by Sandra Owens
“Well, I guess it’s possible you saved me from being hit by a car. That would have just been the last straw on an already crap week. So thank you.” She glanced over at his dogs, both on their bellies, their attention glued on him. “I’m a veterinarian and to repay you, I’m offering my services free for a year.”
The bad, bad side of his brain almost had his mouth saying that he’d love to have her services for a year. The small part of him that was still civilized managed to stop his mouth from uttering the words.
“Not necessary,” he said, “but appreciate the offer. I do need to find a vet for them, and you’ll do just fine, but I pay as I go.”
“First visit is free then. My clinic is listed. Emerald Coast Animal Care. Night.”
And just like that, she was gone. “Good night, darlin’,” he softly said as she closed her door behind her. And he would be keeping an eye on her because whether or not she wanted to believe it, there was no doubt in his mind that whoever was driving that car had aimed right for her.
His interest in her had nothing to do with how sweet she’d tasted when he had kissed her. Nope, not a thing. Sally and Pretty Girl, sensing his mood as they so often did, trotted quietly alongside him into his house.
After making the first of his two drinks for the night, he went out to the porch and picked up his guitar. He strummed a few chords, then settled on the Clapton song bouncing around in his head, one he rarely played. As the sound of “Wonderful Tonight” curled around him, he closed his eyes and quietly sang the words while thinking of Riley Austin and the kiss they’d shared. When the song ended, he sat back and stared at the house across the street. He never should have kissed her.
“Soldier.”
The quiet voice stopped Cody. He motioned for his spotter to head on up to the roof of the building they’d scouted out a few days earlier. Cody was familiar with the occupants of the house across the alley. Covered in a burqa, Asra, the teenage girl who lived there with her parents and two brothers, beckoned him before disappearing inside.
He ran low to the other side of the street and ducked into the open door of her home, his Glock palmed in his hand. Taking off on his own was against regulations and foolhardy, but she’d given him good intel on the Taliban twice now. Her only condition had been that no one know about her. He understood. The Taliban would kill her and her family if they ever learned of her treachery.
Adjusting his eyes to the dusty shadows of the house, he zeroed in on Asra, doubled over and holding her stomach. She yanked away the material covering her face. Blood dripped from a cut on her neck. Every hair on his body stood on end. The situation was bad, but he wasn’t sure why. Had the Taliban somehow learned that she’d been passing their locations to him? He stepped toward her. It was quiet, too damn quiet.
The air behind him shifted, and he spun . . .
Drenched in sweat, Cody shot up, gasping for air. Nothing about the nightmare made sense. He didn’t know anyone named Asra, and was sure he’d never stepped inside her house. Why did he keep having this dream that always ended at the same place?
He’d only been injured once, but had no memory of what had happened. His team had found him unconscious on the street with a large knot on the back of his skull, so they assumed someone had hit him on the back of the head. Cody wasn’t so certain, but he had no other explanation. Yet, he couldn’t quite accept that anyone could have gotten that close without his sensing danger.
Since he had no desire to go back to sleep and risk the nightmare returning, he untangled his legs from the covers. Gray light poked in around the edges of the window blinds, telling him it was dawn. Plenty of time for a run before he had to leave for work. Pretty Girl and Sally, instantly leaving their beds when seeing him up and slipping on running clothes, pranced around his feet.
“Yeah, we’re going running.” They raced out of the room, then back in to see if he was coming. “Right behind you.” They took off again. At the edge of the yard, he clipped on their leashes, the signal that they could cross the boundary.
The early December morning was chilly, but nothing like Vermont, where he’d grown up and his parents still lived, at this time of year. It was also nothing like the winter nights in Afghanistan. Those were a ballbuster. Sometimes he missed Vermont’s winter snow, especially at Christmas, but since his time in the military, he’d become cynical where holidays were concerned.
