Cornered in Conard County

by Rachel Lee

  “Not nearly as much as I used to cart in Seattle. There’s actually room for the groceries.”

  He brought Dasher as well as Flash, probably because he needed his dog for work the next day. He’d also brought a sleeping bag.

  She couldn’t have begun to say why that made her feel cheated. She wanted no involvements, she didn’t trust anyone except Betty and she was just beginning to trust Cadell.

  No, it was best this way. Having him there would make her feel safer. Any more than that was a risk she didn’t yet dare take.

  Even if she felt the constant irritant of desire when he was around.

  * * *

  OVER THE NEXT DAYS, Dory and Cadell settled into a routine of sorts. She began working a little less during the daylight hours, instead driving herself out to spend time with him at his ranch as he trained dogs and tended the ostriches.

  She thought he’d die of laughter when she told him she’d named the birds Itsy and Bitsy. Well, she was smiling more, too.

  Except when she looked out over the wide-open spaces. Deep in her bones, she felt George was coming, that her fear was no figment of her imagination. Not since Cadell had mentioned her inheritance. People had killed for a lot less money.

  A nugget of real anger had begun to burn in her, however. That man had destroyed her childhood, had blighted her life, and now he wanted to steal more. She was sure of it. If he’d cared about her at all, he’d have left instead of killing their parents. He wouldn’t have taken them from her.

  Ergo, he didn’t care. Not at all. It was all about George.

  The anger felt empowering, reducing her fear bit by bit. She knew the terror would return; it always had. But for now anger was a great reprieve. When she was out at the ranch with Cadell, she channeled that energy into working with the dogs, helping where she could. Daily she grew increasingly impressed with how much labor and patience went into training the dogs. Cadell wouldn’t settle for half measures. These dogs would be walking with someone carrying a badge, and no one could afford the least miscalculation or misbehavior.

  Most of the dogs were simply eager to please and did what was required of them. They were happy knowing their good behavior would be rewarded by playtime.

  But one, a week later, failed the course.

  “It’s killing me,” he told her as they watched a Malinois dash around the backyard. “He’s going to have to go.”

  “Why? Are you going to put him down?” A new kind of horror filled her. She had grown attached to all these dogs.

  “Of course I’m not going to put him down.” He spoke almost sharply, then softened his tone. “No, nothing like that. But I can’t curb his energy sufficiently. He’s stubborn, and while all the things I teach these dogs should be fun for them, he keeps rewriting the rules. I’ll wind him down a bit, and then he’ll be suitable for a pet.”

  Considering she had been consistently amazed by how hard these dogs tried to please, she was surprised that any of them would fail the course. But when she thought about it, it made sense. One of the other things she’d learned from working beside Cadell was that the dogs had their own quite distinct personalities.

  Cadell touched her arm, and a ribbon of pleasure ran through her. “It’s okay, Dory. Not every dog is cut out for police work. Or rescue work. Just like some aren’t cut out to be service dogs.”

  That sparked interest in her. “Do you teach service dogs, too?”

  “Sometimes. That’s a really special skill, though, so I don’t do it often.”

  “I don’t get it.”

  “It’s simple. Service dogs need a lot of in-depth special training, and they have to be individually trained to serve a particular kind of companion. It’s better to have someone familiar with all that do the job. But service dogs are expensive. Not everybody can afford one, and not everyone can be supplied by a charity. So occasionally, I do it. It’s a hell of a lot bigger job than what I usually do. In many cases it’s a matter of teaching dogs to do things they don’t normally do. Whereas a police or rescue dog...the talent is pretty much innate for that kind of work. It’s mostly a matter of directing it.”

  She laughed then. “And making sure they listen.”

  He winked and looked back at the corral. The dog was still running around, chasing and tossing the tennis ball for his own amusement. Itsy and Bitsy watched from their pen, their huge dark eyes intent.

