but about what caused it. The question remains, why did these ‘accidents’ happen?”
Casey had no idea, but with Graham’s mention of the attacks, she felt another emotion. The anger felt welcome, fresh and cleansing. “I may be afraid, but I’ll never see the people I love again. I’ll never run through a field. I can’t even play Frisbee with this dog. And one day ago my home was invaded, Graham. Do you know how that felt?” She wrapped her arms around herself. “Like a violation. Well, I’ve had enough. I’m going to find out who’s responsible.”
“Not by yourself, you’re not.”
“I suppose that’s true,” she admitted. “Did the police find any prints here last night?”
Graham had called some law enforcement contact of his, which in itself came as a surprise to Casey. He was full of them. The woman who showed up had been efficient, collecting samples, vacuuming the carpet for trace evidence, and slipping her other rare finds into little bags while Casey wondered how Graham knew such people.
“They’re still working on the fingerprints. She lifted a partial but it could be another of your prints, mine, Anton’s…” He hesitated. “And what about Rafe Valera?”
Casey frowned. “I doubt it. He’s only been in my apartment once or twice.”
“That’s enough.” She could sense the same scowl on Graham’s face. “He raises the hairs on the back of my neck. With very little provocation he showed up here yesterday waving a gun. A big gun. He looked like he knew how to use it.”
“He only wanted to protect me.”
“Did he?” Obviously, Graham wasn’t that sure. “I know you and the old guy have become close. Anton makes a great father surrogate, but his son is another matter. Casey, be careful. I think he’s dangerous. Until I ask around about Rafe Valera, it may be wiser to avoid him.”
“You can’t think Rafe had anything to do with the break-in here, or my experience in the revolving door?” She wouldn’t even think about the hit-and-run.
“How well do you really know either of the Valeras?”
“Not that well but—”
“Then just be careful,” he repeated. “Some extra caution wouldn’t hurt, Casey. I want you protected. I don’t want you living alone. Until we figure this out, Willy can help minimize the danger.” Probably to distract her, he returned to their earlier discussion. “He can help you adjust to your condition in lots of ways.” Graham paused. “And—quid pro quo—you’ll be helping him.”
As if to confirm that, Willy wiggled closer, and Casey’s hand bumped against warm, silky fur. In spite of her earlier concerns, she stroked him—and felt a strange feeling wash through her. She wasn’t alone. Casey almost welcomed the subject of the dog’s welfare.
“Me? Help him? How?” she asked. “He’s the one who can see where he’s going. You just said—”
“He had the same owner for six years until the guy passed away a month ago. William is now eight years old. If he doesn’t find a new home soon, he’s going to be in serious trouble.”
That struck a chord with Casey, as Graham knew it would. After her parents died when Casey was five, she’d been juggled from one relative to another, never quite belonging anywhere. For a while, in Graham’s arms, she had hoped…but that hope had died. Casey petted Willy’s fur but felt she was stroking Graham’s skin instead. She pulled her hand back.
Her heart lurched. You poor thing. They were two of a kind. Again, she reached out a comforting hand. A wet nose met her palm and Willy licked her, twice. “Not fair, Graham. You know I’m a sucker for animals.”
“He’s grinning,” Graham said in a coaxing tone that went straight through her like a caress. “He likes you.”
“This is fighting dirty. You know that, don’t you?”
“He has great eyes,” Graham murmured. “Dark, liquid—” Like Graham’s, she thought. “Full of trust,” he added, which shattered the illusion. Trust didn’t come easily to Casey, especially where Graham was concerned. “He’s got a hundred-yard stare. Just the thing you need for protection.”
Willy seemed to know that, too. With another grunt he lumbered to his feet, then laid his head in her lap.
Graham knew he had her. He’d be wearing his own, surprising grin now, the one that shot her defenses every time. Casey ran both hands over Willy’s silken ears, feeling the tufts of hair, then smoothing his bony forehead. She could feel him gazing at her, hoping. Perhaps even, if dogs were so inclined, praying.
Graham closed in for the…kill. “He always wears this goofy grin unless he’s really concentrating on the job. Then, kind of like me, I swear he frowns. He has terrific hearing, and even better instincts. By tomorrow, you’re gonna thank me, Case.”
But, as he well knew, she was hooked. With his head in her lap, Sweet William had won her heart. Just like Graham, the first minute she saw him. Tall, dark and dangerous, she’d thought then, losing herself in his smoldering eyes anyway.
But Graham, she had learned, posed little threat. He was normally as steady as a concrete pillar. He never took unnecessary risks, except with his driving. Hearthline relied on him to handle government paperwork with more dedication than he’d shown for their marriage. Casey supposed the only true danger he posed was to her own still-hurting heart.
Be careful.
Maybe until she found the reason for the attacks on her, Willy could help allay her fears.
“You won’t have to wait.” Feeling her way, she stroked Willy’s broad back then planted a kiss on the top of his head. She could all but hear his tongue lolling in delight. “Like your new home, pal?” Casey lifted her sightless gaze in Graham’s direction. “I’m already in love. You rat…thank you.”
“HOW DID SHE TAKE IT?”
Slow to answer, Graham watched Jackie Miles lean back in her seat across from him and grin. He didn’t smile back. Even after chewing Jackie out about the training exercise yesterday, he still felt edgy. He could see Casey last night, looking pale, could feel her in his arms at the doctor’s building beforehand. He could see her melting over Willy earlier that day, yet trying to hide her fears.
“How do you think?” he said.
Her grin widened. “She kept him, though. Right?”
“Right.”
Jackie ran her fingers through her short red hair. “So why the frown, tough guy? Casey has a dog to help her. And Willy has a place to live—literally.”
Graham lifted his eyebrows. In frustration, he tapped a pen against the edge of the table. They were alone in the booth of a small diner not far from Casey’s apartment, and were the only customers in the place, yet he could feel danger in the air.
“Watch it,” Graham murmured. “Be careful what you say.”
When her brown eyes cooled, he decided that he missed his original partner, Tom Dallas, who had gone back into the field about the time Graham and Casey
