to stay put, she sat up. “How did the puppies get out?”
“I assume you brought them out,” Shane replied, lowering himself to a knee as puppy feet pawed at air, scrambling to get close to her. “Do you remember anything?”
She took one puppy into her arms, soothing herself as much as the dog as she tried to think. “Not really.” Her eyesight cleared much faster than her mind. Logic said she was on the overnight shift for the new arrivals, but her memory was a blur. “Who called the RRPD?”
“I did.” His sandy eyebrows drew together. “Stumps and I were on a walk and he sensed something wrong here in the yard. RRPD and an ambulance should be here any minute.”
She glanced around for Stumps and found him sitting in an alert position, his gaze trained on the door to the kennels. “I’ll thank him later.” She tipped her head toward the building. “Looks like he’s still on the job.”
Shane’s expression tightened even more. “Is there another way inside?” he asked, his voice low at her ear.
“Only the front and back doors you know about.”
“Where is the ambulance?” he wondered aloud.
“You need to investigate,” she said.
“I don’t want to leave you out here alone.” He scowled. “Do you think you can stand?”
At her nod, he helped her to her feet, both of them dodging the antics of the excitable puppies. When she had the leads in hand and the puppies under control, they walked to the door where Stumps waited.
“Hang on.” He drew his gun. He and the dog went through the door first. He moved into the shadows, peering down each row. “Hit the lights,” he called.
She did. Several of the younger dogs were restless, whining, barking or up and pacing in their crates. The fully trained dogs sat quietly, or were stretched out, curious but patient. Somewhere out of sight, a beagle bayed pitifully. Danica recognized the voice of Stella, a sweet-natured two-year-old being trained for a tracking career.
Shane walked back into view, squinting against the bright glare of the fluorescent lights with Stumps trotting at his heel. “Best way to your office?”
She was a little surprised he didn’t know. “Straight ahead, through the door, second door on the right. Shouldn’t we kennel the puppies?”
“Not yet,” he replied, his voice flat. “Stay close.” His gun raised against any threat, he cleared the hallway and her office. Lowering his weapon, he held the door for her. “Lock yourself in and wait for backup,” he ordered. “I’m going to see what Stumps can find.”
She tried to protest but he pinned her with that unrelenting, chilly blue gaze. It wasn’t a look any argument would overcome. She sat down at her desk and soothed the puppies with soft words and warm caresses. She wanted to be out in the kennels, sorting out the situation. Helping. The dogs needed a familiar face and the quickest possible return to their routine. At this rate, tomorrow’s training plans would fall on deaf dog ears after the disruptions tonight.
Despite the sirens they’d heard outside, it seemed to be taking forever for anyone to actually arrive. She wondered what he’d told them when he made the call after Stumps had found her. What had they been doing walking out this way? She supposed it could have been a case. Knowing he worked private cases as well as assignments for the RRPD, that thought didn’t give her much comfort.
When Shane had been training to partner with Stumps, she’d tried time and again to reach out and bridge the abyss of resentment between him and the Gage family. Shane hadn’t been the least bit interested in her efforts. Stumps she remembered fondly from those days and enjoyed whenever he returned for a refresher.
His partner, Shane, not so much. Tall and ripped, with sandy blond hair and hard eyes, he’d given her shivers—not all of them good. He was wonderful to look at, but he carried a chip on his shoulder the size of the nearby mountains, though she could hardly blame him.
As she pulled a bag of dog treats from her lower desk drawer, she trembled at the memory of asking Shane about his choice to become a private investigator rather than going through the academy to become a police officer.
“Someone should keep cops honest,” he’d replied in that flat tone that unnerved her. “I nominated myself.”
The Colton and Gage families had been feuding since the first days of Red Ridge. But Shane harbored more resentment than all the generations before him. His words, dripping with well-aged hatred, were a clear warning to mind her own business. Danica considered herself a quick study and she’d lost her courage to share how his predicament had affected her own career choices.
“His predicament,” she muttered to the puppies. What a pathetic understatement for wrongful imprisonment. Weary and inexplicably sad, she managed to get the puppies to sit and rewarded them accordingly as she tried to purge the past she couldn’t change from her mind.
That exchange years ago had convinced her Shane would never find a way to forgive her grandfather for the dreadful mistakes that had cost Shane his freedom and so much more. She understood why he hated them all collectively, but she’d never quite been able to stop wishing she could fix it. She studied the bright eyes in the two attentive faces watching her. “Why can I remember the past just fine and have no idea what happened to us tonight?”
* * *
With Danica as safe as possible, Shane backtracked with Stumps. He heard vehicles out front and the flashing lights were bouncing off the side of the brick building, spilling into the yard. At the door between the yard and the kennel, he drew his gun once more and set Stumps to searching again. Stumps moved with purpose, Shane’s encouragement following him, as he confidently trotted into the kennel and searched the rows.
Shane noted the various dog breeds along the route. Had this been a visit for a refresher course, he would have appreciated the soft-eyed basset hound or given reassurances to the enormous Newfoundland who watched Stumps work with obvious concern. It was easy to judge the progress of each dog’s training by how they reacted to the disruption. The fully trained dogs were quietly observant. The dogs still in progress whined or barked as Stumps and Shane passed.
Stumps abruptly turned down an aisle that seemed deserted. He’d clearly caught the scent of something that didn’t belong. Stumps walked a bit further and then dropped into a perfect alert pose in front of an open kennel. Shane read the tag on the door and swore.
Nico. Belgian Malinois. Protection.
“Great.” If this dog had been released without authorization, the training center had a brand-new crisis on their hands. Shane took a picture of the tag with his phone and another picture of Stumps at alert. Then he released his dog and gave him a reward.
“Shane? It’s Carson. You in here? Where’s Danica?”
At the sound of Carson Gage’s voice, Shane called out, “I’m in the last row. Danica should be locked safely in her office.” He should have known the dispatcher would notify Danica’s oldest brother, a detective with the RRPD. Though Shane avoided the Gage family whenever possible, Carson was notoriously thorough on his cases and had earned Shane’s grudging respect through the years.
“Is she hurt?” Carson asked as he hurried forward through the rows of dogs.
Shane
