“So, where’s Tristan this morning?” Sophie asked.
“Investigating a possible arson in a seasonal cabin,” Louise explained. “Probably vandalism. City kids think it’s fun to come out here and do things they’d never try at home, as if we’re too rural to figure things out.”
Sophie nodded and looked over the room with its scattered desks, some of which had to be shared due to space and funding. “We do have an advantage right now,” she said. “Once Carrie’s in custody, I wonder if Marian Foxcroft’s money will stop coming in to fund us.” Just as she finished speaking she noticed Ellen Foxcroft in the background and apologized. “Oops. Sorry, Ellen. I didn’t mean to sound disrespectful. How is your mom? Any better?”
Ellen smiled wistfully. “The specialists keep saying she’ll come out of the coma soon. She’s been showing hopeful signs.”
“Good. I’m so glad. How’s your special guy, Lee Earnshaw?”
“Going back to school to become a veterinarian,” Ellen said, beginning to beam with pride.
“That’s wonderful. He was so good with dogs when we met in the Prison Pups program.”
“Good can come out of anything, right? Even Lee being framed for something he didn’t do. I think Veronica would finally be proud of her brother.”
The mention of her murdered predecessor, Veronica Earnshaw, dampened Sophie’s mood. Phoenix sensed the change immediately and became more subdued.
“Well, I guess we’d all better get back to work before the chief catches us gabbing,” Sophie said, trying to appear lighthearted. She looked around for one more rookie. “Where’s Tristan going after he finishes investigating the fire?”
“Probably to make sure his teenage sister stays out of trouble,” someone joked.
Sophie felt a smile coming on and encouraged it. “I never got into trouble when I was a kid.”
She hadn’t noticed Ryder entering the office so when he said, “What did you do, save it all for now?” she whirled. Her cheeks warmed. She barely managed, “Morning, Chief.”
He nodded and proceeded to his office. Sophie figured this was a good time to make her exit, so she headed for the training center, a quarter of a mile up the street from the police station.
The aroma of freshly brewed coffee told her that Gina had stopped there before joining Shane at the DVPD. The gentle, auburn-haired, junior trainer was a perfect foil for Sophie’s personality. They were a much better fit than either of them had been with Veronica. Nevertheless, the deceased woman had been great with dogs. It was her approach to humans that had been hard to take.
Sophie took her time, checked phone messages, followed up on some donations of young dogs she was considering and sipped a cup of hot coffee. All the while, Phoenix lay at her feet, tucked into the knee space beneath her desk.
The officers and rookies had unanimously decided to turn the upstairs apartment into a break area and storage after Veronica’s murder. Sophie certainly didn’t want to live there when she was well settled in the house on Second Street. Besides, they needed the extra room for equipment. One thing on her to-do list this morning was fitting Phoenix with a work vest and harness to see if they made any difference in his behavior.
As soon as she completed her paperwork she rinsed her cup, put it away with the others and led the dog upstairs. Even with the AC running, the rooms were stuffy. She’d have opened a window for ventilation if she’d arrived earlier. By now, it was too hot. Outside temps climbed fast in summer and fall, even though desert nights tended to be cool.
Boxes of collars, harnesses and vests were stashed in the main closet. It didn’t take Sophie’s trained eye long to choose the correct size working vest and fit it to the Australian shepherd. He didn’t act pleased.
“Hey, buddy, you have to wear your badge and patches or you’ll look just like every other cute pet out there,” Sophie lectured, keeping her tone mellow. She ruffled his ears and patted his head. “Come on. Time to practice.”
Phoenix threw himself to the floor and rolled onto his back.
Not good. She straightened and exerted control by voice, stature and actions. “Phoenix, heel.”
Although he did stand, his head was hanging. If he’d had a tail he’d have tucked it between his legs.
Sophie began to walk away as if she fully expected him to behave. He did. Up to a point. By the time they reached the ground floor Phoenix had almost caught up to her.
Pausing in front of the door to the training yard, she waited for him to sit at her side. When he eased his rear down as if being asked to sit on cactus needles, she almost laughed. Poor guy. He wanted to be good but instinctive fear kept him from it, and until he was over that, there was no use setting up a search and rescue scenario.
The dog lover in her wanted to hug away his fears but she knew that wouldn’t help. If she demonstrated concern she’d only reinforce his reluctance to perform.
“Heel,” she said firmly, stepping out into the training yard.
Head drooping, he nevertheless obeyed. That was a good sign. It meant he was willing to follow her into unfamiliar territory. Score one point for the trainer.
Sophie marched around the obstacles in the large yard, keeping Phoenix at her side. Few commands were necessary. Even better, he was no longer acting as if he was being led to his own execution. He wasn’t exactly jubilant but at least he looked reasonably self-assured.
She took out a canvas training toy and waved it at him. His eyes brightened. Paws danced. Stubby tail wagged.
“Aha. You do remember, don’t you, boy.”
