Explosive Secrets (Texas K-9 Unit)

by Valerie Hansen

  The automatic barked...and Nicki saw the muzzle flash. Cringing in horror, she crouched down on the ground and saw her former captor crumple as if he were a marionette, and someone had just cut all the strings holding him erect.

  There was no other movement in the clearing. No sound beyond the echo of the shot. Birds had stopped singing. Insects no longer chirped.

  Nicki dared to peek from behind lowered lashes. The man in black was staring straight at her. All she could see of his mouth was the slash in the knitted fabric but those eyes—those terrifying eyes—pinned her like a butterfly on a scientist’s specimen board.

  The Boss turned on his heel and started back the way he had come, the dog at his side.

  Nicki could hardly breathe, let alone speak. Her feet felt nailed to the ground, her heart was pounding. And she was so scared, she was afraid she might vomit.

  Were they going to leave her? Just like that? After everything Gunther Lamont had already put her through? It certainly looked that way.

  She straightened slightly, still trembling, yet beginning to fan a tiny spark of hope.

  Then she heard the strange voice again—the voice that was so odd it sounded as if it were being electronically altered.

  The Boss didn’t bother with explanations to his remaining men. He simply tossed a comment over his shoulder as he left.

  “The woman. Kill her.”

  * * *

  Jackson pulled Titan closer when they heard a shot and took cover behind the trunk of an ancient, gnarled tree. His dog was shaking, as he’d expected. So was he, at least internally. One shot probably meant a hit, whereas a volley of them would indicate that someone was fleeing, and perhaps getting away.

  One solitary gunshot was definitely not a good sign. Not good at all.

  He waited a few seconds, then cautiously started forward again, heading in the direction of the sound. Whoever had fired had to be in the vicinity of the chapel Nicki had mentioned to Harold.

  That might mean she was the victim, he reasoned, immediately abandoning that notion because his heart refused to accept it. Nicki couldn’t be gone. She simply couldn’t be. Not now. Not when he’d finally realized she was the right woman for him. It wouldn’t be fair.

  And how fair was it when your buddies died in combat? he asked himself. Who says any death is fair? He, of all people, knew that. He’d seen too many friends killed in combat.

  Jackson realized his logic was irrefutable, yet he maintained the soul-deep assurance that Nicki had survived. He had taught her to shoot. Maybe she had gotten her hands on the perp’s firearm and had used it to defend herself. The idea might be far-fetched, but it was possible. Anything was.

  Pushing forward in spite of his underlying fear that he would soon glimpse her lying lifeless on the forest floor, he kept up a constant, unspoken chain of prayer. Words were inadequate in this instance. Hopes and dreams and heartfelt pleas would have to suffice.

  A jumble of voices began to drift to him on the evening breeze. Nicki? He held his breath and strained to listen.

  It was her! She was alive. The bullet hadn’t ended her life. But then who had been the target? Or had the shot merely been a warning?

  Inching closer, Jackson kept Titan on a very short leash.

  The dog seemed to sense the need for stealth because he almost tiptoed, placing each paw without making a sound.

  Jackson crept closer.

  Nicki was talking. “You don’t want to do this, guys. I’m pregnant, so you’ll be killing an innocent baby, too, if you shoot me.”

  Jackson nearly shouted out his anguish. Someone was threatening to kill the woman he loved, and he was still too far away to stop it. How much more time did he have? Should he show himself, charge the scene and try to draw their fire, or might his sudden appearance cause the assassin to panic and shoot Nicki, anyway?

  On the other hand, if he delayed too long and waited for backup, what would become of her?

  Torn between listening to his head or his heart, he started forward cautiously. He knew what a trained officer of the law would do—should do. But if there was one more shot, he was going to make a run for her...whether it cost him his own life or not.

  There was simply no other choice.

  EIGHTEEN

  Nicki felt better about her chances of survival as soon as she saw the expression on one of the thug’s faces soften. His long-haired, younger partner still seemed bent on following their boss’s orders, but she believed she may have won one of them over. That was a start.