His parents wanted him to come home for Christmas. He wasn’t sure they meant it. For the love of the son they’d never expected to have and didn’t understand, they politely sent him invitations to each of their college events, and for the love of them, he politely declined. He knew they’d been relieved he hadn’t made an appearance, and he’d been just as relieved to not have been stared at with distaste by his parents’ friends and colleagues, the son who’d disappointed the professors by not following them into academia.
If just one person asked how it felt to kill a human being, he feared he’d go ballistic. That question had been pointedly directed at him the last time he’d attended one of his parents’ socials. He had walked out the door without answering because his answer would have been, “Would you have rather seen me or one of my teammates killed?”
Don’t go there, Dog. Focusing on the sound of his feet slapping on the pavement and that of his dogs’ panting breaths, he fell back on his sniper training and let his mind go blank. Nothing else mattered but who was lined up in his sights, or at that moment, putting one foot in front of the other.
Damn, he was fucked up.
Pretty Girl whined, and Cody glanced down at her to see her chocolate-brown eyes were trained on him. Stupid dog was entirely too sensitive to his moods. He looked away from her inquisitive eyes, stumbling at seeing the woman running ahead of him, one whose sexy bottom he recognized. Catch up with her or turn around and pretend he’d not seen her? He slowed, trying to decide what to do. His saner self said to turn around. Kissing her had been too good for his peace of mind. If he got near her, he’d want to do it again.
Pretty Girl took the decision out of his hands by giving a bark of welcome, then Sally echoed her, giving his own deeper bark. Riley turned, jogging backward, and her gaze settled on his dogs as she smiled at them. Damn, he wished she’d smile at him like that. Or, maybe he didn’t wish that.
She ran in place, waiting for him to catch up, and when she finally met his eyes, her cheeks flushed and her smile seemed uncertain. Her gaze slid away as she returned her attention to the dogs. Was she embarrassed that she’d kissed him? When she knelt, he let the lines out on the leashes, giving the dogs permission to go to her.
“Hello, sweet things,” she said, scratching under their chins, laughing when both tried to lick her face. “You said this one’s name is Sally? You do realize he’s a boy, right?”
“I noticed. All my dogs are named after Eric Clapton songs. He doesn’t sing about men. Doesn’t seem to bother Sally, though.” He stepped closer, even though he should stay as far away from her as possible. “Behave, you two.” The dogs plopped their butts on the ground, peering up at him with their soulful brown eyes, as if he were denying them their fun.
“It’s okay. I’m used to being slurped by dogs.” She stood, and her eyes focused on the vicinity of his neck. “Listen, about last night, I—”
“Forgotten.” An outright lie. It would be a long time, if ever, that he’d forget how soft her lips were, how sweet she tasted. His gaze lowered to her mouth when she chewed on her bottom lip. Damn but he wanted her. But he was not for her. Until he got his head on straight, he wasn’t for anyone.
Riley was mortified. He’d already forgotten she had kissed him? Or more like, her kiss had been so out of line that the last thing he wanted to do was remember. His bristled dark cheeks, along with that intense focus he trained on her, made her insides feel like pudding. He probably hated pudding. Gah, just being near him made her silly.
From the haunted look in his eyes, though, he was probably a man she sh
ould avoid if she were smart. But there was something about him that tugged at the places inside her too long ignored. What to do about that?
She shook one leg, then the other. “Well, I guess I’ll finish my run. Wanna come?” His gaze slid over her, and his eyes darkened. Smoldering. There was no other word for the way he looked at her, and when she thought about what she’d said and his reaction, her cheeks felt like they were on fire.
He chuckled as he traced a finger over her bottom lip. “You have no idea how much I wanna, darlin’, but I’d best be heading home.”
“Bye,” she whispered to his retreating back. “Nice butt,” she added as he and his dogs rounded the corner.
The morning was normal, no emergencies, no poisoned animals. Riley breathed a sigh of relief as she pulled off her lab coat before heading for the small kitchen. Her staff of two, an assistant and an office manager, had gone out to lunch, and she welcomed an hour of quiet. After locking the door behind them, she stuck her head inside the refrigerator, eyeing the contents. Slim pickings. A container of lemon yogurt and a half-full package of cheese sticks were about it. That she’d forgotten to stop at the grocery store to restock on her way to work, she blamed on a man with caramel-colored eyes who had sucked all thoughts but those of him from her mind that morning.
