Military K-9 Unit Christmas: Christmas Escape ; Yuletide Target

by Valerie Hansen

  “You’re welcome. Do me a favor and take down my number. Call me anytime for any reason, okay?”

  Taking his phone number seemed a bit personal, but she reluctantly pulled out her phone and dutifully entered Sean as a new contact. “Got it.”

  He held his phone, looking at her expectantly, as if waiting for her number, too. She told herself to stop making such a big deal out of it and provided her number in return.

  “Thanks.” He entered the information, then scanned the room with a frown. “I don’t like leaving you here, alone.”

  Truthfully, she wasn’t fond of the idea, either. “I was thinking of calling my boss at the training center, Master Sergeant Westley James, to see if he’d give me special permission to keep Greta here with me 24/7. When the Red Rose Killer, Boyd Sullivan, was on the loose, K-9s were allowed special dispensation to stay with their handlers. After Boyd was captured and arrested last month, the rules went back to normal.” She shrugged. “I figure Westley might grant me permission.”

  “I like it.” He gestured with his hand. “Call him.”

  Bothering the master sergeant at home went against the grain, but remembering that moment when a hand shoved her in the back and directly into traffic had her making the call.

  The phone rang several times, then went to voice mail. She left a message, then disconnected from the call.

  “Do you think he’ll get back to you tonight?”

  “If he can, he will.” She knew Westley’s wife, Felicity, was about three months pregnant and suffering severe morning sickness. Westley was likely taking care of her. As he should. It was up to her to deal with her own problems.

  “I’ll stick around for a while,” Sean offered. “I don’t mind sleeping on your sofa. Or if you’d be more comfortable, you can sleep on my sofa.”

  “Not necessary.” Just the thought of having Sean sleep on her sofa or vice versa was enough to wreak havoc on her concentration. He was clueless about the secret crush she’d had on him back in high school. He’d been cute then and had grown more handsome since. But her feelings were one-sided. Back then, he’d never seemed to notice her other than as the kid sister of his friend.

  “Really, Sean, you’ve already gone above and beyond. I’ll be fine.”

  He didn’t look convinced, his blue eyes drilling into hers as if trying to read her mind. “There’s nothing more important than keeping you safe.”

  She appreciated his concern. “I’m safe here. I’m going to take some ibuprofen and get some sleep,” she said firmly. “Good night.”

  “Good night.” He finally moved to the door. “Don’t forget to call if you need something.”

  “I won’t.” She waited until he stepped into the hallway, then closed and locked the door behind him. Shooting the dead bolt home made her feel a little better. Then she toured her apartment, making sure each window was securely locked.

  Good thing it was winter. In the spring and fall she preferred to sleep with the windows open.

  Even with the Christmas tree, the apartment seemed hollow and lonely without Greta or Sean’s presence. She set the phone near her bedside table, hoping Westley would call her back. She washed her face and changed out of her uniform into soft black stretch pants and a fleece shirt. Then she crawled into bed and tried to rest.

  Images from the truck incident whirled around in her head, causing her to relive the moment over and over again.

  It didn’t take long to regret her knee-jerk reaction of refusing Sean’s help. What would it have mattered if he’d slept on her sofa? She wasn’t going to get any sleep this way, either.

  She couldn’t understand why someone wanted her dead. This all had to be related to her attempt to file charges against Lieutenant Colonel Turks. And it still irked her that she’d been denied the promotion.

  Not just for herself but for Greta’s sake. As with all dog handlers, Greta carried the same rank she did. Greta hadn’t been given any recognition for the bomb-sniffing work she’d done overseas. They’d both put their lives on the line over and over again to keep their fellow airmen and other members of the military safe.

  And as a result, not only were they denied a promotion, but now there’d been an attempt to kill her.

  A faint sound had her bolting upright in bed, her heart pounding with fear. It was nothing—just the sound of an apartment door closing.

  She couldn’t seem to relax, tossing and turning relentlessly. The hours ticked by slowly: 2200, 2300.

