“Corny? Yeah. I agree.”
“How did you get roped into making them?”
“My brother Micah is at Goodfellow Air Force Base. The wedding is going to be at the chapel there. Shelby—his fiancée—is finishing a residency at a hospital in Massachusetts and won’t be down here until right before the ceremony. Since I’m in Texas, my mother thought it would be easier for me to make them and transport them to San Angelo than for Shelby to have to transport them from New England.”
“That worked out nicely for Shelby.”
“I don’t mind. Shelby is a great person, and I’m really happy she’s marrying my brother. But things have been busy here, and I’m behind. Today is the day, though. I’m getting the favors done so poor Shelby has one less thing to worry about.” She grabbed a hymnal and stood as the pastor invited the congregation to sing the opening hymn.
He joined her, leaning close and whispering, “Since I’m the reason you’ve been so busy, I’ll help you with the favors.”
“That’s not necessary.”
“Yes, it is.”
“Justin—”
“Shh. You wouldn’t want the old ladies in the next pew over to start frowning the way they do when the pastor’s son is too loud.”
She laughed and didn’t continue the argument.
She might have thought he was joking, that there was no way he was planning to go to her house and spend the afternoon making wedding favors. If so, she was going to be surprised. He hadn’t been joking. He might not know anything about wedding favors, but he knew four hands working a task were better than two.
He also knew that spending time with Gretchen seemed like something he wouldn’t mind doing a lot more of.
* * *
They’d spent six hours making wedding favors. Six hours talking and laughing. Six hours that Gretchen refused to regret. She liked Justin. She enjoyed his company, and she was glad he’d insisted on helping out. Jobs were more fun when done with friends.
And that was what he’d said at the church.
That they were friends.
She could handle that. She could even appreciate it.
Being raised in a military family had meant making and losing friends often. She’d always been outgoing, and the process of meeting new people had never been difficult.
So, yeah. Calling Justin a friend was a natural extension of her life story.
Making sure he stayed in that category? That might be more difficult. He was too easy to talk to, too comfortable to be with. When she was around him, she forgot that her heart was broken. She forgot it needed to be protected. She forgot that loving someone meant risking losing him.
She packed a favor into the last unfilled box, tucking it in carefully. The label was completely dry, the handwritten calligraphy unsmudged.
“These looks great,” Justin said, handing her another jar. He’d filled it with chocolate kisses and screwed on the lid and wrapped a ribbon around it. “Your calligraphy skills are impressive.”
“I’ll have to tell my ninth-grade art teacher you said so. He was a master at it, and I wanted to learn, so he taught me.”
“I’m sure you’re regretting it right about now.” He gestured at the boxes of favors that sat against the living room wall.
“A cramp in my hand is a small price to pay for my brother and sister-in-law’s happiness,” she deadpanned.
“I hear that fresh air is good for hand cramps,” he said, handing her the last favor.
“Really?” She chuckled.
“No, but how about we take Quinn for a walk, anyway? Maybe grab a coffee. There’s a place right around the corner.”
She could think of a dozen reasons why that would be fun, and she couldn’t think of one reason to refuse.
“Quinn would enjoy it,” Justin added, and the Malinois lifted his head, his ears twitching. They’d picked him up after church, and he’d seemed content to lay on the floor or stare out the window. Now, though, he looked eager to get up. Get out. Do something. His tail thumped as Justin grabbed his leash and hooked it to his collar.
“I can’t say no now. He’d be too disappointed.” She grabbed her coat from the closet and handed Justin his. He was still wearing his dress clothes—black slacks and a blue shirt that matched his eyes. Polished shoes. He’d taken his tie off when he’d arrived, and his hair was mussed from running his hands through it.
Her palm itched to smooth the strands.
She handed him his jacket instead, opening the apartment door and stepping into the corridor.
Justin’s phone rang as they walked to the elevator, and he answered quickly. “Hello? Yes.”
He glanced at Gretchen and mouthed, Ava Esposito.
“Do you have GPS coordinates?...Send them to me and clear out. Don’t go in. If Rusty is there, Sullivan could be there, too...Yeah. You’re right. Olio’s operatives are probably more likely. I still want you to stand down and wait for backup to arrive.”
“Rusty Morton?” Gretchen asked, her heart thumping wildly.
He nodded, stepping away from the elevator and pulling her back to her apartment as he finished his conversation with Ava.
She unlocked the apartment door and ushered him in, leaving him in the living room as she ran to gear up. If Rusty had been spotted, she’d need to be ready to go to work.
The team was eager to speak with him about the still-missing dogs. Like many on the case, she felt confident he’d somehow been involved in their disappearance. She wanted to know where he’d taken them, whether he’d sold them to the Olio Crime Syndicate and where they were currently located.
She wanted them returned.
The three missing German shepherds were financially valuable, but they had intrinsic value, as well. They’d been part of Canyon Air Force Base since they were puppies, and they needed to be returned home.
It didn’t take long to change into her uniform, take her service weapon from her gun safe and grab her backpack. As always, she kept it ready with water, food rations and a first-aid kit, along with everything she needed to stay warm and start a fire. Extra ammunition. Tactical gear. She wouldn’t need all of it on this mission, but she didn’t have time to repack.
