Protective Instinct

by Tricia Lynne

  Mrs. Edmonds waved me off. “Hush, girl. Dogs will be dogs on occasion. Even dogs like Jet. It wasn’t a bother, just thought it was odd enough that you should know.”

  That was true. I’d never seen Jet behave like that. Not even as a pup. After I got the dogs leashed, we went home. When I opened the front door, they darted inside, whining and sniffing.

  Something was very off with my pups. I walked into the kitchen, saw the note on the counter written in sloppy scrawl on my own damn notepad.

  You keep asking questions and I’ll make you watch while I gut your dogs.

  Then I’ll bleed you, too. You got lucky this time. BTW, 12DA was a piss poor stud and too small to sell as bait.

  So, I shot him.

  Can’t believe the little bastard lived.

  Ohmygod that was the brand on Mack’s belly.

  12DA.

  CC’s brand read 63DA.

  And these motherfuckers came into my house and threatened my dogs! Threatened me! Well, this shit just backfired on them. Because I had their number. Literally. Something I’d waited to tell Brody because of all the other feels last night.

  I wasn’t scared of them. I was fucking pissed. Rage coursed through me. When I opened the back door for the dogs, I saw the busted window in my laundry room. Damn them.

  Whipping out my phone, I dialed Brody as I walked around the house to see if anything else had been touched.

  “Hey, darlin’, I’m getting ready to go to the doctor. Miss me already?”

  “Those motherfuckers broke into my house and threatened to gut my dogs!” I turned back to the living room, scanning over everything.

  “Say what now?”

  “I found another note. They broke into my house last night. Threatened me, and the dogs, and said I was lucky I wasn’t here.”

  I felt a rage like I’d never experienced before building under my skin. This must’ve been what a mother felt like protecting her young. It worked up my spine, over my shoulders and up my neck, down into my arms that were tense as a bow string and into my hands that I’d balled into fists.

  I’d never been in a fist fight and had wondered from time to time about my fight or flight. Would I flee like Mack or would I go batshit like Jet?

  I had my answer.

  “Lily, calm down. You need to call the police. I’m on my way now.”

  That snapped me out of it. “No. You can’t come, Brody. Not with cops. Not if we’re going to keep us a secret.”

  “Shit. Goddamn motherfucking shit!” He pushed out a heavy breath, trying to get a grip on his own temper. “Okay. How’d they get in?”

  “Hopped the fence and broke a window. And before you ask, I have a video doorbell and cameras for the front and back of the house that I haven’t installed yet.” Walking into my bedroom, I noticed my jewelry box open. “Shit. Please, please, please no.”

  “Lily, what’s wrong?”

  I picked through my jewelry, searching for the only thing that meant anything to me. “No. Please, no. Brody...they took my daddy’s championship ring.”

  It wasn’t until I hung up and called the cops that I noticed the other thing that was missing.

  The slip of paper on the edge of my desk with the name and phone number Brody and Hayes had managed to get out of the pet shop owner.

  * * *

  “We’ll check with neighbors to see if any of them have cameras that could have caught the thief. I’ll check into the name you gave me, but it’s only speculation at this point. Whoever came in got out clean. I’ll have forensics examine the letter for evidence.” Officer Johnson held up the plastic bag.

  I told him about the mill and gave him the name and number Brody had gotten at the pet store. Come to find out Officer Johnson was a dog lover. He had a retired K-9 at home. “I’ll do some research into the mill, Ms. Costello, but you should let the professionals handle it. File a complaint, hand over your evidence, and let the appropriate authorities investigate.”

  Yeah, because that won’t get buried and never happen. Besides, how did I file a complaint about animal abuse when I had no animals and no way of knowing when the next would show up?

  I played along to get rid of him. “I’d just really like to get my dad’s ring back. What are the odds you guys will find it?”

  His sympathetic smile made me want to smack him no matter how nice he and his partner were. “We’ll do our best.” His mouth said one thing, but his face said don’t bet on it. “You got someplace you can go for a few nights? Or maybe someone who can stay here with you?”