  “I know I’m not showing much yet, but I am pregnant,” Nicki explained, focusing on the older of the two men. “If you’ve been following this case, you know that already. I haven’t hidden my condition. As a matter of fact, that’s why I was fired from my job at the truck stop.”

  The one who had chosen to lower his gun nodded. “Yeah. We did hear something about that.”

  “Doesn’t matter,” the other insisted. “It’s us or her. You know that. If we don’t finish her off The Boss will do us, instead, and then send somebody else after her.”

  “Why should he?” Nicki asked, struggling to keep from sounding as desperate as she was. “You heard him yourself. He has no more use for me. Whatever he thought I knew doesn’t matter anymore. There’s no reason to shoot me. Or my poor little baby.”

  “She’s got a point,” the sympathetic man said. “My sister just had a kid and it sure is cute. Why don’t we let her go?” He turned his eyes on Nicki. “You won’t remember what we looked like, will you, lady?”

  All she could do was shake her head. Clearly, the younger of the two was far from convinced. That gave her no better than a fifty-fifty chance of survival.

  He raked his free hand through his long, stringy brown hair and raised the other arm, pointing his pistol directly at her. “No dice. I ain’t gonna die for some dumb broad. If you ain’t got the guts to do it with me, I’ll do it alone.”

  Nicki’s eyes widened. The round, black hole in the end of the gun’s barrel looked enormous. Any second now there would be a sharp crack of sound and a bullet would speed toward her.

  This was the end. She’d lost.

  Closing her eyes, she clasped her hands and dropped to her knees in prayer. If she had to die, she was going to do it while talking to God.

  At least nobody could stop her from doing that.

  * * *

  Emerging from cover, Jackson shouted, “Police! Drop the gun.”

  Instead of complying, the long-haired man whirled and fired. The shot went wild.

  Jackson’s returning bullet found its mark and the would-be gangster dropped in his tracks. His partner had his hands raised in surrender before the wounded man finished twitching.

  “Nicki!” Jackson shouted. “Are you all right?”

  She jumped up and ran toward him. He had to raise his sidearm to keep from pointing it at her. Thankfully, the surviving mobster made no effort to escape, although he could have bolted at that particular moment and might have gotten away.

  Barreling into Jackson’s arms, she staggered him. Her face pressed to his neck. Her arms encircled his waist. Tears flowed freely. “Thank God you found me!”

  Jackson would have closed his eyes and kissed her soundly if he hadn’t needed to keep some of his attention focused on the surviving criminal. It was over. He’d succeeded.

  “On your knees. Hands behind your head. Now!” he ordered his prisoner, watching the stocky man awkwardly comply.

  “I wasn’t gonna shoot her,” he insisted. “Honest, man. Ask her. She’ll tell you.”

  Nicki clung to her rescuer and nodded. “He’s telling the truth. He wanted to let me go but the other guy, the one you shot, was going to follow orders.”

  Briefly assessing the mayhem, Jackson paused. “Orders? Lamont looks dead. Why do as he said now?”

  “It wasn’t him,” Nicki explained. “There was another man. One they called Boss. He wore all black, even had a ski mask hiding his face. His eye
s were really scary and his voice was creepy, too.” She raised her arm and pointed past the chapel. “He went that way.”

  “When? How long ago?”

  “Just a few minutes. I didn’t get a good look at the man you spotted in these woods when we were up in my old apartment, but judging by the way this guy was dressed, it could have been the same person.”

  She glanced past Jackson’s shoulder. “Where’s Titan?”

  “I tied him to a tree back there to keep him out of the line of fire. We’ll go get him in a second.”

  “Then wh-what’s moving out there?” she stammered, looking in the direction he’d come from.

  “Harold!” Jackson heaved a relieved sigh. “It’s about time.”

  His uncle was panting and gesturing with a hunting rifle. “I figured I was on the right trail when I found the dog. I heard what Nicki just said. Want me to go after this Boss character?”

