Standing Fast

by Maggie K. Black

  He could feel the emotional weight of it all bearing down on him. Allie was having nightmares. Maisy’s life had been thrown into chaos. Queenie was missing out on her training. Reporters had shown up at his home. And now, seeing these two beautiful and majestic dogs recovering from such injuries was one thing more that he could not bear.

  He closed his eyes tightly and prayed, as he fought to maintain composure.

  How much longer, Lord? How long do I have to withstand this? When will this trial be over? When will my salvation come?

  Westley’s voice dug at him like a knife. “Did you help Boyd Sullivan do this?”

  “Of course not!” Chase slapped the wall, feeling the sting of his bare hand on the plaster. Despite what his grandfather might have drilled into him as a little boy, sometimes heroes didn’t maintain their composure, as Maisy had reminded him by pointing out that Jesus cried. Well, Jesus had gotten emotional and shouted too sometimes.

  “I don’t know if you brought me here to accuse me, trick me or try to trap me!” Chase turned and faced Westley full-on. “But I give you my word, as a man, an airman and a father, that I had absolutely nothing to do with what happened to those beautiful animals. I love and respect my country, my uniform, the men, women and canines I serve alongside, and my own daughter too much to ever do anything to help Boyd Sullivan.”

  “What if he threatened you?” Westley crossed his arms. “Or blackmailed you?”

  Chase’s chin rose. “Then I’d sooner face it head-on than do anything that made me ashamed to look my daughter in the eye.”

  Silence spread between the two men, long and deep, like that of two airmen, weapons at the ready in no man’s land, trying to determine who was friend and who was foe.

  Then Westley’s shoulders relaxed.

  “I’m recommending a reassessment of Queenie at the end of next week,” he said. “Then we can determine if Queenie needs to restart any of her training, and if she should be reassigned. I’m hoping the matters you’re dealing with will be resolved by then. It appears you and she have a solid connection and it would be good if you could stay partners.”

  Did this mean Westley believed he was innocent? Or that he was at least willing to give him the benefit of the doubt? Either way, it was a bigger vote of confidence than he’d felt in a while.

  “Thank you,” he said. “Hopefully this will all be over soon.”

  “Hopefully,” Westley agreed. They walked back through the building, with his Queenie trotting on one side and Westley’s Dakota on the other.

  “One more thing,” Westley said as they reached the door. “Maisy is like family to Felicity and me. There are a lot of us who would hate to see anyone hurt her.”

  “Yes, sir.” Chase nodded. “Believe me, I would hate to see her hurt as well.”

  “It’s good we understand each other.”

  Chase waited in the entranceway to the building for a long moment after Westley had walked away and braced himself, hoping he wouldn’t have to face a fresh throng of reporters outside. Then he stepped outside, glanced at his truck and frowned. A second news van had joined the first one. Four reporters, two with cameras, clustered around his truck. Thankfully, they didn’t seem to have noticed him yet and he didn’t much feel like walking past them. Hopefully, the fact that they’d followed him here meant they were no longer staking out his house. He was only a twenty-minute walk from Sunny Seeds. If he left his truck at the training center, walked to pick up Allie and walked her home, he might be able to slip in his back door before the phalanx of reporters caught up with him again. Of course, then he’d have the problem of how to come back and pick his truck up later. But he could only handle one thing at a time and right now, something inside him was itching to just walk and clear his head.

  He turned sharply and led Queenie between the K-9 training center and veterinary building, then started strolling through the quiet base backstreets. To his left lay the church where he’d sat in the back during Maisy’s father’s funeral in April, his heart twisting in knots as he’d seen the tears in Maisy’s eyes, and the training facilities where he’d sweated through basic training many years earlier, all while those same dazzling blue eyes did a number on his heart. Just like the memory of kissing Maisy by the waterfall was making that same sorry heart beat something fierce inside his chest now.