  Nodding, I fidgeted with the inside of my lip.

  Please leave so I can call Brody. I still needed to tell him what I’d told the cop.

  Finally, he left, and I sank down on the step in my backyard, phone in hand.

  Twenty minutes later, he showed up sans shoulder brace. “What did the cop say?”

  “They’ll look into Andrew Brower, but unless they can connect him, they can’t do anything. They got out clean, but they’re going to check the letter. I feel like I got a very polite blow off. Takeaway: No blood or bodily harm pushed me way down the priority list.”

  “Yeah, but your dad’s ring...”

  I fiddled with a hangnail. “It’s insured, but that’s not the point.”

  Brody pulled me into his arms. Lines were etched into his face that I’d never seen before. “I’m so sorry, darlin’.”

  “I didn’t get to tell you last night because we were...” I cleared my throat.

  “Playing hide the salami?” he added.

  It had the desired effect.

  A laugh burst from me and I leaned back to see his face. “While you were gone, I came up empty on Andrew Brower. What I did find, I didn’t think was our guy.”

  “What makes you say that?” Brody picked up Mack’s ball, hurled it into the yard, and the dog darted after it.

  “The first guy was an engineer relocated here from Seattle. The second was a journalist. Not exactly the guys you’d expect to be running a puppy farm. I gave the officer the name and number you got at the pet shop, and copies of my research. But what I couldn’t tell him was I gave the name and number to Carrie, too.”

  “Why Carrie?” he asked.

  “Um, because she’s a white hat hacker. She consults. Companies hire her to test their internet security systems for weak spots.”

  Brody’s mouth dropped open. “Sweet little Carrie? I’ll be damned.” Brody guffawed. “I wouldn’t have guessed.”

  “Yeah, you don’t want to piss her off, trust me. She can clean out your accounts and have you declared legally dead inside of five minutes. I’m sure what she did must have been all kinds of illegal, but she managed to find out that Andrew Brower is most likely an alias, the phone was a burner phone someone paid cash for. BUT, she was able to pinpoint recent calls from that number to acreage about five miles northeast of the practice facility.” Brody’s grin began to stretch. “The land belongs to an elderly woman in an assisted living facility, land is still used for livestock, but it’s run by a farm manager who did a stint in Huntsville.”

  “Anything else?”

  “Yeah. She did a satellite view search and there’s an outbuilding set in the middle of a small wooded area on the property that happened to be where Carrie pinpointed a cluster of phone calls. The dirt road leading in turns into pavement, and it’s wide enough for cargo trucks.”

  “We got ’em?” The delight on Brody’s face was near comical.

  I couldn’t help but return it. “Yeah, I think we’ve found the mill.”

  He plucked me off the step and spun me around while Mack and Jet danced around our feet. “Hot damn, darlin’!” Brody’s lips landed on mine, teasing the seam of my mouth open for a quick but intense kiss before he sat me back on my feet.

  “But,” I said, grabbing his
arm and dampening the moment. “With the break-in, taking that slip of paper? They may know we know, Brody.”

  “Which means they might close up shop. That’s not a bad thing.”

  “It’s not, but we need the people running the mill to be prosecuted and hopefully sent to jail. Puppy farming is lucrative, and this one is most certainly a cash business under the table. If they close up shop in one place, they’ll just pop up somewhere else.”

  I chewed the inside of my lip. “Think the pet store manager ratted you out?”

  “Possibly. If he did, these people know you have backup with pull and muscle, and they don’t give a damn.” Brody’s hands dropped to his hips. “Shit.” He spit the word, turned away to pick up Mack’s ball and nearly hurled it out of the yard.

  I pinched my nose. “We need to move fast. We don’t want to give them the chance to disappear.” I stooped to scratch Jet’s chest. “But with me calling the police because of the break-in, it complicates how fast we can go. I’d hoped we’d get proof of where they were and the condition the dogs are in, then call in the police. But I can’t give up how we got that information.”

