“Maybe so.” He held the front door open for her and her dog as Hooper followed his hand signal and sat beside him. Then he followed her in.
It was late afternoon and the Chance Coffee Shop always seemed to have a crowd. Today was no different but fortunately there were a few tables near the wall that they could choose from—good locations where their dogs wouldn’t get in the way of servers or other patrons. He allowed Elissa to lead the way then, as she sat, asked what she wanted.
“I’ll go get our stuff,” he said. “You hold this table—and Hooper will help you.” He told his dog to sit, which of course he did, near both Elissa and Peace, who immediately started wagging her tail eagerly and sniffing at Hooper.
Doug wasn’t surprised when Elissa requested he get her a café mocha. “But either let me pay for it or plan on getting together with me for coffee again when I can treat.”
He liked the latter idea—although he shouldn’t. But maybe they could get together again sometime soon to figure out the origin and meaning of that sign at the ranch, if she didn’t suggest a viable explanation to him now.
That would most likely be the only reason he’d allow himself to see more of her. Unless, of course, Maisie loved learning about therapy dogs enough that she convinced him to join her.
He had to wait in line for about three minutes. During that time, he turned back often to look toward Elissa, only to discover she was watching him, too—with one hand on each of the dogs’ heads.
What was she thinking?
And how was he going to approach the questions he needed to ask her?
* * *
So what was this really about? Elissa wondered. She did find Doug appealing and thought that he, too, might feel some attraction between them—but she didn’t think that was why he’d asked her to have coffee with him.
What were his questions?
He soon returned to their table and placed a medium-size cup of mocha in front of her. As far as she could tell, he’d chosen the same size black coffee.
Plus, he’d brought a bowl with water in it, which he placed on the floor near the dogs.
He was a considerate guy, then, including as far as dogs were concerned.
When he sat, he looked at her as he took a sip from his cup. The expression in those hazel eyes of his looked particularly intense, especially since his brow was furrowed, arching his thick brown eyebrows even more.
Even more curious now, Elissa thanked him for the mocha, took a sip of the rich brew and then waited for him to speak.
“So what made you decide to apply for the job at the K-9 Ranch?” he finally asked. “Especially on a part-time basis, so far from your home and regular job?”
Why did he want to learn that? She didn’t ask, though. Instead she replied, “Impulse, of sorts—though I’m not really an impulsive person. But the Chance K-9 Ranch has such a wonderful reputation. At least it did when its original owner, Corbin Belott, was there. And now I’ve seen all sorts of praise online about how it’s coming back, how so many police K-9s are being trained along with their handlers—and even great pet training, too, despite its rather remote location. I love its website and the demonstrations shown there, too. When I saw they were looking for someone to work with therapy dog handlers, I thought, ‘Hey, that’s me,’ so here I am.”
She smiled at him. That wasn’t really all of it, of course. She’d worked with some wonderful therapy dog trainers and handlers before but had been looking for a different direction, something even more special as an adjunct to the part of her life devoted to nursing and helping ill and injured people medically...and psychologically, which really appealed to her. And what was more psychologically helpful to those in need than therapy dogs?
If she could help a lot more caring people to gain appropriate credentials with their dogs in a setting like the K-9 Ranch, well, then, she had to do it. Providing ongoing classes sounded wonderful.
“I see,” Doug said, though his expression was now somewhat blank, as if he didn’t see at all. “And are all the people where you work as a nurse on board with you doing this?”
Puzzlement flooded through her. Why would he ask that? “Those who know about it seem fine with it.” Would they continue to when she had to negotiate more about the days and hours she’d be available? That was unknown, but she’d deal with it.
“That’s good. So all’s well with you, and Peace, and you are both fine with your becoming trainers here in Chance?”
“Yes.” She knew her response sounded short and frustrated—but maybe it was because his questions had started a stirring in her, a reminder of yesterday and her return home to find Peace acting so strange.
Not that it had ever really left her thoughts.
“Yes,” she repeated. “Although...” She let her word trail off, knowing she should only act completely sure of herself. But heck, she was in the presence of a cop, a dog-loving one at that. Maybe he would have some ideas about how she could figure out what had bothered her dog yesterday.
“Although what?” he prompted.
“Look, this probably has nothing at all to do with my interviewing for a job here, but the problem is that I don’t have a clue about the reason. Yesterday, when I returned home after interviewing for the job with Amber, my usually sweet, calm, loving dog Peace acted really strange.”
Interest and concern seemed to take over Doug’s expression. Did he really give a damn? “Strange how?”
She described how Peace had behaved, from her barking to roving from room to room and not even acting completely calm after they’d taken their walk and gone to bed. “I didn’t see anything unusual to cause her to act that way. But it was so uncharacteristic. I wondered whether, if I brought another dog in, I’d get any similar reaction, if there was some scent in my home that was causing it, but I didn’t want to alert any of my friends to something that probably meant absolutely nothing.”
“Or maybe it actually meant something.”
Then Doug believed her? Gave a damn?
Was his interest part of some kind of flirtation?