  “Now watch,” Cadell said. “This is part of the problem.” He whistled and called the dog’s name. The animal looked at him, then went back to the tennis ball. “See? Two months and I still can’t get him to come reliably. He’ll make a couple of kids happy, but I can’t send him out with an officer. Most of the time just won’t work for them.”

  Later he persuaded her to stop at the diner for supper, although she wasn’t entirely comfortable with being out in public. Dang, she thought, this man was pulling her out of her comfortable hidey-hole whether she wanted it or not.

  But she felt safe going with Cadell, which worried her. Was she turning him into another bubble around herself, a safe place that held everything else at bay?

  Troubled, she hardly said anything throughout the meal. She put down a hamburger and fries and didn’t taste a thing.

  She was a psychological mess. Nothing had ever completely sorted her out, but so far she’d managed not to hurt anyone else with it.

  After dinner, he insisted on paying the bill, then surprised her again. “Let’s go over to the sheriff’s office.”

  She balked on the sidewalk. “Why?”

  “You don’t think I’m the only one trying to track down your brother, do you? I’ve asked for some help. I don’t know about you, but I’d feel a whole lot better if we could pinpoint his location. Come on, nobody bites, and everyone would like to be sure you’re safe.”

  Her temper flared. “Who gave you the right to discuss me with anyone?”

  He put his hands on his hips, tilted his head and simply looked at her. God, he looked good in that blue shirt, jeans snug on his narrow hips, a cowboy hat shadowing his head. So good. Why the hell was she trying to start a fight?

  But she hadn’t given him permission to make her problems public, and it troubled her that other people knew. Even police officers.

  “If you want me to apologize for protecting you,” he said, “then I will. But I won’t mean it, and you’ll know it. So what’s the point, Dory?”

  “It’s having so many people know about me! I don’t like it.”

  “They’re cops,” he said, an edge of frustration creeping into his voice. “They know how to keep things secret. Not a one of them is going to gossip about you or your brother. Not here, not ever. Unlike the rest of this town, they know how to zip their lips about matters like this.”

  She couldn’t speak, the turmoil inside her was so great. She felt as if she’d been left exposed in plain sight, tied out like a goat.

  “Dory, you can’t face this alone. You don’t need to.”

  She’d had enough. She never should have come to this benighted town. Letting Betty talk her into coming here had been a huge mistake. Painful layers had been stripped from her once again. Her privacy. Her small sense of security. Even her coworkers had helped expose her.

  George. She should have just hit the road and kept moving on a regular basis. The idea that she could now ever stay in one place seemed like insanity.

  Without a word, she opened the back door of Cadell’s truck and took Flash out. He’d been sitting in there in a wire cage with the windows open. Now, glad to be free, he jumped down eagerly.

  “Flash, heel.” She grabbed his leash and hooked it to his collar, then started walking home.

  Alone.

  Because alone was the safest way to be. The only way to survive.

  Chapter Ten

/>   “Damn it,” Cadell said under his breath. Had he really done something wrong by trying to trace her brother? Evidently she thought so. But it was the kind of thing he’d have done for anyone as a cop, and usually people were grateful for the interest and possible help.

  She was one confusing woman. Life had seriously wounded her, and he wasn’t sure that she was able to be truly rational when it came to George. Well, of course she wasn’t. None of this was about reason. It was about gut feelings. He ought to know that.

  After a moment’s debate, he hopped into his vehicle and drove the half block to the sheriff’s offices on the corner. A parking space awaited him, and he slid into it a little too fast. Then he walked into the station, where he was greeted by the dispatcher, a new hire who’d started only the month before over the old dispatcher’s objections. He gathered that Velma, who’d been with the department longer than anyone could remember, felt she was the only one who knew how to do the job properly, which had caused a parade of new hires to quit over the years. Duty officers had often had to fill in the excess hours. Harriet, the new woman, was at least adequate, although Cadell was already wondering how long she’d last with Velma constant carping at her.

