Rival Forces

by D. D. Ayres

  “You got it, boss.” Doug Taggart was a dozen years older than her, having worked first for her father. But he had always treated her with respect, calling her boss even when he didn’t need to.

  She equaled his five-foot ten-inch frame. But Taggart was build like a Hummer, short legs balancing a massive chassis that made her seem willowy in comparison as they stood shoulder-to-shoulder in identical gear of charcoal-gray cargo pants, long-sleeved polos, and windbreakers with the kennel name embroidered on the back.

  Sensing that her ordeal was over, Loba rose and moved to nose about in the wiggly pile of her pups. They were climbing over one another and rooting around in the basket lining, making mewling noises.

  Georgie moved in slowly to catch the mother-and-pups moment. “That’s amazing. Newborn puppies sound just like newborn humans?”

  “Even after seeing dozens of litters being born, it never gets old.” Taggart picked up the basket of pups. “I’ve got it from here, ladies. Happy New Year.”

  Half an hour and a nearly empty bottle of champagne later, the two friends were huddled together on a pile of quilts before the wood-burning fireplace in the century-old farmhouse Yardley called home. “Here’s the new headshot for your website.” Georgie held up her tablet, into which she’d downloaded her photos.

  Yardley took one look at the photo of her sweaty face and goofy smile and feigned horror. “Oh no! Delete it now.”

  “Not so fast.” Georgie jerked her tablet out of Yardley’s grasp. “Let’s see. What do I want in return for not releasing this photo?” She pretended to search her mind. “Hm. For now, I’ll take the rest of the champagne.”

  “Oh no, you don’t.” Yardley grabbed the bottle out from under Georgie’s reach. “You met Brad because of me. That’s got to have earned me a break.”

  “Won’t argue that.” The expression on Georgie’s face said it all. She was absolutely in love with sexy FBI operative Brad Lawson. Even if their affair had begun with Georgie at the center of an FBI bomb investigation after Brad’s explosives-sniffing K-9, Zander, had implicated her. Now, that was attraction.

  Yardley tried to hide a twinge of jealousy as she filled her own glass. “How is your hunk of wonderfulness?”

  “Good, when last seen.” She made a motion for the champagne bottle. “He and Zander had full holiday bomb-squad duty in D.C. But he’s off for ten days beginning tomorrow. He’s been very mysterious about a trip he’s planned for us. It better be somewhere tropical. All I’ve packed are bikinis, sarongs, and fifty-plus sunscreen.” The freckled redhead waggled the empty bottle before Yardley’s nose. “The question is, why are you alone?”

  “More bubbly coming up.” Yardley popped up and headed for the kitchen before she could be interrogated further.

  When she reached the privacy of the kitchen, she took a deep breath, waiting for the anxiety to subside. She knew her sense of trouble brewing was bogus. She now knew the answer to why her phone would never again ring.

  “Crap.” She grabbed a chilled bottle and hurried back to join Georgie. She wasn’t going to let anything spoil this rare girlfriend sleepover.

  “Tell me about your most recent shoot.” Yardley sat and handed over the bottle. “Anyone interesting?”

  Georgie made a face. “Just A-list celebrities. The worst. Now you answer my question.” She loosened the wire holding the cork. “Why are you alone on New Year’s Eve?”

  “I’m not alone. There’s you. And him.” Yardley pointed to the large metal kennel at the opposite end of the long room.

  Her simple action was enough to alert the inhabitant. A midsized dog with a thick yellowish-gray coat, pointed snout, erect ears, and the white face mask of a wolf stood up and growled softly.

  “That’s my exchange student Oleg. He’s a Czech wolfdog.”

  “Wow. I didn’t even know he was there. Why didn’t he bark when we came in? Is he shy?”

  “Far from it. He simply doesn’t like to give his location away.”

  Champagne abandoned, Georgie grabbed the camera that was always nearby and moved closer. “Look at those slanted yellow eyes. It’s kind of unnerving how he seems to be sizing me up. Oh, but he’s gorgeous.”

  “And deadly.” Yardley smiled, always in her element when talking about K-9s.