She didn’t think so. He seemed too serious, too professional as a cop.
“I just wish I knew,” she responded.
“Well, how about if Hooper and I accompany Peace and you back to your home and I let my very special K-9 have a sniff around?”
Chapter 4
Doug followed Elissa in her black SUV down the 101 Freeway in his large police vehicle and wished he’d driven her, or even ridden with her, so they’d be in the same car, able to talk. Though he wanted to check out her place to try to figure out if her dog’s actions were in some way related to the sign found on the K-9 Ranch, he had no intention of staying in San Luis Obispo for long. Therefore he’d needed a set of wheels so he could leave when he wanted to.
As it was, he was stretching his claim of still being on duty, though he had reported to his commanding officer to let her know where he was going and why, as well as an estimate of the time he’d return. She’d given him permission to continue working on this matter, even if it meant he could not take on the other case he and Maisie had been previously assigned to look into. He’d also called on his cell phone as he’d taken off after Elissa to let Maisie know where he was going, and his sister had sounded anything but pleased.
“She’s caught up in a case now,” she had told him. “You know better than to get involved with her in any way other than professionally.”
“That’s all I’m doing,” he had attempted to assure Maisie. “She had a problem at her home that could be connected with our investigation at the K-9 Ranch.”
“Which itself isn’t much of a case,” Maisie had retorted. “A possible threat with no substance to it.”
“But you know the department’s position about Amber Belott and the Chance K-9 Ranch,” he’d reminded her. “She helped us solve her own father’s
murder, and the current view is that we owe her. So we need to find out if that threat is legit, and who placed it there and why. That’s what I’m working on.”
“Sure,” Maisie had said, and they’d quickly ended the call.
Fortunately the traffic wasn’t bad so they reached Elissa’s home fairly quickly. “Okay, boy,” Doug said to Hooper after parking along the street and getting his dog out of the back. “You’re on.” No need to put Hooper’s official vest on him for this, though he’d be on duty—kind of.
And Doug was curious whether even a trained police K-9 would find a reason for Peace’s alleged odd behavior. It was probably nothing. Under other circumstances, Doug wouldn’t have given it a second thought, let alone take a substantial chunk out of his day to check it out.
But behind it all was that potentially threatening sign: Be Careful Who You Hire.
The driveway Elissa had pulled into was narrow and led to the garage of a house that appeared to have been there for a while. Its stucco seemed worn, and it looked a lot more rundown than its nearby neighbors. That surely had nothing to do with Peace’s actions yesterday—or did it? Maybe someone was trying to do something to scare this tenant away so the house could be torn down and replaced with something newer and fancier.
Doug left his jacket in the car, wearing just his white cop shirt with his uniform pants. He hurried down the driveway of the house with Hooper’s leash in his hand. Elissa had exited her SUV but seemed to be taking her time getting Peace out of the back.
Because she was concerned about the dog’s reaction?
Because she wanted Doug to be there when she let the dog in?
In any event, she didn’t open the door to the house but motioned for Doug to follow her to the lawn. “It’s been a long drive. I want to let Peace decide if she needs some outdoor time.”
Which she did, and so did Hooper. When both dogs were finished, Doug said, “Okay, let’s go in.”
“Of course.” But Elissa appeared anything but thrilled about the idea.
Still, Peace’s leash in her hand, she returned to the garage and used a key to open the door into the house. Doug, with Hooper, followed—and immediately saw Peace’s strange reaction as they walked into the kitchen. The golden had seemed nice and gentle and reserved...before. Now she pulled ahead, yanking on her leash so hard that she nearly pulled Elissa behind her.
Nose to the floor, she walked in circles, growling occasionally, looking as if she was tracking something down.
Beside Doug, Hooper looked up at him as if waiting for his command—which he quickly gave.
“Find,” he told his K-9. He released Hooper from his leash, determined to follow the dog no matter where he went in the house.
At first, Hooper appeared to follow in Peace’s paw prints, but not for long. Soon he leaped out of the kitchen before the dog who lived there, nose still to the ground.
Was he following a scent—the smell of some animal that had gotten inside?
A human animal? One other than Elissa?
One who didn’t belong and emitted a scent of fear?
Doug glanced toward Elissa, who stood in the hall. Peace now appeared to be following Hooper. “What is he doing?” Elissa’s whisper was loud and sounded afraid.
Doug had an urge to put an arm around her in comfort, but that wouldn’t solve anything—like figuring out what was happening.
“He’s following a scent,” Doug answered. “That might be what disturbed Peace yesterday, although I can’t tell you what kind of scent it is—at least not yet.”
“But...could it be—”
“I don’t want to speculate.” But she looked so forlorn and frightened that he did approach Elissa and put an arm around her. “Let’s follow and see what he finds.”
He was impressed by the nice furnishings in this old, beat-up home. Obviously, Elissa’s tastes were good, even if she hadn’t rented something a bit more modern.
Maybe she couldn’t afford to.
Maybe she’d hoped that working at the K-9 Ranch part-time might increase her income enough that she could eventually find something nicer.