  “Gage?” he asked.

  “In his office,” Harriet answered. “Getting ready to leave.”

  Gage had an open-door policy, so Cadell didn’t hesitate to walk himself back and knock. Gage looked up from the papers he was straightening, his burn-scarred face offering a crooked smile. “Hey. What’s going on?”

  “Apart from me stepping knee-deep into a pile of manure, nothing. I’ve got one less dog I’m going to train—wrong temperament. I’ll have a couple more sometime next week.”

  Gage pointed to the chair. “And?”

  “The manure, you mean?”

  “Obviously.”

  Cadell didn’t want to sit. “Dory Lake is furious with me for bringing you in on her problem, and she’s walking home alone with her dog, Flash.”

  “The one you trained?”

  “Yes.”

  Gage nodded. “Then she should be safe enough.” But that didn’t keep him from reaching for a radio. Five minutes later he had both deputies and city police officers advised to keep an unobtrusive eye on Dory Lake as she walked home. “Make sure she doesn’t know.”

  The tension inside Cadell eased.

  After a moment, Gage spoke. “She doesn’t have any reason to trust us, you know. I read her case. Sure, cops took care of her after she ran out of that abattoir that had been her home, but I gather she hasn’t trusted much since.”

  “No,” Cadell admitted. “I may have blown it entirely, but I’ll head over there in a little while and try to mend the fences.”

  Gage rocked back in his chair. “That’s up to you.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Exactly what I said. If you want to mend fences, mend them. I tried to call earlier, but you didn’t answer. It seems her brother bought a bus ticket to Miami. Last week.”

  “So he’s headed the other way.”

  “Uh, not yet. He never used the ticket.”

  Cadell closed his eyes. “Hell.”

  “Misdirection? Maybe. I’ve asked my counterpart in Florida to keep an eye out for him, but if he never went there...”

  “I get it.” Cadell stood up. “Thanks, Gage.”

  “You might not want to wait,” Gage said as Cadell was walking out. “Don’t give her time to raise the drawbridge over the moat.”

  Cadell paused and looked back. “You’re troubled, too?”

  “Let’s just say from what I read, I wouldn’t put anything past George Lake. Not even murdering his sister. She may have every reason to be terrified.”

  * * *

  DORY DIDN’T WANT to answer the knock at her door. She’d been vaguely aware that there seemed to be more than the usual number of police cars on the streets, and one corner of her mind wondered what was coming down.

  But Flash’s tail told her who was at the door. At the moment she wouldn’t have opened it for anyone without knowing who was there. She needed to get a peephole installed, she thought vaguely, but right now there was no threat outside, simply Cadell.

  She wasn’t sure she wanted to see him ever again. She felt exposed, like a raw nerve ending, and it was his fault. Her past haunted her, not only within her own mind and heart, but everywhere else, it seemed. She’d had to tell her coworkers about her brother, which she’d never wanted to do, and now Cadell had broadcast it. So what if only other officers knew about it? She couldn’t manage to hide from it, no matter what she did.

  Flash danced a little from side to side, impatient. The slightest begging whimper escaped him. Damn it.

  She opened the door at last. Flash did a little happy dance, then immediately sat, realizing he was in danger of breaking his rules. Not that Dory cared. She hadn’t put him on duty yet.

  Cadell looked somber, standing there with his hands at his sides. “May I come in?”

  She wanted to slam the door in his face but caught herself in time. Just because the rest of the world was going insane around her didn’t mean she had to, as well. Anyway, she was already crazy enough.

  “Sure.” She stepped back, letting him pass. Flash wiggled a bit in his seated position, hoping for a pat. He got one from Cadell as she closed the door.

  She led the way to the shoddy living room and let him have the couch. She had her doubts about the wooden rocking chair holding him for long. It barely held her.

  “I ran into your neighbor out front. Marissa Tremaine. Have you met her?”

