by D. D. Ayres
“Go on.”
Shay glanced away, flushing with annoyance. Definitely, this guy was a cop.
“She was leaving when I decided something wasn’t right. Prince wasn’t showing any signs of aggression or anxiety. He even ignored a kitten that got loose from its owner and wandered over to brush up against him before being retrieved. So I stopped her and said that I’d fudge a few things, and personally take care of her dog.”
“You let her think you’d destroy him?”
Shay smirked at her interrogator. “I let her think what she wanted to think so she’d leave him with me. She actually gave me a ten-dollar tip.”
“That was fast thinking, Shay.” The deputy looked at James for confirmation.
James nodded. “No argument with you there.”
Shay let the deputy’s praise wash over her as she knelt down and hugged Prince’s neck.
The action exposed a collar James had not seen before. It was royal blue with rhinestones and silver studs. He winced at seeing his partner decorated like some kind of show dog. Yet he couldn’t fault the instincts of the woman before him for recognizing what a great dog Bogart was.
As for Bogart’s would-be executioner, an ugly suspicion had begun to creep into his mind. “Describe the woman who brought him in.”
Shay was really beginning to hate the way this man talked in commands. “Tall. Lots of blond hair and makeup. With big boobs. Your type, right?”
Shay was surprised to see her interrogator blush. Then she realized it wasn’t embarrassment but the seething complexion of a man about to blow his top.
“Any of this making sense to you, son?” Deputy Ward watched James with a raised brow.
“Yes, sir. Though I never would have thought—” James quashed the expletive that accompanied any thought of Jaylynn Turner. She had been a three-month nightmare in his life. He should have listened to … hell, everyone. His friends, his sisters, even Bogart seemed to find fault with her. She was just one of those dumb things men sometimes succumb to when they were following their dicks.
But never in a million years would he have thought she would stoop so low as to steal Bogart, and then try to have him put down.
Another thought struck him, one that made him queasy. He eyed Bogart with some anxiety. “They neuter animals before they’re allowed out for adoption.”
Shay seethed under the glare of his stare. Even his questions didn’t end in question marks. “It wasn’t a formal adoption.”
James’s exhale of relief was audible. “I guess I owe you a debt there.”
She snorted. “I didn’t do it for you. The shelter people agreed that because she handed him over to me, personally, there was no need for an adoption.”
“Well, then, no harm done.” The deputy hooked his thumbs in his belt, all smiles to have the matter settled. “I’ve known Shay a long time. I can vouch for her.”
Shay felt the hair rise on the back of her neck. “Excuse me, Deputy Ward. I’m not the one who needs a character reference here. He broke into my house.”
As she said this Prince decided he’d been obedient long enough. He leaped up on her, barking and wagging his tail.
Trying to hold on to her outrage under the onslaught of Prince’s doggy affection, she hauled him in by the collar. “My dog needs to go out before he pees all over the place. Excuse me.”
She walked over to her door and reached once again for the leash, and a net bag that she slung over a shoulder. To her consternation Prince wasn’t the only one to follow her. Her intruder crossed the room toward her.
After she snapped on Prince’s leash, she turned on him, thunder in her expression. “We don’t need company.”
James reached down and scratched Bogart behind the ears, smiling despite his anger at the situation. Bogart answered his affection with long wet licks of his hand and wrist. Happy for actual physical contact with the friend he’d thought he’d lost forever, he bent to allow Bogart to lick his face. No matter how awful the day, how tired or weary or worried he was, having Bogart within reach calmed him down.
It worked. In fact, his voice sounded almost mild when James stood up and spoke to Shay. “I’m coming with you.”
“Hold up, son.” Deputy Ward waved James toward him. “I’m calling this in. I may need some additional verification from you.” He stepped away from them as his radio crackled to life on his shoulder.
