by Dana Mentink
Sarge chuckled. “We thought he’d make a great K-9 cop, but he promptly flunked out of the Queens training program because he has a bit of a focusing issue.” He sighed. “He just flunked out of a service-dog program, too, so it seems he’s not cut out for public service. Since he gets along okay with King, I suggested to Bradley that maybe he’d be helpful to have around. Maybe, you know...a good companion.”
Penny jerked a look at Sarge. “You brought him here for me?”
He nodded. “I will warn you he’s prone to misbehaving. I had him in my office just long enough for him to devour the bologna sandwich I had on my desk. Incredible the way he opened the plastic bag and snatched the contents like a first-class thief. I also have yet to replace the pile of chewed-up pencils he left for me. Now that you’ve been told about his criminal tendencies, do you think you’re up to the task?”
“I have no idea,” she said. “I’ve never owned a dog before.” She remembered as a child being completely infatuated with her daycare provider’s terrier named Mr. Bigsley, who would be brought to the facility on special occasions. Mr. Bigsley had played with her sometimes, when she was the only one left waiting for pickup. He seemed to be watching over her. A shudder started up in her spine when she considered that Randall had been watching, too. And he’d almost killed Tyler Walker while trying to get to her.
Scrappy blew a breath through his nostrils and pressed his face into her stomach while she massaged his neck. Such trust, she thought. Incredible how dogs could decide in a blink to whom they would hand over their hearts.
“I’m just not sure I’d be very good at owning a dog.”
Gavin considered for a moment. “He really needs someone to be his whole world, Penny.”
His whole world? Tears pricked her eyelids. How could she be that when her own world had just fractured into millions of sharp-edged pieces? Randall was back, and her universe had been shaken so badly she could hardly string two words together, let alone take on a naughty dog.
But Scrappy wiggled his behind and kept his warm wedge of a head pressed close to her as if to say, I am here to love you.
To love you.
“I—I guess I could give it a try,” she said.
Sarge smiled. “I was hoping you’d say that.”
She closed her eyes to stave off the tears. On her knees, she circled her arms around Scrappy’s sturdy neck and buried her nose in his fur. Too overwhelmed to speak, she hugged the dog and cried. Scrappy sat quietly and offered a gentle lick to her cheek. Instantly she knew she’d met the best friend she’d ever have.
With a soft click, Gavin gently closed the conference-room door and left her to share the moment with Scrappy. She suspected her boss felt sorry for her, and it made her cringe. She’d fought so long and hard to shed her “victim” identity. But in spite of the tidal wave of fear that threatened to overwhelm her, somehow she knew that this exuberant creature would remind her that she would never be alone as long as he was alive. Resolutely, she wiped her face and collected her wits. Scrappy wagged his tail in encouragement.
She got up and reached for the jar of dog treats in the cupboard, kept there in case a K-9 meeting went on a bit too long.
Scrappy watched her intently. “Okay, Scrappy. First lesson. Sit.” She said it with conviction, like she’d heard the cops do.
Scrappy immediately rolled over onto his back, legs paddling in the air. She laughed. “That’s not a sit.”
Scrappy looked so cute, she gave him the treat, anyway. He hopped to his feet and gobbled the biscuit. “We’ll work on that.”
Scrappy’s whole being broadcast such enthusiasm that she gave him another rubdown.
“Well, Scrappy, if we’re going to be best buddies, this office is going to become your second home. Let’s go get you settled in. I think I know where there’s an extra cushion if you’re not too picky.” He scrambled alongside her, nose quivering.
She hoped the presence of her new dog wouldn’t make her even more of a spectacle among her coworkers. Bad enough that there was now a brigade of officers constantly checking the house she shared with Bradley and plans afoot for an officer to bunk there whenever her brother was away. An alarm system was being installed that very afternoon under her brother’s watchful eye. They arrived at the check-in area after she retrieved the spare dog bed.
“This is my desk, Scrappy. What do you think?” She placed the dog cushion in a quiet spot next to the water cooler.