  At midnight, she gave up and rolled out of bed. She decided to head over to the training center to pick up Greta. She could explain everything to Westley in the morning. Surely, he wouldn’t hold it against her, especially if she explained about the recent attempt on her life.

  Spurred into action, she pulled on a quilted jacket and slipped out of her apartment, squinting in reaction to the brightly lit hallway. Taking the stairs to the first floor, she pushed through the heavy door into the darkness outside.

  Belatedly, she wondered if she should have called Sean, then ruthlessly shoved the cowardly thought aside. The person who’d shoved her into traffic wouldn’t find her such an easy target next time. And as an added precaution, she once again palmed the panic button. If she so much as saw anything suspicious, she wouldn’t hesitate to make a lot of noise.

  As she headed down Oakland, a shiver of apprehension rippled down her spine. This time, she purposefully glanced over her shoulder, letting anyone who might be watching know that she was on full alert.

  But, of course, she didn’t see anyone.

  Stupid to be so afraid. Her schedule at the training center wasn’t a secret. It wouldn’t be difficult to figure out she reported each morning at 0900 and worked until 1800. No one could possibly know that she was making a midnight run to fetch her K-9 partner.

  She squared her shoulders and picked up the pace until she was moving at a steady jog. Just like being back in basic training, she thought with a grim smile. Getting her blood moving also warmed her up, and she became even more determined to bring Greta back to her apartment for what remained of the night.

  Fifteen minutes later, she reached the training center and the row of kennels along the back. She walked along the dimly lit hallway, refusing to let anything deter her from her mission.

  As she moved down the corridor, she mentally counted the kennels as she passed by, knowing Greta was in number seventeen.

  She approached Greta’s kennel cautiously. Her K-9 partner was well trained, but she was also a warrior.

  It didn’t hurt to be careful.

  Crouching beside Greta’s kennel, she peered through the metal bars. The Belgian Malinois lifted her head, and her tail thumped with recognition, but she didn’t seem to be her usual self.

  “Greta?” Her tone caused several of the other dogs to bark. Ignoring them, she quickly unlocked the door and went into the kennel.

  “What’s wrong, girl?” She frowned as she noted a small puddle of green fluid staining the bottom of Greta’s empty water dish.

  Antifreeze?

  No! She pulled out her phone and dialed the emergency veterinary service, surprised when Captain Kyle Roark himself answered the phone.

  “Dr. Roark,” he answered in a voice husky with sleep.

  “It’s Jacey Burke. Greta is sick—I think she’s been poisoned with antifreeze.”

  “What? How did that happen? Never mind—I’ll meet you at the clinic,” he said, all traces of slumber erased from his tone.

  “I’ll bring her right away.”

  Jacey stuffed her phone in her pocket and then bent over Greta, who was struggling to stand. The dog weighed roughly seventy pounds, but that didn’t stop Jacey from hauling Greta up and into her arms. Surging to her feet, she staggered out of the kennel and hurried down the corridor.

  Fearing for Greta’s well-being, she prayed for
strength as she carried her K-9 partner to the veterinary clinic. If she hadn’t decided to come out tonight... She could barely finish the thought.

  First someone tried to kill her, then they went after her K-9 partner.

  She was afraid to think about what this guy might do next.

  THREE

  Sean’s ringing phone instantly pulled him from a restless slumber. When he squinted at the screen and saw Jacey’s name, his heart jumped into his throat. Levering upright, he quickly answered. “Jacey? What’s wrong?”

  “I-I’m at the veterinary clinic. S-someone poisoned Greta.” Jacey’s voice was thick with tears. “Dr. Roark is doing his best, but I’m afraid sh-she won’t make it.”

  “I’ll be right there. Don’t leave, okay?”

  “I won’t.”

  Sean pulled on his uniform, including his utility belt and his weapon, just in case, before bolting out of the apartment. He wondered how Jacey had known that Greta was poisoned. It didn’t matter, because he’d get a statement from the vet regardless, but there was a tiny portion of his mind that wondered if Jacey was blowing things out of proportion.

