Colton K-9 Bodyguard

by Lara Lacombe

  He nodded. “Even when he’s not officially working, he’ll still respond to the scent. He’s trained not to ignore that particular odor, and his sense of smell is very strong.”

  “There’s certainly enough blood here. Even I can kind of smell it.” She wrinkled her nose at the coppery tang in the air and shivered.

  Micah pulled her away from the room and Chunk followed them back into the store. “I feel so bad for him,” Bea said softly. “I can’t imagine how frightened Joey must have been.” She wrapped her arms around herself, unable to stop thinking about the poor man.

  Micah hesitated, then drew her against his chest. Bea stiffened, surprised at the contact. Then she melted against him, relaxing into his strength as his arms circled her.

  “If it makes you feel any better, we don’t think Joey was killed here.” His voice was a low rumble in her ear, the sound just as soothing as his words.

  “You don’t?”

  Micah’s chin brushed her hair as he shook his head. “No. There’s no bullet hole in the chair, and if he was shot here, there would be a lot more blood.”

  Bea shivered, wondering how that was possible. To her eye, it looked like gallons of blood had been spilled in the small room. But what did she know about such matters?

  Micah’s arms tightened around her. Bea reveled in the contact—she had missed this, missed feeling his body against hers. They had always fit so perfectly together, as if they were made for each other. She closed her eyes and breathed in his scent, trying not to seem too obvious about it. Part of her felt a little guilty about enjoying his embrace. He was only trying to comfort her, and she shouldn’t read too much into the gesture. But it had been so long since she’d been held by a man, and no one had ever taken Micah’s place.

  After a moment he pulled back and studied her face. “Better?”

  She nodded, feeling a little sad. Micah’s embrace had made her nostalgic for what they’d once shared, but she knew better than to dwell on the past.

  “Good.” He dropped his arms, releasing her. “The cleaning crew will be here in about an hour. Is there anything we need to do to protect your dresses before they get started?”

  His question brought her back to reality and she pushed aside her emotions to focus on work. “Yes. I need to get the gowns into zippered storage bags so they won’t get exposed to any chemicals.”

  “Let’s get started.” He said it without hesitation, clearly ready and willing to do whatever it took to help her. A swell of gratitude rose in Bea’s chest at this demonstration of Micah’s generosity. He’d always been so thoughtful, and it was nice to know that time hadn’t changed that about him.

  She led the way to the stockroom and began retrieving the heavy bags. Micah carried them out into the store in piles, and together they set about tucking the dresses inside.

  “Some of these are pretty heavy,” he remarked, his tone revealing his surprise.

  Bea smiled. “Yeah, the beadwork and layers of fabric add to the weight. But that’s the price you pay for beauty.”

  “I suppose,” he remarked, zipping a bag closed. “But I’ve always preferred the simple, elegant look.”

  “Me, too,” she murmured, recalling the gown she’d picked out for their wedding. A pang stabbed her heart as she pictured the simple ivory sheath with its rows of seed pearls along the neckline and hem. She’d fallen in love with the dress the moment she’d seen it, and had bought it on the spot. Even after Micah had called things off, she couldn’t bear to part with the dress, and it still hung in her closet at home. She took it out every once in a while when she was feeling particularly maudlin. Despite the passage of time, it was still her dream gown.

  But she knew she’d never wear it.

  Even if Bea did get engaged, she couldn’t very well marry another man in the dress she’d picked out for Micah. So she kept it tucked in her closet, a reminder of past love and the life she might have led if things had turned out differently.

  They worked in silence, the quiet punctuated by Chunk’s gentle snoring as the dog snoozed on a rug a few feet away. Bea wasn’t aware of the passage of time until a loud knock on the door interrupted her work.

  “That’ll be the cleaning crew,” Micah said, striding to the door.

  Bea glanced around as he opened the door. The two of them had made good progress; there were only a few dresses left to wrap. Micah gestured for her to join him. “They have some paperwork for you to sign, authorizing them to start cleaning. I’ll finish up with the gowns while you take care of this.”

