She noted Sean’s sigh. Perhaps she was being too outspoken. Then again, maybe bluntness was just what he needed. It was possible to love someone or something so much you didn’t give it the opportunity to learn and grow. The same was true of the canines in the various programs. If they weren’t pushed, they’d not only fail to make progress, they might regress. Training was a daily necessity, as was affection. Each had its place and time.
Leading the way, Zoe entered with the dog at her heels, leaving the door open behind them. When she turned, Sean was gently lowering Patrick to the floor and bending to speak to him.
“I’ll be right back, buddy. I have to go get your tangerines and the other stuff we bought. You watch the dog for us like you did at the store, okay?”
The tousled, blond head nodded without hesitation. “Good da.”
“Dog.” Sean put emphasis on the final letter. “Daw—guh.”
To Zoe’s surprise and joy, Patrick repeated it perfectly. She would have cheered if she hadn’t seen moisture gleaming in his father’s eyes. Every small step was a triumph, every properly annunciated word a victory.
“Thank You, Lord, for letting me be a part of this amazing healing process,” she whispered, blinking back her own tears. She’d thought her offer of assistance was meant for one person, and it was actually going to benefit at least two.
Make that three, she added. Not only had her heavenly Father reunited dear friends, He had placed her in a position to render aid and share blessings. No amount of threat, no lowlife with an evil agenda, was going to steal that from her. Not now. Not ever again.
* * *
The scheduled visit with lead K-9 trainer, Sophie Williams, and Ellen Foxcroft, the founder of the assistance dog program, took place as scheduled at Zoe’s house. Sean liked both women, and Zoe’s introduction of him and his disabled son wasn’t maudlin. As a matter of fact, it was so uplifting he wondered if she’d talked her associates right out of helping him.
“I never claimed to be totally helpless,” he told the women with a nod toward Patrick. “But as you can see, there are special circumstances. I not only need to be able to function for my own sake, I need to be there for my son. As much as it pains me to admit it, I’m not myself.” His elbows were propped on his knees, his hands joined between them while he toyed with his wedding band.
Ellen mirrored his pose. Her reddish hair hung in a single braid down her back. Her gaze was tender. “I know how hard this is for you, Mr. Murphy. The human body sometimes deals with intense trauma in ways that go against everything we expect. That doesn’t make us less of a person. It’s how we cope with the aftereffects of disaster that will define who and what we become. By asking for help you’ve taken a big step, and I want to tell you how impressed I am.”
“Just get me well for Patrick,” Sean said with passion. “I don’t care what it takes. Whatever I have to do, I’ll do it. I promise.”
“I know you will.” She glanced at Sophie. “What do you think of giving Angel another chance?”
The lead trainer smiled and shook her head. “It’s easy to see why the folks who donated her named her Ding-a-ling. She really is a sweetheart, but do you really think she’s salvageable?”
Zoe had been fidgeting. Now she spoke up. “Why Angel? I mean, she’s lovable and partially trained in several disciplines, but she’s also terribly headstrong and easily distracted.”
“Exactly why she needs a strong, forceful, determined man as her partner,” Ellen replied. “Mr. Murphy is right about not being as badly affected as many of our clients, so why not let him give Angel a try? It’s that or wash her out of all our programs.”
Watching his old friend’s expression, Sean could tell she was mulling over the suggestion. A misfit dog for a misfit soldier. What could be better?
Zoe finally nodded. “Okay. How can I help?”
“We’ll do introductions first thing in the morning. Bring everybody involved to the training center with you but don’t wear your uniform. We want that meeting to be as casual as possible so we can judge Angel’s reactions. If she passes that test, we’ll make up a training schedule.”
The women stood, as did Sean. “Thank you, both,” he said.
Sophie nodded and shook Sean’s hand, then paused and looked to Zoe. “By the way, what was the disturbance at the market all about? I understand from Ryder that a threat may have followed Mr. Murphy to Desert Valley, after all.”
Sean knew she was referring to the chief of police, Ryder Hayes, the same person who had sent for the report about his break-in back in St. Louis.
“It started when I thought I saw somebody who had caused me trouble in St. Louis,” Sean explained. “It turned out they were driving a stolen truck and ditched it right before somebody took a potshot at Zoe’s car.”
Ellen nodded. “I heard we tried using James Harrison’s bloodhound, but he lost their trail. Do you think the incidents were connected?”
“I’m sure beginning to,” Zoe said. “Freya reacted to one of the guys when we were all in the store.”
Sophie nodded. “We’ll all need to be on alert. See you tomorrow morning at eight.”
Sean hung back as Zoe walked her friends to the door. Patrick had curled up on the sofa with Freya. The dog opened one eye, studied him for a second, then closed it, sighed and relaxed. If the new dog he was about to meet was half the canine companion Freya was, he’d be more than satisfied.
It suddenly struck him that canine senses were going to be the answer. If he felt threatened and the dog did not, then he’d know his imagination was in charge. If, however, the dog reacted as well, he could begin to trust his own senses. To trust himself.