  “No. It’s too dangerous,” Jackson told him flatly. “We’ll wait a few more minutes for backup and then do a proper search with a tracking dog. The guy we’re after is probably too crafty to have left a trail this time, either, but he’s bound to make a mistake eventually.”

  Harold turned the rifle on the man with his hands behind his head, and grinned. “Want me to cuff this one for you? I still remember how.”

  “Sure. I’ll keep him covered.” Jackson tossed his uncle the handcuffs from his belt, then waited until he was finished securing the criminal before holstering his gun and concentrating on Nicki.

  His hands gently cupped her cheeks, his thumbs whisking away the remnants of stray tears. “Tell me you’re all right, sweetheart. Please?”

  “I’m fine.” She leaned against his palm and smiled. “Now that you’re here.”

  Jackson slowly lowered his head and brushed his lips against hers. He hadn’t intended to claim a real kiss. Not yet. But the instant he felt her tender, eager response, he changed his mind.

  Nicki already had her arms around his waist. Now, she raised on tiptoe, reaching toward the unbridled affection he offered.

  He was breathing hard a few moments later when he pulled back far enough to gaze into her eyes. “Wow. I thought it would be nice to kiss you, but I had no idea it would be that nice.”

  “Mmm.” Her eyes were misty and half-closed. “Not bad.” She began to grin. “Of course, I only had a second or two to judge by. Maybe we should try it again so we’re sure...”

  “I was sure about my feelings for you a long time ago,” Jackson whispered, drawing her close again. “I didn’t think it was possible to fall so hard, so fast, but I did. I love you, Nicki.”

  Her smile waned and she opened her eyes to look quizzically into his. Jackson had anticipated her reaction, based on prior conversations she’d had with him and Harold, so he sought to ease her mind.

  “I love both of you,” he said. “Enough that I’ve located the baby’s missing father for you. If you want to go back to Bobby Lee, I’ll step aside.”

  Nicki tightened her arms around Jackson and met his gaze with self-assurance and resolve. “You’ll go nowhere, mister. Not if I have anything to say about it. It’s you I love and unless you think we should make him help support this baby, I never want to hear that man’s name again. Okay?”

  “Very okay,” Jackson said, kissing her again before adding, “Why would we want anybody else to have anything to do with our firstborn?”

  Nicki was smiling when she leaned back to catch her breath. “Firstborn? Are you insinuating there will be more?”

  “I certainly hope so,” he told her. “And kids need a real mommy and daddy. Will you marry me, Nicki?”

  “Are you sure? I mean, you aren’t asking just because you saved my life again and feel beholden, are you?”

  “I think that kind of thing is supposed work the other way around.” He chuckled at her befuddled expression, then placed a kiss on her forehead. “Just say yes and stop torturing me, will you?”

  “Yes!” she shouted happily. “Yes.”

  From across the clearing, Harold yelled, “It’s about time.”

  * * *

  For Nicki, the remainder of that night and the days following became a blur of confusing details and loose ends, although it was good to see that Jackson and the others had truly believed her when she’d told them about making up a fake secret code to stall Gunther until help could arrive. Unfortunately, even knowing all they did about the fallen hierarchy of the crime syndicate, including Lamont, they didn’t have nearly enough information.

  Important questions remained. Who was this “Boss” that everyone feared and why had he felt the need to steal Captain McNeal’s elite police dog, Rio, when there were other dogs that could do virtually the same thing—without causing undue interest from local law enforcement?

  The more Nicki struggled to remember minute details of her encounter with the man in the ski mask, the more confused she became. He was fairly tall, particularly compared to the two henchmen he had brought to confront her and Gunther Lamont. And he moved well, as if he had total control of his muscles as well as his emotions.

  There was one thing she was certain of. The Boss was a cold, calculating criminal who had little or no regard for human life. Reliving the way he had executed Lamont for his apparent failure still made her queasy.

  She chose a peaceful evening at home to ask Jackson a few questions. They were seated together on the porch, making the glider swing by kicking their feet, when Nicki broached the subject.

