by Nina Bruhns
“Could the woman want her back?”
“Wouldn’t she just ask?”
“You’d think. All right, could Pogo have opened the door herself?”
Emily’s jaw dropped. “Are you kidding me?”
“I had to ask,” he muttered, and glanced around the living room. “Is anything else missing?”
She hugged her robe to her body as she turned in a slow circle and studied the shelves and walls. She shook her head. “I can’t be certain, but… I don’t think so.” She met his gaze. “Nick? What’s going on?”
He looked as perplexed as she felt. “Got me. Come on. Let’s get dressed and go look down on the street. Maybe the dogs surprised a would-be burglar and Pogo simply escaped while the door was open. What do you bet we find her crying down by the front entry?”
Emily nodded and rushed back to the bedroom to change. “I hope you’re right. She hasn’t taken her pill yet this morning.”
Nick appeared in the bedroom door. “Her pill?”
“She had a bad ear infection and she’s supposed to take her pills until they’re all gone. I think there are five or so left.”
She pulled on jeans and a blue turtleneck and noticed Nick was still staring at her. “What?”
“Do you happen to know the name of her vet?”
She blinked. “No. Why?”
“Where are the pills?” he asked.
“On the kitchen counter. What does that have to do with anything?”
But he’d already vanished. After ducking into the bathroom for a two-minute version of her morning routine, she hurried after him. She found him in the kitchen setting down the pill bottle, his mouth pressed into a thin line.
“What’s wrong?”
He shook his head. “Nothing. I’m just being paranoid. Come on, let’s go find Pogo.”
Zenon was already on his leash, so she grabbed Pogo’s and her purse, and they sped down the three flights to the outer entry.
Still no Pogo.
“Find Pogo, boy,” Nick told Zenon, but although the Airedale sniffed like crazy, he never gave an indication of finding Pogo’s scent. On the other hand, scenting wasn’t really his forte.
So they walked up and down the block, asking everyone they met if they’d seen a white dog, either wandering around lost or being carried off. No luck. They combed the surrounding blocks, as well, and came up with nothing.
“I should call all the area vets, in case she was brought in hurt,” Emily reluctantly said when they finally gave up.
“I’ll call animal control and the pounds,” he volunteered. But he looked distracted and antsy. Like he had other things on his mind.
She suddenly realized he’d spent half his morning helping her, and he probably had plans for his day that did not include her, or searching for a lost dog.
“That’s okay,” she said, reluctant to see him go—on many levels. “I can take it from here. I’m sure you have better things to do today. It was really nice of you to help this much.”
“I don’t know about better,” he said. To his credit, he looked torn. “But I did volunteer to do the Santa bit again for the Orphans and Widows Fund.”
She smiled through her worry. “Then you need to go. I can take it from here. Honest. Thanks.”
“Don’t thank me,” he said with a frown. “It’s my fault she’s gone.”
She shook her head. “There were two of us who forgot to lock that door.” Which made her think of last night and why they’d both forgotten. “I guess we were a little distracted.” She nibbled on her lower lip.
He stepped in close to her and touched her cheek, sweeping his fingers back through her hair. “Yeah. No excuse, but a helluva good reason.” He put his lips to her forehead. “Last night was incredible. I’m sorry it ended like this.”
Wow. That sounded final.
The moment stretched.
Well, what had she expected?
Okay…
“Me, too,” she managed, lowering her eyes so as not to give away the disappointment in them. “But don’t worry about it. I’ll find her,” she said, pretending to misinterpret.
“Yeah, I’m sure you will.” He pressed a kiss into her hair as she studied her shoes and fought off the irrational hurt.
Irrational because they’d both made it clear last night that they were all wrong for each other.
She’d known exactly what she was doing, and had proceeded at her own risk. Who would have guessed she’d change her mind so thoroughly by morning?
“Listen, Emily, I—”
No, she really didn’t want to hear his brush-off.
