by Terri Reed
“I’ve got her,” Jones said, clearly picking up on the same vibe as Gina.
Mollified, Shane nodded and followed the receptionist to the exam room. Once he and Bella disappeared, the older woman headed back to them. “Care for some coffee, Chief?”
“Thank you, Gladys.” Jones tipped his chin to her. “Much appreciated.”
Gladys sent Gina an inquiring look.
“No, thank you.” She had enough acid reflux going on. Adding to it would only exacerbate the malady. She took deep, calming breaths and tried to block the terror that lingered in her veins.
Twenty minutes later, Shane and Bella walked out of the exam room followed by the vet. Delighted to see Bella up and about, Gina knelt to give the dog a hug.
Bella licked her face. Emotion clogged Gina’s throat. She lifted her gaze to Shane. “She’s all right?”
“She’s tough,” he said with obvious pride in his tone.
Tanya smiled. “She’ll need to rest for a day but she’ll be fine. I found no permanent damage.”
Chief Jones’s cell phone rang. He answered, listened and then said, “We’ll be right over.” When he hung up, he tipped his head toward the door. “We need to get to the station.”
“Did someone capture Tim?” Gina asked.
Jones shook his head but didn’t say anything more before striding toward the exit.
After thanking Tanya, they hurried to the station. Once there, the chief motioned for Shane and Bella to follow him. “Gina, you can wait in the break room.”
Trying not to be hurt by the dismissal, she took a seat at one of the round tables in the space reserved for the officers’ breaks. Her stomach growled, reminding her she hadn’t eaten lunch. She’d left her purse at the center so she had no money to feed the vending machine. Instead she made a cup of tea from the communal box on the counter.
The rapid click of heels on the linoleum echoed in the stillness as Carrie Dunleavy entered the room and stopped abruptly when she saw Gina. Gina didn’t know the police department’s secretary well. In fact, she couldn’t remember having a conversation with her that was more than a few sentences of polite chitchat.
Not in the mood to move beyond politeness right now, Gina smiled a greeting and resumed her seat at the table. She held the warm cup between her hands.
“I heard what happened to you,” Carrie said as she glided forward, her brown eyes concerned behind the frames of her horn-rimmed glasses. “It’s just awful. You must have been so scared.”
Gina wasn’t sure exactly what Carrie was referring to considering all that had happened in the past twenty-four hours. So she let her answer encompass all of it. “Yes, very scared.”
“I heard Bella was hurt?”
“She’ll be okay.” Gina stared into her cup of Earl Grey as guilt for the dog’s injuries choked her.
Carrie moved to the refrigerator and withdrew a white box. “I made cupcakes. Would you like one? Double chocolate.”
Gina’s mouth watered. Normally, she’d pass on sugary sweets, but today she’d make an exception. “Yes, please. That’s so kind of you to offer.”
Carrie used tongs to pluck a large cupcake from the box and put it on a napkin in front of Gina. The big round cupcake was encased in a flowery paper holder and the top was piled high with creamy chocolate frosting sprinkled with colorful confetti candy pieces. Gina bit into the confection. Rich, creamy, moist and oh, so delicious. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d tasted anything this good. “Wow, this is fabulous.”
“I love to bake,” Carrie confessed with a shy, pleased smile. “It’s my therapy.”
Gina shot her a startled glance. Was she making fun of Gina? Did she know mental illness ran in her family? But Carrie’s gaze held no laughter or mockery. Relaxing slightly, Gina remarked, “Probably more cost-effective than retail therapy.”
Carrie laughed softly. “I’m definitely not much of a fashion horse.”
“Me, neither. Dogs don’t care what I wear as long as I have treats available.”
“That’s true.”
Gina munched on the sweet in her hand, savoring every morsel. “I hear plans for the upcoming Canyon County Police Dance and Fundraiser are coming along nicely.” A few ladies at the singles’ potluck had been talking about the event held every year in May, though Gina hadn’t been able to bring herself to attend. The event was too big with too much attention drawn to the attendees. She’d needed to stay out of the limelight, too afraid the publicity would attract her brother’s attention.