  “Silent and deadly?” Georgie’s green eyes appeared above the top of her camera. “Are you training K-9 black ops?”

  “Classified.” The security firm that had imported him wanted Oleg evaluated, but she was to keep her work and his skill set confidential.

  Georgie came back to her place and set her camera down. “So, about your guy. You haven’t mentioned him once.”

  Yardley’s mouth turned down. The journalist side of Georgie’s photojournalist personality was tenacious. “That’s because there’s nothing to say. It was momentary madness. I’m over it.”

  “You don’t sound like you’re over it.”

  “That’s because I don’t like to lose. He ghosted me. And I don’t know why.” Yardley heard the irritation level in her tone and reined it in. “Sorry. You know I don’t do emotional intimacy well.”

  Georgie nodded. “You’re a private person. I respect that. But even if I never met him, I know David meant something to you. If only because you never told me about the other men you’ve dated.”

  Yardley reached for the champagne. “There haven’t been that many. And none of them were serious.”

  “Until your doctor. You lit up like a Christmas tree when you told me about him.”

  “My mistake.” Yardley bit her lip. She wouldn’t, couldn’t admit what she’d done when she’d still hoped that David wanted her. Georgie would think she was losing her shit. “It just hurt that he ghosted me without even a text good-bye.”

  “Then he’s an asshole. Forget him. You can so do better.”

  Yardley smiled in gratitude for her best friend’s support. “You’re right. Whatever David and I had wasn’t real. Not like you and Brad.”

  She felt Georgie’s inspection of her increase. “Don’t you want what we have?”

  Yardley hesitated. She’d said too much. But she couldn’t, this once, keep from voicing the question that had haunted her for her whole life. “What if there’s no one out there for me? What if I’m not the type of woman a man can love?”

  Georgie chuckled. “Have you looked in the mirror lately? The men who come through Harmonie Kennels on a daily basis trip on their tongues when they catch sight of you. You could have your pick of sexy alpha males.”

  Yardley shook her head. “I can’t be all sexy come-on with a man one minute and the next expect him to appreciate me chewing his ass in public for a mistake on the training field.” She shrugged. “Besides, you know what the K-9 handlers call me.”

  “The Citadel. Unconquerable.” Georgie couldn’t tease her friend about that. Yard had fought too hard to gain and keep the respect of her male colleagues. Too bad. Every woman needed a man willing to storm her castle. “Screw Dr. Gunnar if he couldn’t see what he was throwing away. Someone will come along who’s worthy of you.”

  Yardley smiled, trying to lighten the mood. “You’re right. Some random guy will come along soon and I’ll screw his brains out to take my mind off this.”

  “No! You know that’s not at all what I meant.” Georgie reached up and touched her friend’s arm. “You deserve a man who can handle his business and be okay with you handling yours. Yet he’ll be there, if you need him. Of course, he’ll need an iron constitution and balls of steel. I’ve got it! I’ll notify the cavalry, armored division.”

  Yardley burst out laughing, feeling the sadness and doubts drift away as she raised her glass. “To the cavalry.”

  After the toast Georgie looked around for something else to talk about and spied her gift under the tree. “We didn’t open our presents. Open yours first.”

  As Yardley reached for the brightly packaged box, something fell from the bottom. It was a red envelope with sticker wreaths dec
orating it. She picked it up.

  “A card, too?” She faked surprise. “Oh, you shouldn’t have.”

  Georgie smiled. “I didn’t. It was on the doorstep when I arrived earlier. I forgot to tell you. Maybe you have a secret admirer.”

  When she opened it, Yardley’s mouth turned down. “Not exactly an admirer.”

  “What is it, Yard?”

  Yardley hesitated, then offered it. “See for yourself.”

  Georgie gasped softly. It was a cover from a porno magazine featuring bondage. The disturbing graphic picture was of a nude woman tied up in very painful ways. A photo of Yardley’s head had been Photoshopped over the model’s and her eyes blacked out. “That’s disgusting. What are you going to do?”

  “What I usually do.” Yardley took it from Georgie and tossed it toward the flames in the fireplace.