Scrappy sniffed around for a moment. He trotted to his cushion and dragged it into the leg space below her desk, circled three times and apparently found the accommodations suitable.
She gaped. “Well, where are my feet supposed to go?”
He answered with a tail wag.
Laughing, she sat in her chair and tucked her toes under the edge of his cushion. Comforted by his solid furry weight draped across her feet, she breathed in the pleasure of her neatly ordered work space. Stapler, just so, neatly framed picture of her and Bradley at his badge pinning and a lush indoor plant that Bradley had dubbed “Frondy.” Now that she had Scrappy for a desk mate, everything felt perfect.
The second pot of coffee was perking in the kitchen. The next shift of officers beelined straight for the coffee and creamers and helped themselves to her platter of cookies. She felt the knot of tension loosen ever so slightly as her routine duties absorbed her mental energy. Scrappy kept watch, ears swiveling, when he wasn’t snoring softly.
During her morning break, she even dove cautiously again into plans for the October open house, mulling over details as she let Scrappy have some exercise and a few treats. She’d decided there would be a pumpkin-decorating area as well as a craft table set up for the children.
“We’ll need the fat color crayons for the younger ones,” she murmured as she scribbled a note to herself back at her desk. It was Rain she was thinking of. The feel of her small hands in Penny’s, her high-pitched laughter, had awakened something unexpected. She’d never allowed herself to think of having her own children. That was far too idyllic a picture for a woman whose own parents had neglected and often forgotten about their children. With her lifelong struggles against insecurity and fear, she knew she was not proper mother material, but for some reason it was extremely satisfying to tend to Rain.
FBI Agent Caleb Black startled her from her thoughts. She jerked. A longtime member of the search team hunting Randall, Caleb held up a napkin-wrapped treat. “Sorry. I just wanted to thank you for the cookies. I came by to touch base with Gavin, and man was I happy to see your home-baked goodies.” He grinned. “Your treats are the best perk of having a temporary desk in this office.”
“You’re welcome. I...” Her voice trailed off as Tyler strolled through the door in jeans and a long-sleeved navy T-shirt. His temple sported a purplish bruise, but he looked much less haggard than before as he stood across the front counter from her.
Caleb quirked a grin. “What part of ‘off duty’ did you not grasp?”
“I’m not on duty. I was just in the neighborhood and I wanted to run something by you about Andy.”
Penelope knew that Tyler and Bradley had been working overtime chasing down a lead provided by young Lucy Emery, who’d shared that she missed her friend Andy. The elusive Andy might just be the witness who could provide information about whether or not Randall Gage had killed the Emerys.
Caleb cut off her thoughts. “And I thought you just came in because Penny baked your favorite cookies.”
Tyler inhaled deeply, eyes closed for a moment. For a quick moment, his face softened and he appeared younger. “Ah. That is the smell of those ginger cookies, isn’t it? The ones with the sugar crystals on top?”
“Yes, those are the ones.” Penny hadn’t realized the cookies she’d chosen to bake were Tyler’s favorites. Or had she remembered that, deep down? Was he lingering in her subconscious mind, too? She ha
dn’t been able to stop thinking about him lying in that hospital bed. His battered face emerged in her mind. She fiddled with her stapler.
Tyler’s gaze dropped. He let out a deep laugh, which further erased the weariness. “Easy, boy,” he said to Scrappy, who had come to stand on hind legs and peer at him over the edge of the counter, ears swiveling. “I’m a dog person, truly, but Dusty is out having her nails done so you might not recognize that.” Tyler stood still as Scrappy gave him an exploratory sniff and he slurped a tongue over Tyler’s offered hand.
“This is my new best friend, Scrappy,” she said as the shepherd mix resumed his spot at her feet. She buzzed Tyler through.
He met her eyes as he moved to her desk. “I’m glad you have a buddy.” His voice went soft. “How are you doing?”
“Fine, just fine.” She straightened the stapler again, feeling the rise of heat in her cheeks at his intense gaze.