  He cut right and walked along the perimeter fence that separated the base from the woods. He’d never imagined it was even possible to miss someone who he’d spent the day with and seen just an hour ago. And yet, he missed Maisy, as if a part of his own heart was hers. Would reporters be camped outside her home too? How would she feel when she woke up in the morning and had no job to go to, and gossip reporters questioning if she’d helped her own father’s killer?

  Ahead loomed the large warehouse complex that housed equipment, weapons, vehicles and supplies to be shipped by truck, plane and boat to Afghanistan. He’d once had an office in the very middle of that complex before he’d started his K-9 training, when he was still responsible for ensuring the security of shipments. His former boss, Captain Jennifer Reardon, worked in there now. Would she still be in her office? Had she had any progress in accessing Ajay Joseph’s files? It was a shot in the dark. But sometimes that was the only type of shot left to take.

  He turned and led Queenie toward the building. They entered the comforting coolness of the warehouse. A block of offices sat deep inside the expansive building with large windows looking out into the warehouse, as if someone had plucked a single floor off a regular office building and dropped it in the middle of a sea of forklifts, equipment and loading bays. The building was mostly empty, but even as he passed, the few airmen and support staff that were still on the floor seemed to avert their gaze. What would he have seen if he’d looked in their faces? Suspicion? Doubt? Hostility? Or just confusion? Was this how it would always be? Walking through his former life like a ghost of the man he used to be?

  He reached the offices. Captain Reardon’s light was still on. Through the half-pulled blinds of her huge office window, he could see two figures. Looked like she was in a meeting.

  His footsteps paused a few paces from her office door. He’d wait.

  A yip dragged his attention back down to his feet. Queenie tugged hard on her leash and whimpered with that little whine of impatience that told him she smelled something important and wanted to go search for it. She’d been like that when he’d first started training her. He’d had to drill into her that she only searched on command and not whenever she smelled something she thought she was supposed to find. Beagles had one of the best noses for tracking and he knew they could tracks things over long distances. But he couldn’t imagine how many laptops, computers, cell phones and electronic storage devices were in these offices, not to mention the warehouse. Did this mean she was forgetting her training already? He could only hope all the progress she’d made wouldn’t be lost because of him.

  “Leave it,” he said. “When we get home, we can train.”

  She tugged harder, pulling him toward Captain Reardon’s office door. She looked up at him, eager and impatient. Then she howled, with a yelp that was a mixture of urgency and excitement.

  The office blind moved back. The calm, calculating gaze of Captain Justin Blackwood met his through Captain Reardon’s office window. So, at least one of the men investigating him was in his former boss’s office. Queenie’s howls grew louder and sharper, echoing through the warehouse. More faces appeared at other office windows now, making him feel like even more of a spectacle. Justin’s eyebrows rose, just as heat rose to the back of Chase’s neck. His cell phone began to ring, its tinny sound combining with the cacophony of his frantic dog.

  He glanced at the screen. It was Maisy.

  “Come on.” He tugged Queenie’s lead. “We’ll go wait for Captain Reardon outside.”

  The phone stopped ringing. He suspect
ed the call had dropped. Cell phone reception had always been lousy in the warehouse, not that Maisy would be able to hear him anyway, with Queenie kicking up a fuss. Queenie was still yipping as he firmly led her back through the warehouse toward the exit.

  What had he been thinking just showing up at her office like that? He’d probably shot whatever remaining credibility he had with Captain Blackwood by showing what little control he had over his canine. He slipped back outside into the evening light and leaned against the wall. Queenie had gone quiet. He looked down. Her ears drooped.

  “What was that all about?” he asked. “What did you smell that was so important?”

  His phone started ringing again. He answered. “Hello?”

  “Hey, Chase.” Maisy’s voice was faint and yet something about it sent warmth spreading through his core. “Allie’s awake and I’m done here. I was wondering when you were going to be back and if you wanted me to figure out something for dinner. I could take Allie back to my place and cook us something.”

  Did she have any idea how much he’d have enjoyed that? He was less than a ten-minute walk from Sunny Seeds now. He could probably run it in under five.