So much for having to worry about that anymore.
Carrie shut the bakery box lid. “I’m on the food committee.”
Wistfully watching the box of treats disappear back into the fridge, Gina remarked, “Makes sense for you to be on the food committee since you like to bake, right? I imagine everyone will want to taste whatever you make.”
“Hope so. I should get back to my desk. See you later.” She left the room as quickly as she’d entered.
Gina enjoyed the last bite of cupcake and washed it down with a swig of tea. Thinking about the upcoming dance made her wonder if Shane would still be in town come May. And if so, would he attend?
She couldn’t stop the flurry of excitement tying her insides into knots. Maybe this year she would go. Maybe Shane would ask her to dance.
Her palms grew slick with anticipation. And worry. If he did ask, how in the world would she ever do the smart thing and say no?
* * *
Shane settled into a chair in the chief’s office with Bella sitting at his feet. Chief Jones took his seat behind his desk. Ryder Hayes folded his frame into the seat next to Shane, his dog, Titus, moving stiffly to lie down next to Bella. The Lab nudged Bella with his nose, prompting Bella to also lie down. She set her chin on her paws.
The chief opened a folder. “The medical examiner in Flagstaff rushed Veronica’s autopsy and faxed over the report confirming the cause of death as two gunshot wounds.” He ran a finger down a page as he read. “Stippling at the entrance sites suggests the killer was within a foot of Veronica when the trigger was engaged. Two .45-caliber slugs were retrieved. The crime scene techs in Flagstaff ran the bullets through the National Integrated Ballistics Information Network but no hits.”
Meaning the gun in question hadn’t been previously used in a crime. At least not one that had been inputted into the database that the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms maintained to provide federal, state and local partner agencies with an automated ballistic imaging system. NIBIN partners used the database to discover formerly impossible-to-identify links between firearms-related violent crimes and to identify firearm users or “trigger pullers.”
“Fingerprints on the slugs?” Shane asked, thinking the perpetrator might have left behind a trace of evidence when loading the weapon.
“None viable. Nor on the casings recovered in the training center last night,” the chief said. “I have Harmon and Marlton out searching every garbage can, crevice and potential dumping spot for the weapon.”
The chief set the folder aside then pinned his gaze on Shane. “For the next twenty-four hours, you’ll be relieved of duty while we investigate this morning’s shooting.”
Though he’d known this was coming, the order still rankled. “Yes, sir.” Shane withdrew his sidearm and placed it on the desk.
“Ryder, take Donaldson to the training center. Find the spent bullet and casing. Make sure no innocent bystander was harmed because of Officer Weston’s weapon.”
Ryder stood. “Will do.” Titus struggled to his feet, ready to work.
“And, Ryder, check in with Sophie. See if she found out how Tim Perry gained entrance to the center.” The chief steepled his fingers and rested his elbows on the desk. “Go over her alibi again.”
For a moment Ry
der hesitated, then nodded. “On it.” He and his partner left the office.
Once the door closed behind them, Shane met the chief’s gaze. “I’ll take Gina back to the condo. She and Bella both could use some downtime.”
“Good idea,” the chief said. He reached for a paper on his desk and handed it to Shane. “Call the people on this list and check alibis. In some cases, double-check their alibis. If anyone seems the least bit fishy, flag them and we’ll bring them in for a formal chat.”
Glad to be of service, Shane took the list. A quick perusal showed the names of many people in town, including Veronica’s ex-husband, and a few who’d left town, like Gina’s friend Jenna Cruz, a former employee of the training center. He folded the paper and put it in his breast pocket. “Gina asked about a memorial service for Veronica.”
Jones leaned back in his chair and scrubbed a hand over his unshaven jaw. “Arrangements will need to be made once the Flagstaff ME releases Veronica’s body. I’ll have Carrie talk with Randolph Drummond about a service.”
