Scent of Danger

by Judith Rochelle

  She’d taken herself out of the social circle after too manyabortive tries at a relationship with men who didn’t play well with strongwomen. They were either intimidated or challenged. Somehow she didn’t thinkRick Latrobe would be either.

  But training guard and security dogs was more than afull-time job and one that left little or no time for relationships. Herbusiness was thriving. That’s what she needed to focus on.

  * * * * *

  Rick deliberately hadn’t mentioned the isolated cabin inMaine the agency owned. He had no business at the moment leaving any doors openfor any type of relationship. The problems he was about to dump on the agency’splatter would take all of his resources. But holy Hannah. Every cell in hisbody had stood at attention when he’d felt the softness of her against him, herbreasts pressed into him. He could have lost himself in those eyes, emeraldgreen with licks of golden fire in them. And hair that he wanted to tug looseand run his fingers through.

  Not now, idiot. Right now you have no time for anythingexcept the problems at hand.

  But for damn sure when he got things under control he wasgoing to find out from Harry exactly where in Maine his granddaughter lived.And take a trip up to the cabin.

  Mike had jogged over to where a row of vehicles was parked.Now he pulled up next to Rick in a black SUV and waved for Rick to climb intothe passenger seat. He glanced at Rick as they drove through the gate and outonto the road that circled the field.

  “Harry’s granddaughter’s a real dish, isn’t she?” He hadtrouble keeping the laughter out of his voice. “Lucky you, having her fall intoyour arms.”

  Rick grunted. “Unfortunately the last thing on my mind rightnow is any female, especially this one. Even if I did want to put her in mypocket and take her home with me. We’ve got big problems, Michael. And I sensemore coming.”

  He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, trying togather his thoughts to brief his partners about the mess they were all in. Evenso, he couldn’t wipe away the image of the slender redhead and her unusual dog.

  * * * * *

  Kelly maneuvered through the traffic, finally reaching theon ramp for I-95. She wasn’t looking forward to the long drive ahead but flyingwith Xena wasn’t an option. So she’d driven from the top of the states to thebottom to spend a week in Key West with two friends. The vacation had beenwonderful. Sun, snorkeling, doing the Duval Crawl to all the pubs on the maindrag. But now she was making the trek home, facing long hours on the road.

  Maybe she could entertain herself with images of RickLatrobe. Yum! She seldom took this kind of notice of men anymore. Especiallyone like this. She’d learned they wanted the very feminine type, small andcuddly. All the things she was not. So fantasizing about him was a pure wasteof time.

  But even with exhaustion written all over him, no woman withbreath in her body could ignore this man. At least six two, his muscular framewas evident in the jeans and t-shirt he wore. Tiny spikes of golden hair,lighter than the sun-streaked blond mane that covered his head, peeked over theneckline of the shirt. And those eyes. Even rimmed with fatigue they were themost startling blue she’d ever seen.

  Idly she wondered what he’d look like completely naked.Would his muscles be as sculpted as they hinted they’d be? Would the softgolden hair cover his body? And what would his—

  Stop that!

  She gritted her teeth and shook her head. It wasn’t evenlikely that they would see each other ever again, so why was she having eroticthoughts about him?

  Again she puzzled over Xena’s strange reaction to this man.Unless properly trained, Caucasian Ovcharkas could exhibit ferocious andunmanageable tendencies. They distrusted people they didn’t know and had apowerful urge to defend their owners. Many people claimed they had psychicabilities and Kelly could testify to that. She believed it herself. She’d readthe research. Certain types of animals could sense impending danger, or thedeath or impending harm of a loved one.

  She could definitely certify the urge to defend that wasinherent in the dog. Twice when she’d been crossing a street Xena had leaped atleast eight feet from her truck to knock her away from a car just turning acorner. Then there was the time a poacher had wandered onto the land around herfarmhouse. She’d been taking a walk with Xena, stretching her muscles afterworking with the dogs all day. The man had been a good six feet away, hidden bytrees.

  She didn’t know who was more startled, she or the man withthe rifle, when Xena launched himself across the huge space between them,knocked the man down and clamped his teeth on his throat.

