Her father had been like that.
Before he’d died.
A pang of grief hit her and she shook her head. It had been two years and she still missed him like crazy. But he’d been a wonderful example of the ethical reporter she strived to be. She was determined to follow in his footsteps, determined to make him proud. Thinking of her father naturally sent her thoughts to her mother. A strong woman who’d loved her husband, she’d nearly been shattered by his death. His murder. He’d been killed by the big corporation he’d exposed as a front for the mafia. Killed by his best friend, who’d been the CEO of that corporation.
A lump formed in her throat.
Her parents had argued late one night. She’d come over for dinner and fallen asleep on the couch. When she’d awakened, she’d heard the harsh whispers coming from the kitchen. She’d stayed still and listened, hearing her mother begging her father to stop looking, to “give it up.” Her father had been adamant. “I’m not looking the other way, Kate. I can’t.”
“I’m afraid, Richie,” she’d whispered. “I’m truly afraid something will happen to you.”
And it had. Not even two weeks later, a jogger had found his body washed up against the shore of a nearby lake. Her father had taken a bullet through the back of his skull. Executed. She lifted her chin. But his work would live on through her. The men who’d killed her father had been captured, tried and imprisoned—including the best friend who’d put the hit out on him. But it didn’t bring her father back. It was up to her to carry on his work.
Truth, baby girl. Nothing’s more important than exposing lies and bringing truth to light. Keep your focus where it should be. Don’t step on people to get to the top. Don’t excuse people who do wrong no matter who they are—and you’ll do just fine.
Her father’s words ringing in her mind, she watched as Nick finally stood from the last place Annie had alerted on and tucked a small bag into the larger one he carried. “All right,” he said. “I think I’m done here for now.”
“Did you find anything else?”
“I’ll have to let the lab decide that.” He dug a hand into his front pocket and rewarded Annie with a treat and a “Good job, girl.”
His gaze slid to her and he opened his mouth as if to say something, then snapped it shut and gave her a grim smile.
He wasn’t going to tell her anything. He didn’t trust her. She gave a mental sigh and shrugged off the hurt. What did she expect with everyone thinking she was the anonymous blogger, posting about everything going on in the investigation of the Red Rose Killer? Things no one but the investigative team should know. The blogger had everyone on edge and pointing fingers.
While it was true she was upset she hadn’t been assigned the story, that didn’t mean she was going around shooting off her mouth about things she shouldn’t. The fact was she didn’t know anything. Other than what was reported in the papers—and by the anonymous blogger.
But Nick didn’t know that. He didn’t know her other than from a short snippet of conversation here and there. They often ran into each other at the Winged Java café and he always made a point to speak to her—but he kept himself at a distance. Like he didn’t want to get too close. For some reason, she wanted to change that.
His eyes narrowed on a spot over her shoulder. She turned to look. “What is it?” she asked.
“I thought I saw something move.”
“Everything’s moving around here. What are you talking about?”
“In the reserve just beyond the tree line.” He strode toward it, Annie on his heels.
Heidi went after him, not about to miss out. Had the guy that set the bomb off stayed behind to watch the action?
But that wouldn’t be smart.
Then again, where was the rule that said bombers had to be smart? “You think it could be one of the missing dogs?” she called after him.
Several months ago, after killing two trainers in the Military Working Dog program, Boyd Sullivan had opened all two hundred and seven kennels and released the animals. While the more highly trained dogs had stayed put, one hundred ninety-six dogs, some PTSD therapy dogs—and dogs with PTSD themselves—had escaped. Most had been found and returned to safety, but there were still twenty-one missing.
Nick reached the tree line and stopped, planting his hands on his hips. Heidi caught up and he shook his head. “No, it wasn’t a dog. This shadow had two legs.”
“Okay. You see him?”
“No.” He sighed and rubbed a hand at the back of his neck. “Maybe I’m just imagining things. Like my nerves are so tight it’s causing hallucinations.”
“But you really don’t believe that, so you want to keep looking, right?”
He slid a sideways glance at her. “Yes.”
“Then I’m going with you.”
“It’s probably nothing.”
“I’ll just tag along and make that decision myself, okay?”
“No, not okay. Stay here.”
“The longer you argue with me, the less likely you are to find out if you saw something.”
He shot her a black look and turned on his heel to go after whatever it was he thought he saw.
She shrugged and fell into step beside him, doing her best to ignore the pain in her knees. They were going to be sore for a few days, so she might as well get used to it.
Usually Heidi didn’t notice how small she was in comparison to the men she worked with on a regular basis, but being next to Nick made her feel positively tiny. And feminine.
Which was stupid. Okay, not necessarily stupid, but seriously—why was she so hyperaware of him? Why did she notice every little thing about him? Like the way his blue eyes crinkled at the corners when he was amused. Or the way his jaw tightened and his lips flattened into a thin line when he was annoyed. Or how his dark hair was never allowed to grow too long. She shouldn’t notice those things. But she did.
Nick was no more attracted to her than he was to the tree they’d just walked past, so she really needed to get over whatever it was she felt for him. The last thing she needed was to set herself up for heartbreak.
“I think he went this way,” Nick said, pulling her from her thoughts.
She followed even though she didn’t see what he did.
The farther they got from the kennel and all of the action, the more she thought he’d seen a bird or something. She hoped so, anyway. The adrenaline crash was coming now that the danger was over. It was over, wasn’t it? “You see anything else?”
“No. I’ve lost sight of him.”
“So it was definitely a him?”
“Yes.”