  “What I still don’t understand is why any criminal would go around killing his own people. It’s crazy.”

  Jackson threaded his fingers between hers and lifted her hand to brush a kiss across her knuckles. “Mmm. Vanilla. I love your perfume.”

  “Stop trying to distract me. I think it’s a fair question.” She shivered. “For all we know, there may still be murderers after me.”

  “I doubt it,” he told her with resolve. “Now that The Boss, whoever he is, realizes you don’t have a clue about whatever it is he’s searching for, he’ll probably leave you alone. I think the only reason he told those other two to shoot you is because it was expedient at the time, not because he cared one way or another.”

  “He kills people just for fun?”

  “Oh, I imagine he thinks he has good reasons. But that doesn’t mean they make sense to the rest of us.”

  “You’re sure my cousin was one of his middle managers?”

  “Yes. Arianna was known as Serpent and the Realtor she killed, Andrew Garry, was called Blood. They were both involved up to their eyebrows.”

  “Then what about Gunther Lamont? Where does—did—he fit into the picture? He seemed so normal, at first. I’d even seen him in church. What possesses a person like that to risk everything and turn to crime?”

  “Probably money, at least to begin with. Then, once somebody is involved the way Lamont was, it becomes a matter of survival.”

  “And he didn’t.”

  Jackson slipped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer as the swing moved back and forth, lulling them and bringing the peace they both craved. “You’re okay and that’s all that matters. How are you feeling these days?”

  “Fat,” Nicki said with a giggle, “and the doctor says I’m only four months along by now. If you’re going to give this baby your last name, I think we’d better do it soon—before I start to look too funny.”

  “You’ll never look funny to me, sweetheart. Just set it up with Pastor Eaton. If you want a big wedding with all the trimmings you can have that, too.”

  “All I need is you—and maybe Harold to give me away. And I’d like to contact my half sister, Mae, and make peace with her, too, if we can find her. Is that all right with you?”

  “Fine. We can have a reception out here and invite my whole unit the way we did for the barbecue, only this time I’ll have the party catered so you don’t have to work so hard.”

  “Not on your life,” Nicki insisted. �
��I’d love to cook for all your friends again.”

  “Then we’ll celebrate our marriage at a restaurant and you can plan a party here for a later date.”

  “You don’t like my cooking?” Nicki knew that suggestion would flummox Jackson. She wasn’t disappointed. He began to sputter and try to find the right words to insist he’d meant nothing of the kind.

  She laughed gaily, her blue eyes twinkling in the gold from the setting sun. “Gotcha.”

  He pulled her closer. Tilted her chin up with one finger. Inclined his head for another kiss—one of many.

  Nicki closed her eyes and sighed. They had been through the fires of evil together and had realized their mutual love because of enduring those trials.

  This had not been a month she’d care to repeat, yet it had brought out the best in them both. More criminals were out of commission and the future was starting to look so bright it was almost blinding.

  As her lips joined with Jackson’s and she slipped her arms around his neck, she felt an unexpected flutter in her stomach. It wasn’t harsh or painful, simply a sense of movement that caught her by surprise.

  She looked up at the man she loved with all her heart and smiled from a joy beyond words.

  Her child—their child—had just made his or her presence felt for the first time.

  They were about to share a new life. In more ways than one.

  * * * * *

  Keep reading for an excerpt from Tracking Justice by Shirlee McCoy.

  Dear Reader,

  Once again, I’m blessed to be asked to participate in a continuity series with five other Love Inspired Suspense authors. When I heard that there was going to be a series featuring heroic dogs, I knew I wanted to take part. Happily, my editors agreed and here I am.

  Dogs, like people, can suffer lasting effects from trauma and abuse. Both my current pets were adopted in spite of having physical and/or mental scars, yet they bring me great joy.

  People need lots of love and plenty of forgiveness, too, just as Nicki did in this story. There is no sin too great to be forgiven by God if we will merely believe, confess and ask. The Lord can bring good things out of even our worst mistakes.