She ran into the kitchen, grabbing a box of dog treats she kept for Quinn and other K-9 guests and shoving them into the pack.
“What are you doing?” Justin asked.
“Preparing. If Rusty is around, it’s possible some of the missing dogs are, too.”
“I hope so. I’m ready to reunite them with their military family. I’m also hoping to see Scout again. He’s a phenomenal K-9. I’d love for you to get a chance to meet him.” He scratched Quinn’s head. “Ready to work, boy?”
The dog barked once, rushing to the door and staring at Justin expectantly.
“Looks like you are,” he commented. “I need to stop by my house and grab my gear, Gretchen. I’m not sure what we’re going to find, but I’m going to assume we won’t be walking into a friendly situation.”
“Where are we heading?”
“A cave. From what Ava said, it’s off the beaten track. She was out hiking with Roscoe and heard someone walking through the woods. She thought it was Boyd and took cover. When Rusty appeared, she decided to follow him rather than attempt apprehension.”
“And he led her to a cave?”
“Ava said it’s really hard to see. If she hadn’t watched Rusty walk into it, she’s not sure she would have known it was there.”
“Should I radio in for backup?”
“No. I want to keep radio silence. Just in case.”
She didn’t ask what he meant. She knew he was worried about a leak, concerned that someone might be feeding information to the enemy.
She understood the concern. Boyd was smart, but the way he slipped through every trap they’d set for him was
uncanny and defied logic. “We could make some phone calls.”
“It’s Sunday evening, Gretchen. If we start pulling people away from their families and activities, the community is going to notice.”
“How about Oliver Davison? We don’t have any worries about the FBI being tied to Boyd or to Olio, and most people on base aren’t familiar with him,” she said. “I could give him a call. If we’re right about Rusty selling dogs to Olio, it’s possible he’s meeting some of their operatives.”
“Give him a call, and let’s hope that’s what’s going on. If we can catch a few high-level Olio operatives, we might be able to bring the entire organization down.”
“That would be a good day’s work,” she said, pulling out her phone and dialing Davison’s number as they hurried into the hall and onto the elevator.
NINE
The sun set early this time of year, and by the time Justin changed into his military uniform and grabbed his tactical gear, it was dusk, the sky dark with evening clouds. Raindrops splattered the windshield, and he turned on the wipers. A storm would be a blessing—the sound of falling rain and thunder masking their approach to the cave.
He was curious to find out why Rusty was at the caves.
The dog trainer had been missing from base for a couple of weeks. He wasn’t suspected of freeing the dogs, and if he’d stuck around and answered some questions, he’d probably have been removed from the person-of-interest list. After all, the team had no doubt that Boyd was responsible for the deaths of the two trainers who’d been at the kennels the night the dogs were released, and they were certain he’d been the one to let the dogs go. The team had planned to question Rusty regarding his whereabouts that night.
But he’d run. Innocent people generally didn’t do that.
They usually assumed that justice would prevail, that truth would win, and that no matter what the authorities believed, their innocence would be proven.
Rusty had gone into hiding, and he’d had a reason.
Justin was eager to find out what it was.
If, somehow, the trainer was connected to Olio, it was possible the FBI would use him to close down the crime ring.
“What are you thinking?” Gretchen asked as he pulled into the lot where Ava had left her vehicle. He could see it—a white SUV parked beneath a streetlight. He pulled up beside it and parked, switching off the ignition and turning to face Gretchen. They’d spent the afternoon together—laughing and making labels for jars of candy. Talking. Sharing. And now they were going to spend the evening bringing in criminals.
Something about that felt right and good, as if all the pieces of his life had finally come together.
He wanted to tell Gretchen that, but time was ticking, and Ava was in the woods, waiting for backup to arrive.
That had to be his focus and his priority.
“I’m thinking that this is the break we’ve been waiting for.”
“Are we going to wait for Oliver?”
“I sent him the coordinates. He’ll be here as soon as he can. Right now, it’s just us. And Quinn.” He jumped out of the SUV, and she did the same, standing beside him as he opened the hatch and released Quinn.
The Malinois sensed Justin’s excitement and adrenaline. He lunged against the leash, eager to get into the woods and onto the trail. But Justin didn’t release him. He didn’t want Quinn giving away their presence.
Rusty knew the dogs who were part of the K-9 unit. He’d worked with Quinn on several occasions, and he’d know an alert bark if he heard it.
He’d know any bark was bad news, but hearing Quinn would set off more than alarm bells. It would send him running.
Justin wanted him to stay put, dry and cozy in the cave. Oblivious to the fact that he’d been found.
He glanced at his GPS, adjusted his trajectory, heading up a hill and through a thicket filled with brambles. Gretchen was right behind him, moving almost silently, the only sound the soft crack of branches and the quiet thud of her feet on the muddy earth.
As they walked, rain poured from the sky, falling in cold, fat drops. They slid down his head and his cheeks, pooling in the hollow of his throat and sliding under his coat and shirt. The temperature had dropped dramatically, and he wouldn’t be surprised if a few snowflakes fell.