“Damn brain-sucking zombies,” she muttered. With her meager lunch in hand, she went to her office. After a few minutes of debate, she picked up the phone and called Maria Buchanan. She had first met Maria when she had brought in her cat, Mouse. After several visits to Riley’s clinic with her cat, Maria and Riley had met for lunch one day and hit it off. They had since made lunch a weekly habit. Maybe Maria could talk her out of setting her sights on a man with a sexy cowboy name, a devastating dimple, and smoldering eyes.
A lunch date set up for the next day with her friend, Riley dug into her yogurt and cheese. She’d just finished when there was banging at the door. She glanced at the clock to see there was another thirty minutes until the clinic opened again, but if a pet owner had an emergency, she couldn’t ignore whoever wanted in.
Someday, she would be able to afford security cameras, but until then, the only way to see who was on the other side was to open the door, which she did. Janie Forester, with a cat wrapped in a towel, and her young daughter, Kellie, at her side, rushed into the waiting room.
“Please, Max is dying,” Kellie said, tears falling down her cheeks.
Riley took the bundle from Janie’s arms. The poor cat was seizing and bleeding from the nose, both signs of poisoning. Riley’s heart fell at knowing the cat was too far gone to save, but she would try, dammit.
“Stay here,” she said, taking Max and running to her exam room. At the moment she set the cat down on the table, he took his last breath. “I’m so sorry, baby.” As tears fell down her cheeks, she stroked the still animal’s fur. “I swear I’ll find out who did this to you. I swear it.” She wet a cloth, and after tidying the cat as well as she could, she went to a storage closet and removed one of the small pine boxes. Little caskets.
When she had been fourteen, the foster family where she lived at the time had had a small terrier. The dog had been the only thing in the world she’d been sure actually loved her. When it got sick and had to be euthanized, the veterinarian had handed her the dead animal to take home and bury. Remembering how callously Cricket had been treated, she had bought a supply of the velvet-lined boxes for small animals shortly after opening her practice. She didn’t charge anything for them. It was her way of trying to ease the pain of losing a beloved pet. Someday, maybe she could afford some bigger ones for the larger animals.
Or maybe the owners were so grieved that it didn’t matter to them. She didn’t know, only knew this was the part of her practice that she hated to the depths of her soul. After putting the cat inside, she returned to the waiting room. The little girl was tucked up under her mother’s arm, and they both gave Riley hopeful looks when she entered the room.
Riley shook her head, and Kellie burst into tears. “I’m so sorry.” Such inadequate words. Taking a seat next to Janie, she said, “I know this is a sad time for you both, but I need to ask you some questions. Would you rather stop back by later?”
“Do you . . . do you know what happened to him?” Kellie asked.
“I think so.” Riley took the girl’s hand.
Kellie hiccupped. “Can-can I see h-him?”
Brooke and Michelle returned from lunch, and when they saw the obviously upset family, they quietly headed for the back. “Brooke,” Riley said to her assistant. “Kellie has the hiccups. Would you take her to the kitchen and get her a glass of water?” She turned to Janie. “Is that all right? I’d like to speak to you privately.”
“Of course.” After Kellie left, Janie brushed her fingers across her cheeks, wiping away her tears. “You said you knew what killed Max. He was perfectly fine this morning.”
Riley went to the counter, leaned over it, and snatched a few tissues, bringing them to Janie. “I think he was poisoned.”
“Oh my God! I can’t imagine what he could’ve gotten into.”
After a short debate with herself, she decided not to say that she suspected someone was poisoning pets. “That’s why I’d like permission to do an autopsy.” At Janie’s hesitation, Riley added, “At no charge. It’s professional curiosity on my part.”
“It might upset Kellie.”