“Has her next of kin been notified?”
“I’ll drive out to the state prison and tell her brother, Lee.” Jones heaved a heavy sigh.
Shane didn’t envy the chief the task of notifying Lee Earnshaw of his sister’s murder. Giving notifications was one of the harder parts of the job.
The quick rap of knuckles on the office door had the chief calling out, “Enter.”
Officer Ken Bucks stuck his head in. “The rookies are all set up with desks.”
The inflection in his tone when he said rookies set Shane’s teeth on edge. It was clear the officer wasn’t happy to be sharing space or duties with the newly graduated K-9 officers. Too bad. From what Shane could tell, the officers of Desert Valley needed help.
Jones inclined his head. “Thank you, Ken.” Ken remained in the doorway. “Was there something else?”
Ken shrugged, not exactly eager to leave. “Nope.” He backed away and clicked the door closed behind him.
The chief huffed out a breath. “That boy. Sometimes...”
Shane wouldn’t qualify Ken Bucks as a boy. He was older than Shane by at least ten years. “Sir?”
“Sorry. Ken’s my stepson. Ex-stepson, to be exact. I raised him through the teen years.”
Shane hadn’t known they were family. It was on the tip of his tongue to commiserate with the chief, but then he thought better of it. Time to change the subject before he said something he might regret. “Gina had the idea of putting up flyers for the missing puppy.”
“Good idea.” Jones’s tone was rife with approval. “Have her give the information to Carrie to make the flyers. While they work on that you can file your report on the OIS.”
Filing a detailed account of any officer-involved shooting was standard procedure. It would be Shane’s first. He rose. “I’ll do that.”
He and Bella left the chief to find Gina in the break room. She sat at a round table by herself, staring into her cup. She’d retied her long red hair back into a neat braid that trailed down her back. Her T-shirt and light-colored cargo pants still looked fresh despite the trauma of her brother trapping her in the training arena. She looked up. Her pretty hazel eyes had lost some of the sparkle she’d had during his training sessions. He missed that sparkle. He’d liked that sparkle. He liked her.
“Everything okay?” she asked.
“Yes.” He explained about his temporary leave of duty and that the chief had given him a list of potential suspects to contact. “He also suggested you work with Carrie, the police department secretary, to make flyers about Marco.”
“Great.” She pushed back her chair and rose. “I’ll go find her now.”
“I have to write up a report on the incident this morning. Then we can start hanging the flyers.”
She touched his arm. “I’m sorry for all the trouble my brother has caused.”
He covered her hand with his own. Her skin was cool and yet warmth spread from the point of contact to the vicinity of his heart. “Stop that. Your brother’s actions aren’t your fault. He’s chosen this destructive path. He’s the only one to blame.”
Her smile trembled. “You’re a kind man, Shane Weston. I appreciate you and all you’re doing for me.”
Staring into her gold-flecked eyes, he found himself wanting more than her appreciation—he wanted her affection. Yearning pulled at him so strongly, like an invisible hook, dragging him toward her. The distance between them shortened as he leaned close. Her lips parted. She made a little noise in her throat.
His gaze jumped to hers. Was she distressed?
What was he thinking? Kissing Gina? So inappropriate, unprofessional and dumb. Stricken by his loss of self-control, he jerked back.
But Gina’s hand fisted the front of his shirt and tugged him closer.
He’d mistaken her response as upset, but apparently it was consent. His pulse skittered.
Their lips touched. Hers were soft, pliant, and yet there was a hint of desperation in the kiss that made him want to weep for her. Gina was reacting to the danger and terror she’d suffered.
She was reaching out for contact as a way to assure herself she was whole and intact.
Shane’s head knew this, but his heart cracked just a little as he disengaged. Reading more into the kiss than simple human need for connection would only hurt him, and her, in the end. A fate he hoped to avoid.
