K-9 Recovery

by Danica Winters

  She had never completely understood why love had to be so hard. In the history of her relationships, love had never been easy. She had felt love before, but it was something that was so fleeting in her life. If anything, love was a weakness. And maybe that was why she didn’t want to talk about it, why they both wanted to push it away and simply focus on the task at hand.

  But if they were going to make a go of this thing between them and try and strive for a real relationship, then they needed to talk about the feelings and the weaknesses that came with them. Yet she wasn’t sure either of them was ready for that kind of thing. Like they had said, they had only known each other for a short time. In those limited days, love and lust had one hell of a way of looking like each other’s identical twins.

  After okaying exposing the location of their headquarters to him with Zoey, she pointed Grant in the direction of the Widow Maker Ranch. Sarge, the beloved black gelding who lived at the ranch, was running along the fence line as they made their way to the main house.

  Zoey’s office was offset from the house in a separate building not far from the stables. In the distance were a series of cabins and row houses. Leading to them was a dirt road, and at the end of it was a flatbed full of trusses, as if they were planning on building yet more cabins or houses.

  “I live back there,” she said, pointing to the cabin that sat second from the end closest to them. “It’s a two-bedroom with one bath, but it fits me perfectly. I was just glad to have my own cabin. A couple of my siblings have chosen to take rooms in the house instead of private cabins.” She didn’t know why she was telling him all the superfluous details, but she would do anything to make things comfortable between them.

  She had no idea why she was feeling so nervous with him—even with their hands intertwined and the acknowledgment that there were mutual feelings between them, she couldn’t make her nerves recede. Part of her wondered if it was because of the lingering feeling of his lips on her skin and how badly she wished to feel them again.

  “Zoey is probably over there,” she said, pointing at the office. “That’s our main headquarters. It’s where we take reports and have our meetings.”

  Grant nodded. “But not everyone who works with STEALTH is allowed to be present?”

  She shrugged. “No. The main team leaders are normally at most meetings, but folks like me—the grunts—are normally kept out. AJ or Zoey are normally the ones I get my information from.”

  He nodded and seemed far more at ease.

  They parked and made their way over to the ranch’s main office. The enormous room was newly constructed and still had the smell of fresh lumber, and it mixed with the ozone smell of the electronics that filled the main area. Zoey was sitting at the far end of the office and swiveled around in her chair as they walked inside. Her hair was purple today, and she had a fresh black tattoo on her neck. “Hey, guys, how’s it going?”

  Elle smiled. She’d always liked her boss; Zoey was the kind of woman who would not only take no crap from anyone, but she would also make sure that she protected all those around her. If Elle had a choice, she would be just like her when she grew up.

  She chuckled at the thought.

  “Sorry to bug you,” Elle said. “This is Sergeant Grant Anders. He works over at the sheriff’s office, and he is helping with the Clark case.”

  “Ah, I see.” The small smile on Zoey’s face disappeared, and she searched Elle’s face like she was wondering what she had told Grant.

  “He has some questions for you.”

  “Nice to meet you, Mrs.—”

  Zoey stood up and stuck out her hand. “Just call me Zoey. I’m not about the patriarchal crap. I may be married and a mom, but no one owns me. My husband and I are partners.”

  Grant shook her proffered hand. “Nice to meet you. I appreciate you seeing me.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest, and as she moved, Elle could make out new ink on the top of her breasts, as well. The woman was so cool. Elle had never been one for getting tattoos, but Zoey had her questioning her stalemate on skin art.

  “Most of the surveillance team is out for the day, but I should be able to get whatever it is you need,” Zoey said, motioning vaguely at the computer screens lining the walls.

  “That’s great. Right now, though, we were just out talking to one of the men Elle pointed out from the Clarks’ place before Catherine disappeared.” He glanced over at Elle. “He mentioned that he was working for STEALTH.”

  Zoey nodded, turning away and making her way back to her workstation at the far end of the windowless room. “What did you say his name was?”

  “Steve Rubbick. You heard of him?”

  “Hmm. I don’t know that name, but you know how it is. These guys could be working under any number of names.” Zoey kept her face turned away from them as she tapped away on the computer. “What did he look like?” Finally, she glanced over her shoulder at them.

  From the blank expression on Zoey’s face, Elle would have said that Zoey was telling the truth about not knowing the man.

  “He looks a bit like an extremist. Swastika right here on his neck,” Grant said, pointing to the base of his throat.

  “Ah,” Zoey said. “Well, I don’t have to search shit, then. While you can see I’m a fan of ink, I’m not about to hire anyone with gang tats or who are of a questionable moral character.” She turned to face them. “I’m proud to say that we only hire contractors who have exceeded our standards and perform at a high ethical level both personally and professionally. We don’t want to hire folks we have to monitor.”

  “Do you know a Philip Crenshaw?” Elle asked, thinking about the frat boy.

  “I don’t know the name. You have a picture?” Zoey asked.

  Grant pulled up a picture of the man from his phone and showed it to Zoey. Zoey choked out a thin laugh. “Yeah, now him...him, I know. He tried to get hired on with us. I handled his interview process. Couldn’t have recalled his name, though.”