James bent down again. “I’m taking this damn decoration off before Bogart catches it on something and chokes.” He unsnapped her leash, released Bogart’s fancy blue collar and tossed it aside. He shoved a hand into one of the deep pockets in his camo pants and pulled out a nylon service collar with the word “police” spelled out in block letters. He strapped it around the dog’s neck.
When he stood up, James gave Shay his most intimidating look. “Don’t do anything stupid.”
Refusing to give him the satisfaction of an answer, Shay simply opened the door. Bogart shot through it like a furry cannonball. Without a backward glance, she followed at a more leisurely pace.
James stood in the open doorway to watch. His well-honed instincts about people told him that she wouldn’t skip out on the local deputy, yet he remained unable to take his eyes off her.
Once across the grassy expanse of lawn into the edge of the woods, Bogart went about taking care of his needs in rapid order. Only then did he come bounding back to Shay, who waited patiently in the middle of the yard.
The morning had turned into one of those glorious autumn days with bright golden light spiking between the trunks of bare-limbed trees near the horizon. The odor of freshly cut grass drifted in from across the lake, and James knew the chill of the crisp-smelling air would soon give way to the deep-South warmth of a buttered sunshine afternoon.
Bogart was loving it.
James watched in affection as his partner raced back toward Shay in long loping strides. He was a bit small for a Belgian Malinois, sixty-five pounds compared to the average size of the breed, whose weight could range upward of eighty pounds. The usual golden coat of the breed was in Bogart’s case so heavily peppered in places it looked as if he’d been rolling in ashes. And, like the most famous characters played by his Hollywood namesake, Bogart was often underestimated by strangers until put to the test. He was capable of staring down any suspect, leaning his slightly oversized head to one side as he assessed a situation, ready for action when intimidation didn’t work.
James smirked. His partner was a bit of a rascal, too. He liked to hide things and wait to be ordered to find them. And when he didn’t like someone—for instance a competitive girlfriend like Jaylynn—a shoe, or a purse, or even a cell phone might get “accidentally” chewed.
As James watched, Shay produced a brightly colored tennis ball from her bag and tossed it with the same good right arm she’d used to lob that branch at the mystery vehicle the night before.
James frowned as Bogart took off after the ball, wondering what that episode the night before had been about. He glanced back at the deputy who was busy calling on his radio, wondering if he should mention it. Of course a better question was, why hadn’t she mentioned it? One would have thought she’d have connected his intrusion to her unwelcome night visitor. Unless she knew who the visitor was.
His attention came back to Shay with renewed intensity. She was hiding something. He could feel it in his gut. She’d been afraid the night before but attacked anyway, just as she’d done with him. His hand still throbbed where she’d bitten him, even though she’d barely broken the skin. Scared but not cowed. Who was this woman?
She was athletic, no doubt about it. As she chased after dog and ball, she moved with the unconscious grace of a person who was at home in, not at constant odds with, her body. He was surprised to see her produce another ball. K-9s were taught to chase and hold, not play chase and retrieve. How had she discovered that?
She also obviously understood that Bogart had high energy and needed to be exercised regularly. H
er second throw was long and high. Bogart went after it at top speed.
James turned back and scanned the cabin’s central room, noticing that the only personal property on view was a laptop on the dining table. Had she looked up Belgian Malinois on the Web? Maybe that’s how she knew he needed to be managed with exercise and companionship.
Jaylynn never got that. The time he spent with his partner was not to slight her but to keep Bogart from becoming anxious and frustrated, which would lead to him becoming bored, and making mischief. For instance, chewing up a pair of her five-hundred-dollar shoes because Jaylynn couldn’t be bothered walking him on the one rare occasion when James wasn’t there to do it.
Shay’s cries of approval, as Bogart ran down another toss caught on the wind and came sailing back, snared his attention once again.
Encouraged by her responses, Bogart began to show off. No longer content to chase a ball after it landed, he ran out ahead of her throws. Then he stopped short and leaped high to snag the ball out of the air. Pretty soon he had lined up a group of six balls on his side of the field, placed side by side.