  “Thanks for the offer, but I’ll be there soon to take her home,” he said. “There were reporters in front of my house and the K-9 training center. So you might want to keep the curtains shut and plan to have someone accompany you home tonight.”

  “Okay.” There was something tentative about her voice, like she was trying to hide disappointment. “I’ll see you later.”

  “See you soon.” He ended the call.

  Evening breezes brushed the trees beyond the perimeter fence. The memory of the feel of Maisy in his arms quickened his pulse. He should’ve never let them get that close. She’d been sad, they’d both been vulnerable and something inside had drawn them together, like two survivors of the same storm. And now she was stuck to the pieces of his broken heart, and the longer it took before they yanked apart and went their separate ways, the harder it would be.

  The blow came out of nowhere, striking him on the back of his skull so hard he felt his knees buckle. The ground rushed toward him. Instinctively, he dropped Queenie’s leash as he fell, barely managing to curl into a protective front roll as his body tumbled over the pavement. He leaped up and spun back with his hands raised ready to fight.

  A panicked yelp filled his ears and his eyes caught a figure in a dark hoodie disappear down the alley, the frightened beagle clutched to their chest.

  Someone was kidnapping Queenie.

  ELEVEN

  The figure darted around the corner as Queenie’s panicked howls filled the air.

  “Hey! Stop!” Chase ran after them.

  There was no way he was going to let anyone get away with hurting his canine partner. He sprinted around the corner into a side alley, just in time to hear a yelp of pain and a car door slam. A hooded figure in a baseball cap leaped in the door of a small compact car. Queenie’s frantic barks sounded from inside the vehicle. The small dog clawed at the passenger window. Chase’s heart pounded.

  No! The single thought beat through his chest, spurring his legs to move faster. They were not going to hurt Queenie. The vehicle sped down the alley with Queenie inside, howling and yelping for his help. Whoever they were, whatever they wanted, they were not going to get his dog. She was his partner. He was going to protect her with his life. The vehicle darted right and through the empty backstreets, racing down Canyon’s back road. His feet pounded down the pavement. The driver swerved wildly, fighting to keep the vehicle straight. Seemed Queenie was putting up a fight. He ran after it, pushing his body past the breaking point, even as he knew he’d never catch up with the car on foot. Where could they go? Where could they hide? The vehicle turned sharply, and suddenly he realized they were making a run for the back perimeter fence. The fastest route there mapped in his mind. The vehicle would have to slow around cement barriers and speed bumps before it reached the perimeter. If he stayed on foot, he could cut them off. He was going to save his dog. He was going to stop this vehicle. He ducked through a back alley, zigzagging through an empty cut through, then he hopped over a short wall and sprinted for the fence.

  He stopped, panting and looking down the empty road ahead. The vehicle was nowhere to be seen. He’d been wrong. He’d lost the car and Queenie along with it. He groaned, agony filling his prayer. Help me, Lord, what do I do? How do I find her?

  A vehicle shot around the corner. A dark hood masked the figure’s face. Queenie howled furiously and victoriously, as if she knew Chase was ahead, waiting for her. Without any further thought to his own safety, he leaped in front of the car. The driver hit the brakes. The vehicle spun as tires screeched.

  The car crashed through the perimeter fence, rolling and tumbling as it fell down the incline into the ravine forest below, landing in a pond.

  Chase’s feet stumbled to a stop. The empty hole of the broken fence loomed ahead of him. Justin had warned him the next time he stepped through that fence without permission it could cost him his freedom. But what mattered more? His freedom or his canine partner’s life?

  He leaped through the fence and scrambled down the hill toward where the vehicle was sinking into the murky water. He kicked off his boots and yanked his phone from his pocket, thankful that Captain Blackwood’s number was still near the top of his recent call list.

  “Good afternoon, Captain Blackwood—”

  “It’s Chase,” he interrupted. “I’m outside the perimeter fence. Southwest side. Behind the warehouses. Saving my canine partner’s life.”