  It didn’t take long—she skimmed over the permission forms and scribbled her name at the bottom. She turned to find Micah carefully sliding the last dress into the bag. We make a good team, she thought wistfully. Did he feel the same way? Or was he simply trying to be nice by helping her?

  It doesn’t matter, she told herself. The important thing was that the dresses were protected and the cleaning crew could get started. She had to stop reading too much into Micah’s actions, or she was going to drive herself crazy.

  “Ready?” Micah stood by the door, Chunk at his side. Sunlight streamed through the window, sparking off the copper strands in his auburn hair. With his imposing height, broad shoulders and piercing green eyes, Micah was an impressive sight.

  How is he still single? Handsome and kind, with a great sense of humor, to boot, Micah was a catch by anyone’s standards. Why hadn’t some lucky woman snapped him up?

  She added that question to the long list of things she wanted to know about Micah and moved to join him. One day she’d ask him about his life and his time in the army. And maybe she’d even work up the courage to ask why he’d ended things so abruptly.

  But not today. Last night’s attack had left her feeling fragile and vulnerable, and she didn’t think her heart could take another blow.

  Chapter 6

  Micah led Bea to the station’s break room and placed the bag holding their lunch on the table. “Go ahead and start eating,” he told her. “I’m going to check in with the guys. It shouldn’t take too long.” He headed for the door, then turned back. “And don’t let Chunk fool you. That sad-eyed look he gives is a lie. He doesn’t get people food, no matter what he tries to tell you.”

  Bea nodded and glanced down at the dog, who had already parked himself at her feet and was gazing longingly at the table.

  “Don’t beg, Chunk,” Micah admonished. “It’s not dignified.”

  His partner didn’t bother to acknowledge him, and Micah left the pair alone, hoping Bea would be strong enough to resist Chunk’s charms. He walked over to Brayden’s desk, noting the dark circles under his friend’s eyes. Brayden’s clothes were rumpled, and Micah noted he hadn’t changed since last night. Had Brayden slept here? Correction, he thought to himself, eying the large cup of coffee on the desk. Did Brayden stay up all night working?

  Echo, the yellow Lab partnered with Brayden, reclined on a large pad by the desk. He lifted his head and began to wag his tail as Micah approached. “Hey there, buddy,” Micah said softly, leaning down to scratch the dog’s ears. Echo sat up and looked pointedly at Micah’s side, clearly searching for Chunk. “He’s in the break room,” Micah explained. Echo stood and stretched, then trotted off in search of his friend.

  Micah smiled faintly, impressed as always by the intelligence of the dogs in the K-9 unit. When he’d first joined the Rangers and had been partnered with Duke, he’d felt self-conscious about talking to the dog like he was a person. But it hadn’t taken long for Micah to realize how empathetic Duke was, and it had soon become clear the animal understood more than just the simple commands he’d been taught.

  After a second, he heard Chunk’s happy yip of greeting, followed by a startled “Oh!” from Bea. I probably should have warned her, he thought. But both Echo and Chunk were good-natured dogs who got along well together, and he didn’t think the
y’d cause any trouble.

  Brayden looked up and ran his hand through his already messy hair. “Hey,” he said shortly. “Didn’t think you’d make it in today.”

  “We had to stop by Bea’s house and get some personal stuff, and then we went to the boutique. The place is a mess but I’ve got a cleaning crew there now. Hopefully they’ll be finished by the end of the day.”

  Brayden nodded. “The evidence team finished up around three in the morning. Body’s at the morgue, scheduled for an autopsy. The county coroner said he should be able to get to it today.”

  “And I take it the lab knows this case is a priority?”

  “They do, but they also informed me they have a backlog of other priority cases to deal with first. So who knows how long it will take before we hear anything?”

  Micah frowned, but he knew there was nothing to be done. The men and women who handled the forensic side of his investigations were a dedicated bunch, and he knew they weren’t stalling on purpose. It was simply a supply-and-demand issue—there was a high demand for their services throughout the region and not enough of them to go around.