James couldn’t blame his partner for wanting to show off for this woman. Her laughter was full throated and a little husky in a way that made it a pleasure a man wanted to hear repeatedly, and often. It settled in his belly and moved lower down until it reached his groin.
Get a grip, Cannon.
When her supply was depleted, she walked out to retrieve the balls. As she picked up the final one, Bogart jumped on her, using his strong back legs to propel him forward. Shay fell sideways onto the grass.
Heart leaping into his throat, James jumped off the porch to go break up what could so easily turn dangerous for a dog trained to catch and hold a suspect. But before he covered more than six feet he again heard her laughter. It came in gurgles and spurts as she covered her face to keep her companion from licking every inch of it.
James paused to watch them with more than a little surprise. Never in a million years would Jaylynn have gotten down and dirty in the grass with a dog, especially not one who had a mouth full of teeth that could tear flesh. Or one that drooled in her hair as he playfully tugged Shay’s ponytail. It struck him that this was not something spontaneous between the two but a game they must have played often during the time they’d been together.
An alien feeling not unlike jealousy whipped through him.
At that moment Shay looked back at the cabin and noticed him watching her. She sat up, her smiles dissolving into a mask of dislike as she wrapped her arms protectively about Bogart’s neck.
Annoyed, James turned away. He didn’t like the feelings she’d stirred up in him. Even less did he like the fact he had noticed how her breasts jiggled beneath her hoodie, reminding him how he knew that she wasn’t wearing a bra.
How long since I’ve gotten laid?
James rubbed a hand down his face. He was exhausted. Not thinking right. Whatever was running through his mind and body was nothing more than the result of fatigue and casual lust. He needed lots of hot coffee. His stomach growled, reminding him that some eggs and pancakes and maybe a thick slice of ham wouldn’t be unwelcome, either.
Surprisingly, Shay came in right behind him with Bogart at her side, ears alert with interest and his tongue lolling from his mouth in satisfied fatigue. He came up to James and bumped his leg with his big head, which James immediately patted.
A little winded and even more disheveled than before, Shay ignored James as she walked over to the deputy who had just finished his radio conversation. “So what happens now?”
The deputy’s gaze shifted between the parties before him. “I suppose you can produce some paperwork with proof of ownership, Officer Cannon?”
James nodded. “I have it in my truck. It’s parked at a gas station about two miles from here. I can bring it by your office.”
Shay swung around on him. “He wasn’t chipped. We checked at the shelter. If this is your dog, and a service animal, why isn’t he chipped?”
Rather than answer directly, James made a gesture with his hand. Instantly Bogart went prone and then rolled over.
James knelt and reached for one of Bogart’s hind legs and pulled it wide as his fingers delved into the fine fringe of golden pelt at the base of his partner’s belly. There, just inside the hairline, were a series of tattooed numbers.
Shay glanced away. She knew about the tattoo but—dammit!
James looked up at the lawman bending over his shoulder. “Bogart was chipped in Germany. U.S. scanners can’t read them. That’s why I had my driver’s license number tattooed backward here. You can compare them if you want.”
The deputy straightened up. “I’m satisfied, Mr. Cannon. But there are formalities. So let’s go get your paperwork.”
“Wait just a minute.” Shay stepped forward. “I don’t care what kind of proof he has. He can’t just come in here and take my dog.”
The deputy sighed like a man who was accustomed to dealing with the public at its most illogical. “Now, Shay, you understand what happened and know what’s right. He’s got proof of ownership.”
“But Prince was abandoned!” Shay heard the rising anxiety in her voice but she couldn’t stop it. She turned to James. “I own him by right of—of salvage.”
James looked up at her. Doesn’t she know when a fight is over?
Forcing himself to remain detached, he rose to his feet. Yet he couldn’t block the effect her golden gaze had on him. Though he doubted he’d ever see her again, he knew he’d be a long time forgetting the righteous fury in her oh-so-expressive gaze.