  Maybe the dog was simply sick. And why was Jacey at the kennel at this late hour, anyway? He didn’t truly believe she was crazy, but there was no doubt her behavior could be viewed as a bit erratic.

  He debated waiting for a cab or just going on foot. Because the veterinary clinic wasn’t that far, he opted for the latter. He quickened his pace to double time, heading up Oakland past the now-vacant children’s playground toward Canyon Drive.

  The lights were on at the clinic, but the door was locked. He rapped on the window and watched Jacey cautiously approach to answer the door. Her eyes were red and puffy, her cheeks damp with tears.

  “Thanks for coming,” she said in a husky tone, closing the door behind him.

  Hating to see her so upset, he drew her into his arms for a brief, friendly hug. “Any news on Greta’s condition?”

  She leaned against him for a moment, the cranberry-vanilla scent of her hair teasing his senses, then straightened and shook her head. “Not yet. I can’t believe anyone would be so cold and callous as to go after my dog.”

  “Why were you at the kennel tonight?”

  She dragged a hand through her hair. “I couldn’t sleep and thought it would help to bring Greta to my place for the rest of the night. I hadn’t heard back from Master Sergeant Westley James, but thought I could ask forgiveness in the morning. If I hadn’t gone to get Greta she may have died.”

  He had to admit her story sounded reasonable. But he continued, choosing his words carefully. “You mentioned something about her being poisoned?”

  “I saw a small puddle of green fluid that appeared to be antifreeze in the bottom of her water dish.” Jacey rubbed her hands over her arms, as if chilled. “Antifreeze tastes sweet so dogs and other animals are attracted to it, but it’s extremely poisonous. I can guarantee there’s no way even a smidgen of antifreeze got into the kennel by accident.” Her gaze darkened. “Someone put it there on purpose.”

  “I’d like to see it for myself, maybe take pictures.” He knew she wouldn’t want to leave the veterinary clinic, but this was important. “Why don’t you let Dr. Roark know we’ll be back in twenty minutes? That should be long enough for me to get a sample of the antifreeze for my report.”

  She hesitated, torn between being there for Greta and helping to catch the person who’d done this terrible thing. She reluctantly nodded and moved over to the exam room. “Dr. Roark? Can you hear me?”

  A pretty blonde poked her head into the room. “Is there something you need?”

  “Hi, Airman Fielding. Just tell Dr. Roark I’ll be back in roughly twenty minutes. The Special Forces cop wants to see the scene of the crime.”

  The woman nodded. “Okay. Don’t worry, Kyle—er, Dr. Roark is doing everything he can for Greta.”

  “I know. Thanks again.” Jacey turned away and faced him. “Let’s go.”

  They left the veterinary clinic together. He was glad he had some evidence containers stored in the pocket of his utility belt. Having a sample of the antifreeze that had poisoned Greta would go a long way in proving her case that someone was trying to kill her and her K-9 partner.

  Jacey didn’t say anything as they hurried down Canyon to the training center. She used her key to access the building and then took him down a long corridor lined with kennels housing a variety of dogs. Several of them barked as they walked past, but Jacey acted as if she didn’t notice.

  “It’s this one,” she said, slowing to stop. She frowned, sweeping her gaze around the area. “That’s odd. I’m sure I left the kennel door open. I was in a hurry to get Greta to the clinic so didn’t bother trying to close it behind me.”

  He knelt down and peered through the thin metal bars of the kennel door to see inside. There was a steel water dish in the far corner but no sign of antifreeze.

  “Are you sure this is the right kennel?” he asked.

  “Of course I’m sure.” Jacey used her key to unlock the kennel door and ducked inside. Then she stopped abruptly, staring in confusion. “The water dish has been cleaned up. There’s no sign of the antifreeze in the bottom that I noticed earlier.”

  A sinking feeling settled in his gut. “You’re sure you saw it?”

  “Absolutely.” She lifted her gaze to his. “Someone came in to clean up after I left with Greta.”