EIGHT
Two hours later, Gina and Shane left the police station in his Jeep and headed for the center of town. From the back compartment that was separated by a tension gate, Bella moved from window to window, her vigilant gaze sweeping the main thoroughfare. Gina hoped the dog would alert on Tim long before either she or Shane saw him.
There was a measure of comfort in the dog’s presence, but she knew they couldn’t become complacent. Tim was out there somewhere and he wanted to hurt her, terrorize her and eventually kill her.
Gina was glad for a task to take her mind off her brother. She and Shane were armed with a stack of colored flyers displaying a cute picture and details about Marco as well as a plea to please contact the Canyon County Training Center or the Desert Valley Police Department with any information regarding the missing puppy. A staple gun and a roll of tape sat in the console between them.
Shane parked the vehicle so they could jump out and take the flyers into the businesses. He also had a photo of Gina’s brother and showed it to every person they encountered.
Unfortunately, no recognized him.
Moving quickly, she and Shane managed to tape up flyers in most of the front windows of the businesses along Desert Valley Road while Whitney and James tackled the telephone poles and trees lining the street. By the time they were done, it was after five, and most of the citizens of Desert Valley were closing up shop and heading home for dinner with their families.
The setting sun painted streaks of vibrant yellows, oranges and pinks across the western sky, backlighting the dense forest of mesquite trees and ponderosa pines that surrounded the town. Normally, Gina would find the view calming, but her pulse still hadn’t settled down to a regular rhythm after the brief kiss she’d shared with Shane.
She must’ve had a momentary flare of insanity, because she’d practically forced Shane to kiss her!
Okay, he’d leaned in, yes. But then he’d clearly reconsidered the wisdom of kissing her and started to back away. And she, well, she’d acted. Brazenly. Boldly. And so recklessly.
Though she regretted her impulsiveness, she didn’t regret the moment. His kiss had poured through her like warm chocolate over ice cream, melting her all the way to her toes. That her legs had kept her upright was a surprise.
She’d never had a kiss so potent before.
Not that she’d done a lot of kissing. Kind of hard to find someone to
kiss when she rarely went on a date, let alone allowed herself to become emotionally attached enough to warrant a kiss. Because she was too afraid to fall in love, to believe she could have a normal, happy life.
There’d been one guy before she had been forced to flee Mesa to hide from her brother. She’d met Roger Clay at a dog-training facility.
Both he and the rottweiler he’d brought in for training had taken a shine to her, making her feel special. Roger had been kind and caring, funny even. They’d gone out three times. He’d kissed her on their last date and she’d been left feeling let down and disappointed by the lack of chemistry.
Not so with Shane’s kiss. The second their lips touched, energy flowed between them, thrilling in its intensity. But then he’d pulled away, leaving her wanting more.
She was in so much trouble. It had to be the stress of Veronica’s murder, the missing puppy and her brother stalking her. Letting her attraction to Shane rule her head wasn’t a good idea. She needed to keep him at an emotional distance. She could be friendly but professional. Yes, that sounded like a good plan.
Then why did she feel so out of sorts?
“It’ll be dark soon,” Shane commented. “We should head to the condo. I’m starved. We have steaks I can grill.”
“Food would be good.” Though she wondered if she’d be able to eat with her nerves jumping. Every time he got close, agitated butterflies took flight in her tummy and her lips ached for attention. “I need to stop at the training center to get the puppies. I don’t want to leave them there alone all night.”
“Of course.”
As they approached the center, Gina glanced down the side street to her little house at the far end of the road. She sighed and wished she could go home. She had no idea if or when that would happen. It wasn’t that she was ungrateful to Shane and James for letting her share the condo, but her house had been her sanctuary. Only, now it wasn’t. Tim had violated her home and forced her out.
A horn beeped, drawing her focus to the Desert Valley Police Department vehicle. Chief Jones sat at the wheel. He rolled down his window. Gina did the same.
