Search and Rescue

by Valerie Hansen

  People were yelling. Sophie tried to ask rookie James Harrison for details as he passed, but the baying of his bloodhound, Hawk, drowned her out.

  The melee stopped at the back fence. Some of the officers were playing lights over the scrub brush and rocks dotting the field.

  “There! There he is. Eleven o’clock from my position.”

  Judging by his bark, Phoenix had to be coming at a run and Ryder with him. Five flashlights zeroed in on the unknown man.

  Shots cut through the darkness. Sophie instinctively ducked and stayed in a crouch. She was not going to hide inside. Not when so much was going on out there. Not when her friends and colleagues were taking fire.

  “Jesus, help Ryder,” she prayed. “Keep him safe.” As far as she was concerned, his survival far outweighed the capture of her deadly stalker.

  The officers at the fence began to cheer. That was more than Sophie could take. She had to join them.

  Two shadows were grappling in the field. Phoenix had the pant leg of one of them in his teeth and was shaking it. The other had to be Ryder.

  Sophie could hardly breathe. Hardly think. When a gun fired again she stifled a scream.

  * * *

  The pursuit was almost over. Ryder had launched himself at the quarry as soon as he’d gotten close enough.

  The man had whirled and fired but the shot had gone wild when Phoenix had hit him below the knees and taken a bite of his leg.

  Ryder left his own gun holstered rather than chance sending a bullet into the officers still at Sophie’s. He’d seen them gathering when they’d helped him locate the fleeing criminal and knew the fence would slow them down enough that he’d have to finish this job himself.

  He ducked a punch, then landed one of his own before wrapping the shooter in a bear hug and shoving him to the ground.

  Phoenix immediately went for the arm holding the gun.

  The wiry attacker tried to bring the muzzle to bear on the dog. Ryder was on him too fast. “Drop the gun!”

  The captured man shouted curses and thrashed.

  “Drop it,” Ryder ordered again.

  “She killed my brother. She deserves to die,” he yelled.

  And Ryder knew without a doubt who he had caught. The one person Sophie had left off her list of suspects was the menace after all.

  Wrenching the gun from Stan Allen’s hand he called off his dog, then rolled the man over and cuffed him.

  As Ryder stood and pulled his captive to his feet, a group cheer arose.

  “Good job, Chief,” someone called. Others agreed.

  He listened for Sophie’s voice, hoping she had seen how well her dog had worked in a crisis situation. Although he couldn’t hear her cheering above the cacophony he was certain she’d be celebrating, too. After all, this meant she could finally relax and start to live her life more normally.

  Perhaps, God willing, he could, too, he mused as he led his prisoner back to his car, loaded him and let Phoenix jump into the front for a change.

  Closing his eyes, Ryder pictured his darling Melanie. Would she mind if he took Opal’s sage advice and began to think of finding a mother for Lily?

  Expecting peace and assurance, Ryder was disappointed. It was easy to understand why. With Carrie Dunleavy still at large nobody could really go back to living freely, to enjoying life as it had once been.

  “But that day will come,” Ryder told himself with a sigh. He—they—would put an end to Desert Valley’s fear and strife, one way or another.

  If the state troopers didn’t locate Carrie she might even come back to town and give him another crack at catching her.

  That thought sent a shiver up his spine. Some witnesses had been positive the shooter at the depot had been a woman. Was it possible they had been so agitated they were mistaken? Maybe. Hopefully. This guy was about the same height as Carrie and had plenty of matching brown hair.

  Ryder was looking forward to questioning him and getting him to admit to all the attacks. He’d better. Or they’d have to rethink everything.

  TEN

  To say Sophie was tired was the understatement of the year. She’d dozed off twice in the meeting Ryder had called at the DVPD the following morning to brief his staff and the dog trainers.

  She heard her name and jerked. “Sorry. What?”

  “I said we need to work out assignments for the homecoming celebration and street fair. I was planning to pair rookies and dogs with local officials and send them out on regular patrols. Since the fair is only open Friday and Saturday I think we can split the duty without everybody having to work all the time.”