  “Better than any man,” she muttered.

  Xena gave two short barks, her own signal for the word “no”.

  Oh, yeah? Well, you’re wrong.

  In the years she and Xena had been together, she’ddiscovered they could communicate almost silently, or with hand signals. Nomatter what skeptics might say, she knew they could read each other’s minds. Likeright now. She knew exactly what Xena was thinking.

  And I didn’t appreciate that little act of yours at theairfield.

  If I were human I’d jump on that man in a minute. SinceI’m not, I just tried to give you a little help in that direction.

  I can do without the help, thank you very much. Besides,I doubt I’ll ever see him again, so just back off and don’t do me any morefavors.

  I think you’re wrong. I have a very strong feeling hemight become an important part of your life. Of our lives.

  Yeah, right. She tweaked Xena’s nose. Shut up andlet me drive.

  But when she slid a quick glance in the dog’s direction, sheswore Xena was grinning at her, her eyes flooding with good humor. She couldn’thelp laughing. But as she moved into the passing lane to pull away from a clumpof traffic, she wondered idly if Xena was right and she and Rick Latrobe wouldindeed see each other again.

  * * * * *

  They’d been at it for an hour, the five men who formed thepartnership of Phoenix and they didn’t seem to be any further ahead than whenthey started.

  “So the weapons are just disappearing?” Dan Romeo, CEO ofthe agency, asked for perhaps the tenth time.

  “Jesus, Dan.” Rick dry-washed his face. “How many differentways do you want me to answer you? Yes, they keep disappearing in smallamounts. As if someone thinks we won’t notice. Either that, or they’re testingour reaction and waiting to see what we’ll do.”

  “And Jordan insists it’s kids pilfering them, right?”

  Greg Jordan was the man Phoenix had hired to ramrod theiroperation in Iraq. Mike D’Antoni, another partner, had served with him andrecommended him as someone who could keep a tight rein on the securityoperations they’d set up for Grainger Caldwell. The problem seemed to be thatsmall amounts of arms shipped over for the security force were disappearing ona regular basis and no one seemed to know how or when.

  Dan looked at Mike. “Maybe this guy’s not as good as youthought, Mikey.”

  D’Antoni glared at him. “You don’t think I’ve asked myselfabout that a hundred times since Rick called about this mess? But I’m tellingyou, I checked him out six ways from Sunday. If there’s anything wrong, he’sbetter at hiding it than we are at finding it out.”

  “How many guards does he have in the warehouse?” Dan asked.

  “He says three at all times.” Rick rubbed his face again.“And that was the drill while I was there. I spot checked it several times.”

  “Don’t forget, half the security force they hired over thereis Iraqi. Who knows how many rotten apples there are in the barrel.”

  “We’ve had some help picking and choosing but what can Isay? This thing was a mess from Day One.”

  Mark Halloran drummed his fingers on the table. “Well, youbabysat this load and spent five days there training their guys in newprocedures. Where do you think we stand?”

  Rick stood up, stretched his cramped muscles and went to thesideboard to refill his coffee mug. He was still plagued by whatever it is hewas trying to remember and couldn’t get a hold on.

/>   “You have to picture the situation,” he explained. “GraingerCaldwell is working out of a trailer at BIAP—Baghdad International Airport.They commandeered one of the hangars to stash all their equipment, includingthe construction machines. Their guys—security and construction workers—live ina building they threw up in five minutes right next to the hangar. Securityworks in shifts at the hangar and at the construction sites. But they aren’tthe only ones at BIAP.”

  “I know, I know.” Dan was doodling on the pad in front ofhim. “We knew going in that almost everyone with a piece of the pie in Iraqwould be headquartered there. Are you saying you think some of them arestealing the arms?”

  Rick shrugged. “I’m not saying anything except the nextshipment going over there is the big one. I’ve given these guys as muchtraining as I can. Now it’s up to Jordan to implement it. And they definitely needwhat we’re sending them.”

  “Including the three Humvees with the roof cut out for thegunner,” Mark reminded everyone.