  “Maybe I can help grease the wheels a bit,” he muttered. He knew from experience that a catered lunch and a friendly smile went a long way in convincing the techs to put in a little overtime. In any event, it wouldn’t hurt to build a little goodwill with the crew.

  Carson and Shane wandered over, and Brayden nodded at the pair. “Any good news?” Micah asked. “Please tell me your neighborhood canvass turned up a witness to Tucker Frane’s murder?”

  “Nope.” Carson grinned. “That would be too easy.”

  “And ballistics aren’t back yet?”

  Shane shook his head. “Owen’s out sick today, so it hasn’t been processed yet.”

  Frustration filled Micah. “He’s sick?” he repeated incredulously. Now was a hell of a time for the ballistics tech to miss work, and Micah briefly considered driving to the man’s house and bringing him in so they could get some answers.

  “Afraid so,” Shane said. “His supervisor said he had a nasty case of the flu. Even had to go to the ER for rehydration.”

  “Oh.” Micah’s irritation vanished, replaced with sympathy for the young man. “That’s rough.”

  Finn walked over to the group, a file folder in his hand. “Oh good, you’re all here. Saves me some time.”

  “What’s up, chief?” Micah asked.

  “Time for an impromptu meeting.” Finn raised his voice to be heard over the din of the room. “Heads-up, ladies and gentlemen. Gather round, please.”

  Chairs scraped against the linoleum and feet shuffled as people stopped their work and walked over. Finn waited until the group had assembled, then nodded his head. “We’ve just had a report from the local FBI office regarding Demi Colton.”

  A murmur rippled through the crowd, and Micah’s interest sharpened. Did they have another lead?

  “An FBI agent reports spotting Demi in Walker’s Creek yesterday evening around six.”

  Micah frowned. “That’s, what? About sixty miles to the east?”

  Finn nodded. “Yes. He says she’s changed her hair—it’s now short and blond.”

  “Whoa, wait a minute,” Carson interjected. “We have a witness for my brother’s murder who described Demi’s long, curly red hair.”

  “And yesterday’s witness described her long, curly hair, as well,” Micah said. “Tucker Frane said her hair had been dyed brown, but it was still the same style.”

  Finn held up a hand. “I hear what you’re saying, guys. I’m just telling you what the agent says he saw.”

  Micah crossed his arms over his chest, his skepticism mounting. “I don’t suppose the agent got a closer look?”

  Finn shook his head. “No. He lost her in a crowd.”

  “Of course,” Micah muttered.

  “There’s more,” Finn reported. “The agent said he’s sure she’s pregnant.”

  Another murmur started up, and Micah saw a few of his fellow officers nodding. They’d suspected Demi was pregnant, and had even found a discarded positive pregnancy test hidden in Demi’s home during an earlier search.

  The fact that the FBI agent had spotted a pregnant woman matching Demi’s description was compelling, Micah had to admit. It wasn’t hard to change a hairstyle, so it was possible Demi really was blonde now. But Micah still had a hard time believing she was in Walker’s Creek.

  “There’s our motive,” said Lucas Gage. He was a bounty hunter who contracted with the Red Ridge police department, and he and Demi were professional rivals of a sort. “Demi snapped when she discovered she’s pregnant. She started this killing spree to get back at Bo for moving on with his life.”

  It was a compelling motive. Demi and Bo Gage, victim number one, had been a couple before he’d dumped her for Hayley Patton. Bo had been killed the night before his wedding. But Micah wasn’t so sure Demi was guilty. Some evidence pointed to her, yes, but some of the pieces just didn’t add up...

  “No way,” said Shane. “Bo hasn’t been the only victim. Why continue to kill if Demi only wanted revenge on Bo?”

  Lucas shrugged. “Like I said, she snapped.”

  Brayden spoke up, his voice tight with emotion. “You’re forgetting something. It’s not just grooms who are dying now. We have a dead witness. That’s not part of the Groom Killer’s usual pattern.”

  “And serial killers don’t suddenly change their behavior,” Shane added.

  The room fell silent as the officers considered these new facts. Micah frowned as his thoughts swirled. Something the chief had said was bothering him, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on what...