She unclipped the leash, told him to sit, then gave him the toy as a reward. The change was complete. Phoenix was happy again. Deliriously so. He did want to work. And he did want his reward for doing so.
Sophie was so engrossed in watching the new dog play, she failed to pay attention to her surroundings.
Phoenix suddenly dropped his toy at her feet and growled. It took Sophie several seconds to figure out he was looking through the chain-link fence at a dark-colored car slowly passing in the street. There was no reason for him to be concerned so she reprimanded him. “No.”
The dog was not deterred. His snug vest kept his hackles from rising visibly but there was no doubt he was being protective.
She shaded her eyes with one hand. The car came to a full stop. The driver’s window rolled down. Something was sticking out the opening. It almost looked like...
“Gun!” Sophie shouted, reverting to her police training. She dived for cover behind a wooden training structure that looked like a tiny house.
The sharp crack of a bullet being fired split the morning air.
Gina appeared in the office doorway. “What’s going on?”
“Get back!” Sophie shouted, waving her arms. “Call 911. Somebody’s shooting at me!”
Gina screamed and disappeared.
Sophie stayed behind the small structure. Phoenix! Where was Phoenix? Could the attacker have been aiming at him? Surely not. The dog hadn’t done anything wrong.
No, but police dogs were occasionally killed by criminals, Sophie reminded herself. Reading about such senseless loss always made her sad—and angry. Very angry.
She drew her pistol and rose up high enough to see the street. The car was still there. The dog was flat on the ground about ten feet from her.
“Phoenix! Come.”
He raised his head and began to crawl toward her while she kept her aim directed at the black vehicle. If anybody tried to fire again she intended to stop them.
The dog was at her side in seconds, panting and trembling. Sophie pulled him close and checked for injuries as armed officers raced to surround the strange car and block its path.
There was a little blood on the dog’s front paw. Sophie was about to try to carry him to the vet’s office next d
oor when she realized the blood she saw was dripping from her own forehead!
Only then did she notice a slight stinging sensation. She poked the spot with her index finger. It came away red.
* * *
Ryder and his men boxed in the black vehicle with their own cars, approached with guns drawn, and ordered the occupants to raise their hands and get out slowly. The side windows had been darkened so much it was impossible to see the interior.
Several of the K-9s were more interested in the ground around the car than the car itself. Once Shane had worked his way to the front and peered through the windshield, he signaled for Marlton and Whitney Godwin to breach the doors. The car was empty. The shooter or shooters had gotten away.
If Ryder hadn’t left Titus behind in the office he would have put him on the trail immediately. Instead, he pointed to Ellen Foxcroft and her golden retriever, Carly. “Start your dog tracking. Weston, you back her up with Bella. If the scent splits, you two do the same. I want this guy.”
Shane touched two fingers to his brow. “Yes, sir. We’re looking for a man?”
“I wish I knew. It might be Carrie Dunleavy, and it might not. I have Sophie making me a list of possible assailants. I’ll start Louise working on it as soon as I get the names.”
As some of his officers dispersed, he assigned Harrison to work up the evidence, not that he expected this perp to have left behind any clues. He’d already noted no shell casings on the floor of the vehicle or outside on the road. That much caution probably meant there would be no fingerprints, either.
There were times, like now, when he almost wished he could blame Carrie for everything. At least that way they’d be able to focus entirely on capturing her. One of his worst fears was that she might have joined forces with some other criminal, maybe one she’d met while working for the DVPD. The concept made him shiver despite the blinding sun.
Ryder was headed back to his patrol car when his cell phone rang. It was Tanya Fowler’s number. “Hayes here.”
“Hey, chief,” the veterinarian said. “I’ve got a little problem. I may need your help.”
“I was told there were no injuries. Was one of the dogs hurt?”
“Nope,” the vet said.
His pulse had just begun to slow when she added, “This patient is much harder to handle. I can’t put her in a cage and a muzzle won’t fit.”
Ryder was in no mood for jokes. “What are you talking about?”
She lowered her voice until she was rasping into the phone. “There’s a stubborn trainer sitting on my exam table right now and insisting I bandage a scalp wound. I don’t want to get in trouble with Doc Evans or the clinic. Do you think you could convince her to go to the ER?”
“Sophie?” It had to be. His heart returned to double time. “What happened to her?”
“She’s not hurt badly. I just think she should have Evans check her over, for her sake as much as mine.”
“I’ll be right there.” Ryder threw himself behind the wheel of his car. Sophie again. She drew trouble the way flowers drew honeybees. So what did that make him?
“Crazy,” he murmured to himself. If he wasn’t already, he would be soon, thanks to the trainer facing one disaster after another.
He made a face, said, “I can hardly wait for the next incident,” before he realized that the next attack might do her much more serious harm. Or worse.
SIX
“I’m fine, I tell you. Just clean it up and slap a butterfly bandage on it,” Sophie insisted.
Tanya shook her head and backed away, hands raised as if she were being robbed. “No way. I could get in legal trouble.”
“I won’t tell.”
“It’s still wrong. If this is a gunshot. I’m not touching it.”