  “Here’s what I think.” Rick looked at everyone in the room.“I think something’s going on and we’ve just seen the tip of the iceberg. Wedrew straws and I got to honcho this gig so whatever goes wrong is in my lap.We’ve got a C-130J chartered to take the load over. I’m going with it becausemy internal radar is sending me funny signals.”

  And also because of my contact who warned me that thismight be going to happen.

  “Who’s flying?” Troy Arsenault, the fifth member of theteam, wanted to know.

  “I took care of the charter,” Mike answered. “Ed and I willbe in the cockpit.”

  Ed was Dan’s brother and one of the team’s two pilots.

  “Do you think you’ll need a medic?” That was one of Troy’smany contributions to the agency.

  “Jesus.” Rick shook his head. “I hope not.”

  “All right.” Dan pushed the pad of paper away from him. “Butlet’s keep the departure and arrival strictly under wraps. That way we have noleaks. Call Jordan on the satellite phone and give him a five-day window. Thendecide when you want to go.”

  The one thing Rick hadn’t mentioned was something he’dspotted on Greg Jordan’s desk that lurked in the back of his mind, hiding. Hecouldn’t remember what it was, only that it had set off alarm bells. But whenhe wanted to ask Jordan about it, whatever it was had disappeared. Now for thelife of him he couldn’t call it up and it was driving him nuts.

  “All right.” He drained the last of his coffee. “The firstthing I need to do is get some sleep. I’ll get on it first thing in themorning. And Dan? In the next couple of days I want to talk to Faith and Miaabout a very interesting dog.”

  * * * * *

  Two men, Hosni and Malik, sat nervously in the van with theblacked out windows, engine idling, watching the building where Phoenix had itsoffices. From the gas station just at the edge of the interstate they had agood view of everything that was happening. They would have preferred to bewaiting in the parking lot but that was out of the question. The fence waselectrified and guarded by both men and dogs.

  “I wonder how the other tenants feel about this excessivesecurity,” Hosni, the driver, mused.

  “What makes you think they would object?” Malik asked. “Theycould be renting there because they need this, also.”

  “Perhaps we should just take out the whole building,” Hosnijoked.

  “And perhaps Gabir would take off your head. You know hedoesn’t want anything that would draw that much attention.”

  “Just joking, just joking.” Hosni lit one of the thincigarillos he favored. “I still think we should have picked a better place forthis.”

  “Not if we want to make it look like an accident.” Malikjabbed the driver in the ribs. “Here he comes now.”

  The dark green pickup exited the guard gate, drove down theroad leading away from the building and headed for the interstate. Hosnicranked the ignition and pulled out of the gas station, falling right in behindthe pickup. He maneuvered the van just to the left rear of the pickup while hispassenger lowered his window scant inches and propped the barrel of his gun onthe edge of the glass.

  “Now,” Hosni ordered.

  The gun spat its entire clip of bullets into the pickup’srear tires just as the driver hit the truck’s rear bumper, forcing it into thestreaming lane of traffic. It hit a gray sedan, bounced off and into anotherpickup, then spun around. They could see Rick Latrobe wrestling with the wheel,trying to gain control of his vehicle. Other cars were sliding into each othertrying to avoid the mess.

  Two heavy trucks, pushing the speed limit, saw the pickupbut were unable to stop and slammed into it, shoving it into the concrete wall.As the van pulled away they saw the pickup flip over as it bounced off thefront of the second truck.

  “He’s done,” Malik said.

  “At least out of commission,” the driver agreed.

  He merged smoothly into traffic, confident that no one hadpaid attention to his part in the accident .

  Chapter Two

  Mark had started for his office to call his wife, Troy andMike were discussing a possible new client and Dan had just walked into hisoffice when his phone rang.

  “Mr. Romeo? This is Graham at the guard gate.”

  Dan snapped his fingers to catch Mark’s attention andmouthed Hold on. The guard never called unless there was trouble.

  “Yes, Graham.”

  “You’d better get down here to the interstate. There’s a bigpileup at the onramp and Mr. Latrobe’s right in the middle of it. I thinkhe’s—”

  Whatever else he would have said was cut off as Dan slammedthe phone down, already heading toward the elevator. “Get the others. Rick’s introuble.”