  “Yeah, we can’t put Carrie at risk.” That line between his brows returned. The one that was always a dead giveaway that the gears were turning. “You said Officer Johnson was a dog lover, right?” Brody turned his eyes on me, and it struck me how absolutely breathtaking this man was.

  “He has a retired K-9 at home, and a rescued Pit mix. He even showed me pictures.”

  Brody brushed his hair back, rested his hands on his head. A move that should have been painful for someone who’d separated a shoulder. “What if we give him a day or two? If he comes back with nothing, we’ll go poke around.”

  “That was my thought, too. I just...” This was so incredibly frustrating. “I hate waiting at all when they could be hurting those dogs. Moving them, or...disposing of them.” I tried to keep the panic out of my eyes.

  Pulling me against his chest, he tipped my chin up. “I know you’re worried, but I think it’s the only play we’ve got. I’d say let’s sneak out and get the evidence we need tonight, but this whole break-in thing is too damn fresh for me. These people are probably on high alert. Besides, it will give me time to call the cop and tell him I’m your partner in the mill hunt. That’s no secret at least, and maybe it will help move things along.”

  I nodded absently. “I’m supposed to go stay with a friend or have them stay here with me. I can ask Olive.”

  “No. I want you with me. At my place.” A hardness crept into his tone, one I didn’t particularly like.

  “That’s not bright,” I snapped back. “Me coming and going from your apartment every day.”

  Brody arched his neck and took a deep breath. We were both having visceral responses to the strain.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to snap at you, but if I stay at your place, we’re more likely to be photographed. I feel safest with you, Shaw. But if it’s going to be you with me, you should stay here. Your pickup truck is a dime a dozen, but you can put it in my garage if you want. I’ll park in the drive.”

  I gestured to the end of the house, but he didn’t seem convinced. “Besides, I have a yard for the dogs and my neighbors know I kept CC for a friend. They won’t think anything of it.”

  “Yeah.” His voice sounded weary. “That makes more sense. I know you’re strong and capable of taking care of yourself. And all that. But the caveman in me needs you with me.”

  I nodded, remembering he had a doctor’s appointment. “What did the doctor say about your shoulder?”

  “Range of motion, strength, all that, looks good, but he wouldn’t tell me if he thought it was separated or not. Said to follow the team doctor’s orders.” His lips thinned. “The feeling I got was that he wasn’t going to step on anyone’s toes for me. I’ve got to see a PT guy today. How ’bout I bring some stuff over after that.”

  “I have classes this afternoon, anyway. I’m going to take care of those so nobody else has to cover for me.”

  I backed up on the step, using the front of his shirt to pull him to me. The way his lips curled, one dimple winking at me—he was all arrogance and swagger—but in the eyes is where I found my Brody. The tough guy with a soft heart and a gaze the color of molé that melted me faster than butter on a hot tortilla.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Where was Hayes when you needed him?

  At training camp.

  Brody

  It had been a fucking day. The break-in at Lily’s house had me unsettled. These scabby-dick-tip motherfuckers threating my girl and her dogs? I’d never felt that kind of anger before. Not even on the field.

  Shit was not sitting well, and I was walking a fine line with my temper as I headed into the Bulldogs practice facility for Devon to treat my shoulder. With a couple of players besides me injured, Dr. Douche had decided Devon would accompany us back to Dallas for treatment. Seemed odd to me. We had therapists who didn’t travel to Nebraska with us this year—one of which had been with the team a lot longer than Devon.

  While I stood in the hall outside the medical room waiting for my appointment, I checked the clock on my phone. Team should be taking lunch about now. It gave me a chance to hit up Hayes.

  “Hey man, how’s the shoulder?”

  “S’okay. I’m waiting on PT, but I’m fine. No residual pain past the forty-eight hours. How are you doing, old man? Getting the start against Miami?” The Sharks were our third preseason game.

