of this adversity was part of God’s plan.
There was no plan. Wasn’t she living proof of that?
“Eva? Are you ready to go? Joey, our sketch artist, will meet us there.”
She realized Finn and his yellow Lab, Abernathy, were hovering near the main entrance, waiting for her. She shook off her depressing thoughts and moved toward him.
She wasn’t blind yet. She cleared her throat. “How far away is the K-9 headquarters?”
“In Jackson Heights. Don’t worry, I can drive you home afterward.” Finn held the door open, and in the bright sunlight she was able to see him more clearly. Earlier, she’d been too worried about Cocoa to notice, but now she could see just how broad Finn’s shoulders were and how handsome he was. His dark brown hair was longer than most cops she knew generally wore it, a lock falling over his forehead and his green eyes were incredible. There was a tiny part of her that wanted to take the time to memorize his features so she could picture him in her mind’s eye forever, but she gave herself a mental shake.
A relationship was out of the question. In a few years she’d be deemed legally blind. Her diagnosis was such that her field of vision would narrow over the next few years, until she could only see through a small circle. She’d already accepted the fact that she’d spend the rest of her life alone. At least she had her nephew, Mikey, to help care for. And the dogs she trained were also important to her.
She didn’t need anyone else.
“Where do you live?” Finn asked.
“Not far. I don’t need a ride home, but maybe you could bring me back here to the training center. I live a short subway ride away.”
“We’ll see,” Finn said, his tone noncommittal. She sensed he wasn’t the type to take no for an answer, but she didn’t need his help.
Remaining independent was very important to her. No way was she going to start leaning on a man now. The more she took the same route to and from work, the better she’d be able to navigate once her eyesight vanished for good. Granted, she’d have a guide dog of her own by then, but still it was important to establish a routine so she could continue to work. Who better to train guide dogs than a blind woman?
Finn opened the back of the police SUV so Abernathy could get into the back. Then he came around and opened the passenger-side door for her.
“Thanks,” she said, sliding inside.
“Not a problem.” Finn closed the door behind her, and instantly she became aware of the musky scent of his aftershave, which seemed to permeate the interior of the vehicle.
“You mentioned your sister passed away three weeks ago. What happened?”
The change of subject was odd, but she sensed he was making small talk. “Malina was hit by a car and killed on impact. It’s been a difficult time for all of us—her husband, Pete, and their little boy, Mikey.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” Finn paused, then asked, “Did your sister have a job?”
“She worked with me at the training center for a while as the receptionist slash part-time bookkeeper, but then decided it was too hard to juggle her responsibilities there while caring for her son.” Eva didn’t add that Malina suffered from the same disorder she did, retinitis pigmentosa. Her sister was three years her senior and in the months before her death, Malina’s eyesight had begun to rapidly deteriorate.
“I see. And how old is Mikey?”
“Three and a half.” She glanced over at Finn, sensing there was more to these questions than mere curiosity. “Why do you ask?”
“No reason.” Finn grinned and, ironically, the softening of his features made him all the more appealing. “Sorry I was playing twenty questions. As a cop, it’s my nature to be nosy.”
“Occupational hazard, huh?”
“Yep.” Finn expertly navigated the busy Queens traffic as he drove to the K-9 headquarters. Eva paid attention to the streets they passed to familiarize herself with the area.
“I really appreciate you taking the time to do this, Eva.”
She did her best to smile, hoping it didn’t look too forced. “I want to find the man who took Cocoa as much as anyone.”
“How’s the cheek?”
“I’ll live.” Truth was, her face was tender and sore to the touch, but not bad enough that she needed medical care.
Finn drove until he found a parking spot in the tiny lot adjacent to the building. She climbed out of the white SUV while he released Abernathy from the back. With Abernathy between them, she followed him through the double glass doors that led into the main lobby area. Finn punched in the code that allowed them access so they could go inside.
A woman in uniform sat behind a large U-shaped desk wearing a headset. She appeared calm despite the never-ending ringing of the phone.
Finn waved at the officer, who handed a visitor badge to him while still talking on the phone. He clipped it to Eva’s collar, then led the way inside. The interior of the police station smelled like old coffee, animal hair and the faint odor of gun oil. There were cubicles separating the desks, but she could still hear cops talking at the same time, some on the phone, some to each other. The din made it difficult to hear specific conversations, and the entire place seemed to be one of perpetual chaos.
“Is Joey Calderone around?” Finn asked the officer closest to him. “He’s supposed to meet us here.”
“I’m here.” A man about her age came over. He also had a visitor badge clipped to his collar. “What’s going on?”
“Joey, this is Eva Kendall, and she saw the man who dognapped one of Stella’s puppies.”
Joey, a man who was as short as he was wide, looked horrified. “That’s awful. Why would anyone steal a puppy?”
“No clue, but I intend to ask when I find him.” Finn’s jovial tone held an underlying note of steel. “Have a seat, Eva. Joey is a master at getting sketches done from witnesses just like you. This shouldn’t take too long.”
Eva sat down in the uncomfortable plastic chair, thinking that Joey hadn’t ever had to work with someone with such limited vision as hers. Still, she was determined to give this her best shot.
The questions started out easy, the shape of his face, his build. Eva relaxed as the drawing materialized in front of her. But when it came down to identifying details like the shape of his eyes, his nose and his mouth, helplessness washed over her.
“I’m sorry, but I don’t remember.” She sensed Joey’s frustration, but he kept his tone light and easy.
“It’s okay. Just close your eyes for a moment, see if anything comes back to you.”
She closed her eyes, forcing herself to remember the brief flashes she’d got of the attacker’s face. After several long moments, she opened her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she repeated. “But other than a unibrow over his eyes and the five-o’clock shadow, I can’t tell you anything more specific.”