What might it be like to actually lighten up and enjoy life again? Considering the way he’d been feeling, the concept sounded both enticing and out of reach.
Sean shivered, remembering the words of his attackers. They had been sent to kill him. That was all there was to it. If they were here, in Desert Valley, there was no way he’d ever be able to let down his guard. Not if he expected to live long enough to raise his child.
* * *
Zoe took a brief phone call later in the evening. She’d watched the tension building on her friend’s face as she’d listened, so the first thing she did was set Sean’s mind at ease. “That was Chief Hayes.”
“What now?”
“Good news, actually,” she said, smiling. “They were able to get usable prints off that stolen red truck. They belonged to local kids who have been in trouble here before, not hit men from St. Louis.”
“They’re sure?”
“Positive.”
“But, the guy we saw in the parking lot was no kid.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. In any case, they’re also running a partial palm print through the AFIS database to see if there are any matches.”
It pained her to see some of the starch go out of Sean’s spine. “You can’t convince me it’s all in my head, so don’t even try.”
“That’s not what I meant. We didn’t find any shell casings today, but the bullet in your apartment ceiling was plenty real.”
“True. I wish I had a better idea of who has it in for me. I haven’t been home long enough to have made new enemies, so it has to be somebody from my past.”
“Or Sandra’s,” Zoe said. “Did you pick up any of her stuff from her parents?”
“Nothing except clothes for Patrick and a few toys.”
“Could she have hidden drugs in those?”
“If she did, the proof is back in my old apartment. I left too fast to take much with me.”
“I could have Chief Hayes contact the St. Louis department and suggest they do a thorough search. The problem is, if they do turn up illicit drugs, it will look as if you were hiding them.”
“I hadn’t thought o
f that.”
Zoe shrugged. “At this time it’s a moot point. Anybody who thought you were hiding drugs has probably already ransacked the place. You can check when you’re done training here and then involve the police if you need to after Christmas. In the meantime I’ll be keeping careful watch, just in case. So will my colleagues.”
“Mentioning Christmas reminds me,” Sean said. “I can understand why you haven’t put up holiday decorations, but would you mind if I did a few things for Patrick?”
She clapped her hands. “I’d love it! I wasn’t even considering Christmas when I left Mesa in September.”
“Do you know where we can get a tree?”
“I do. The church youth are having a sale. And rehearsals are starting for the outdoor Christmas pageant, too. We can get Patrick involved in that when we go to church on Sunday.”
The off-putting look on his face was disappointing. “We don’t go to church.”
She made a face. “Why not? You used to.”
“Things change. People change.” He lowered his voice to add, “I’ve changed.”
“Fine. God hasn’t. And whether you admit it or not, your little boy needs to learn about faith. If you won’t go with us, Freya and I will take him.”
“I could stop you.”
“You could try.” Although she no longer wore her holster or uniform, she struck a dominant pose, feet apart, hands fisted on the hips of her jeans, shoulders back. Yes, she was being pushy. And, yes, Patrick was Sean’s responsibility. But she cared so much for both of them it was hard to stand back when she thought there was something she could do or say that would help.
“You’re actually serious.” Sean was frowning.
“You’re right. I am.”
“Okay, I’ll think about it.”
“You do that. And while you do, I’ll be praying that you come to your senses.”
“Why do you think faith makes sense?”
Zoe began to smile. “The very definition of faith is belief without seeing. You had it once.” She jabbed a finger at his chest. “It’s still in there. All you have to do is look.”
“I have,” Sean argued.
She wasn’t about to back down. Not when she was convinced he needed his former faith in order to complete his healing. “If I could loan you some of mine I would, but it’s an inside job. You can’t borrow it or catch it like a cold. You have to seek the Lord yourself.”
“God gave up on me long ago,” Sean said flatly.
Zoe couldn’t help smiling. Instead of continuing to argue, she merely said, “Then you might want to ask how you got here and why you escaped death when the bomb went off on your way to the airport and when those guys tried to kill you in St. Louis and since then, because it seems to me He’s rescued you over and over lately.”
The expression on her old friend’s face was painful to look at when he focused on his only child and said, “I’d gladly have traded those supposed rescues for Patrick’s well-being.”
Why did bad things happen? She had no idea. But she was certain of one thing. The only way she’d have survived the tragic loss of her baby brother was through a belief that they would someday be reunited in heaven.
And in the meantime, she intended to stand up for earthly justice as best she could. It was foolish to try to discern divine wisdom or assume she could figure out everything that was occurring. All she knew for sure was that she was glad Sean had come to her and brought his son. Anything beyond that would work out for the best.
Zoe didn’t know why she was so positive, but she wasn’t about to argue with her conclusions. If it became necessary for her to act as the law enforcement officer she was, then so be it. Rookie or not, she was ready.
Mulling over the recent call about the fingerprints in the stolen truck, she realized Sean was right. The figure they had seen get into it was no teenager. He’d not only looked like an adult, he’d moved like one. Heavy. Purposeful.
