Lenora Worth - Classified K-9 Unit Christmas

Until next time, may the angels watch over you.

Always.

Lenora Worth

To Terri Reed—you make me proud every day.

I’m so glad to be here with you!

For He will give His angels charge concerning you to guard you in all of your ways.

—Psalms 91:11

ONE

The full moon grinned down on her with a wintry smile. FBI Tactical K-9 Unit Agent Nina Atkins held on to the leash and kept an eye on the big dog running with her. Sam loved being outside, no matter the weather, no matter the crunch of snow underneath his paws. The three-year-old K-9 rottweiler, a smart but gentle giant that specialized in cadaver detection, had no idea that most humans were terrified of him. Especially the criminal kind.

Tonight, however, they weren’t looking for criminals. Nina was just out for a nice run and then home to a long, hot shower. Two weeks before Christmas, and after a harrowing year where one of their own had gone bad and lost his life, thankfully all was quiet around the Billings, Montana, FBI Tactical K-9 Unit headquarters. Special Agent in Charge Max West would be back before Christmas, but right now he was taking some time off with his bride, Katerina. Even tech wiz Dylan O’Leary had taken a few days away to spend some time with the parents of his wife, Zara. So many of her friends and fellow agents had fallen in love lately, Nina’s head was spinning. Which was probably why she’d felt the need for a quick run. She lived for her work. No time for romance. Okay, maybe she’d just given up on a love life since her last brief relationship had fizzled out like a mountain stream in a serious drought.

Nina lived about twenty miles from downtown Billings, in the quaint town of Iris Rock. Regardless of her single status, she loved going on these nightly runs through the quiet foothills near the Elk Basin.

“C’mon, Sam,” Nina said now, her nose cold. “Just around the bend and then we’ll cool down on the way home.”

Sam woofed in response, comfortable in his own rich brown fur. But instead of moving on, the big dog came to an abrupt halt that almost threw Nina right over his broad body.

“Sam?”

The rottweiler glanced back at her with his work expression. What kind of scent had he picked up?

Then she heard something.

“I don’t know anything. Please, don’t do this.”

Female. Youngish voice. Scared and shaky.

Giving Sam a hand signal to stay quiet, Nina moved from the narrow gravel jogging path to the snow-covered woods, each footstep slow and calculated. Sam led the way, as quiet as a desert rat.

“I need the key. The senator said you’d give it to me.”

Nina and Sam hid behind a copse of trees and dead brambles and watched the two figures a few yards away, standing in an open spot.

A big, tall man was holding a gun on a young woman with long dark hair. The girl was sobbing and wringing her hands out, palms up. Nina recognized that defensive move.

Was he going to shoot her?

Then Nina noticed something else.

A shallow, open pit right behind the girl. Could that be a newly dug grave?

Nina didn’t stop to ponder that question, but she knew to be careful, too. Giving Sam another “quiet” signal, she called out, “Hey, everything okay here?”

The girl gasped and stared at her with fear-filled eyes, but stayed frozen to the spot.

The man turned to face her. Nina used a hand signal to allow Sam to bark, hoping to distract the man so the girl could run. The dog did his job, his ferocious bark echoing loudly out over the winter woods. Since she didn’t have her weapon, Sam was Nina’s only hope right now in stopping the girl from getting shot. That could give her time to call for help.

The man stared at Nina, giving her a good view of his face in the eerie white light from the moon. He shot at her and just missed, and then pivoted back toward the girl, weapon in hand. Sam kept barking. The man looked panicked, so Nina motioned the rottweiler forward, all the while taking in the assailant’s appearance.

The big dog growled, but stopped when she signaled him. “My dog is trained to attack,” she said. “You should drop that gun now.”

The man shook his head and raised the gun, but Nina signaled Sam again. The animal danced and barked, causing a panicked expression on the man’s face. He started backing away, but in a lightning-fast move, pivoted and took one quick shot at the girl.

She screamed, grabbed at her shoulder and fell into the open pit behind her as the gunman disappeared into the woods.

Sam kept barking, eager for some action.

Nina pulled out her phone and hurriedly called in the crime, describing the scene and her location. “Suspect somewhere in the Iris Rock woods just off the Eastern trail.”

Jumping down into the pit, she breathed a sigh of relief. The girl was still alive, though her pulse was weak. Nina almost sent Sam after the man, but instead ordered him to guard in case the killer came back. Because Nina knew in her gut that he would return. She hoped by then she’d have backup.

She’d need it, and she’d need to pray for protection. He’d left his victim alive, and the girl had seen his face. So had Nina. She and Sam had surprised the man and thrown him off guard long enough to defuse the situation. And because of that, he’d probably come back for all of them.

* * *

US Deputy Marshal Thomas Grant brought his big Chevy pickup to a halt just off the edge of the woods. Something was certainly going on. Several police cars and a few big black SUVs sat caddy-cornered off the narrow road ahead, lights flashing to warn any passersby. Official-looking people milled around, some dressed in black and wearing FBI vests. A couple officers had K-9s with them, sniffing here and there.

He decided to investigate, because his gut told him this was more than a traffic stop or an accident. This looked like an all-out manhunt in progress.

Dressed in civilian clothes as he was, he pulled out his ID as soon as he climbed from the truck, and flashed it at the first officer he came into contact with.

“What are you doing here?” the young patrolman asked with a skeptical tone.

“Looking for a wanted man,” Thomas replied on a droll note. “He could be in these parts.”

The cop nodded and let him through.

Then Thomas spotted her.

A female wearing heavy jogging clothes and a bright purple wool hat hopped up out of a dark, six-foot-long hole in the snow-speckled ground. A big, fierce-looking dog met her and wagged his tail, while she held up her hands to show the crime scene techs what looked like dirt and blood.

Thomas watched as the woman talked to an officer, her hands lifted in the air. Then he glanced to where an ambulance had backed up into the woods. Two EMTs pushed a stretcher carrying a young woman hooked up to an IV toward the waiting bus.

Before he could announce his presence, the jogger glanced over at Thomas and stalked toward him. “May I ask what you’re doing here, Deputy Marshal?”

He took in the light blond hair underneath the wool hat and the big brown eyes full of distrust. He had to look down at her, but she stood straight and didn’t flinch.

He showed her his credentials even though he’d given the officer his name already. “US Deputy Marshal Thomas Grant. I was passing by and saw the ruckus. I’m looking for a man—.”

“Hey, Nina, can you come over here?”

“Hold that thought,” she told Thomas with a puzzled glare, before she turned back to a man wearing an official FBI jacket.

“Coming,” she said, scooting toward where a group of FBI agents gathered by the open earth. They stood in a cluster and talked among themselves, the woman right in the middle.

Thomas waited and listened, two things he was good at. Soon enough, he’d stitched together the details. The cute blonde had been out jogging and had stumbled across a crime in progress. A man holding a gun on a young girl. The jogger must have called it in.