Search And Rescue. Valerie Hansen
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Dear Reader
Sophie Williams faced Desert Valley’s new police chief, Ryder Hayes, with a smile, hoping he wouldn’t ask what she was up to and object before she had a chance to convince him she was acting for his benefit.
Anybody would be tense about taking over as chief after Earl Jones finally retired, but Ryder had received a double whammy. He’d discovered that he’d been working beside his late wife’s murderer, and the killer of others, for over five years. Former police department secretary Carrie Dunleavy had fooled everyone and had disappeared weeks ago, just as Ryder and his team had discovered she was the killer they’d been after for months. The whole town was unbelievably on edge. No wonder the new chief had been a tad short-tempered lately.
“I’m going to make a quick run to town and back,” Sophie told him, noting his scowl in response.
“Be careful. You may have been a cop once,” Ryder said, “but you’re a dog trainer now.”
That was a low blow. Sophie clenched her jaw while the chief brushed a speck of lint off his dark blue uniform and continued as if clueless. “We all have to be on guard,” he said. “There’s no telling where Carrie is or whether she’s through killing people. There’s nothing normal about Carrie. I have a feeling she’s sticking close to town, watching us.”
Given the shrine to Ryder that had been found in Carrie’s home, Sophie had to agree. Carrie was in love with Ryder, had killed his wife, had killed two rookie K-9 officers who were like stand-ins for him. Why she’d murdered Sophie’s predecessor, lead dog trainer Veronica Earnshaw or had attacked prominent resident Marian Foxcroft, no one knew yet. Until Ryder and his rookies had answers, until Carrie was behind bars, everyone had to be careful. Sophie nodded. “I’ll keep my eyes open.” She tossed back her shoulder-length blond hair and faced him with a determined look.
He arched a brow. “Are you carrying?”
“Of course.” She patted a flat holster clipped inside the waist of her jeans and further hidden by her blue T-shirt. “I won’t be out and about for long. I’m going to the train station to pick up a dog.”
“Why didn’t you say so in the first place?”
“Because I wanted to surprise you.”
She watched Ryder stroke the broad head of the old yellow Labrador retriever at his feet. The Desert Valley K-9 training center hadn’t been running regular sessions since the last rookie class had been temporarily assigned to help in the investigation of the murders and attacks they now knew Carrie had committed. Therefore, Ryder was highly likely to suspect Sophie was picking up a potential replacement dog for him.
“I don’t appreciate that kind of surprise,” he said.
Sophie rebuked him gently. “Look. Poor old Titus is more than ready for retirement. We both know that. And your little girl will love having him as a full-time pet. It’s not as if you’re abandoning him.”
Ryder passed his hand over his short, honey-colored hair, clearly frustrated. “Lily already plays with Titus every night when I go home. He and I are a team. It’s as if he can read my mind. This is not the right time to trade him for a newer model.”
“Maybe it isn’t for you,” Sophie said. “But what about what’s best for your dog? We both know he’d keep going until he dropped in his tracks because he’s so dedicated. Is that what you want?”
“Of course not.”
“Then trust me.” She began to grin as she headed for the door. “The paperwork’s all taken care of. I’ll be back in a flash.”
She was still smiling a few minutes later when she parked at the small railroad station and climbed out of her official K-9 SUV.
Dry August heat hit her in a smothering wave. Thankfully, the scheduled train was already there so she wouldn’t have to stand on the outdoor platform for long.
Sophie was always eager to get a new dog but it was not normal for her to feel this nervous. That was the chief’s fault. He’d planted seeds of apprehension when he’d suggested that Carrie might still be in the vicinity, and that possibility kept Sophie from fully enjoying herself.
A sparse crowd was beginning to disembark as she approached. She shaded her eyes. There! A slim, young police cadet had stepped down and turned, tugging on a leash. The welcome sight brightened her mood. Grinning, she offered her hand to the courier. “Hello! I’ve been expecting you. I’m Sophie Williams.”
“This is Phoenix,” the young man said, indicating the silver, black and white Australian shepherd cowering at his feet. “I hope you have better success with him than we did.”
“I’ve read his file.” She let her free hand drop in front of the medium-size dog, ignoring him as he sniffed her fingers. As soon as the three-year-old canine began to visibly relax, she said, “You can pass me the leash now.”
“I don’t know, ma’am. He’s pretty skittish. You sure you don’t want me to walk him over to your car and crate him for you?”
“That’s the last thing I want,” Sophie said. “Did he give you trouble on the train?”
“Not to speak of. I kept a good tight hold. He mostly just sat on my feet and shook a lot.”
She grasped the end of the leash, gave it slack and took several steps back before asking. “Is he shaking now?”