  He dropped the phone in his boot on the shore and plunged into the pond. Queenie’s panicked howls sounded over the water. She was trapped in the car. It was going under. He splashed through sharp rocks and murky weeds, then he dove under and started swimming hard for the car. Before he could reach it, the door flew open. The hooded figure dove out, their soggy form thrashing furiously against the water as they swam for the far shore. The driver’s-side door hung open and water rushed through.

  But Queenie didn’t follow. Her frantic yelps grew desperate as the car dropped like a stone. The figure was getting away. If he didn’t stop them now, he might never know why they were terrorizing him. He might never be able to clear his name or get his life back.

  But if he went after them, Queenie would drown.

  There was no choice. He had to save his partner. He dove under, his powerful limbs propelling him toward the car. He grabbed the doorway and pushed himself inside, even as he felt it drop deeper underwater. Queenie swam herself into his arms, her paws scrambling against his biceps. He ran his hand along her harness and realized why she couldn’t swim. She’d been left there buckled into the seat belt. The injustice and cruelty of that swept through his chest like adrenaline. He fumbled for her lead, unclipped her and then pushed her past him, sending her body up toward the surface. He swam upward, as the car disappeared beneath him, and surfaced beside Queenie. The hooded figure was scrambling away deeper into the ravine, until they disappeared from view. Queenie licked his face furiously as he swam alongside her to shore.

  “It’s okay,” he said. “You’re a good dog. You’re such a good dog. I’ve got you now.”

  But the criminal who’d kidnapped her and terrorized his life was getting away, and with them the last hope he had to save his life and clear his name.

  * * *

  “The little black cat likes milk too,” Allie said, guiding the plastic animal into the blockhouse she and Maisy had built on the Sunny Seeds play table. So far, five people and sixteen animals had gathered around the sprawling meal that Allie had concocted. Maisy knelt beside her on the carpet, pulled figures and plastic food from the bins and set them on the table, as Allie seriously considered each one in turn. “White bear likes cookies. Baby wants cupcakes.”

  Maisy’s eyes rose to the clock. It had been hal
f an hour since she’d heard from Chase. Allie had woken up with that kind of boundless, happy energy that only little children seemed to have, and Maisy had found herself needing to fight hard to keep at bay the tears that had been pricking at her eyes. If she hadn’t promised Chase that she’d meet him here, she’d have put her spare car seat in her car and taken Allie home.

  She needed to get out of Sunny Seeds. She needed to be somewhere safe, where she belonged. Every inch and corner of the preschool held another reminder of the faceless mob in the anonymous blogger’s comment section, demanding she lose her job. She’d read the blog again, including all 213 comments. The level of gossip that people were willing to spread about a total stranger was so hateful and vicious it broke her heart. It wasn’t just herself, but first Zoe and then Chase, who had also been tried and sentenced by social media. Knowing that made the pain in her heart burn with such a righteous anger that when he’d told her there might be reporters outside her home, she’d wanted to rush home with her head held high and confront them.

  Clint Lockwood’s daughter never backed down from a fight. Now, here she was feeling trapped in the one place she didn’t want to be, waiting on a man. It was an uncomfortable feeling. But something about Allie’s voice, happily chirping beside her as she set up her imaginary party, helped her hold it together.

  “How about the airman?” Maisy asked, holding up a figure in camouflage. Normally, the military figures were the most popular toys in the classroom and she practically spent all day refereeing how they were shared. She had to admit there was something fun about having the classroom all to themselves. “Do you think he’d like to sit next to the firefighter or the bunny?”

  Allie wrinkled her nose. “No! He’s a bad man.”

  “Members of the United States military are our heroes. It’s their job to protect us and keep us safe.” The reassuring words flew automatically from Maisy’s lips. It wasn’t the first time one of her students had reacted badly to a toy or a picture of someone in uniform, just like a student occasionally was afraid of things like dogs, snakes, cars or water. Her instinct was always to defuse the moment lovingly and with logic. “Airmen look out for us and protect us. They’re good men and women, like your daddy.”