“She doesn’t have to know. In fact, I think it would be better not to tell her what I suspect. Afterward, I’ll call you to come get him. I’ve found that it helps children if they can have some kind of ceremony, and for the first week or two, they like to put flowers on their pet’s grave.”
“Do you think an autopsy’s necessary? I hate to think of any more being done to him. He was such a good cat.”
“I really do. Was Max an outside cat?”
Janie shook her head. “No, but he escaped sometimes. Usually when Kellie left for school. He’d go looking for her, which he did early this morning. I left soon after her to run some errands and didn’t even notice he had gotten out. I feel so bad. If only I’d searched for him.”
“Cats are the best of escape artists. You can’t blame yourself. Did you notice anything unusual? Anyone in your neighborhood that you didn’t recognize?”
“No, nothing. After Kellie came home from school, she found Max in the bushes. I have no idea where he spent his day.”
Although she hadn’t expected Janie to be able to point a finger at the bastard killing pets, she’d hoped for a clue of some kind.
“Look, Mama, isn’t she cute?” Kellie skipped to her mother, holding the three-month-old black-and-white kitten that had been left in a box at the clinic’s door a few days before. “Can I have her? Please? Please? Please?”
“I’m sorry. She heard the kitten meow and wanted to see it,” Brooke said, following Kellie back to the waiting room.
After a few minutes of begging by her daughter, Janie gave in. “Has she had her shots?”
Riley assured her that the kitten had all the vaccinations needed at that point.
“I’m going to name her Princess. Can I show her to Max so he’ll know I’m not crying too much?” Kellie turned to Riley. “Max hates it when I cry.”
“If your mother says it’s okay. Just so you know, I need to keep Max with me for a day or two, then your mom’s going to come get him so you can—”
“Max has to have a funeral like Grandpa had.”
Riley smiled. Kids were so resilient. “I think Max would like that very much.”
After Kellie visited with Max, talking to him, telling him about her new kitten, Janie left with her daughter.
“This one makes five,” Brooke said, as she and Riley stared at poor Max.
“I know. Somehow I’m going to find out who’s doing this. I’m doing an autopsy after we close, see what kind of poison they’re using.” She’d wanted to perform one on the last animal, the little terrier, but the owner had refused
.
“I’ll stay and help.”
Riley gave her assistant a tired smile. “Thanks. I’d appreciate it.”
CHAPTER FOUR
Riley Austin was late coming home. Cody checked his watch for what seemed like the hundredth time. A last-minute operation to track down a runaway teenage couple had popped up that afternoon. Some high government dude’s daughter and her boyfriend had taken off when the man had forbidden her to see the boy. Although the boss hadn’t said so, Cody would bet that Kincaid had agreed to find her because once they did, the man would owe Kincaid. The boss was very good at collecting favors.
Where was his beautiful neighbor? He and Doc would be leaving the next day, and Cody needed to make arrangements to board his dogs. Some thirty minutes later, she arrived home, and he headed over.
“Stay,” he said, when his dogs reached the edge of the sidewalk. “Hey, long day?” he asked when he came up next to Riley on the lighted porch. The first thing he noticed when she glanced at him was that she looked tired. The second thing was the sadness in her eyes.
“Very,” she answered as she fumbled with her keys.
He took them from her. “You okay?”
“Sure.”
At the tears pooling in her eyes, he tsked. “Little liar. Wanna talk about it?” What was he doing? The last thing he needed or wanted was to take on someone else’s problems. He was already keeping an eye out for the car that had tried to run her over. That right there was beyond how involved he wanted to get with her. Now who was the liar? He’d like very much to be involved with her, just in a different way.
“Some . . . someone’s kil-killing my patients.”
The tears she’d been trying to blink away began to roll down her cheeks. As if his arms had stopped taking instructions from his brain, they slid around her even though he’d ordered them not to. And damn, did she ever feel good there.
“I-I stayed late to au-autopsy a little girl’s prec-precious p-pet.”