  The interstate was a mess. Vehicles everywhere. Some uprightbut smashed and dented. A couple of them lying on their side. People runningeverywhere, screaming, shouting. By the time they pulled up in Mike’s SUV, theMaryland Highway Patrol was already on the scene and with the help of towtrucks that made their way along the inside shoulder, had managed to clear alittle space. The local fire department was also there, as well as twoambulances with a third squeezing through that narrow lane.

  “Fast response,” Troy commented.

  Mark nodded at the gas station. “My guess is the owner overthere called it in right away.”

  They spotted Rick’s truck but getting to it was a majorproblem, what with all the traffic backup behind the scene of the wrecks.Rick’s truck looked as if it had been through a mixer and both rear tires wereblown. They could see him hanging upside down, still strapped into his seatbelt. From the distance it was impossible to tell if he was even alive, letalone conscious.

  Mike pulled over on the shoulder as close as he could getand they hoofed it the rest of the way, ignoring people who tried to stop them.Troy carried his emergency medical kit with him.

  Dan, who was out of the vehicle even before Mike hadcompletely stopped, heaved a small sigh of relief when he saw a familiar face.

  Capt. Holden Jennings of the Maryland HP, in civilianclothes, was standing next to a fireman hosing down Rick’s pickup. Through anumber of situations he and the men of Phoenix had become good friends whorespected each other. He turned when Dan, having pushed his way througheveryone, touched his elbow.

  “I figured you guys would be here any second,” Jenningssaid.

  “I didn’t think they called out the top brass for highwayspileups,” Dan commented.

  “I was on my way home from a meeting and when I got caughtin this.” He waved his hand at the long lines of traffic standing still behindhim. “Recognized Rick right away.”

  Dan kept his voice level even though every nerve in his bodywas screaming. “Can you tell yet how he is?”

  “One of my guys managed to look through the window beforethey started to spray. He couldn’t reach in there but he saw a littlemovement.” He looked at Dan. “They could see where the gas line ruptured sowe’re foaming the tank. We’ll be done in a minute and then we’ll get him out.” />
  That turned out to be the longest minute of Dan’s life. Atlast the firemen backed away and two of the highway patrolman used a crowbar topry the driver’s door open. People were yelling all around them and the EMTswere attending to the other wounded as fast as they could. But Dan wasconcerned with only one person.

  He felt a nudge at his elbow and turned to see Troy, holdingup the medical bag.

  “As soon as that door is loose I’ll get in there,” he said.

  If not for Holden Jennings, Troy would have played hellgetting anywhere near Rick. As soon as the door was pried open Troy was rightthere, gently prodding Rick for broken bones, checking his pulse. One of themany EMTs now on the scene moved up next to him and handed him a cervicalcollar, which he placed around Rick’s neck with great care.

  “Hey, buddy,” he said in a soft voice. “You with me?”

  Rick groaned and blinked his eyes.

  “Yeah, I bet you hurt like a son of a bitch.” Troy turned tothe EMT who was still next to him. “I’m going to unsnap the seat belt. Can youget in here and be ready to catch his weight?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Troy checked to make sure the collar was in place, moved tomake room for the EMT and pressed the release catch on the seat belt. Rickslumped downward and the EMT caught him gently, preventing him from falling.

  “I think we can ease him out,” he told Troy.

  “Okay. On three.”

  Together they maneuvered the body until it was out of the truckand shifted it to a waiting gurney. Troy allowed the EMT to do histhing—checking vitals, checking for broken bones, calling into home base forinstructions—but he was right beside him checking everything. Finally he turnedto Dan and the others.

  “He’s probably got a couple of cracked ribs and maybe afractured wrist. I don’t know about internal injuries yet but the only blood Isee is from the cuts on his face. And he’s got a whale of a bump on his head.”He grinned. “Good thing it’s so hard.”

  “He may have internal bleeding,” the EMT warned, as theyopened his shirt. “His got some ungodly bruises from the seat belt and maybethe steering wheel.”