There was a lot about this woman that he didn’t know. Shouldn’t want to know. But he did.
Together, they followed the dogs, who both seemed to go from room to room now—the living room, what appeared to be a guest bedroom, a single bathroom and then the master bedroom.
Which was where Hooper bounded toward one of the windows that was covered by a closed shade.
“Was this open yesterday?” Doug asked before touching it.
“No, although I did look at it and the other windows in here after Peace acted so strangely, to make sure they weren’t open.”
“Well, let’s check it out.” Doug removed gloves from his pocket and put them on to avoid messing up any prints if there actually was something wrong here, and pulled on the rope at the side to open the shade.
Nothing. The window was closed, as Elissa had said.
But that didn’t stop Hooper from jumping up and reacting, indicating to Doug that whatever the scent the two dogs had been chasing, this was most likely the place of origin, at least at first.
“Hooper, sit.” When his dog obeyed, he added, “Good boy.”
Since Peace was still beside him, he looked at Elissa, who took her dog’s leash and led her away.
Which gave Doug the opportunity to look more closely at the window.
And to find what he had somewhat anticipated on the lock at the top of the bottom piece of glass along the window frame.
It appeared that some kind of tool had been inserted to unlock it, judging by the barely visible wearing away of the metal and glass.
Carefully, Doug worked at the window and found it opened with almost no effort at all. Opened enough so that someone outside could have gotten in—and someone who’d managed to get inside could get out.
“Bingo,” he said.
* * *
Standing behind him, watching what he did, Elissa felt herself shudder in shock, though she realized it shouldn’t be a total surprise.
Forcing herself into steadiness, she bent slightly to stroke and attempt to calm Peace, who also quivered, though possibly because she wanted to run and not just sit there. Elissa loved Peace, trusted her, and the dog’s actions yesterday had been a loud statement of something going on around here, though Elissa hadn’t known what. She still didn’t.
Now another dog, trained for more appropriate ways to look into the situation, had confirmed that something was not right.
“Can you tell from Hooper’s actions if someone actually came inside and what they did?” Elissa hated that her voice came out as a soft croak but she wasn’t surprised.
She was stressed.
She was scared.
Doug turned and aimed an ironic half grin toward her. “Possibly. But rely on your own dog, too. I’d say whoever it was managed to walk around your entire house. Your Peace already told you that.”
She nodded. “Yes,” she said, “she did. But why?”
“I’d suggest you look around and see if any valuables are missing.”
“What valuables?” This time she did manage an ironic smile of her own.
“Okay, then, non-valuables. Whatever you own or keep here.”
She had a sudden urge to explain herself to this man, this cop who had traveled a long distance to try to help her. For a variety of reasons, mostly involving how she had been brought up by her frugal family, she tried to save more of her nursing salary than she spent—though that didn’t always work. The extra income from her new part-time gig at the K-9 Ranch was bound to help a little.
But mostly, she liked helping people and using therapy dogs was one of her favorite ways to do so.
All she said now was, “I’m not really into bling, and I don’t keep cash around, so
whoever was here probably didn’t find anything to take.”
But she’d keep checking, just in case. Still, she couldn’t help wondering why her house had been a target. Had others around here been broken into, too? She didn’t know many of her neighbors well, but she’d have to ask them.
“Well, the person who broke in might not have known that.” But Doug’s expression, when he turned to look at her, suggested that he somehow wanted to dig inside her head for some answers.
Answers she didn’t have.
“Possibly,” she said.
“Okay, then. I’ll let Hooper take another swing around the place and see if he reacts to anything else. And by the way, I will speculate now that the scent he reacted to was fear—fear of getting caught as an intruder. After Hooper’s done this time...well, do you have any friends you can stay with tonight?”
She had made friends in the years she had lived in San Luis Obispo, though not that many, and none particularly close.
With the vocation and avocations she had, even she found that a bit surprising. But as much as she liked to help people, she’d learned the hard way that getting close to anyone, even friends, wasn’t always a good idea.
“No,” she said lightly, “but I’ll be fine here. Whoever broke in is unlikely to do it again. They already know there’s nothing here worth stealing. And they’ve already been inside, so why try it again?”
“But—” Whatever he’d started to say, Doug seemed to catch himself. “Okay, let Hooper and me do our thing. Then we’ll talk.”
Why did even the mention of a talk with this man make her feel uneasy? He’d come here to help her, and so far he really had. Whatever they’d talk about, it would have nothing to do with the fact that she found him attractive. More than attractive. A truly brave and genuinely kind man who clearly took his job of policing, helping people, to heart.
“Sure,” she said, trying to act completely nonchalant. “Let me know when you’re ready. Peace and I will wait in the kitchen.”
For the next ten minutes Elissa sat at the square kitchen table sipping on a bottle of water she’d taken out of the small but adequate fridge that had come with the house. She’d get a bottle out for Doug when he joined her. She had already set out a container of shortbread cookies that she occasionally brought along to her therapy sessions with kids. The sweets sometimes made them smile and become even more receptive to interacting with a caring dog.
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