  “Wait.” Georgie jumped up and snatched it out. “You might need this. As evidence.”

  The image had shaken her, but Yardley stuffed down that feeling. “Your FBI boyfriend is rubbing off on you. I don’t jump at every insult lobbed my way.”

  “Have there have been others?”

  “About once a year someone thinks it will make them feel better to threaten me with retaliation for my decision not to pass them as certified handlers.”

  “And you get this?” Georgie held it up with two fingers.

  Disgust shuddered through her. “No. Nothing like that.”

  “You need to tell the authorities.”

  “Where would I start? My clientele comes from around the world.”

  “But this was delivered today. Without a stamp. This guy’s local.”

  Yardley rolled her eyes. “I hate having smart friends.”

  “I hate it even worse when my smart friend doesn’t act like one.”

  “There’s no one local I have a beef with. We did have to scrub a Georgia police officer trainee a few weeks back after he deliberately set his dog on another student.”

  “Sounds like the kind of guy who’d do this.”

  “Maybe. But I can’t accuse anyone without proof.”

  “Still, you should notify the sheriff. When will your staff be back?”

  “First thing Monday morning.”

  “That leaves you alone tomorrow and Sunday.” Georgiana reached for her phone. “I’ll ask Brad to come out here when he gets off in the morning.”

  “No. Don’t!” Yardley wrapped her fingers around her friend’s phone to prevent her from texting. “I won’t be responsible for ruining your getaway. I’ll call the sheriff in the morning. Okay?”

  Georgie glanced at the front door. “It’s not safe to be alone. Promise me Oleg will sleep in your room from now on.”

  “Done deal.” Yardley felt suddenly teary for no good reason she could think of. Then she did something totally out of character. She reached out and hugged her friend, hard. “Thank you for caring. Now can I open my real gift?”

  * * *

  It was nearly eight a.m. but the sun had yet to climb the dark summit of hills to the east. At the moment the frigid gray sky was clear of the thunderstorms that were predicted to precede even colder weather by nightfall.

  Yardley adjusted the headband covering her ears to shut out the wind swooping down the shoulders of the nearby mountains. The pink crocheted headband was part of her Christmas gift from Georgie. Otherwise she wouldn’t have been seen dead in it. She suspected it was a gag gift because the box had also contained another gift, a beautiful sterling-silver heart necklace with a paw pendant.

  She and Oleg had been for a brisk jog. They were still getting to know each other. But now, in the deep shadows on the side of the road, she felt the nagging fatigue of too much champagne and too little sleep. She paused and reached for the cell phone in her pocket.

  Her heartbeat quickened as she stared at the blank screen. Only one person had the number. For the past three months, six days, and innumerable miserable hours, she’d carried it with her, as if it were as necessary to her heartbeat as a pacemaker.

  She squeezed the phone until the pressure equaled the tightness around her heart. She hadn’t expected to fall for David. Hadn’t wanted a real entanglement. That’s why she’d been so slow to recognize what was happening.

  The last time they’d met, in late September, he’d been moody, worried even. He wouldn’t say why. But as they were parting at the airport in Antigua, he’d suddenly asked her about the future. Their future. Did she think they could have one? If so, would she be willing to drop everything and just come with him on a moment’s notice? No questions asked.

  Coward. She stared at the empty screen as if it had voiced that accusation.

  She’d choked. Too afraid to say yes to anything bordering on commitment, she’d told him she needed to think about it. So he’d nodded, kissed her a little too hard, and then boarded his flight. She hadn’t heard a word from him since.

  Opposing emotions Ping-Ponged through her thoughts. For three months she’d worried that something bad was keeping David from her. She’d even called her half brother Law to get his advice, which was embarrassing to think about now. At this point, she realized that kind of worry had no basis in fact. Maybe the truth was that her fear of him being in trouble was easier to accept than the fact that she’d ruined her chances with David because she couldn’t commit.

  She felt something splash her cheek. Crap. She pushed the offending moisture away with the heel of her hand. She never cried. Ever. Certainly not over a man who had dumped her without so much as a good-bye. Her father would be ashamed of her.