She stepped back from him and pasted on a bright smile. “It’s okay. I know you have to go now. Thanks again, Nick. For everything.” Unable to stop herself, she leaned up and brushed one final, light kiss over his lips. She drew in a last deep inhale of his musky, masculine scent, committing it to her sensory memory—to pull out on the dark, lonely, winter nights to come.
Then, steeling herself, she turned smartly and walked away.
“Emily!” he called after her.
She raised a hand and waved, though she didn’t dare turn around.
The last thing she needed was to hear his excuses.
And the last thing she wanted was for him to see the tears that filled her eyes.
Chapter 6
Nick watched Emily walk away, never more torn in his life. He knew he should let her go. It was pretty clear from her resolute departure that her experience last night must not have been the same as his. Not as profound. Not as life-alteringly good.
Every fiber of his being wanted to run after her and demand she give him a second chance. A second chance to lock that damned door. A second chance to make love to her. A second chance to insinuate himself into her heart so she couldn’t walk away, ever again.
Yeah, right.
That was really going to happen. And definitely not in the short time she’d be here in Manhattan. Besides, even if it did, what would he do when it was time for her to leave? Ask her to move in with him?
Perish the thought.
High maintenance, he reminded himself. Sure, she was sweet as honey and soft as a sigh, but nothing he’d seen last night had changed his mind about that.
Emily was not the kind of woman who’d be content as a cop’s wife. Trying to fit her into his life would lead to endless heartache.
Nope. She had it right. Best to skip that whole scenario.
He puffed out a breath and headed for the precinct, determined to spend another day in that damned Santa suit, camera whirring and silver bell in hand, chasing demons.
Well, one demon in particular, anyway.
And as for his personal demons, well, they’d just have to stand in line.
* * *
Nick arrived at his street corner two hours late. Not that it frikkin’ mattered. Kraznov stalked by on his way to work forty-five minutes later, looking preoccupied. Nick tried not to think about what the bastard might have been up to all morning instead of giving rabies shots. It would just make him crazy.
But one thing he was fairly sure of, Kraznov had not been out dog-napping—despite the bizarre coincidence of his name being listed as the prescribing vet on Pogo’s bottle of ear infection pills. As hard as it was for a cop to accept, sometimes a coincidence was simply that.
Nick did not expect to make any headway in the human trafficking case by staking out Kraznov’s office again today. But at least he was taking action, however ineffectual. He couldn’t abide doing nothing while that scumbucket still walked around a free man. Nick didn’t mind working the donation stand. The Widows and Orphans would benefit. And it would keep his mind off other things. Besides, what else did he have to do on a Thursday off, other than brood about the woman who’d just left him behind without a backward glance?
After the incredible night they’d shared.
Damn. He’d promised himself he wouldn’t think about her.
So he concentrated instead
on thinking about the case, in-between trying to absorb a bit of Christmas spirit from the passersby. Though the last was nearly as hopeless as the first.
Suddenly, Zenon jumped to his feet, alert, and started to whine. Nick followed his intent gaze and spotted a flurry of activity on the sidewalk half a block down. Someone was running toward them, scattering pedestrians in her wake.
Emily!
Zenon gave a sharp bark and tugged at the leash. Emily was cradling a red and white bundle in her arms. Nick frowned, and strained to see what it was. Judging by Zenon’s reaction it must be Pogo. But it looked like—
Good God! It was Pogo. And she was wrapped in a white towel that was covered in… blood! Even from this distance, he could see Emily was utterly distraught as she carefully ran, protecting the bundle like a baby.
Damn.
Nick grabbed the donation pot from the stand, wrapped Zenon’s leash tightly around his hand, and took off at a sprint toward her. His Santa hat and Zenon’s reindeer antlers went flying, and his white beard had whipped around behind his neck by the time he reached her.
“Are you hurt?” he called, dashing into the street to stop a passing cab.
“Pogo. She got… hit by… a car,” Emily sobbed, her cheeks covered in tears. “Have to get her… to the vet’s.”
The taxi squealed to a halt, and he waved her over to it.
