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

by Valerie Hansen

  There was a long pause. “I guess we can try again,” Staff Sergeant Cronin said without enthusiasm.

  “We can use Greta,” Jacey whispered from her spot on the sofa. “She has an incredible nose for gunpowder.”

  Sean nodded. At this point, he trusted Greta’s nose more than the less-than-ambitious Staff Sergeant Cronin.

  “Never mind,” he told Cronin. “I have a better idea.”

  “Suit yourself.” Cronin obviously didn’t think Sean was going to find anything they’d missed.

  “I will. Thanks for the call.” He disconnected and set his phone aside. He supposed there was a remote chance the shooter had returned to the area and found the bullets on his own, but Sean didn’t think so.

  A smart gunman would have picked up the spent shell casings, then disappeared from sight. Returning to the scene of a crime was something to avoid at all costs.

  Then again, some criminals weren’t smart. That was exactly how the cops were able to catch them.

  “Sean?”

  He glanced up at Jacey’s soft, questioning tone. “Yeah?”

  “What do you think of giving Greta’s nose a try?”

  “I like it, if you think she’s up to the task.”

  “Come, Greta.” The dog instantly went to Jacey’s side. “Sit.”

  The dog sat and stared up at Jacey with adoration.

  “She seems fine,” Jacey said. “It looks like most of her fluid bolus has been absorbed. I say we give her a chance and see how it goes. If she gets tired, we can always stop.”

  He wasn’t about to argue. “I’m in. Let’s go.”

  “Give me a few minutes.” Jacey disappeared into one of the bedrooms, returning with Greta’s vest. She strapped it over Greta’s back and the dog straightened, looking as if she was on full alert.

  “Amazing,” he murmured. “She knows it’s time to work.”

  “Yes, she does.” Jacey gave Greta a small treat, then clipped on her leash. “We’re ready when you are.”

  He slipped on his jacket as Jacey donned hers. Together they headed outside to where he’d left the jeep parked in the driveway. The south parking lot wasn’t far, and he pulled into a slot on the opposite side from where the incident had taken place.

  Jacey let Greta out the back, and the dog stood alert at her side. “You thought the shot came from the northeast, correct?”

  “Yeah, but we shouldn’t limit ourselves to just that area.” He cast his gaze about the parking lot. “This way. Let’s start where we were standing when we heard the shots.”

  They covered the distance, roughly thirty yards, and took the same position. Jacey was to his left and he’d been standing on the right. The shot had grazed his right biceps from behind.

  Wait a minute. He turned in a circle until he was once again facing the direction they’d been headed last night. “We need to check the southwest, too.”

  “That’s closer to the south gate, where two airmen are stationed 24/7,” Jacey pointed out.

  “I know—that’s why I thought the shot came from behind. But I honestly can’t say for sure, now in the light of day, so we need to check them both.”

  “Okay.” Jacey bent toward Greta and held out a bullet for the dog to sniff. “Find,” she commanded, releasing the leash.

  Greta lowered her nose and began to sniff the ground, making circular patterns as she moved around the parking lot. Jacey followed close at her side, not saying much other than occasionally offering encouragement.

  He was beginning to think their attempts to find evidence would be futile when Greta disappeared into some brush straight ahead of the spot where they’d started.

  “Sean!” Jacey’s voice held a note of excitement. “Greta found something!”

  “What?” He jogged over to where the dog sat at attention. Nestled in the dirt was a brass shell casing. Only it wasn’t a spent one, ejected after the bullet had been fired, but a full one.

  “I don’t believe it,” he muttered, pulling an evidence bag from his pocket and using it to pick up the shell. “I can’t believe the shooter actually dropped a bullet.”

  “I know, right? I think there must have been spent casings here, too, because Greta alerted in several other spots. But this was the only find.” She hesitated, then added, “Look at this black spot here. I think it may be from a stubbed-out cigarette.”

  “Hmm.” Sean rose to his feet. “This is evidence that someone was here, but it doesn’t help our case. Anyone on base could have dropped a bullet and smoked a cigarette. We need to find the actual slugs that were used.”

