Anthony DeAngelo came into Jesse's office leading a male Dalmatian on an improvised leash. The dog was panting, and restless on the leash.

"Got a date?" Jesse said.

"It's a him," DeAngelo said.

"So?"

"I found him up on the pike running around, you know, like they do when they're lost?"

"Near the donut shop?"

DeAngelo grinned. "Yeah, how'd you know?"

"I'm an experienced law officer," Jesse said. "Molly got any lost dogs?"

"I checked when I came in the station. She says she got two. One's a poodle. One's a Lab."

Jesse nodded.

"No tags?"

"No collar," DeAngelo said.

"How'd you get him in the car?" Jesse said.

"Donut."

"Of course," Jesse said. "Where'd you get the nice leash?"

"Lady at the donut shop gave me some twine."

"You call the dog officer?" Jesse said.

"Valenti? He's working. Don't usually get home till six."

"Part-time help," Jesse said. "Inexpensive and worth it."

He looked at the dog. Still panting, the dog looked disoriented. He was wagging his tail aimlessly. His ears were flat and his body was a little hunched.

"Okay," Jesse said, "put him in one of the cells."

"Ain't it illegal in this town to domicile dogs and humans in the same space?" DeAngelo said.

"Of course it is," Jesse said. He looked at DeAngelo without speaking.

"Okay," DeAngelo said. "You care which cell?"

"Your choice," Jesse said. "And give him some water."