course,” Shane promised, tension thrumming in the obedient reply.
“I’ll just get back to my desk,” Brayden said, making a swift exit with Echo.
“Do you have anything else for me?” Finn said, stopping Shane’s attempt to follow.
“I was about to write it up.” At Finn’s obvious frustration, Shane relented. “We didn’t find anything at the site of the exchange to connect the gun deal to the Larson brothers.”
Finn swore. “I’m not surprised.” His gaze shifted to the window and the view of the street outside. “Thanks for trying.”
“Um, sure.” The gratitude was unexpected considering he’d basically failed, and Shane tried to leave again.
“Can you take on one more investigation?” Finn asked as Shane reached for the door.
He paused, unwilling to volunteer for what he feared was coming next.
“Everyone is working overtime on the Groom Killer,” Finn said. “I really need you and Stumps to take point on the missing Malinois.”
Shane smothered a groan and barely resisted rolling his eyes. “How is Danica this morning?” The question was out before he could stop it.
“Carson said she was good as new when he called in earlier.” Finn raised his chin toward the bull pen. “Looks like you can ask her yourself.”
Shane turned to see the redhead in question walking in with her brother and his K9 partner, Justice. She was dressed for work. Why wasn’t she at work?
“I know with your history this is the last case you want. I sympathize.”
Sympathy never fixed anything, Shane thought. Working the missing Malinois case inevitably meant more time with Danica, prime witness. “There has to be something else, another investigation we can help with.” Shane dropped to one knee and gave Stumps some affection, soothing both of them. He didn’t consider it hiding.
“You can’t hold her grandfather’s mistakes against her,” Finn said. “She had nothing to do with your incarceration.”
“I know.” She’d been a kid, fifteen or sixteen, maybe. At barely eighteen, he’d only been an adult in his mirror and in the eyes of the law. Still, the resentment was easier than forgiveness for so many reasons.
“Under normal circumstances I wouldn’t push it,” Finn was saying.
Shane stood up, folding his arms over his chest. “But?”
“Damn it, don’t make me beg.” He came around the desk and went toe-to-toe with Shane. “You know as well as I do we can’t have a trained protection dog out there.” His face clouded, the dark blond eyebrows casting deep shadows over his blue eyes. “Take Danica and start with the Larson twins.” It was clearly an order. “They were mad as hell when Darby wouldn’t sell them any puppies. They were specifically looking for protection dogs at the time.”
“Not good,” Shane muttered. Darby, Bo Gage’s ex-wife, had recently taken over the German shepherd breeding business.
“Not at all,” Finn agreed. He opened the office door and called Danica over to join them. After a brief exchange and assurance that she was well, Finn explained that Shane had been assigned to her case and they would be working together.
Though Danica’s lips lifted into a polite smile, Shane noticed the strain of the news in her eyes. Well, at least they found common ground with their mutual distaste for Finn’s orders. Maybe working closely with her—away from the training center—would help him purge the last of his lingering attraction to the one woman in town who would never want anything to do with him. The one woman in town he shouldn’t want at all. As she crouched to chat with Stumps, he supposed the dog gave them two common points to work from.
She looked up, her green gaze misty and warmer than usual. “Thank you,” she said.
He would have been less surprised if she’d punched him.
“Thank you, too,” she repeated to Stumps.
“What?” Behind him, Finn mumbled something that might have been advice, but Shane’s attention was locked on Danica as she stood up.
“For everything last night,” she said. “You let Stumps stay with me. I heard that you, um, stayed, too.” Her lips twisted to the side. “I appreciate it.”
“Okay.” The sincere gratitude threw him off. Struggling with it, he shoved the conversation back onto the proper track. “We’ll start with the Larsons,” Shane began, ignoring more muttering from Finn. “As long as we also pursue the theory that the attacker knew Danica personally.”
“Pardon me?”
There—the familiar wariness was back in her eyes and the world settled under his feet once more. “You could easily have been severely injured,” he explained. “The attacker drugged you when he might as easily have bashed you over the head or just killed you.”
Her green eyes went wide and her face paled. Those freckles reappeared. A heartbeat later her eyes sparked and her cheeks flamed with temper. Good recovery. He pressed his point. “For that matter, why didn’t he kill you once you were down? It would have been a smarter move. No way to be sure what you might remember. A stranger probably wouldn’t care whether you lived or died, but someone who knows you might.”
“Might?” Her auburn brows challenged his choice of words and she folded her arms over her chest. “I only know of one person in town who’d like to bash me or mine over the head.” She gave him a pointed look, clearly accusing him of being that person.
She wasn’t exactly wrong, though he kept his Gage-bashing urges under wraps by simply avoiding them as much as possible.
“Moreover, anyone who knows me probably knows better than to steal a trained attack dog. Without a handler, Nico might as well be a loose cannon—”
“Enough,” Finn interjected. “Figure out a way to work this case together,” he ordered. “Shane is in charge,” he said to Danica. “And keep me in the loop on your progress.”
“Yes, sir,” Shane said.
Danica echoed him and when he opened the door, she passed him with her pert nose high in the air. Just like a Gage to be certain they knew everything about everyone before all the facts were in.
* * *
Danica fumed in silence over the shift in her circumstances. The only silver lining she could see was that proximity to Shane kept her mind well away from the bone-deep sense of violation haunting her. She’d argued that driving from the police station to the training center was a waste, but Shane had pointed out that every minute of walking was a minute they weren’t looking for Nico.
“Do you really think the Larson twins would stoop to this?” she asked as he parked the car.
“At the moment, I think they’re capable of most anything.”
They’d come over so Danica could pick up a microchip scanner
