Search and Rescue

by Valerie Hansen

  “Carried him?”

  “Yes.” She tried not to smile. “Please?”

  Ryder handed her his flashlight and arched a brow. “If he bites me, we send him back where he came from tomorrow. Deal?”

  That wasn’t fair. She hadn’t had enough time to fully assess the dog’s quirks. Still, he was eventually going to have to work with the chief and had performed amiably in his initial placement so she nodded. “Okay. Go for it.”

  One of the important aspects of Phoenix’s training regimen was going to be reinforcing his ability to adapt to many situations. This would be a good test. She snapped her fingers to get his attention, looked directly into his eyes and held up her hand, palm out. “Phoenix. Stay.”

  Although he flinched and tensed when Ryder slipped his arms under him and lifted, he didn’t struggle. Sophie wanted to cheer.

  Instead, she dropped to stand beside man and dog, pointed the light toward the house and led the way back to her porch. It was impossible to miss seeing a portion of the carnage as they passed, and its portent made her shiver.

  So did the nagging feeling that someone had been watching her while she’d been trapped on the tabletop.

  Ryder was spitting dog hair when he bent to lower the Aussie to the kitchen floor. To make matters worse, Phoenix turned in the blink of an eye and gave his cheek a slurp.

  Sophie laughed. “Guess he won’t be going back tomorrow.”

  “Guess not.” Brushing off his civilian clothes, Ryder made a sour face. “Shedding all over me has never been a problem with Titus.”

  “How often do you carry him?” she asked, still chuckling. “He weighs a ton.”

  “I could still lift him if I needed to.” Judging by the way the head trainer was eyeing his flexed biceps she wasn’t going to argue. Flattered but slightly embarrassed, he changed the subject. “Let’s talk about this call.”

  “Coffee first?” Sophie was already on her way to the counter so he nodded. “Sure.”

  “How about the others?”

  “I told Weston to inform them they were free to return to the station. I’ll send a team out at first light to clean up and make sure any possible stragglers are gone.”

  “Thank you.”

  Watching her fill two mugs with hot coffee he hoped she could carry them without spilling, since her hands were shaking so badly. “Want some help?”

  “No. I’ve got it. Have a seat. There’s sugar and creamer if you want.”

  “Black is fine.” It didn’t escape Ryder’s notice that the new dog had made itself at home beneath the kitchen table and was sniffing his boots. For an animal that was supposed to be painfully shy, it seemed pretty mellow.

  “Looks like you’ve made a friend,” Sophie remarked as she joined him and slid one of the mugs across the table.

  “Apparently. All I had to do was rescue him.”

  “And me. Thank you again.”

  “You’re safe in here.”

  He saw her suppress a tremor as she replied, “For now.”

  He eyed the slick floor, checking shadows beneath the edge of the lower cabinets and next to the stove and refrigerator to be certain they were clear. “Do you want me to inspect the house for you?”

  Sophie shook her head. “That won’t be necessary. The rookies already checked. Phoenix will sense any new danger. He’s the one who alerted me about the yard.”

  “Then why in the world did you go out?”

  As he watched, she lowered her gaze and began to pick at a nonexistent spot on the tabletop. That was enough to open Ryder’s eyes for the second time that day.

  He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry for raising my voice, Sophie. I was just worried.”

  “I know.” She breathed a noisy sigh. “It’s been a rough evening and I put your dog in danger by not being vigilant enough. You’re entitled to be upset.”

  Reaching for one of her trembling hands he grasped it gently. “Who said anything about the dog?”

  The small kitchen seemed to shrink until all Sophie was conscious of was the strong man seated across from her. He was just being kind, she knew, yet it was awfully nice of him to hold her hand. She could certainly use the moral support.

  “I’ve never been so scared in all my life,” she admitted, blinking back unshed tears. “I took care of the big one Phoenix saw first and others near the picnic table but there were so many...”

  “I know.”

  “And there was something else. Did your men tell you I thought there was somebody hiding and watching me while I was stranded?”

  “Yes. Any idea who it might have been?”

  “None. The only reason I suspected it at all was because of the way the dog bristled. I wasn’t sure but he was. That’s good enough for me.”

  “Maybe someone heard you shooting and came to see why.”

  Sophie scowled. “Or maybe they were already there and hoping I’d use up all my ammo and be defenseless.” She trembled. “I almost did.”

  Feeling him squeezing her fingers a little more, she pulled her hand away. It was time to stop thinking and reacting on a personal level. She was a trained professional. She’d better start behaving like one.

  Sophie sat up taller in her chair and took a sip from her mug. “All right. We can either assume it was Carrie sneaking around, unhappy that I’ve been talking too much to you lately, or we can look for somebody else. You and the team believe that Carrie likely didn’t have an accomplice because of the journal and so-called shrine you found at her place, right?”

  “Right.”

  His jaw muscles knotted visibly as he spoke, and when he clasped his hands in front of him on the table, Sophie noticed his muscles flexing. She was entitled to be upset because of her recent ordeal but Ryder had a much deeper reason. After all, Carrie’s collection of memorabilia about her victims had included more than just pictures and clippings of the two blond rookies she’d killed because they’d reminded her of him. A central feature was Melanie Hayes, Ryder’s late wife. Photographs and newspaper clippings on Melanie lined a wall of Carrie’s bedroom. But no one figured more prominently than Ryder Hayes himself.