Sophie had been pressing a paper towel to her forehead, just below the hairline. She flashed a contrite look. “It’s not. I’m sure I just whacked my head on the corner of one of the training structures when I dived for cover. There’s no sense making a big deal out of it and going to the ER.”
She swiveled at the sound of running boots in the hallway. The sight of Ryder was welcome despite the thunder in his expression when he burst through the door.
It was Sophie’s turn to hold up her hands to reassure him but she didn’t want to move the paper towel so she used only one hand, raising it like a traffic cop on a busy corner. “I’m okay. Relax. It really isn’t serious.”
She thought for a moment he might sag against the doorjamb but he recovered quickly.
“What happened? I was told nobody was hit.”
She winced. “I was just telling Tanya. I think I bumped my head when I took cover. I wasn’t shot.”
“How do you know? Have you been shot before?”
“No, but...”
He grabbed latex gloves from an open box on the counter and pulled them on before approaching Sophie. She wanted to fend him off, to tell him she’d take care of herself, but given his concern and commanding nature she decided to hold back.
His touch was gentle as he moved her hand away and disposed of the paper towel. “The bleeding has almost stopped. How long since you had a tetanus shot?”
“I hate shots.”
“So do the dogs, but you make sure they’re immunized.”
She shrugged. He had a point. “Okay. I can call the clinic and have them check my records.”
Ryder was stripping off the gloves. “Where’s Phoenix?”
“Gina has him. Why?”
“Because you and I are going to see David Evans in person. He can check your medical records then.”
“And assure you I wasn’t shot. He was an army medic in Afghanistan. He’ll know on sight.”
Ryder took Sophie’s arm and helped her off the steel table. “Evans is a good man,” Sophie continued. “Whitney’s blessed to have him in her life. He’ll be a good father for her baby. It’s nice for kids to have two...”
She stopped herself but not in time. Ryder’s closed expression proved he knew she’d been going to refer to two parents, something his Lily didn’t have. Sophie could have slapped herself for being so thoughtless.
In an effort the soften the blow she added, “I had both parents and I’d have been better off with neither. They fought all the time. I felt as if I was raised in a war zone.”
They were nearly out the front door. “Is that why you chose law enforcement?” Ryder asked.
Surely he already knew that, she reasoned, meaning he was probably making conversation in hopes of distracting her from where they were going. Nevertheless, she played along. “Yes. And dog training. My best friends were animals. They still are.”
His grip on her arm tightened almost imperceptibly, but it did change. She’d have loved hearing why, particularly if he was feeling sorry for her. That sentiment was not permitted. She’d wasted too much time brooding as a teen to allow anybody to drag her back down into despair. Her life was fine. She was fine. And no good-looking, bossy cop, chief or not, was going to get away with pitying her. No sir.
Straightening, she reclaimed her arm and quickly climbed into his cruiser. When he slid behind the wheel she was ready for him.
“If you won’t do this my way, at least take me by my house so I can get a change of clothes.”
“You keep spare clothes in your locker.”
“I used them and forgot to bring more.”
Although he arched an eyebrow he capitulated. “All right. But the clinic first.”
“You’re really stubborn, you know that?”
Ryder stared. “I’m stubborn? Compared to you I’m a pushover. Which reminds me. Do you have that suspect list ready for me? I want Louise to get on it ASAP.”
“Well...”
“Have you even started it?”
He pulled a clipboard from beside his seat and handed it to her. “Write.”
“Now?”
“Yes, now. Before your thoughts get any more scrambled than they already are.”
Sophie huffed. “My thoughts are not scrambled. I just have a lot to think about and my brain is always busy.”
“If you expect me to accept that as the reason why you didn’t notice you were under fire, forget it.” He rolled his eyes. “Considering all that’s happened to you in the past few days you should be on high alert at all times.”
“I am. I was.” She gestured at her clothing. “As hot as it is, I still wore my bulletproof vest this morning.”
“And now?”
“It’s back at Tanya’s office because I didn’t want to drip on it. I’ll get it later.”
Sophie noticed his white-knuckle grip on the steering wheel right before he said, “I hope nobody takes another shot at you before you do.”
* * *
Evans had confirmed Sophie was not shot, given her a tetanus booster and done exactly what she’d asked of the vet. That didn’t particularly please Ryder. The woman was already so self-confident she was almost unbearable. Adding support from other professionals was likely to make her worse. If that was possible.
“I still want to go to my house,” she insisted after they were back in the car.
Ryder wasn’t surprised. “I figured you would.”
“Smart man.”
“No,” he said flatly. “If I were smart I’d have put you on paid leave as soon as you were shot at the first time.”
“I wouldn’t have left town.”
“Yeah, I figured that, too.” He made a sour face at her. “This way, at least I know where you are and there are plenty of cops nearby. If you aren’t worried for yourself, you should at least be concerned about the dogs you train.”
“I am. But whoever is upset with me doesn’t seem to be targeting animals,” she argued. “That’s a plus.”
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