  He nodded, wondering who had access to the kennels. “Any way to track who has been in and out of here?”

  Her shoulders slumped in defeat. “All the trainers and staff have keys. Unfortunately, there isn’t an electronic trail. But Greta is trained not to take food or water from strangers, which makes me wonder if the person who did this is someone who works here.”

  “Is it possible someone followed you in and stayed hidden until you left with Greta? That would give them plenty of time to wash out the water dish.”

  “Maybe,” she admitted, although her tone reeked of doubt. She slowly walked out of the kennel. “It’s possible Greta drank the antifreeze because the dish was in her kennel. We can’t always have the same staff providing food and water. Either way, I’m sure Dr. Roark will be able to verify the source of Greta’s illness.”

  Sean followed her back outside, watching as she closed and relocked the kennel door. Hopefully she was right about that.

  Because if the vet couldn’t say with absolute certainty what the source of Greta’s illness was, they only had Jacey’s account of what she’d seen when she’d found Greta in her kennel.

  And at this rate, Sean was concerned that no one would be willing to believe her.

  If he hadn’t seen her almost get run over by the box truck, he wasn’t so sure he would, either.

  But he did believe her. And not just because they’d known each other back in high school.

  Jacey truly cared about Greta and wouldn’t make something like this up.

  Despite the efforts of someone trying to prove otherwise.

  What they needed was a suspect. But who? Out of the thousands of airmen and officers on base, who would hate Jacey enough to attempt to kill her and her dog?

  He wasn’t sure but intended to find out. He couldn’t bear the thought of another woman being attacked on base. Four weeks ago, he’d failed to keep Liz Graber safe from her abusive ex-husband. Liz’s death was his fault. All because he’d gotten too emotionally involved and had let his guard down.

  No way was he going to fail to protect Jacey Burke.

  * * *

  Jacey sensed Sean was struggling to believe she had seen antifreeze in Greta’s kennel.

  At this point, she was even beginning to doubt herself.

  Worse, Sean only had her word about what she’d seen. By now he was likely wondering if the rumors about her being crazy were in fact true. She had to
believe Dr. Roark would support her story.

  “I didn’t make it up,” she said, finally breaking the tangible silence between them as they made their way back to the veterinary clinic.

  “I believe you,” Sean said, surprising her.

  “Really?”

  “Yes, really.”

  There was more she wanted to say, but they had already reached the veterinary clinic. She rapped on the door, grateful to see through the window that Airman Fielding had come over to let them in. The veterinary tech greeted them both with a weary smile.

  “Dr. Roark has Greta stable for the moment. He’ll be out in a few minutes to talk to you.”

  Jacey’s heart swelled with hope. “That’s good, right?”

  “Yes, it’s good. For now.” Airman Fielding nodded, then disappeared into the back of the clinic.

  Sean reached for her hand, and she gratefully took it, drawing comfort from his warmth.

  He believed her. She wasn’t sure why, but he believed her.

  The relief made tears prick her eyes. Ridiculous, but hearing those three little words made her feel so much better.

  “Senior Airman Burke?” Dr. Roark approached, eyeing Sean curiously.

  She let go of Sean’s hand and offered a quick salute. “Captain Roark, this is Staff Sergeant Sean Morris. He’s with the Special Forces.”

  Sean also saluted, as was required when facing a superior officer.

  Captain Roark returned their salutes, then waved a hand. “At ease, both of you. No need to be formal here.” The vet looked at her. “I’ve managed to stabilize Greta, but at the moment the biggest threat is to her kidneys. Depending on how much she took in, she’ll need time for her system to return to normal.”

  Jacey asked, “But she’ll survive?”

  Captain Roark nodded. “Yes, her prognosis is very good. Most dogs can survive antifreeze poisoning if they get treatment right away. I plan to keep her here for at least twenty-four hours for observation.” His gaze grew troubled. “It’s good you brought her in when you did, Jacey—if this had waited until morning, she likely wouldn’t have survived.”