  Empathy filled her and she placed her hand lightly atop his clenched fists. Although he flinched, he didn’t withdraw until she said, “I apologize, Ryder.”

  “For what?”

  “For being insensitive to your loss.”

  “Never mind that. Right now, we need to be thinking about who’s trying to hurt you. Start talking.”

  “About what?”

  “Anything. Everything. You might explain why a raised voice bothers you so much.”

  “I never said it did.”

  “You didn’t have to.”

  “Hey, I passed my psych eval.”

  He didn’t reply immediately and she wondered what painful questions he’d ask next. Until now she’d managed to quell her adverse reactions to triggers that mentally transported her back to her abusive childhood and she’d just as soon not awaken those feelings further.

  “All right,” he finally said. “Let’s talk about the night your partner was shot and why you quit the force after that.”

  “I’d rather not.”

  He propped his elbows on the table and leaned forward. “I don’t think you have a choice, Sophie. We have to start somewhere and that’s as good a place as any. Did you receive any death threats after that incident?”

  “Police officers are always being threatened,” she insisted. “Almost nobody follows through.”

  “Maybe this guy is the exception. Criminals can be very vindictive.”

  The truth stuck in her throat. Was it possible Wes’s brother had made good on his wild threats and come after her at this late date? Why now and not sooner? Part of her mind wanted to brush away suspi
cion while another part felt as if the upcoming anniversary of Wes’s death might hold the answer. To voice that, however, was repugnant. The poor man and his family had suffered enough without blaming them needlessly and causing more pain.

  Ryder had been studying her. “I want you to make a list of possible suspects. Don’t leave anybody out no matter how innocent you think they may be. Understand?”

  She nodded as she noted his darkening mood and resigned herself to complying. “I’ll do it, but I don’t think you realize how difficult it will be for me.”

  As soon as the words left her mouth she knew she’d inadvertently been insensitive again.

  Ryder’s demeanor changed in a heartbeat. His eyes flashed, his jaw clamped and he stood so rapidly he almost knocked his chair over backward. Even before he said a word Sophie knew he was angry.

  “Difficult?” he began. “You want to know what’s difficult? Looking at my wife’s picture posted with Carrie’s other victims and remembering how blind I was to the evil that was right under my nose every day. That’s difficult.”

  She wanted to tell him how sorry she was, how sympathetic, but she knew better than to offer platitudes when he was upset so she clasped her hands around her coffee mug and remained silent. In seconds he’d turned and stormed out the door.

  Ryder was absolutely right. His loss was worse than hers in many ways. Not only had he lost his beloved Melanie and been left to raise their baby alone, he blamed himself for not considering his wife’s killer could be a colleague. Carrie had presented such a mild-mannered facade they’d all been fooled.

  As Sophie started to clear the table she recalled Ryder’s outburst and froze in place. He’d raised his voice again. And sounded furious. So why wasn’t she shaking like a leaf?

  A glance toward the closed door allowed her to envision him slamming it behind him. No panic ensued. As a matter of fact, there were surprisingly warm and tender feelings flowing over and through her.

  She closed her eyes and leaned on the table with both hands. Something momentous had happened tonight and it had nothing to do with snakes, at least not directly.

  The emotional healing she had prayed for since she was a child had apparently begun. The scary question was, Why?

  An even more disquieting answer came in the form of the admirable chief of police whose raised voice no longer set her nerves on edge. Why not? What had made the difference?

  Phoenix came out from under the table and bumped her leg, wagging his tail and panting as he looked up expectantly. That gave Sophie her answer. She wasn’t afraid of Ryder for the same reason Phoenix had accepted her.

  Trust. Plain, old, heartfelt trust.

  And to nurture those feelings between herself and the chief she’d eventually have to break down and name her deceased partner’s disruptive brother Stan as one of her suspects.

  She couldn’t expect Ryder to reflect her growing sense of trust if she weren’t totally honest with him.

  Starting immediately.

  A shiver sang up her spine and prickled at the nape of her neck. When Wes had died she’d blamed herself even more than Stan had blamed her, so his tirade at the grave site had seemed fitting.

  In retrospect, it had been a lot worse than she’d realized. It wasn’t merely his voice, because the threat had been whispered. It was his eyes.

  There had been hate sizzling in his gaze. Hate and murderous fury. The kind that lasted. Simmered. And sometimes boiled over.

  FOUR

  As soon as Ryder left Sophie he headed straight for Mrs. Mullins’s home to pick up Lily. When he arrived at the small, Spanish-style house, he lingered outside in his cruiser long enough to regain the strong self-control on which he prided himself. A man in command could not afford to show anger or weakness or any other emotion that would be detrimental to his position. More importantly, he didn’t want to upset his little Lily.

  He found her in the living room, playing with Opal’s cats and telling them all about her wonderful dog. Maybe it was time to retire Titus. Yes, he got very excited when Ryder strapped on his official K-9 harness or vest but Sophie was right. He also tired easily.