“You’re right, Ms. Appleton. I owe you my thanks. You saved Bogart’s life.”
“You’re damn right I did.” Shay blinked back the very idea of tears, horrified that he might notice the telltale gleam. “And his name is Prince.”
Deputy Ward laid a hand on her shoulder. “The fact is, this man can prove the dog’s his. I’m sorry but that’s the way it is.”
James watched Shay chew the inside of her lip. He knew she was trying hard not to defend her position again. Despite the fact that he was sympathetic to her point of view, it wouldn’t alter the outcome. Bogart was his partner. They belonged together.
Still, that chewing got to him, on several levels, not the least of which was the feeling stirring in his pants. Standing there with her skewed ponytail and tousled bangs, she looked like an abandoned creature herself.
James turned away from the raw emotion in her face, as much to protect his peace of mind as her feelings.
Shay backed up against the wall as the lawman from Charlotte took her Prince by the collar and snapped on a leash he had produced from his pocket. She crossed her arms to rub the goose bumps that had arisen. She was an adult. She’d learned much too early how very unfair the world could be. She’d learned to expect less than most people from life. Yet …
Until this moment, somewhere deep inside her had lived the ridiculous hope that Prince really belonged to her, that it was all a misunderstanding and that, at the end of the day, he would be curled up against her as she slept. Now she could no longer deny it. Prince belonged to someone else.
The unfairness of it all overwhelmed her good sense, rising as a stinging heat up through her legs and thighs into her stomach and then up into her chest and neck and face. She couldn’t breathe. The only action inside her was the hard hammering of her heart. As the sensation ebbed away, taking her hope and leaving behind a great sense of loss and impotence, fury once again flared up within her.
“I want to press charges against this man, for trespassing.”
CHAPTER FOUR
Shay swung around on the deputy. “I want him arrested! I can demand that.”
Deputy Ward sighed the sigh of a man who sometimes hated his job. “You can. But I wouldn’t advise it.”
“Why? Because he’s a police officer?”
Deputy Ward tucked in his chin. “That’s not the issue.”
“He admitted to yo
u he broke in. You’re my witness.”
The deputy looked even more uncomfortable. “Can I speak with you a moment? In private.”
James looked around. “Do I smell coffee?” Without being invited, he headed toward a doorway through which a range top could be seen. Bogart followed obediently on the leash.
The deputy hitched up his pants before he began speaking in a low voice. “I know you’re fond of the dog but you don’t want to do this, Ms. Appleton.”
Shay breathed through her nose before replying. “All I want is my dog. I’ll drop the charges if I can keep Prince.”
“Uh-huh. But that’s not how it’s going to go down. And I got to warn you that attempting to take a law enforcement officer to court will be a sorry business. You’ve got a history of … let’s just call it unreliable behavior.”
“You mean because of what happened when I was a child?”
The deputy shifted from one foot to the other but there was sympathy in his gaze. “We’ve known you a long time, Shay. The sheriff and your mama were close friends. Did all he could for you two.” His gaze strayed away. “But we haven’t seen you in, what, three years? And last time you were here you reported seeing individuals on your property. That all turned out to be nothing.”
The heat of indignation flared so hotly Shay could scarcely draw breath. “So you think I’m either a liar or a nutcase?”
His gaze came back to her, his expression apologetic. “What I’m saying, Ms. Appleton, is you’ve got a history of being high-strung. Your mother, God rest her soul, did her best to protect you back then. But you’ve got an established pattern of erratic behavior. Heck, I almost didn’t rush over this morning on account of that. A good lawyer, if he did a little digging…” He lowered his voice. “Now you don’t want that.”
The word “digging” stopped Shay’s next argument even as it was forming. Heart hammering in rage, she looked away.
“All done?” James stepped out beyond the wall that had shielded him, no coffee cup in sight. As much as he craved that cup of coffee, he’d opted for information about Shay Appleton instead.
