Robert Crais’ new standalone (or series debut?) clearly demonstrates the difference between concept and completed work. The idea of a lawman forced by circumstance to partner with a canine wasn’t exactly fresh when Tom Hanks buddied up with a slavering Hooch back in 1989. Senior citizens will remember the radio and early TV adventures of stalwart Sergeant Preston of the Yukon and his wonder dog King, characters that were themselves influenced by Jack London’s dog-centric fiction of the early 1900s. I could also reference the Jim Belushi movie K-9 and at least a half-dozen TV spinoffs (Rin Tin Tin: K-9 Cops, anybody?), but that would just be showing off. My point is that Crais has taken a hoary log line and turned it into a fresh, dramatic, totally satisfying contemporary crime novel that just might find a spot on next year’s Edgar short list. The leads are fully dimensional and strong—LAPD cop Scott James, the victim of unknown assailants, and the German shepherd Maggie, a wounded veteran of Iraq and Afghanistan, both mending from severe physical and psychological damage. The supporting characters are quirky and memorable, particularly James’ two kennel supervisors. The plotting is as careful and maybe even a little more streamlined than the author’s previous books. The presumably authentic background material, involving psychology, dog-training, police procedure, etc., is smoothly integrated into the story. And Crais is smart enough to keep the man-and-beast buddyness compelling without giving way to sentimentality. He even provides a credible dog’s POV into some events as they unfold. That reader MacLeod Andrews is able to successfully create the aural equivalent to Maggie’s thoughts is an indication of his admirable contribution to this audio presentation. He’s equally on target in conveying James’ moods—from an initial fragility, complete with self-doubt, guilt, and resentment, to a determination to bring order to his life. Andrews also manages to match Crais’ description of the high-pitched coo that dog owners employ when speaking to their animals without sounding too goofy. His one tiny misspeak is his mispronunciation of the name “Petievich,” but one can hardly fault him for that.