Caleb finished his cookie. “I’ve got a few minutes to chat, Ty, but if Gavin sees you here, I’m going to say you forced me to talk to you at gunpoint. I don’t want any friction between the FBI and Brooklyn K-9 Unit.”
Tyler smiled. “Fair.”
She noted the tension in his wide shoulders. She realized he had not, in fact, let go of anything in spite of being ordered off duty.
Caleb headed off to the conference room but Tyler lingered. She could detect the fresh smell of shampoo from his hair.
“I just, er, I mean, wanted to thank you again for helping with Rain. She’s been asking about you, in fact.”
Penny looked away. “No problem. Is she doing okay?”
“Yes, except for her general misbehavior. The ear infection is better, and she felt well enough to flush a box of crayons down the toilet. That’s her new hobby. Flushing. The whole concept fascinates her. I think she’s going to be a plumber.”
Penny laughed. “I’ll make a note of that when I babysit her again.” She stopped abruptly. Had she said, “when” instead of “if”? Did he think she was insinuating she wanted him to ask her? As the heat threatened to paint her face in scarlet, Tyler spoke.
“Rain and I read about a million stories yesterday when I got sprung from the hospital, after I uncorked the crayon clog, but at bedtime she wanted to sing. My rendition of Johnny Cash’s top ten hits did not do the trick. You’ll have to teach me that bus song sometime, the one with the wheels and stuff.”
“I’d be happy to.”
“Okay. Uh, everything feel secure at your place?”
“Secure as Fort Knox.”
“As is should be. Precious material inside.”
Precious? Her? He seemed to be startled at what he’d said. “Well, anyway, gotta go get one of those cookies before Caleb fills his pockets.”
“I can always make more.”
“You’ll never find anyone here to try and dissuade you.”
He lingered.
She shuffled papers, still feeling his presence like the warmth from a lit torch, until her cell phone pinged. As she read the text message, she knocked over her tray, showering paper clips down upon Scrappy, who yelped.
She stared at the phone, unable to pull in a full breath. Terror pulsed through every muscle and nerve as she reread the text.
I almost got you. Next time, I’ll finish it.
* * *
Tyler saw Penny bolt to her feet. The rolling office chair shot backward and slammed into the water cooler. Scrappy scrambled up, whining and circling her ankles, as Tyler surged forward and took her by the shoulders. “What is it? Tell me.”
Her lips moved, but no words came out. Her face was bloodless. He walked her backward and settled her into the escaped chair. Scrappy pawed at her knees.
Tyler ignored the agitated animal. “Take a deep breath.” A tremor rippled through her body as he held onto her forearms. She shuddered. Several other officers moved closer.
“Ambulance?” Officer Lani Jameson asked, worried.
“I’m not sure,” Tyler said. “Give us a minute.”
Scrappy could take it no more. He leaped into Penny’s lap and shoved his nose to her neck. Her arms encircled him, and she tipped her cheek to graze along his ears. The dog seemed to poke through Penelope’s fear, and Tyler silently thanked the funny creature.
She looked up and pressed her phone into Tyler’s hand. He read the threatening text, and his gut hardened into iron.
Randall Gage.
Anger flashed hot through his bones as he thrust the phone at Lani.
Her voice was tight as she answered. “He never gives up, does he? I’ll call Eden.”
He brought Penny a glass of water and stayed close until the tech guru was summoned. Eden Chang chewed her lip as she examined the information on Penny’s cell phone.
“It was probably sent from the dark web again, like the first couple. I’ll research it, but I doubt it’s going to lead anywhere helpful. I’m sorry.”
He’d learned that the “dark web” was a whole vast network of encrypted online content that wasn’t indexed by search engines. Basically, it was a criminal’s paradise for buying credit-card numbers, all manner of drugs, guns, counterfeit money, stolen subscription credentials and software that allowed them to break into other people’s computers.
He put a hand on Penny’s shoulder, earning an ear swivel from Scrappy. “Come sit in the break room until you feel better, okay?”
