Linda O. Johnston - Second Chance Soldier

In answer to further questions, Amber said her dad had loved working with dogs and even training other people to work with them, but had enjoyed doing it all himself, so he’d had no backup employees. She said he’d made a good living at it.

Evan also wanted to know what the family believed had happened to Corbin Belott, though he wouldn’t mention that now. Corbin had been murdered, Evan knew from his research. Shot, and his body was found on the grounds of his ranch by a ranch hand, whom Evan now believed was Orrin.

According to news reports, the case remained unsolved. Did his family have any idea about his enemies? Might his wife and daughter be in danger, too?

And Evan wondered how Amber and her mother handled such a horror. Sure, he had seen and dealt with death in many tragic ways, had nearly died himself—and would have, had it not been for Bear. But he had been at war, in a dangerous situation that he had chosen, somewhat, to face.

That was very different from what had happened here.

But this wasn’t the time or place to ask Amber about what had happened to her dad. It might never be appropriate, despite his curiosity.

Evan instead went to another item on his mental list that was more critical to him and his new job. “I know I’ll be working with some of your long-standing students tomorrow, which is great. I’ll get a taste of the classes your father taught both to potential pet trainers and to their dogs that need training, and that should help a lot. But I gather there aren’t other classes of any kind scheduled right now.”

He looked across the table directly into the brown eyes that studied him so intently. “Not yet,” she said. “I hope we can get other kinds started fast, which was why I wanted to update our website right away. You’ll need to work with our shepherd pups, too, but I know enough to understand it’ll be a while before they’re ready to be sold to police handlers and become actual K-9s, although I want word to get out that it’ll be coming. It would also be good if we get some interest now from officers who bring working K-9s in for additional training.”

“I agree,” Evan said. “And as for these pups, you’re right that it’s usually best not to turn them over to handlers until they’re a bit older and well trained, but if they progress well things could go faster.”

“Really?”

He liked the way Amber smiled at him, although he glanced over her shoulder after meeting her eyes.

“Really,” he said.

Their server returned with rolls and butter, so the conversation stalled just when Evan had thought it most interesting. But when they were alone once more—as alone as they could get in this crowded restaurant—he continued. “You’ve talked about therapy and service dog training, too.”

“That’s right,” Amber said, looking down toward the menu, then back at Evan’s face. “Assuming I find the right trainers to assist you. I recognize they’re not your specialty. I’d eventually love to do even more than my dad did. But I want to do things right and not rush into anything.” Those eyes narrowed a bit, as if she was trying to look into his mind, determine how quickly he could settle in and get down to work—and what he thought about service dog training.

Uncomfortable, he glanced away but made himself look back at her. “I understand. I’ll want to know more of your expectations about those other classes, including K-9s, though we did touch on the possibilities when we communicated by email. But for now, tell me about the people you expect will be here tomorrow. What’s their background in being trained so far, with just pets, right? Did they all start their classes with your father at the same time? And—”

He stopped abruptly as Amber’s eyes looked away from his and widened hugely. She looked troubled, and he ignored his sudden urge to stand and take her into his arms for comfort.

He wouldn’t—couldn’t—have done that even if she hadn’t been his employer. Instead, he turned to see where she was looking.

A woman was making her way between the people seated at the crowded tables, heading toward them—a woman in a cop uniform.

And Evan hoped that he was about to learn at least something about Corbin Belott’s murder.

* * *

It wasn’t surprising to see anyone in town here at The Joint, Amber told herself. Although, this evening, no one here that she knew had done more than toss a few friendly greetings toward her and return to their meals and conversations.

But Assistant Police Chief Kara Province was clearly heading in her direction.

Amber had met Kara after a local parade, then chatted with her at various town functions when she had come home to visit her parents. She was glad now that she had, since even though Kara wasn’t the primary cop assigned to investigate her father’s murder, she was at least somewhat forthcoming and kind, and kept Amber as apprised as she could about anything the police found.

Which so far hadn’t been much.

She reached their table at the same time their server did. “I’ll come back in a minute to take your order,” the server said, looking with irritation toward the cop as if she didn’t like the delay. Then she hurried away.

Kara was a tall, slender woman who looked completely at home in her black police uniform. She was only in her thirties, yet she had already risen through the ranks to become assistant chief of police, which Amber had admired even before she had any need to know a cop.

“Hi, Amber.” Kara’s soft voice was surprisingly audible over the louder voices around them. She glanced briefly down toward Evan, then back at Amber.

“This is my new dog trainer, Evan Colluro. Evan, meet Assistant Police Chief Kara Province.”

Amber watched them shake hands as Evan stood politely and glanced toward Kara’s face, but only briefly. Kara’s eyes rolled down him as if assessing him with interest. Amber didn’t like the pang of irritation that shot through her. Kara was most likely looking him over as a potential suspect in something, maybe even the murder of her father, but nothing personal. And even if she was flirting, well, so what?

“We haven’t ordered dinner yet,” Amber said. “Would you like to join us?” She glanced toward Evan to see his reaction to the idea, and assumed he wouldn’t appreciate it. She was surprised, therefore, to see a positive expression on his face as he nodded his approval.

“Not for dinner, but I will join you for a minute, if that’s okay.”

“Of course.” But Amber felt her body go slack. Was Kara about to tell them something new in the case regarding her dad?

If so, something helpful—or not?

Not, as it turned out. “I just wanted to let you know that we haven’t forgotten about you or your father, Amber,” Kara said, taking a seat at the side of the table between Evan and her. “But so far we have no new leads. We’re still—”

“I’m sorry,” Evan interrupted, “but I hope you don’t mind if I ask a few questions. I’m not in law enforcement, but I have a military background, and have also been taught to work with police K-9s and other dogs.”

“Yes, I figured at least part of that from Amber’s introduction of you as a new trainer at her ranch,” Kara said.

The server returned and placed glasses of water in front of all three of them. She must have assumed Kara was joining them—which was true, if only for a short while.

“I don’t know much about the case,” Evan continued, “but I checked out the ranch before applying for the job. I understand Mr. Belott was found on his ranch’s grounds, and he had been shot.”

Amber closed her eyes and shuddered. She knew that, yet every time she was reminded of it, she wanted to break down and cry. She made herself open her eyes again and looked toward Evan, only to find he was watching her, maybe more directly than he had done since they had met.