie and give us the Ching.” 

“She doesn’t like to be called a dog,” Bones corrected him—as if that mattered right now. “She’s as smart as you and me.” 

“Oh, that’s cool,” Joe replied. “I wasn’t allowed to have one growing up. I love dogs . . . um, I mean, people . . . I mean, dogs . . . well, what am I supposed to call her anyway?” 

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