  Suddenly, lightning struck. “Chief?” he asked. “What time did the FBI agent say he’d spotted Demi in Walker’s Creek?”

  Finn glanced back at the file in his hands. “Six in the evening.”

  Micah shook his head. “Impossible. Our witness from last night claims he saw her shoot Joey McBurn at six thirty in the alley. There’s no way she could have made it to Red Ridge from Walker’s Creek in half an hour.”

  Brayden nodded in agreement, and Micah could tell his friend’s belief in his sister’s innocence was bolstered by the discrepancy. “Someone is wrong,” Brayden said. “Either Tucker Frane was lying about what he saw last night, or the FBI agent is mistaken.”

  “And we all know which option you’re rooting for,” someone muttered.

  Brayden’s jaw clenched, but he didn’t respond to the quiet taunt. Micah was proud of his friend for taking the high road—he knew how difficult this case was for him.

  Was it Demi the FBI agent had seen? Or was it simply someone who resembled her with different hair? If the FBI agent had seen a decoy, had Frane been killed for telling the truth about seeing Demi?

  Finn’s gaze sharpened on the gathering. “That’s enough,” he said firmly. “You all have jobs to do. Stay alert and focused, and think outside the box. The clues to solving these murders are in front of us. We just have to put them together in the right way.”

  He waved his hands, dismissing the group. As everyone wandered back to their desks, Micah saw Bea standing in the doorway of the break room, holding the brown paper sack that contained his lunch. She walked over, Chunk and Echo at her heels.

  Micah had to smile at the sight. She looked like an angelic Pied Piper with her canine entourage. Both dogs gazed up at her adoringly, and Micah had a sneaking suspicion Bea hadn’t been able to resist sharing her food with them.

  “Did you finish eating?”

  She nodded and handed the bag to him. “I thought you might want your burger before it gets too cold.”

  “Thanks.” He took the bag and led her to his desk, a few feet away. He gestured for her to take the empty chair in front of his station, and Chunk pawed at his bed, walking in a counterclockwise c
ircle three times before settling in for a nap. “Please tell me you didn’t give him too much food.”

  Bea glanced at the dog and smiled. “Oh, no. He didn’t get any of my burger. But I did find a jar of treats in the cupboard...” She trailed off, and Micah chuckled.

  “Uh-huh. Did you find them on your own, or did you have help?”

  Her cheeks flushed a pretty pink. “Well, the other dog did give me a little guidance.”

  “I’m sure he did,” Micah replied.

  “Echo,” Brayden admonished, his tone one of affectionate exasperation. Echo’s tail thumped against the floor, the dog clearly unrepentant about his actions. “I’m sorry about that. He thinks with his stomach.”

  “It’s okay,” Bea replied. “He probably figured I’m an easy mark.”

  Brayden turned back to his work, and Micah unwrapped his burger. It was a little on the cold side, but it was food and he was hungry.

  Bea scooted closer to his desk and leaned in, as if she had a confession. The neckline of her shirt gaped open, exposing the tops of her breasts. Micah’s mouth went dry at the sight, and he quickly forced his eyes back up to her face. He swallowed hard and reached for a stale cup of coffee to wash down the burger before he choked.

  “I heard what you all were talking about,” she said softly. “About Demi being spotted in Walker’s Creek yesterday evening.”

  Micah dabbed at his mouth with a paper napkin and nodded, not trusting his voice. He hadn’t meant for Bea to learn so much about the investigation, but he also knew she wasn’t like her father. Bea could keep a secret, and she wouldn’t go blabbing to the press about what she knew.

  “I know my opinion probably doesn’t mean much, but I don’t think Demi is the one who attacked me last night.”

  “Oh? Why is that?” Was Bea simply being loyal to her cousin, or was there a compelling reason she thought Demi was innocent?

  Bea shook her head. “I can’t quite explain it, but I know it wasn’t her. I’m pretty sure it was a woman who hit me, because of the perfume. I recognize it from somewhere, but I just don’t know where. What I am certain of is that Demi has never worn perfume like that in her life, and I can’t imagine she’d start now.”