She shook her head, straightened in the chair and scooted Scrappy to the floor. “It’s not time for my break yet.” Her voice quivered.
“That doesn’t matter. This is a unique circumstance.”
Her lips pressed into a thin line. “It does matter. I’m going to stay at my desk until my break. I have a bunch of work to catch up on and the monthly reports.”
“Don’t be silly—” he began.
Her mahogany eyes sparkled. “I am not being silly. I am going to do my job.” Each word was precise as cut glass.
That’s when he realized her hands were balled into fists on her thighs and the sparkle in those luminous eyes was the precursor to tears. Why had he used the word silly, as if she was a child? Right now she was fighting to hold onto her independence, to preserve some shred of dignity in the face of a monster who was determined to kill her. Work was her life preserver and he’d just minimized that. You’re a real sensitive guy, Tyler.
He stepped back a pace. “I’m sorry. I don’t think you’re silly. I was concerned, but I should not have said that.”
She nodded, body still stiff and taut as she stood, rolled her chair back into place and sat again. Scrappy trotted cheerfully to his self-appointed spot at her feet. He licked her ankle as he set up watch. “I’ll need to work on my reports now.” She gulped. “Please.”
The tiny stroke of desperation in that last word lanced an arrow right to his heart. He forced a smile. “Sure thing.”
She began to type on her computer, slim shoulders ramrod-straight. Anyone would think she was completely composed, save for the trembling of her fingers on the keys. Caleb walked over, clipping his phone to his belt. “I’ve got to take care of something on another case. We’ll have to talk later, Tyler.”
Noelle Orton joined them, her slight form made larger by the bulletproof vest. Her yellow Lab, Liberty, flapped her ears as she approached. The dog was a beautiful specimen with a distinctive black ear marking.
“I was talking to Eden when Lani called about the text.” Noelle gestured to Penny, brow wrinkled. “She okay?”
“She’s putting up a pretty good front.”
Caleb shook his head. “Guy murders her parents and comes after her and her brother twenty years later? I’m impressed she can even leave her house. She’s got amazing courage.”
Amazing courage, his mind echoed. Far beyond her years.
Gavin arrived and spoke quietly to Penny. His eyes na
rrowed as he caught sight of Tyler.
“Walker...”
Tyler raised his palms. “Not on duty. I promise.”
Gavin sighed. “Why am I not surprised? Meet me in my office and tell me what we have on this text.”
Tyler filled in Gavin and met with Eden with no tangible result. An hour later he checked on Penny again and called Bradley to bring him up to speed. He could hear his friend’s anger crackling in his tone.
“We gotta get him, Ty,” Bradley almost shouted. “He’s torturing my sister.”
“I know. We will.” Caleb approached as he ended the call.
“Bradley?”
Tyler nodded.
“How’s he taking the text?”
“Let’s just say his blood pressure is edging toward the roof.”
“No doubt.”
Caleb followed him down the hallway, and they ran into Noelle exiting her cubicle with Liberty at her side. Her expression was alive with excitement. “We got a tip on Holland.”
Tyler froze. Ivan Holland was the Coney Island drug smuggler who had put a bounty on Liberty’s head for messing with his operation. The dog had almost been run over in the latest attempt, along with Noelle, who had been walking her at the time. Everybody on the team was hankering to bust Holland for targeting a member of their police family.
“According to a tipster connected to Ivan’s crew, they’ve turned on him after he killed that informant. They don’t want to be a part of his police vendetta—it’s drawing too much attention. He’s got no one on his side now. Tipster tells me he’s been hanging around Flatbush.”
“When?”
“This morning.”
Tyler’s stomach rolled in anticipation. “Who’s talking to the locals?”
“I will,” Noelle said.
“I want to be in on it, too,” Tyler said.
“Nope,” Noelle said. “You’re not even supposed to be here.”
“I’ll come in an unofficial capacity. Help you take notes.” In fact, Tyler felt a burning desire to help Noelle bust Holland. It would be a big load off his plate and clear the way for him to devote most of his time to catching Randall.