  “I’d like to take some of the older pups out,” Sophie said. “And I know Ellen wants to use the crowd for service dog training, too.”

  “Will Lee Earnshaw be around? If he is, he can handle some of the dogs for her, maybe in shifts. I’ll need her on the street with Carly at least part of the time.”

  Sophie nodded. “He’s going back to vet school, but he expects to be here for the homecoming.” She had to smile. “He’s not too crazy about Desert Valley after spending two years in Canyon County Prison for a crime he didn’t commit, but he can’t bear to stay away from Ellen.”

  “I guess that’s understandable,” Ryder replied, “even though he was exonerated.”

  “True. And they might never have met if he hadn’t been involved in the Prison Pups program.”

  “Enough personal discussion, Williams. Let’s get back to working out a schedule.”

  She almost snickered at his efforts to act so formal in front of the group. Those who hadn’t seen their water fight had surely heard about it. After that, there was little chance she and the chief would be viewed as anything but friends. Which suited her just fine.

  “All right,” Sophie said, stifling a yawn and stretching her arms overhead. “I’d like to be included, as I said. You can either put me down as a regular or let me float to wherever we need extra coverage.” That innocent suggestion brought a grin. “No pun intended. I didn’t mean to bring up anything connected to water when I said float.”

  Muted snickers popped up. Ryder’s cheeks colored. “That’s enough. There will be no more jokes about water while I’m chief, is that clear?”

  “Yes, sir.” Sophie was giggling. “We’ll consider the incident with the dog shampoo as water under the bridge.”

  Watching the expressions flashing across his handsome, if somewhat rosy face, she wondered if she’d gone too far. There was a point past which she should not go, if only to preserve the chief’s decorum.

  She waved both hands. “Sorry. That just slipped out. I’m so happy to be alive and kicking after last night, I guess I’m feeling a little childish.”

  Ryder seemed to forgive her teasing. “Understandable.”

  “Is Stan still refusing to talk?”

  “Yes. After we brought him in I had Doc Evans look him over and prescribe something to calm him down. We’ll have another go at him when he’s acting more rational.”

  Sighing, she let her glance pass over the others in the meeting. “I suppose you all know the story by now. It’s not something I’m proud of. Wes Allen, Stan’s brother, was a good cop and a good man. He should not have died.”

  “Lots of people shouldn’t have died,” Ryder countered. He wasn’t exactly frowning but he certainly didn’t look happy. Not that Sophie blamed him. If she was having this much trouble getting over losing Wes, how much more difficult must it be for the chief to go on with his life after Melanie’s murder?

  And this was not the right time for platitudes or scripture quotes. Well-meaning friends and colleagues had bombarded her with what they had considered consolation and had only made her sorrow deeper, her loss more painful. Words had been inadequate then and they still were. The people who h
ad brought the most comfort were the ones who had simply patted her shoulder or offered a hug without comment. Or wept with her later, she added. It had taken her weeks to cry and yet, even now, when she least expected it, some little thing might trigger more tears.

  Wishing she had a dog lying at her feet, Sophie clenched her hands together in her lap and fought to appear relaxed. All but one of the people in the room seemed to accept her ruse.

  The instant she let her gaze lock with Ryder’s she knew she hadn’t fooled him. In a strange way, that was comforting. Once again they were silently, unobtrusively, sharing empathy. She could not have accepted his pity any more than he’d have welcomed hers. But this was different. It was a connection she had not sought, yet it existed. Or did it?

  Averting her eyes, she began to wonder if this kind of feeling was normal or if she was as deluded as Carrie Dunleavy had been. Correction, as Carrie still is.

  That conclusion caused Sophie to ask, “What about Carrie? Are we going to have to worry about her crashing the homecoming or have there been reports of sightings elsewhere?”