  What did this have to do with anything? “Not yet.” And with the urge to pack up and move on growing stronger in her, she doubted she was going to meet anyone.

  “Her first husband was killed overseas a few years ago. She lives in that big house across the street with her new husband and child. It’s nice to see her happy again.”

  Point? She wondered where he was going with all of this. So what if that woman was happy again? Happiness had eluded Dory most of her life. Oh, here and there she’d run into it, but it didn’t last long. Somehow it felt disrespectful. All the therapy hadn’t changed that, either.

  “Look,” he said, “I’m sorry I upset you, but I’m not sorry that I spoke to the sheriff about this. All he can access is public records.”

  Her lips tightened a bit, but she nodded. Public records? Anyone could get those if they looked.

  “Anyway, it turned out to be useful. He found that your brother purchased a bus ticket last week from Saint Louis to Miami.”

  Tension hissed out of her like the leaking of a balloon. “He’s headed away.”

  “We don’t know that. The ticket hasn’t been used.”

  That was all it took. Tension once again gripped her, winding around her every nerve ending. “Damn it,” she muttered. “Damn him.” She looked at Cadell. “He’s not stupid.”

  “Nobody’s counting on him being stupid. The sheriff has someone in Miami keeping an eye out for him, but if he uses the bus ticket, we should hear quickly.”

  “But he could give the ticket to anyone!”

  “These days you can’t travel by bus without ID. I doubt his prison ID would pass muster for anyone else unless he can find a near-identical twin. Regardless, he found the money to buy the ticket. I’m wondering what else he’s been up to.”

  “Stealing,” she snapped. “What he used to do all the time. I’m surprised he’s not leaving a string of police reports in his wake. Oh, wait...he’s probably being careful not to be noticed. So we really don’t know anything.”

  “I’m afraid not.”

  But she saw that he didn’t really believe this was nothing. No. She closed her eyes. “He tried to lay a false trail. He’s coming here.”

  Cadel
l didn’t immediately answer her. When he did, it was clear he was choosing his words carefully. “We can’t know that based on just one thing.”

  Her eyes snapped open. “Tell me you don’t really believe that.”

  His frown deepened, and he rose from the couch, pacing the small room, seeming to nearly fill it with his presence. She easily imagined that everywhere he went he made rooms feel small. “We can’t know that,” he repeated. “But it’s suspicious enough to put me on alert. I’m sure the sheriff feels the same.”

  “Well, thank you for that.”

  He stopped and stared directly at her. “Meaning?”

  She’d been extremely sarcastic, and she really hadn’t meant to be. Or maybe she had. “Sometimes I feel as if people just dismiss me as crazy. I’ve felt that way for years. Well, I am a little crazy, I suppose. Untrusting, afraid of shadows...even when George was in prison, I didn’t feel entirely safe. It just wasn’t something I could explain. I guess I don’t need to explain it anymore.”

  “Of course not. Anyway, I don’t think you’re crazy. What happened to you as a child was bound to have a long-term impact. I’d be amazed if it hadn’t. Then there’d be something wrong with you.”

  Unexpected gratitude filled her, washing away the last of her irritation with him. “I’m sorry,” she said finally.

  “For what?”

  “For getting so mad at you. You were right, you were only trying to protect me. I’m not used to that.”

  He shook his head a little. “I should have asked you first. I was high-handed, and I know it.”

  “The cop?” she said, allowing a little amusement to slip into her dark internal places.

  He smiled faintly. “The cop,” he agreed. “I have this thing about taking charge.”

  She rose from the rocker. There was little room to put between them, and other feelings began to niggle at her. Among them an overpowering desire for him, to put aside everything for just one night. She’d given in to that urge only a couple of times in her life and had learned how rarely it turned out well. But Cadell...since the beginning something about him had been calling to her on multiple levels. She wanted his friendship, though, and after what he’d said about his marriage, she doubted he’d be interested in anything more. Even though he’d mentioned it...