  “We’ll keep looking. Now that we believe the shooter may have stood here, we have a better idea where to look for bullet fragments.” Jacey placed Greta back on leash and they returned to their initial location.

  This time, Jacey faced Greta toward the area opposite from where the shooter may have been. Where there was a good chance the bullet may have landed. She repeated her command to find, and Greta went to work.

  Again, he thought their efforts would be fruitless, when suddenly Greta once again disappeared into the brush. “Sean! She found one!”

  He crossed the lot and peered over Jacey’s shoulder. A somewhat mashed slug was lying in the brush. The fact that it was misshapen convinced him this was the one that had creased his arm. The one that had missed them completely could be in Timbuktu for all he knew.

  “Greta, you’re incredible,” he said as he pulled out another evidence bag. He picked up the slug and tucked it next to the unspent shell. He looked at Jacey. “This is exactly what we needed.”

  “I’m glad.” Her smile was hesitant, and he was once again struck by a wave of awareness. Before he could talk himself out of it, he caught her close in a warm hug.

  She stiffened for a fraction of a second before wrapping her arms around his waist and returning his embrace.

  Holding Jacey in his arms felt right, but it didn’t take long for him to remember his secret promise to keep his distance. He loosened his grip and took a subtle step back, trying to force her cranberry-vanilla from overwhelming him.

  He couldn’t fail Jacey the same way he’d failed Liz.

  Not just for her sake, but his own.

  Because if anything happened to Jacey, he’d never get over it.

  SIX

  Bending over, Jacey rubbed Greta’s glossy coat in an attempt to hide her reaction to Sean’s embrace. She liked being held in his arms, more than she should.

  For a split second she’d remembered being roughly and painfully grabbed by Lieutenant Colonel Turks, but quickly shoved the memory away. Instead, she welcomed Sean’s strong arms cradling her close. The woodsy scent of his aftershave had provided a calming effect, until he’d abruptly pulled away, leaving her feeling empty, lonely and confused.

  Logically, she knew he only saw her as an old high school friend, nothing more. And she wasn’t interested in a relationship, either. Which was why she absolutely needed to keep her heart protected from the lethal impact of Sean’s good looks and charm.

  “Good girl,” she murmured to Greta. “Even after being sick, you performed like a trooper.”

  “I’ll drop you off at the house before handing over this evidence,” Sean said. “Greta deserves some rest.”

  “That she does,” Jacey agreed. She straightened and looked at Sean. “If you want my opinion, the bullet fragment and the shell should go directly to the state lab. I wish there was a way to prove the shooter had smoked a cigarette there, too.”

  He nodded thoughtfully. “I agree on both counts. It was clear from my conversation with Staff Sergeant Cronin that he wasn’t very interested in finding this evidence.”

  “Oh, Sean.” Jacey’s heart squeezed in her chest. “I’m afraid that’s my fault. I’m persona non grata within the Special Forces because of my allegation against Turks
and now that you’re stuck with me, the stink is rubbing off on you. I’d completely understand if you want to distance yourself from me.”

  “Not a chance,” Sean responded without hesitation. “There’s something going on here, and any Special Forces cop that doesn’t do their best to get answers doesn’t deserve to wear the uniform.”

  She appreciated his stout loyalty, but couldn’t help thinking that he had no idea what he was facing. She shook off the deep sense of foreboding and walked over to the jeep. Greta kept pace at her side, and Jacey was impressed at how well her K-9 had performed today.

  “In you go, girl.” She opened the back of the jeep and Greta gracefully jumped inside. After shutting the door behind her, Jacey went to the passenger-side door and slid in.

  Sean didn’t say much as he drove back to the house. Her nap had helped a bit, but she still had a nagging headache and was famished.

  She glanced at Sean. “Do you think we could pick up something to eat at Carmen’s?”

  He flashed a wry grin. “You read my mind. I’m starving. Besides, it’s too late for another drive to the San Antonio crime lab. I’ll take the evidence in tomorrow.”