  The sigh Hayes let out made him sound drained. “Hell, I don’t know. Same shit, different day around here.”

  “How’s Jensen doing in my spot?” Jensen Bishop was the rookie linebacker out of Miami who held it down when I got hurt last year. He’d played fifty percent of last week’s game while I’d continued to ride the bench for a fucked-up shoulder I didn’t have. Sonofabitch. I was proud of the kid. He was doing his job like the a pro he and he was a quick learner. None of this was Jensen’s fault. It was just the nature of the game.

  “Yeah, well, they’re not publicizing this, but he took a nasty hit during practice yesterday. It was just a bad tackle. Helmet to helmet. Kid’s definitely got a concussion. I heard him throwing up in the locker room. But Chase gave him the okay to start this week.”

  “That motherfucker. Dick’s just pulling Chase’s strings. Dick wills it, so shall it be. Swear to God he’s the dirtiest general manager in the league. And Chase needs an ass whooping, I’d be glad to give him.”

  “Get in line. Hey, how’s your girl?”

  I ran a hand over my face. “Yeah, someone broke into her house and left another threat, but thank fuck she wasn’t home.”

  “I meant the dog, but no shit? When was this?”

  “Last night.”

  “Where was she?” I could tell Hayes was choosing his words carefully and I appreciated it.

  “Guess.”

  “Ahh. You okay, man? You sound like you’re walking the edge. I mean, I would be too with everything.”

  He didn’t know the half of it. “Yep. Pretty much. Keep me posted on shit there, okay? If the quilting bee mentions my shoulder, or anything about the girl?”

  “The one suing you?”

  “The dog trainer. Something weird happened before I got sent home. I overheard some talk about her, and I can’t put the pieces together.”

  “Umm, okaaay.” I didn’t blame Hayes. I was confused, too.

  “We’ll talk when you get back.”

  As I let Hayes go, Darius—a senior team trainer—rounded the corner. “Shaw, you’re with me today.” He unlocked the room and I followed him in.

  “Where’s Devon?”

  Irritation darted across his face that was gone as fast as it came. “He had a family thing come up. So how is it?” Feet spread, arms crossed, he nodded at my shoulder. “You’re supposed to
be in an immobilizer. Where’s it at?” Darius’s tone was all business.

  “There’s nothing wrong with it. That’s not my ego talking, Darius. Something is shady here.”

  His focus shifted back to my shoulder. “Lift your arm straight out.”

  Fifteen minutes later he’d run me through much of the same routine Lily had. “You may be right. But I’m not a doctor.” Shaking his head, he looked like he wanted to say more but stopped himself.

  “Fuck.”

  “Yep. You certainly are. Look, man.” He readjusted his arms. “I didn’t say this, but they need you sidelined for Bishop to gain experience.”

  Dropping my head to stare at the floor, I just couldn’t figure it out. The pieces didn’t fit. “Why go through all this, Darius? Why not just bench me?”

  “I don’t know, my man. Your rehab with the dislocation was ahead of schedule, too. Were you benching the same weight you did before the dislocation?”

  I grunted. “More.”

  Darius harrumphed. “There’s nothing I can tell you that you don’t already know, except that if you think Dick Head and Adam Chase are scheming to keep you out...well, you’ve always had good instincts, bro.” He slapped me on the shoulder.

  * * *

  After I left the Bulldogs facility, I picked up CC, packed a duffel, and told Staci I would be gone a few days. Figuring Lily would be wiped out, I also did my damnedest to adjust my mood.

  She didn’t need one more thing to worry about.

  “Lucy, I’m home!” I called as I carried a bag from the Blue Goose through the back door.

  My girl wanted Mexican food.

  Standing in the kitchen with her cell to her ear, she waved me in.

  “H-hang on. Officer Johnson, my partner just showed up. If I put you on speaker, can you start again?”

  I hadn’t expected to hear from him so soon. Lily pulled the phone away from her ear, putting it on speaker as I set the food on the counter. “Ya got me, Ms. Costello?”