held tight to his partner Tommy’s leash and scanned the crowd, his mind on high alert, his whole body tense as he tried to protect the city he loved. People from all over the world stood shoulder to shoulder along the East River, waiting for the annual Fourth of July fireworks display. This New York tradition held a lot of challenges. He searched again in the park and along the riverfront on the Lower East Side of Manhattan.
The upbeat crowd grew more rowdy as the late afternoon sunshine began to slowly descend beyond the Manhattan skyscrapers to the west. Even with the patriotic excitement of the crowd, anything could go wrong. The setting sun hit asphalt and concrete with a laser-like heat while the merging of people seemed to crush in on all sides.
The smell of someone’s perfume wafted up and out over the trees to mingle with the scents of cotton candy, street food and that other unique smell of sweaty humans having too much fun.
His partner, a black-and-white springer spaniel, knew the drill. Tommy worked bomb detection. People were always surprised that a springer could be so focused and sharp. Tommy had been trained to find incendiary devices. Period. End of discussion. His quiet, steady work didn’t require barking or bringing attention to himself. He knew to sniff the air and the ground. Sniff, sit, repeat. Be rewarded. But Gavin didn’t have to get defensive about his partner. Tommy lived for bomb detection, play toys and rewards.
Lately, Gavin had been the one who needed defending. He’d worked hard all of his life and done things by the book and yet a few choice words during a time of chaos and grief had put a target on his back. As a member of the NYC K-9 Command Unit, based in Queens, he took his job seriously and he’d like to keep it.
Pushing aside the bitterness he’d tried to shed over the last few months, Gavin studied the immediate crowd. A woman with a curly-haired baby laughing at the man by her side. A kid in a Yankees baseball cap tossing a soccer ball in the air, his expression bored. A man wearing a plaid cap carrying a dark backpack. Two young girls in jeans and flag-embossed shirts shoving through the crowd to get the perfect selfie with the backdrop of the city.
Tommy held his head up and sniffed. Too many scents. “It’s okay, boy. You’re doing great.”
Glancing up, Gavin spotted his backup, K-9 Officer Brianne Hayes, a rookie who had been paired with him to continue gaining experience. Her K-9 graduation ceremony should have taken place in the spring but had been postponed due to a tragic event that had rocked the entire K-9 Unit.
Back in April, their chief, Jordan Jameson, had been found dead under strange circumstances. He’d been murdered, but the death had been staged to look like a suicide. His administrative assistant, Sophie Walters, had discovered a suicide note, supposedly from Jordan, the morning of the scheduled graduation. Soon after, his body had been found. But they all knew Jordy had not committed suicide. The whole department was on a mission to find out who’d killed him. But a few key officers were not on the case. Jordan had three brothers in the K-9 Unit, and though they were naturally more driven than anyone to find the killer, the Jamesons had been assigned to other cases to avoid conflicts of interest.
No one had forgotten how Gavin had complained about being passed over as chief when the position had been given to Jordan. He and Jordan went way back but they hadn’t been close in years. Differences in style going back to their days in training at the Police Academy. Ancient history, but Gavin had learned the hard way not to air his grievances—not with so many Jamesons around to remember every angry word he’d uttered about losing out on the promotion.
They’d both graduated and become police officers. Jordan had gotten married to a good woman who was now pregnant and a widow. Gavin had worked with him, practically side by side, and watched him prosper but had always wondered why Jordan managed to stay one step ahead of him. Now Jordan was dead. Gavin’s resentment seemed silly and frivolous. The guilt of that ate at him.
When Jordan became chief, Gavin voiced that resentment. Just another thing between them. Then, shortly after his death, Jordan’s position had been given to his brother, Noah Jameson. Gavin had complained again, blurting out his feelings without even thinking. So much for not airing his grievances. After that, Jordan’s brothers and the department had unofficially deemed him a person-of-interest in Jordy’s death. Unbelievable. He’d been easily cleared—he’d been on duty working a big fund-raising event in Manhattan the night before Jordan had disappeared and his roommate had verified he was home the next morning when Jordan went missing on a jog—but things might not ever be the same.
“Hey, Sutherland, want a bottled water?” Brianne asked.
“Sure, Hayes. Bring it.”
Gavin tamped down his resentment about not being promoted, then said a prayer for patience and acceptance. He had to take the high road on this and see things through by helping to find the real killer. He might not have been Jordy’s buddy like in the old days, but he sure hadn’t killed the man. Now he worked twice as hard as anyone in the department to show his worth. So here he stood on a national holiday, hot, tired and wishing he was out on a boat somewhere.
Brianne headed toward him, her auburn hair caught up in a severe bun. He’d noticed her hair when she’d had it down. Straight and sweeping her shoulders in a soft sheen of deep red. That fire-colored hair matched her fierce determination to prove herself since she was one of only a few female K-9 officers in the city that never slept.
Brianne’s partner, Stella, was also in training with the K-9 handlers. The gentle yellow Lab had been pregnant a few months ago when she’d arrived in New York, a gift from the Czech Republic. She’d given birth to eight puppies that had all been farmed out to various officers and their families for socialization and possible future training as either K-9s or service dogs.
Brianne had taken on the job of training Stella in the basics, hoping to someday use her in bomb detection. They’d already started practicing—sniffing explosives, getting a treat and then doing it all over again. Once the dog learned she’d be rewarded for finding that particular scent, they’d move on from sit–stay–pay training to seek–find–reward. Stella now trained at the center and soon she’d be training doing the same thing Tommy specialized in—searching out bombs. Brianne had a way with animals from what he’d heard. Her smile had a way of calming him, Gavin had to admit.
“Thanks,” he said now as she handed him the ice-cold water, her lips pursed in professional determination.
“I’ve been along the perimeters of the park,” she said, her golden-brown eyes moving over a thousand faces, her heart-shaped face glowing with a sheen of perspiration. “Nothing out of the ordinary. Hot and humid and crowded. Can’t wait for the show.”
Gavin smiled at the droll sarcasm and gulped down half the water. Then he poured some in his hand for Tommy to drink. The spaniel lapped it up and wagged his tail. Brianne had already done the same with Stella.
Scanning the area again, he said, “I think the crowd grows every year. Standing-room only tonight.”
Brianne wiped a hand across her brow. “Stella keeps fidgeting and sniffing. She needs to get used to this.”
“Give her time. She’s a rookie like you.”
Brianne gave him a mock frown. “And you got stuck with me today.”
He didn’t mind that but he grinned and played along. “I drew the short straw.”
Or at least it felt that way at times, but not today. He’d had a thing for Brianne Hayes since he’d noticed her on her first day of K-9 training. But he’d never acted on his feelings because they worked together and because this job demanded