They walked three miles, crossed a creek that he remembered from one of his longer treks into the woods, and then down a steep slope.
It was quiet here. Cut off from the houses, business and traffic. Far enough away from roads to seem almost prehistoric in its beauty—thick vines hanging from old trees, rotting logs lying across sapling trees. Mushrooms and other fungi growing out of tree stumps. No hint of civilization. No trash. No broken bottles or plastic bags. The ground almost marsh-like, the air filled with the pungent scent of rotting leaves.
According to the GPS coordinates, the cave should have been a hundred yards ahead. He moved in that direction, the rain muting his footsteps and Quinn’s soft whine. The dog’s ears were down, his tail up, his scruff raised.
He smelled another dog.
Justin couldn’t see one.
And he still couldn’t see the cave.
A shadow moved to his right, and he whirled to face it, relaxing when Ava stepped into view. Roscoe was beside her, his blond fur dark with rain, his eyes bright. He looked happy to see friends, but stayed by her side, quietly moving through the foliage.
“You made it,” Ava whispered as she reached Justin’s side.
“Anyone else arrive?” he asked quietly.
“I’m afraid not.”
“That might not be a bad thing,” Gretchen said. “If the cave is big enough for him to hide in, it’s big enough for firearms and explosives to be stored in. He could be well prepared to defend his position.”
“If he’s been hiding there,” Ava responded. “I’m pretty certain he was carrying dog food. He had a bag over his shoulder. I couldn’t get close enough to see what it was.”
“This would be the perfect place to keep the dogs,” Justin murmured. The area was remote enough to keep them from being heard and discovered. “Where’s the cave?”
“This way.” Ava led them through the woods, confident and relaxed. No sign that she’d been afraid or worried. Justin wasn’t surprised. She had a reputation for being one of the best on the K-9 Search and Rescue team.
She stopped near a huge oak, standing beneath its thick limbs and pointing to the west. “There. See where the boulders are piled up?”
He did. Three large boulders, sitting against the face of a small hill. “Yes, but I don’t see a cave.”
“It’s behind the boulders. Which is probably why none of us has ever been in it. This place isn’t exactly easily accessible.”
“No, but it sure does make a great place to keep something you don’t want anyone to find,” Gretchen said quietly, taking a step forward.
“You two stay back,” Justin told them. “Quinn and I are going to take a look.”
“I’m not sure that’s the best idea, Captain,” Ava said. “It might be better to call for some tear gas. I’d rather have him come to us than go to him when we have no idea what’s he’s got in there.”
“I’d consider that if I were certain he didn’t have any of our missing K-9s in there.”
“Justin,” Gretchen said, grabbing his wrist. “I agree with Ava. It’s too dangerous. You have no field of vision. No way of knowing how many people might be in that cave.”
“I have Quinn,” he reminded her. “He’ll be my eyes and ears.”
“I’ll go with you, then. There’s strength in numbers.”
“Any other time, I’d agree,” he said, “but we don’t know if he’s meeting someone here. We don’t know if Olio has operatives heading in this direction, and we don’t know if Boyd is around. I want you to stay here and stop anyone who trie
s to enter the cave after I go in.”
“Justin—” she began, but he cut off her argument.
“We’re moving ahead with my plan. Stay here. If I need help, you’ll know it.” He unhooked Quinn’s leash and gave him the command to heel. They moved side by side, stepping between ancient pines and younger oaks. Visibility was limited in the rain and dusk, and he was glad. If he was having difficulty seeing what he knew was there, Rusty would have trouble seeing something he wasn’t expecting.
And Rusty had no reason to expect someone to be approaching.
Not unless he was meeting someone.
And, even then, he wouldn’t have reason to be standing watch.
Justin approached the cave cautiously, keeping to the tree line until he had a clear view of the boulders. As Ava had said, there was no visual of the cave beyond. It really was the perfect place to hide something or someone. If the team’s theory was correct, Rusty had sold Patriot to the Olio Crime Syndicate. If the other dogs were in the cave, he’d either had second thoughts or he’d been bargaining for more money.
Justin had a feeling the latter was unlikely. Rusty was a good K-9 trainer but hadn’t had a commanding enough personality to move quickly up through the ranks. It was doubtful he’d want to bargain with a syndicate that might decide they’d had enough and kill him.
On the other hand, Rusty had always seemed to care about the dogs. He’d spoken highly of the German shepherds who were missing, and he’d seemed legitimately upset about the trainers who’d been killed. It seemed more likely he’d seen the freed dogs as an opportunity to make some extra money and had then come to regret the deal and had brought the dogs to the cave while he tried to figure out how to rectify his mistake.
As far as Justin was concerned, there was no time like the present to find out the truth. He reached the boulders, Quinn heeling so closely they were almost touching. This was how they worked when they were moving through enemy territory. Pressed together and ready to defend one another.
Light danced on the ground to the left of the boulders. A high-powered lantern rather than fire. The air was chilly and damp, filled with the scent of rain and wet earth. Not a hint of smoke.
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