  That thought pushed even Dr. David Gunnar from her mind.

  Being the daughter of the late Bronson Battise, one of the most famous trainers of military and police K-9s in the United States, had its perks. And drawbacks. The biggest one being that she’d been born female. Battise didn’t think women were equal in any way to men. Harmonie Kennels wasn’t meant to be hers.

  Well, she had it, even if it was by default. Her half brother Law, whom she’d known only slightly at the time, had refused his father’s legacy. He’d signed over the hundred pastoral and wooded acres bordering the Blue Ridge Mountains to her and walked away.

  Even so, she’d fought harder than anyone would ever know to be worthy of this legacy. But it was a burden, too. This place, these acres, the business was an all-consuming life. Her trainers got to go home for the holidays to families and friends, parties and traditions. Harmonie Kennels was all she had in the world.

  Don’t feel sorry for yourself, Yard.

  Too bad if she wanted more. She knew what it was to have so much less. Maybe wanting to be loved was asking for too much.

  So she’d screwed up. She wasn’t one of those women who needed a man to feel complete. She wasn’t like Georgiana. She’d never known what it felt like to be so in love her brain stopped working because her feelings had taken control.

  Liar. She felt her face catch fire as her conscience called bullshit. She had been in love once before. Kye McGarren.

  Yardley did a mental head shake. Where had that thought come from? She must be more shook up than she thought. McGarren was her first romantic failure.

  She wasn’t good with people. She was good at being a boss. Everyone looked to her to be strong, make the hard decisions, make it work. She was respected and admired. The only ones who gazed at her with unguarded love and appreciation were her K-9s.

  At the moment, Oleg was rotating his head back and forth between her and the road ahead, as if he needed to keep an eye on both. Unlike most of her K-9s, he preferred to keep his distance from his handler. He’d been bred for protection. His job, safety of the pack. She supposed they were a lot alike.

  She reached out to brush a hand over Oleg’s tall ears. That brought his attention back to her. In his gaze, which she knew better than to hold long, she saw that he accepted her as his alpha. But he didn’t adore her, as every other dog she worked with did. “You’re my male challenge of the moment, are yo
u, big fella?”

  Or maybe she was losing her touch.

  Suddenly she was angrier than she could ever recall being. She hauled back and put everything she had into the toss that sent her phone arcing into the undergrowth on the hillside. On Monday she’d get a new phone with a new number. And go back to her life.

  “Screw love!” And screw Kye McGarren, wherever he might be, and the memories of a time when she’d wanted more.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Kye swallowed the last of his extra-large Styrofoam cup of coffee. It was lukewarm, revealing the oily dregs from a convenience store pot that needed cleaning. The liquid hit his stomach and spread acid burn like napalm. Even so, he regretted that it was his last gulp. After a final working day on the slopes, he’d spent New Year’s Eve on a red-eye flight from Salt Lake City to Washington, D.C.

  Being a big man, flying coach middle seat wasn’t his favorite way to travel. But he really couldn’t have asked the six-year-old at the window to change with him. Not when she’d been face-glued to the miracle of darkness outside and offering a running monologue about its “awesomeness.” On the other side of him the girl’s mother, with a three-month-old in her arms, needed the aisle. Lily, down in luggage, had more room in her crate.

  No worries. He’d plugged in his headphones, turned up the volume, and tried to forget that he was wedged in like tuna in a sardine can.

  All in all, an IV drip of Red Bull would be welcome about now.

  Kye glanced over at Lily, who occupied the kennel beside him on the seat of the rental car. He reached between the bars with his fingers and scratched her snout. “I know this isn’t our usual assignment. It’s more Lucy and Ricky Ricardo than search and rescue. Your job. Be charming. I’ll be comic relief. Oh, and don’t get eaten by the locals.” The kennel would be full of alpha K-9s happy to assert their authority. “Think you can do that?”

  Lily gave a series of high-pitched yips between finger licks, her thick tail beating the bars because it wasn’t free to wag.

  “That’s my girl.”