  Opal joined him in the archway to the living room when he paused to listen to the involved tale Lily was telling.

  “She’s been like this ever since you dropped her off,” the middle-aged woman said. “What in the world did you tell her? She keeps warning my cats to look out for bad snakes.”

  “We had a call tonight, over at the head trainer’s place. She was shooting snakes.”

  “The slithery kind or the two-legged kind?”

  “Slithery. She just about emptied her gun until she remembered about the human kind of snake and saved a shot or two. Maybe now she’ll carry an extra clip.”

  Opal smiled, brown eyes twinkling, and patted the waist of her jeans. “I keep mine on an empty chamber, for safety. Staying alert is important for old ladies who live alone, particularly when there’s so much trouble in town. Besides, I have your girl to think of.”

  “Why do you think I trust you with Lily?” Ryder asked, returning her smile. “Anybody who was an MP is bound to be a good, safe guard.”

  “That was a long time ago.”

  “You never forget,” he countered. “It’s like riding a bicycle. The programming sticks in your mind.”

  “And muscle memory.” Opal’s grin spread. “Wanna see me fieldstrip a .45 auto blindfolded?”

  “Maybe later.” Ryder eyed his child. “I promised the princess some ice cream.”

  “You spoil her.”

  “And love every minute of it,” he said.

  That made Opal chuckle. “Wait until she’s a teenager, and then tell me you feel the same way.”

  He sobered. “I’m not in any hurry.”

  Her touch on his arm was gentle, motherly. “You should think about a mama for her, you know. Every girl needs a mother, particularly as she gets older.”

  Ryder chose to turn the serious moment into a joke and arched an eyebrow. “Are you applying for the job?”

  “Hah! I sure would if I was about thirty years younger. Of course, if you like your ladies real mature...” Opal patted her short cropped hair with one hand and rested the other on her hip.

  “I’ll keep you in mind,” Ryder promised. “I know you can cook.”

  “Yup. And I shoot straight, too.”

  “Yeah.” His eyes were on Lily. “I just wish this was a peaceful little town again. Even after losing Melanie it seemed relatively safe here. Everybody thought her murder was an isolated incident for a long time.”

  Opal sighed. “I know what you mean. How were we to know those other two fellas were victims, too? How’d that Carrie person choose ’em in the first place?”

  “Because they reminded her of me,” he said quietly. “I told you she killed Melanie out of jealousy. After that, she apparently fixated on a rookie officer who had light-colored hair like mine. When Mike Riverton didn’t ask her for a date to the Police Dance two years ago she made his death look like an accident by pushing him down stairs. The following year, Brian Miller ignored her too and ended up dying in a fire when his house went up in flames.”

  “You never told me all that before.”

  Ryder nodded. “We held back details about the case and Carrie’s motive to keep from causing a panic. Besides, Veronica Earnshaw didn’t fit the victim profile.”

  Staring at him earnestly, the older woman said, “No, but Carrie might have thought you were interested in her.”

  “We can’t rule it out,” Ryder told her. “That’s a big reason why I don’t dare show favoritism to any woman. Not until Carrie’s caught and jailed.”

  “Meaning, no dating.” Opal turned to gaze fondly at Lily. “That’s too bad.”

  “It’s more than just
dating. It’s what goes on at work, too. If Carrie even imagines I’m spending too much time with another woman, that woman will be in danger.” Like Sophie has been.

  He shivered, then pulled himself together and banished destructive thoughts as he called out to his daughter. “Time to go, Lily. If we don’t get there before the Cactus Café closes, we’ll have to buy our ice cream at the mini mart.”

  She proceeded to tell each cat goodbye before getting to her feet. “They want to go, too, Daddy.”

  “Miss Opal doesn’t want them outside,” he countered.

  “’Cause of the snakes, huh?”

  “Right. And traffic and coyotes and all kinds of dangers. They were raised inside. This is what they know.”

  “But you could protect them, Daddy. You can do anything,” Lily said, gazing up at him in adoration.

  “I wish I could.” Ryder was thinking back to the night he’d been too caught up in his job to pick up his wife from town. That was the night Melanie had been ambushed.

  In Ryder’s mind, no matter who had actually shot and killed her, part of the blame belonged to him. He’d be atoning for the rest of his life.

  Grasping Lily’s hand and holding tight he led her to the door, then paused to peer out into the yard. Nobody, Carrie Dunleavy included, was ever going to take someone he loved from him again. Not while he still had breath in his body.

  And after that? He set his jaw. He knew he should trust God in all things, even the life of his darling Lily, but he kept remembering Melanie. They had believed together that the Lord had blessed their marriage, so why had He allowed her to be taken?

  An overwhelming sense of doom enveloped him. He scooped his daughter into his arms, held her tight and jogged to the patrol car. This must be the way Sophie had felt when she’d imagined a menace besides the snakes, he concluded. Instinct for self-preservation had kicked in and she’d reacted to it on a basic level.

  One thing was clear. Some gut feelings were God-given and had better be heeded. To ignore them was not only foolish, it was akin to laughing in the face of his heavenly Father.