  Carmen’s was an Italian restaurant on base with carryout service. Sean ordered a large spinach-and-eggplant lasagna to go.

  “Here, I’ll pay my share,” Jacey said, digging money out of the pocket of her uniform.

  “No way. This Branson Bulldog isn’t going to make a fellow Branson Bulldog pay for a meal.”

  She rolled her eyes at his lame joke. Their old high school days seemed a long time ago, although she still remembered how cute Sean had been wearing his bulldog letterman jacket. He’d been a track star, and she’d loved watching him race.

  He handed the white paper bag with their carryout order to her. The spicy scent of tomato sauce, oregano and cheese filled the interior of the jeep. Jacey noticed that he kept a close eye on the rearview mirror as he took a long winding path back to their temporary living quarters.

  Jacey took Greta out back for a few minutes and when she returned to the kitchen Sean had the table set with the lasagna in the center. He’d gotten salads to go, as well, a small bowl at each place setting.

  “Looks and smells delicious,” she said as she filled Greta’s food and water dishes. After washing her hands, she joined Sean at the table. Glancing at him beneath her lashes, she clasped her hands together and bowed her head. “Heavenly Father, please bless this food we are about to eat. Thank You for healing Greta so quickly and please continue to guide us on Your chosen path, amen.”

  “Amen,” Sean murmured.

  She was pleased that he’d joined her in prayer. He scooped out lasagna for her, then for himself.

  “Thanks.” She sampled the lasagna and wasn’t disappointed. “Amazing.”

  Sean nodded, too busy eating to answer. She watched him for a moment, tempted to pinch herself to prove they were sitting here, sharing a meal after ten years had passed since they’d last seen each other. She felt bad about the way his fellow Special Forces cops were treating him but, at the same time, couldn’t deny that God had brought them together for a reason.

  She only hoped and prayed that they’d find out who was behind these attacks in time to salvage their reputations.

  And before anyone else got hurt.

  “This hits the spot,” Sean said, breaking the silence. “My gram loves spinach-and-eggplant lasagna. I bring it out to her at least once a month.”

  She glanced at him in surprise. “I didn’t realize your grandmother was living in the area.”

  “I moved her here two years ago. She was lonely back in Branson, Missouri, and I couldn’t get out there to see her as often as I wanted. Having her in a small house close by enables me to visit on a weekly basis.”

  She was touched by the way he cared for his grandmother. “Is she your maternal grandmother?”

  A shadow crossed his blue eyes. “Yes. I didn’t know my father and didn’t maintain contact with my stepfather’s family.”

  She could hear the tension in his tone when he mentioned his stepfather and wondered what their relationship was like. Her parents had passed away several years go in a horrible traffic accident, leaving her and Jake alone. They’d always been close, but losing their parents had bound them together even closer.

  After Jake had died, she’d felt adrift, unable to find her own place in the world.

  Reuniting with Sean had changed that. There was a connection between them, and not just because of their shared past, but because they shared the same values. The way he’d prayed with her at meals and his overall sense of decency. Not to mention the way he’d believed in her when no one else had. Her smile was wistful. “I’d love to meet your grandmother sometime.”

  Sean appeared startled at her comment, then quickly recovered. “Of course. Gram would love that.” He ate the last bit of lasagna on his plate, then sat back with a sigh. “I’m stuffed.”

  She smiled, stood and stacked their dirty dishes together. “Me, too.”

  “I’ll help,” Sean protested.

  “Washing dishes isn’t women’s work?” she teased.

  “No, ma’am. Gram would flay me with the sharp end of her tongue if she heard me say anything like that.” He carried the half-empty lasagna pan to the counter and covered it before placing it in the fridge. “My grandmother was an old army nurse. She didn’t take attitude from anyone.”

  “That’s amazing. Was your mother a nurse, too?” She filled one side of the sink with sudsy water.

  “Yes, but she didn’t keep working after getting married to my stepfather.” The shadow was back in his gaze. “He insisted she stay home.”