  “State troopers have posted a lot of possibilities,” Ryder replied. “Most were in the southern part of the state, around Phoenix.” At that, the dozing K-9 at his feet perked up and cocked his head. “No, not you,” he said, finally smiling slightly.

  That was the way Sophie felt whenever she was accompanied by a dog so she, too, smiled. “Maybe you’d better say Mesa or Tempe.”

  “Looks like it.” Ryder concentrated on Louise. “Try to accommodate everybody when you make up the special duty roster, then bring it to me for approval. McKeller will want to be free enough to leave if Ariel Martin hasn’t had her baby by then.” Ryder knew that Tristan, one of his rookies, had gotten very close to Ariel, his daughter’s teacher, during a case last month. Ariel was nine months pregnant and due any day. “Other than that, suit yourself.”

  He closed a tablet on the table in front of him and stood. “If that’s all...”

  “What about the civilians?” Louise asked.

  “Use your discretion,” Ryder said flatly. “Except for Williams. She’s with me.”

  Blushing and positive it showed, Sophie quickly added, “To continue to train Phoenix. Right?”

  The chief arched a brow and nodded. “Of course. Why else?”

  Okay, I am certifiably loopy, Sophie concluded. She made a wry face and turned away. I may not be coveting the chief and planning to eliminate anybody who got in my way as Carrie has, but my imagination is just as wild.

  Here she’d been, happily entertaining visions of their emotional and perhaps even spiritual connection, when he’d been all business, as usual. His reasons for wanting her around weren’t personal, they were merely practical.

  She shrugged. Well, one thing about it was good. If Carrie did show up and start killing again, at least Sophie wouldn’t end up in the crosshairs.

  The subconscious reference to a rifle scope made her frown. Think. Try to clarify an unsettling feeling. That was what had been hovering in the back of her mind! Stan had used a pistol when he’d shot her bed. So, where was his rifle?

  * * *

  Lily drove Ryder so crazy about the homecoming celebration and street fair, he let her come to work with him that Friday. The booths didn’t open until 10:00 a.m. but he figured she could entertain herself playing with puppies at the training center, if necessary.

  That was exactly what she was doing when he went looking for her. Someone, probably Sophie or Gina, had slipped an old shirt on over Lily’s good clothes and she was sitting on the floor, laughing, while half-grown pups vied for spots next to her or in her lap.

  She beamed up at her daddy. “They love me.”

  “I can see that. It’s almost time for the fair. Tell the dogs goodbye and come with me.”

  “Okay.” It took her several tries to get up amid all the licking and giggling.

  “Sorry,” Sophie said, hurrying to help. “I lost track of time.”

  Before Ryder could intercede she scooped up his daughter and carried her inside as he asked, “Are you ready?”

  “In a sec. Lily needs her face and hands washed. Did you bring a hairbrush?”

  “No. Why?”

  “Never mind. It’s a girl thing. I’ll fix her hair.”

  The way her mother would, if she had one, Ryder thought, chagrined. Opal Mullins usually took care of readying Lily for school after he dropped her off, so except for church on Sundays, he rarely had to help the little girl primp. Truth to tell, it seldom occurred to him to smooth her tousled, blond hair. He liked the elfin way it made her look.

  “Thanks for putting the shirt on her,” Ryder said, lingering in the doorway to Sophie’s office. “I didn’t bring a change of clothes.”

  “What did you do when she was a baby?”

  “I had some help. Her babysitter used to stay with her at my house back then. She took care of laundry and stuff.”

  Watching while Sophie gently brushed tangles out of the silky blond hair, Ryder remembered to pass on news. “By the way, Tristan won’t be on patrol until tomorrow. Ariel just had her baby.”

  “A girl, right? That’s what Ariel said she was expecting.”

  “I didn’t think to ask.” He had to smile when Sophie rolled her eyes at him and said, “Men. You never ask the important questions.”

  “All I know is, the baby is healthy and everybody is doing fine. Tristan is as proud as if he were the natural father.”