“Hop in. The Chelsea Animal Hospital is just two blocks away. Zenon, up!”
She hesitated. “B-but her pills say—
“You’re not taking her there,” he informed her, urged her in, and slid in after her. He instructed the taxi driver where to go, and handed him enough money to double the fare. “Quickly, please!”
“Why n-not?” she asked, holding Pogo on her lap as gingerly as a melting snowflake.
He shook his head. “Later, okay?”
She was too rattled to protest. Poor Pogo lay trembling in her towel cocoon, only her fuzzy little face peeking out. Her eyes were slitted in pain, but she was conscious, and seemed to be breathing all right.
Zenon sat on the floor between his feet and had his chin on Nick’s knee, peering worriedly at Pogo and whining.
“It’s all right, boy. She’ll be okay,” he told him with a reassuring scratch behind the ears, then told Emily, “Don’t worry. We’re almost there.”
“Thanks for helping me.” She pulled in a stuttering breath, visibly trying to calm herself. “I don’t know what I’ll do if she—”
“She won’t.” He gently drew his thumbs over her cheeks, gathering the moisture from them. “Sweetheart, how did this happen?”
She swallowed, and bit her lip. “I finally spoke to someone who thought they’d seen her cowering under a parked car down on 23rd. So I went to look, and I saw her! I was so happy I called her name. Oh, Nick, I wasn’t thinking. She darted out into the street just as a car came around the corner, and…” Her words trailed off.
“Shhh. Honey, it’s not your fault. She’ll be okay.” He leaned over and kissed her temple. “Here we are. Come on.”
He helped her out of the taxi, and for once Zenon obeyed Nick’s commands, trotting obediently at his side as he held the animal hospital door open for Emily, and they descended on the receptionist.
Pogo was immediately rushed in to see the vet. Emily chose to wait anxiously with him in the waiting room for the verdict.
“I’d probably faint,” she confessed fretfully.
“Not every day we get such a distinguished visitor,” the receptionist said as she handed them the paperwork to fill out. She smiled kindly. “I’ve told the doctor to take extra care with your pup, Santa.”
“Appreciate that,” Nick said, recalling the disheveled state of his outfit and pulling off his catawampus beard. He dug for a business card as he stuffed the beard in his pocket, and handed it to her. “I’m actually Detective Nick Palladin, 10th Precinct. Can you let us know as soon as the vet has a prognosis?”
“I’ll go check right now,” she said, and disappeared into the back.
He and Emily took a seat.
“What am I going to tell Cindy?” she murmured worriedly. “She’s going to be furious with me.”
He put his arms around her and pulled her as close to his side as he could in the plastic chairs. “No, she’ll understand. Things happen. Not your fault, remember?”
She sighed, put her head on his shoulder, and traced her fingers down the front of his red plush suit, touching each of the big black buttons. “I’m sorry I dragged you away from your Santa post. Again. I always seem to be disrupting your day.”
“Don’t be silly.” He tenderly pushed a stray hair behind her ear. “You always brighten my day.” Then he made a move. “Well. Except for this part.”
She gave him a watery smile that looked an awful lot like she didn’t believe him. He knew he shouldn’t, but he couldn’t help himself. He leaned over and kissed her. She didn’t object. In fact, she lingered over it. Despite the circumstances, it felt good. Right.
Did that mean she’d changed her mind about him? Or was this just gratitude talking…? He was more confused than ever.
They really would have to talk.
Later.
After filling in the paperwork, she let herself be gathered up in his arms, and they waited like that until the vet appeared. He introduced himself, shook their hands, and said, “Ajax will be just fine. She has suffered some nasty cuts from the pavement when she hit, which is what caused all the bleeding, but there are no broken bones or serious injuries.”
“Oh, thank God,” Emily said on an exhale. “Thank you so much, doctor.” She gave a much-relieved laugh. “But her name is Pogo.”
He looked surprised. “Pogo? Really?” His brows went up. “Strange. Her microchip says her name is Ajax.”