Dangerous? Maybe. Probably. She felt a shiver climb her spine like a squirrel skittering up the trunk of a ponderosa pine. At the same time she was encouraging Sean to relax, she was going to have to double her guard. And keep him from realizing it.
FIVE
Their first stop the following morning was to be the training center. Sean had made pancakes for all of them while Zoe tended to the coffee and helped Patrick dress. He had only allowed her to assist the boy because the doctors had recommended changing off caregivers to encourage independence. It had apparently worked because when she entered the kitchen, Patrick was holding her hand and walking. His gait was stiff and somewhat awkward, but he seemed far more capable than previously.
“We came for pancakes.” Zoe helped the boy into a chair and tucked a napkin under his chin.
When she paused and looked to Patrick, Sean heard him say, “Please.”
“My pleasure.” Deeply moved, Sean was turning away to tend the stove when his son added, “Please, Dad-dy.” The frying pan faded for a moment while he regained control of his emotions.
When he looked back at the table, Zoe was beaming. “Good, huh?”
“Very good. Thanks for helping.”
“Freya helped, too. She pulled on the toes of his socks while he tried to put them on. Patrick had to really fight to get them up.”
“By himself?” Sean was astonished.
“Yup. All by himself.”
“That’s wonderful.”
Zoe joined him at the stove. “Why don’t you let me finish cooking while you two eat? I’m used to grabbing a quick cup of coffee and whatever I can chew on the run.”
“Are we in a hurry?” Sean asked, suspicious.
“You do want to get started with your new dog, don’t you?”
His brows knit. “Yes. But I’m getting the idea that there’s more to your suggestion than you’re letting on. What is it?”
“Nothing. Just...”
“Just what, Zoe?” Instead of going to the table, he lingered close to her. “You may as well tell me. I’m not going to eat a bite until you do.”
“All right.” As she raised her face, he saw concern mirrored in the dark depths of her eyes. “They got a hit on the ballistics from the bullet fired in your apartment.”
“And?”
“And that gun had been used before. In multiple murders. Whoever came after you was no novice, even if he did behave like one that night.”
“Hit men? Somebody sent professional hit men after me? Why?”
“It’s anybody’s guess,” she said. “The only good thing about the information is that they’re unlikely to have left the metropolitan area and followed you here.”
If she had not been trembling slightly, Sean might have felt more comforted by her conclusion. Taking her elbow, he guided her to the table and urged her into one of the chairs. “Sit. I’ll bring you breakfast. And then we’ll go get my dog so I can be on my way.”
“It doesn’t work like that,” she insisted. “If you’re paired with one of Ellen’s assistance dogs, you have to stay in Desert Valley for training.”
Sean hesitated. Of course he had to stay. There was no way he’d get the help he needed unless he played by the rules. He filled three plates and delivered them to the table, then busied himself cutting Patrick’s food into bite-size pieces while he processed his dilemma.
“I see your point,” he finally said. “And I suppose it won’t help if I keep running. I was just trying to remove the danger from around you.”
“I’m not the one you should be worrying about,” she said. “After we see how Angel reacts to Patrick, we’ll take Patrick to the day care that I think is best.”
“I don’t want...”
“I know. You don’t want him away from you for a second. I get it. I do. But he’ll be safer mi
xed in with other kids than he is if he stays with you all the time. You’re the target, he isn’t.”
“Apparently. I just wish I knew why. The only important thing in my life is my son.”
Zoe frowned. “As far as you know. There has to be something else going on. Someone hired the hit men for a reason. And the guys who are after you seem to be high-end. Who do you know with money to burn?”
“Sandra’s parents, Alice and John Shepherd. But like I said, they’d hire a lawyer, not a thug.”
“If you say so.” She stuffed a bite of pancake into her mouth and licked her lips, momentarily distracting Sean and making him wonder what it would feel like to kiss that sweet mouth for real instead of only in his imagination. Shaking off the unwarranted thought, he said, “Okay. You’re right. We’ll go visit the day care. But I won’t promise I’ll leave him.”
“Fair enough.” Zoe licked her lips again, then reached for his mug. “More coffee?”
Sean was still staring at her tender, sweet mouth. “Huh?”
“Pay attention, Murphy. Do you want a refill?”
Sean merely nodded. He’d been paying attention, all right. To the wrong thing. The more time he spent with Zoe, the more he realized what a fool he had been to marry Sandra. He’d apparently been deluded by his youthful desires and had made the biggest mistake of his life; one it was too late to correct.
Or was it? Studying Zoe and admitting his own shortcomings, he concluded they would never be a good match. Not now. Not when she was so capable and he was damaged goods. Sadly, their chance for happiness had passed. He was simply pleased she’d stepped into his life long enough to render the kind of specialized aid for which she’d been trained.
Those thoughts led him further into the doldrums and left him wondering if she would consider looking after Patrick if something bad happened to him. It wasn’t fair to even suggest it, of course, yet he desperately wanted to be able to count on someone he trusted. To know his son would be loved and cared for if the assassins finally succeeded.
Maybe later he’d bring up the subject, Sean decided. If he lived long enough.
Rookie K-9 Unit Christmas Page 4