  “But he doesn’t work for you, I take it?” Grant asked.

  Zoey pointed at him. “He had the credentials, but that man was a wild card. He’d had some things in his past that ran a little too far into the legal and ethical gray. I wasn’t there and couldn’t say if he was right or wrong in making the decisions he did in the heat of the moment, but let’s just say I wouldn’t have been pleased if he was working for us.”

  “Do you know where we could locate him?” Grant asked. “I couldn’t pull anything up about his last known whereabouts.”

  “I can see what I can find on him. I will probably have to use the facial recognition software. It may take me a while,” Zoey said, pointing at the screens. “You guys have a few hours to burn?”

  Elle wasn’t sure about what Grant had on his docket, but she hated the thought of not actively searching for Lily. Yet there was little they could physically do without more information—info that was at the mercy of Zoey’s tech skills.

  “We can hang out for a bit.” Grant nodded.

  Elle smiled. “I’ll just text you their pictures. Maybe you can see if you can pull up anything on Philip.”

  Grant looked over at Elle. “In the meantime, I’d love to take a look around your place.”

  That was the last thing she had expected Grant to say, and she could feel her cheeks burning at the thought of being alone with him in her house. At the same time, he hadn’t said anything even slightly suggestive.

  “Uh, yeah. I’d be happy to show you,” Elle said, walking toward the office door with Grant following close behind her.

  As they made their way outside, Zoey let out a belly laugh. “You guys have fun. I’ll text when I find something. I won’t come knocking.”

  Elle’s face burned. Yeah, Zoey definitely worked on a whole different wavelength than she did; she was far bolder.

  Their feet crunc
hed on the frozen snow as they made their way across the parking area and toward the row houses. Her arm brushed against her pocket, and she felt the familiar bump of a phone and realized she still had Catherine’s cell phone. “Wait.” She pulled the phone out of her pocket and showed it to Grant, then held up her finger, motioning for him to wait for her there. “I’ll bet she can make something out of this. I’ll be right back.”

  Though she had started to go through the phone, she had found little usable information. The woman had a million contacts and got more texts and phone calls than a retail pharmacy. Elle had gone through what she could in the time she’d had, but given just the volume of information held in the iPhone, it could have taken her days to find anything—let alone anything that would point them toward the killer or Lily.

  Zoey was already tapping away when she made her way back into the office. “’Sup? You guys done already? Girl, you work fast.” She sent Elle a devious smile.

  “We aren’t that kind of friends,” Elle said, but the burn returned to her cheeks. Just because they weren’t those kinds of friends yet didn’t mean that she didn’t want to see him naked and underneath her.

  “Yeah, right.” Zoey laughed. “You do know I’m in intelligence, right? Even if I wasn’t, I can see the way the two of you look at each other. Remind me not to put you into an undercover role. You can’t lie for shit.”

  “You’ve put me in all kinds of undercover roles. I did great.” She stuck her tongue out at Zoey.

  “True as that may be, you can’t lie to me about that man,” Zoey teased. “Is there something you needed?”

  “I forgot,” she said with a nod, holding up the bagged phone for Zoey to see. “Here’s Catherine’s phone. I wrote the unlock code there on the bag.” She handed over the phone, pointing at the numbers scrawled in black Sharpie.

  “Sweet. I can definitely use this.” Zoey gave her a wide smile. “In the meantime, seriously, go and have some fun.”

  Zoey stood up and shooed her out of the office, but as Elle took one more look back at the computers, she saw Philip’s face staring out at her from the screen. His eyes were dark and brooding, far from the jovial man she had last seen smoking a cigar while laughing with Catherine. The man staring out at her looked like a true, cold-blooded killer.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The little cabin was even smaller on the inside than it appeared on the outside, and Grant could understand why several of Elle’s siblings had chosen to take rooms in the main house over these tiny dwellings. It was smart of the STEALTH company to keep their contractors on-site, especially given the nature of their work and the security risks.

  Elle’s hands were trembling as she pressed the numbers and unlocked the door. He wanted to tell her not to be nervous, that he didn’t have anything less than completely honorable intentions on his mind. Yet he was as nervous as she was, and, well, the rest would have been a lie. He had wanted to press her down and make love to her from the moment their hands had touched. But he wouldn’t pressure her for anything. If she wanted to be with him, she could lead the show.

  Then, she didn’t really seem like an aggressive kind of woman. He doubted she would take the lead and make the first moves.

  She opened the door and flipped on the lights as Daisy came barreling down the hallway toward them. “Daisy girl!” she said, clearly as happy to see the dog as the dog was to see her.

  Daisy dropped down and rolled over in front of them, her tail wagging so hard that her whole entire butt moved right and left on the vinyl flooring. Elle squatted down and loved on the animal as he chuckled. There was nothing sexier than a woman playing with and loving on her dog.

  Daisy stood up and finally seemed to notice him; she lunged toward him and rubbed herself around his legs, almost catlike in her excitement. He was slightly taken aback by the dog’s warm reaction to his being there, but they had spent a night together taking care of Elle. “Hi, Daisy,” he said, squatting down and giving the dog a vigorous scratch behind the ears. “I missed ya, pupper dog.”

