pulled away and went to the door whining, his attention focused on something near the boathouse, something Ruben couldn’t see. He could only hope it wasn’t a skunk. He hadn’t seen one around here in some time, but one never knew up here. It could also be a black bear or a mountain lion.
Yukon whined again and nudged at the door and Ruben finally rose from the sofa and slipped his feet into the boots he kept by the back door. If the dog needed to go out, Ruben had to let him but he couldn’t send him out alone if there might be a potential threat out there.
He pulled on his jacket and grabbed the dog’s leash. Ollie trotted over, always ready for some fun, and Ruben had to shake his head at the little dog. “Not you. You’ve got to stay inside and watch the house while we do a little recon.”
Ollie gave what sounded like a resigned sigh and plopped down on the rug to watch as Ruben clipped the leash on Yukon.
“All right, bud. Let’s go see what’s happening.”
The night was cold, mostly clear, with only a few random clouds passing in front of the big moon that hovered just above the mountains. It was the kind of December night meant to be spent by the fire with a special someone.
Too bad he didn’t have a special someone.
It had been almost a year since he had dated anyone remotely seriously, and that had been with a teacher in Shelter Springs.
He had met Lindsey while giving a self-defense class organized by Wynona Emmett, sister to his boss and close friend, Marshall Bailey. She had been sweet and warm and kind, but she also had been still in love with her ex-husband, something it had taken both of them six months of dating to fully acknowledge.
Ruben sighed. He missed Lindsey but he really missed hanging out with her kids, two cute little boys just a little older than Dani Capelli’s youngest girl.
He supposed that spoke volumes about their relationship. His heart hadn’t been committed yet, but he had definitely seen things moving in that direction eventually.
At least they hadn’t gotten far enough for the situation to turn ugly, like it did for his brother Mateo, who was in the middle of a nasty court battle for visitation with the stepson he had raised from a baby.
Next time he decided to let his heart get involved, Ruben had vowed it would be with a woman who didn’t have children. The only trouble with that philosophy was that he was getting older and so were the women who interested him. He had outgrown his attraction to dewy, fresh-eyed coeds when he was in his twenties. He liked a woman who had been around the block a time or two and had the wisdom and experience to prove it.
Someone like Daniela Capelli, for instance.
He glanced next door, toward her house. The lights were on and he thought he saw someone moving around inside.
He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the woman since he’d left the veterinary clinic earlier in the week. He was no closer to solving the mystery of her, though.
Too bad she had kids—a younger one who seemed afraid of him and an older one who treated him like he had a bad case of head lice every time she saw him.
Yukon whined and pulled in the direction of the boathouse again, which was really just a covered concrete slab where he kept his shiny new cabin cruiser, aptly named The Wonder.
Ruben could swear he heard whispers drifting to him on the wind. Was someone there?
Suddenly Yukon’s whine turned to a bark and the whispers turned to shouts. Someone yelled, “Run,” at the same moment the dog lunged away from Ruben and the leash slipped out of his hand.
He reached for it, but Yukon moved with single-minded speed toward the boathouse, barking away.
Surprised at the unusual behavior from his normally obedient dog, Ruben raced after him. He ordered the dog in Dutch—the language he was trained in—to stay. After only a moment’s hesitation, Yukon reluctantly obeyed, too well trained to do otherwise.
“Good boy.”
Ruben could hear rustling in the bushes around the boathouse as he drew closer.
“Whoever you are,” he called out, “you’re going to want to not move. My dog is trained to attack on command. I just have to say the word.”
He heard a small sound of distress and aimed his flashlight in the direction of the dog, who had alerted onto a shape crouched close to the ground. The dog wasn’t growling. In fact, his tail might even have been wagging, though it was too dark to be sure.
“I should also tell you, I’m a deputy sheriff and I’m armed.”
He didn’t add that he was armed with only a flashlight and can of bear spray. The intruder didn’t need that much information.
“Don’t shoot me. Please don’t shoot me.” The voice was high-pitched and sounded terrified. Either it was only a kid or Ruben and Yukon had scared the cojones off somebody.
“Come on out from there. I won’t hurt you. Neither will Yukon, as long as you don’t make any sudden movements.”
“Can you take his leash? Just in case?”
The voice struck a chord. He’d heard it before, and not that long ago. He tried to place it as he stepped forward to grab Yukon’s leash, speaking in Dutch again to order the dog to stay.
“I have the leash but that probably won’t help you. I was holding it earlier but he got away from me when he caught your scent.”
He sensed the dog wasn’t being predatory, he only wanted to play, but the intruder couldn’t know that.
“Come on out.”
After a long moment, the trespasser slowly rose from the ground, appearing ready to bolt at any moment. Ruben moved into position to block any escape route, and aimed his flashlight at the figure, clothed in a dark coat with the hood up.
Shock rippled through him. “Silver? Silver Capelli? What are you doing here?”
Of all the miscreants in town who might have it out for him—and it was impossible to avoid making a few enemies here and there in his line of work—he never would have pinpointed Dani’s older daughter as someone who might trespass on his property.
“Um. Just taking a walk. That’s all. I just wanted to, uh, see the water, then your dog scared me and I freaked. I’ll, uh, just be going now.”
Did she really think he was that stupid? Her house was next to his. If she wanted to see the water, she only had to walk into her own backyard, not scale the fence to come into his.
“Hold on a second.”
His flashlight gleamed on something metallic in the grass. He nudged it with his foot and saw it was a spray can. With a sinking suspicion, he turned the flashlight onto his new boat. Across the hull in glaring red letters he saw “Fascist Pi” written in two-foot-tall letters.
Either she had a thing against math equations or she hadn’t had time to finish writing an inflammatory slur against police officers.
“Wow.