“Oh, I can explain. She’s a rescue… kind of,” Emily said. “My friend must have changed her name when she got her.” She made a face. “No wonder. Ajax isn’t really a girl’s name, even for a dog, is it?”
The vet laughed jovially. “Well, whatever her name is, she needs to take it easy for a couple of days. I’ve given her a sedative so she should sleep well tonight. But no hard celebrating for her birthday tomorrow. Though I suppose an extra treat or two won’t hurt, if she’s up for it.”
Emily blinked. “It’s her birthday tomorrow?” Surely, Cindy would have mentioned that. She adored her dog.
“According to the microchip. The birth date should be accurate, despite the name change.”
Just then the receptionist bustled over with a bottle of anti-inflammatories and a sheet of instructions. After listening carefully to vet’s precautions, Nick sent Emily and Zenon out to hail a cab while he paid the bill, then gingerly took Pogo from the assistant and joined them.
“Poor little thing,” he murmured. She was all bandaged up, and looked positively wrung out, though her tail was wobbling in a feeble attempt at a wag. Zenon kept snuffling at her, and gently bumping her with his nose.
When they got to Emily’s apartment, Nick laid Pogo gently onto her doggie bed in the living room. Zenon curled up next to the bed, and Emily tenderly adjusted her so she wasn’t resting on any of her bandages.
Nick rose and shuffled awkwardly, not sure what was expected. “Well, I guess I’ll—”
“Can you stay?” she asked plaintively, getting to her feet, as well. Then she made a face. “Here I go again. You probably have things to do, and—”
“No. I mean, no I don’t. It’s my day off. And anyway, I’m thinking…” He caught himself, and pressed his lips together.
Damn.
With a tiny, wry smile, she completed his thought. “And anyway, you’re thinking we probably need to talk?”
Chapter 7
“You read my mind,” Nick said with a nod.
Emily had never been so appalled in her life. Or as terrified. Oh, God. What had she done? Forcing an honest discussion of their chances at a relationship? Was she completely nuts?
&
nbsp; He pulled out his cell phone. “But first, I need to call someone to pick up the Widows and Orphans stand and come by for the donation pot. Is that okay?”
She nodded. “Of course.”
Her stomach rumbled, and she suddenly realized she was starving. She checked her watch. No wonder! It was nearly dinnertime and she still hadn’t eaten a bite today.
She also noticed her arm was covered in dog blood. Yuck!
“And I’m going to take a quick shower,” she said, and started for the bedroom. “Then I’ll see if there’s anything I can throw together for dinner. Are you hungry?”
“Famished,” he called after her. “But I can’t imagine you feel like cooking. Why don’t I order takeout? What do you feel like?”
“That would be great,” she called back. “Surprise me. Just no sushi, please!”
She could hear him chuckle. “Got it. No raw fish.”
After her quick shower, she faced a dilemma—what to wear. Wrapped in a towel, she sat on the bed and deliberated. Was he expecting something sexy, like last night? Or would that just derail their talk and cloud the issue on on both their minds?
Which maybe wouldn’t be such a bad thing…
She heard the front door buzzer, followed shortly by the low rumble of male voices. The food? Or his colleague picking up the donations? Either way, it made up her mind, since there’d be a second visitor any minute. She put on a clean pair of jeans and a soft red sweater.
When she walked into the living room, she found Nick on the sofa, fiddling with a small, square thing about the size of a large ring box. “What’s that?” she asked.
“A camera,” he said, with an expression she couldn’t quite decipher.
“Really? What for?” She sat down next to him.
“Remember you asked why we couldn’t go to the vet listed on the pill bottle?” She nodded. “Well, I’ve been staking him out, taking photos of his patients.”
He went on to explain why—that he was certain the vet was the leader of a human trafficking ring, but he had no evidence to prove it. Then he went on to tell the heartbreaking story of a young girl who’d been abducted and abused by the vicious traffickers, and had died in Nick’s arms after confirming his suspicions.