  He caught Elle smiling out of the corner of his eye.

  Daisy gave him a big, slobbering kiss to the side of his cheek. Daisy’s breath smelled like dog food.

  “Oh,” Elle said, covering her mouth with her hands. “She’s not much of a licker. Sorry about that. If it makes you feel better, she is the ranch dog who is the least addicted to eating horse manure.”

  “I’m glad.” He laughed, but as Elle must have realized what she said, her face turned crimson.

  “I, uh...” She ran her hand down the back of her neck and looked toward the main living area. “Obviously, I don’t have people out to my place very often. I’m sorry if it’s a mess. In fact, I can’t say that anyone other than my family has been here.” She cringed as she looked at her couch, where a basket full of folded laundry sat ready to be put away.

  “Your place is cleaner than mine,” he said. “I get two days off a week, and I have to say that I don’t really enjoy spending my downtime doing chores. I can’t even tell you the last time I mopped a floor. Don’t feel bad.”

  “With Daisy around, if I didn’t mop the place, it would be covered in muddy paw prints.” She let Daisy outside. The dog bounded away, and Elle looked about, making sure she was safe, then closed the door. “She should be good outside for a little while. She sticks around. Want a drink or something?” She rushed away from him toward the kitchen, as if being close to him was making her even more nervous than she had first seemed when they arrived.

  He followed her toward the kitchen. “I’d take some water, but I can get it.” He wasn’t sure who was more on edge, her or him. It was as if all the feelings he’d been having for her had culminated into this single moment and he couldn’t quite sift through them all.

  He walked to the small cabinet by the sink and grabbed a glass out of the cupboard, but before he could fill it with water, he turned around toward her and put the glass down on the counter. “Are you sure you are okay with my being here? We could just go back to my truck or—”

  She moved toward him and threw her arms around his neck, and her lips pressed against his. For a second, he couldn’t quite make sense of what was happening, but then he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her body against his as he kissed her back. She nibbled at his lower lip, and her tongue flicked against his.

  He hadn’t pegged her as the dominant type, but he had never been more excited to be wrong. She leaned into him, and though he couldn’t tell, it felt like she was even lifting her leg as she tiptoed to kiss him. He slid his hands down from her back and took her ass into his hands. It felt even better in his palms than he thought it would. She had to work out, but not so much that there wasn’t the softness that he loved on a woman.

  She was the perfect combination of soft and toned, feminine but strong.

  He laced his lips down her neck, and her breath caressed his skin in a moan. His body awakened at the sound. He could listen to that sound, the weak moan of a woman in want, forever. His lips found the base of her throat, and he traced his tongue along the hard edges of the little V-shape. She sucked in her breath and held it.

  He stopped, taking a moment to look at her. Her eyes were the color of the sky in the middle of a storm, promising a temporary break for the sunshine. “You are so damned beautiful. You know that, don’t you?”

  She tried to avoid his gaze, but he drew her back with his finger until she was staring at him again. “Don’t look away. You don’t need to. I want to look at you, all of you.” Her gaze drifted to his chest, but he didn’t know exactly what she was thinking. “If you’re not ready for this, or if you are rethinking things with me, don’t worry, you can tell me. We can stop this right here and now. We can just go back to being friends.”

  Elle reached up and took his hands in hers and finally looked up into his eyes. “No. That’s not it. I want you. I want this. I wan
t to do things with you that I’ve never done with anyone else. I just...”

  “You don’t feel it?”

  She frowned. “What? No.”

  “Then what is bothering you?” He kissed her hands but kept looking into her eyes.

  “I haven’t had sex in a long time. I just don’t want to be bad.” Her hand tensed in his.

  He started to laugh but checked himself as she began to pull away. “No, don’t go. I didn’t mean to laugh. You surprised me, that’s all. I thought you didn’t want me—I didn’t even think you could possibly be feeling insecure about anything. You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known.”

  “You don’t need to lie to me. I know I’m not ugly or anything, but I’m hardly anything special.” She looked away again.

  He leaned in close and whispered into her ear, “You are something incredibly special to me.” He kissed the top of her ear ever so gently. “And I am not concerned about how you are in bed. I think that as long as we are together and we talk, we can be amazing together. You just have to talk to me. Okay?”

  She looked up at him and smiled, and there was a new light in her eyes. “It’s funny, you telling me that, when that’s all I’ve wanted from you from the very beginning.”

  “We both have a lot to learn. I will never be perfect—”

  “And you know I’m not,” she said, giggling.

  “You are much closer than I am, but regardless, we can be imperfect together.” He kissed her forehead and ran his hands through her hair, pushing it behind her ears and cupping her face. “Well, you can be perfect and I can try to keep up.” He kissed her lips gently. “And I promise I will try to talk to you, to tell you what I’m thinking.”

  She reached up and unbuttoned the top of his shirt. “Right now, all I’m thinking about is how badly I’ve wanted you.”

  He smiled wildly. “What do you want me to do to you?”

  She looked at him with wide eyes, leaning back in mock surprise. A cute smirk took over her lips. “Take off your shirt.” She let go of him and stepped back.