  “I know Ariel wishes he were, but at least her ex can’t try to hurt her or the baby anymore. Not ever. I’m glad she has Tristan to lean on. He’ll make a great dad.”

  “And probably remember to bring a hairbrush?”

  Sophie laughed. “I wouldn’t count on it. He’s a man.” She presented the purse-size brush to Lily. “Here. You can keep this one. I have others. Let’s go.”

  The child continued to pull the brush through the ends of her hair long after Sophie had finished, as if she were suddenly grown-up. Ryder wasn’t sure he liked that.

  Another thing he wasn’t sure about was spending the entire day with the pretty, head trainer. On a professional level it made perfect sense. On a deeper level it bothered him. A lot. If there was the slightest chance that Carrie was in the vicinity of Desert Valley, his keeping company with any woman was a bad idea.

  He supposed he could have asked Gina, the junior trainer, to accompany him but only if he wanted to do battle with rookie Shane Weston to whom she was engaged. Besides, they were a compatible team.

  Nor was he willing to endanger another person. Sophie and he already had something of a history, thanks to the criminal actions of her stalker, so why rock the boat?

  Ryder huffed and began to smile as he drove toward the town square. Rocking a boat reminded him of sailing which reminded him of water which reminded him of—Sophie.

  He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d had real fun. Felt good enough to actually be playful. Or trusted anyone enough to revert to a former version of himself—a younger, less jaded version. Here he was, nearly thirty, and he had already begun to act like a stuffy old man. Until Sophie had forced her way into his psyche.

  Glancing in the rearview mirror, Ryder saw her following in her SUV. She’d asked to transport Phoenix so he’d agreed. It was evident that she’d become attached to the needy dog. He could relate. There was something about the Aussie that brought out similar feelings in him. Plus, Lily loved playing hide-and-seek. Titus wasn’t good for more than one or two times but the younger dog usually outlasted his energetic child.

  “I want you to stay right with me and the dogs today,” Ryder reminded Lily. “Remember what we talked about. You have to behave so Phoenix and Titus will. It’s very important.”

  She nodded sagely. “I’ll be good. I promise.
Can I take my brush?”

  “Why don’t you leave it in the car so you don’t lose it? You don’t want to disappoint Ms. Sophie.”

  “She’s nice.” Grinning, she looked up to her daddy. “You gonna marry her?”

  “Whoa! What makes you ask that?”

  “I just wondered.” Ryder saw her gingerly handling the small brush. “I like her.”

  “I do, too, honey, but maybe she doesn’t want to get married. Some people never do, you know. They prefer to live by themselves.”

  “Oh.”

  Satisfied that he’d ended the conversation, Ryder parked on a side street for easy access, then helped Lily out before putting a leash on Titus.

  Sophie pulled up behind them with Phoenix. He was dressed in his own bulletproof vest and Ryder hoped the extra level of protection wouldn’t make him, or the human officers, too hot as the desert day warmed.

  Lily was jumping up and down. “Phoenix is here!”

  “That’s right,” her father said. “Now settle down so you don’t get the dogs too excited.”

  “Okay.”

  He frowned at Sophie. “Where’s your vest?”

  “In the car. I’ll get it if you insist.”

  “I insist.”

  “Okay, but I’m not keeping it fastened tightly.”

  Ryder was so intent on making Sophie as safe as possible, he failed to see what his daughter was doing until she tugged on the trainer’s free hand.

  “Ms. Sophie?”

  “Yes, Lily?”

  “Why don’t you want to get married?”

  “What makes you think that?”

  “Daddy said.”

  Sophie shot him a cynical glance. “Oh, he did, did he. Well, honey, I’ll tell you why. It’s because I like living with dogs better than most people.”

  “Why?”

  Ryder hoped her answer was not going to be too serious. When she said, “Because they can’t make up stories about me that aren’t true,” he was relieved. He almost strangled trying to stifle a laugh and was succeeding until she added, “Do you like to play in the water? I know a really funny story about that.”