  She glanced at him. “I get the impression you and your stepfather don’t get along.”

  “We don’t.” Sean’s voice was flat and hard. “I haven’t seen him in ages and heard he passed away last year.”

  “I’m sorry.” She’d obviously poked at a festering wound.

  He blew out a breath and picked up a dish towel. “It’s not your fault. He’s just not a pleasant subject.”

  They finished washing and drying their dinner dishes in silence. She wanted to ask why Sean and his stepfather didn’t get along, but could tell by the hard set to his jaw that he wasn’t about to open up about his past.

  Thinking back to their time at high school, she realized that Sean had come to their house often, but Jake hadn’t gone to Sean’s at all.

  Had Sean been ashamed of his stepfather? She didn’t know and couldn’t ask Jake, either.

  Sean alone was the only one who could answer her questions. And that wasn’t an option at the moment.

  As she dried her hands on a towel, her phone buzzed. She pulled it out, frowning at the unfamiliar number. Hesitantly, she answered, “Senior Airman Burke.”

  “This is Staff Sergeant Misty Walsh. I hope you don’t mind me bothering you, but I was wondering if you’d have some time to talk. Privately.”

  Jacey’s gaze clashed with Sean’s and she covered her phone with her hand. “This is Misty Walsh,” she whispered. Removing her hand, she added, “Yes, of course I’ll talk to you, Misty. Do you have time tonight?”

  “No, not tonight.” Misty’s response was swift and Jacey imagined she was hiding somewhere while making this call. “Tomorrow. In the daylight. Off base.”

  “Off base works for me. What time?” Jacey’s heart thudded with anticipation and she kept her gaze locked on Sean’s. “And where?”

  “There’s a coffee shop known as the Cozy Coffee Café, about six miles off base heading toward San Antonio. I’ll meet you there at ten hundred hours.”

  “Ten at the Cozy Coffee Café,” she repeated. “We’ll be there.”

  “Wait, who’s we?” Misty’s voice rose with agitation. “Come alone or don’t come at all.”

  �
��I meant me and my K-9, Greta,” Jacey hastened to reassure her. “Misty, can you tell me what this is about?”

  “You know.” Her tone was full of bitterness. “Lieutenant Colonel Turks.”

  Jacey sucked in a harsh breath. “You’ve had experience with him, too?”

  “Tomorrow, ten sharp.” Misty disconnected from the line without saying anything further.

  Jacey set her phone aside, trying to suppress a shiver. “I don’t think Misty is the one who harmed Greta,” she told Sean. “Seems as if she wants to talk to me about the lieutenant colonel.”

  “You’re not going alone,” Sean said in a tone that brooked no argument. “It’s too dangerous.”

  She nodded, her mind swirling. “I know. You can sit in the back of the cafe to keep an eye on things. I’ll have Greta with me, too.”

  “I hope it’s not a trap,” Sean muttered.

  “It won’t be.” Jacey could hardly believe that Misty Walsh was another of Lieutenant Colonel Turk’s victims.

  Where there were two, there had to be more. Maybe if they all banded together, they could bring charges against the powerful commander.

  They all couldn’t be viewed as not credible, could they?

  * * *

  After Jacey and Greta disappeared into the bedroom to get some sleep, he stayed up at the kitchen table, combing through Misty Walsh’s background.

  It wasn’t difficult to confirm she’d been deployed to Kabul, Afghanistan, under Lieutenant Colonel Turk’s ultimate command. Sean stared at the roster, grimly wondering how many female airmen this guy assaulted.

  And how many more might be next if they didn’t find a way to bring him to justice.

  Jacey had been one of the brave few who’d tried, and while her initial attempt may have failed, he was convinced she’d ultimately succeed.

  The attacks on Jacey and Greta and the gunshots fired at the parking lot had to be related to her allegations against the lieutenant colonel. Nothing else made sense.

  All he had to do was to figure out who on base might be doing the deed on the colonel’s behalf.