Lenora Worth - Classified K-9 Unit Christmas

“Really?” she asked, surprised. “We could have just opened a can for the soup. And I’m not sure how you managed biscuits.”

“Really, I opened two cans for my special soup. And added a few special ingredients.”

“I’m almost afraid to ask.”

“Then don’t.”

“And the biscuits?”

“You had flour, milk, eggs and baking powder.”

“My mom restocks every time she comes to visit.”

“Well, that turned out to be a good thing.”

His eyes were so amazing. They’d turned as blue-gray as the storm she’d seen over the big sky at dusk and just as mysterious.

Nina laughed and inhaled. “Well, I have to admit that smells better than the soggy pizza I usually bring home.”

“You’re almost out of protein bars,” he replied. “I didn’t throw your last two into the pot.”

“I’m so glad you didn’t.”

They bantered back and forth while they got the lights straightened out and wrapped around the sad little evergreen.

“I think this tree is going to be lost in a burst of color,” Thomas stated. “Where did you buy it? ’Cause I think you need a refund.”

“Ha, funny.” She shrugged. “A kid was selling them to make money to buy a bicycle. I felt sorry for him. He’d obviously scoured the back forty and...found the best of the lot.”

“We could find you a prettier tree,” Thomas pointed out. “But this one is kind of tugging at my heartstrings in that Charlie Brown kind of way.”

“I wish you could see the tree my mom and dad put up each year,” she replied, not even thinking about her words. “It’s fresh and has to be at least nine feet tall and covers one corner of the den in our log house. Dad fusses every year, but he loves hanging the lights on the tree and along the staircase. We all gather on Christmas Eve and sing carols and hymns, and then we eat a big meal of barbecue and all the trimmings. My brothers and their families all live nearby and I usually show up at the last minute and then...it’s Christmas.”

“That is Christmas,” Thomas said, his eyes dark with a longing that tore at Nina’s heart. “Sounds wonderful.”

“You’ll see, Thomas,” she said. “My family has a steadfast rule that we can bring anyone we want home for Christmas.”

He nodded, but he didn’t look so sure about that invitation.

Did he think she was pushing him in the wrong way? Nina wondered. Because she’d done it again. Invited him to go home with her for Christmas. She wouldn’t ask anymore.

Or was he too afraid to stop being alone to enjoy being with someone during the holidays?

She was about to ask him that when the buzzer on the stove dinged and caused her to step back.

“Dinner is ready,” he said, that distant longing still in his eyes, his smile beautiful but full of resolve and regret. “We’d better eat so we can finish making this tree as special as the one you just described.”

FIVE

“I have to admit, that was some pretty good soup. Noodles and potatoes and carrots and...what kind of spices did you put in there?”

Thomas grinned and winked. “You had some ginger and rosemary stashed away in the spice drawer.”

Nina hit a hand against her head. “Oh, my mom gave me a whole spice rack last time I was home. I think she was trying to give me a hint. You know, get some spice in your life and find someone and get married and make babies.”

“All that from a couple of shakes into the pot?”

“All that and more,” she replied, before taking a sip of her hot chocolate. “She also gave me this cocoa mix.”

He toasted her with his own. “I think mixing up the recipe in a Mason jar is sweet. It’s a mama thing.”

Remembering he’d never had that, she nodded. “I have a good family so I shouldn’t complain.”

Misreading her statement for pity, he put down the mug with a motif of a laughing reindeer centered on it. “Hey, don’t apologize or downplay that on my account. I’m okay. I have a good job and I get to travel the whole country having fun.”

“Fun? You call some of the things we deal with fun?”

“No. I said I was having fun, not that it is fun.”

“Oh, so that makes a big difference.”

“I love my job,” he admitted with a sheepish shrug. “If I can’t have a big family, I can help someone else get home to theirs.”

“I guess that’s a good way to look at it,” she replied, turning serious while her heart did that strange little beat again. “Except those two dead girls never had that chance.”

“We’ll find him,” Thomas said. “I have a steadfast rule. I always get the bad guy.”

“I try to enforce that same rule,” she said. “But I’m still new to the team. I’ve been here almost a year now and things are getting better, but I never wanted to up my status by stumbling into something this twisted and strange.”

“You were the first officer on the scene. Your SAC is wise to stand back and let you do your job.”

“Maybe,” she said. And then she asked Thomas something she’d been wondering. “But is he doing that because of my abilities or because you just happened along to help out?”

Surprise filled Thomas’s eyes. “Does it matter? We’re in it together now.”

She stood and took their empty mugs to the sink. “But would I be carrying the same clout if you weren’t here?”

Irritation shadowed his expression. “Are we seriously having this conversation? Am I a threat to you, Nina?”

“No. But am I an equal to you?”

“You’re way above my pay scale, even if you earn less than me,” he said, gathering his coat. “I came here for one reason—to bring a killer back to Texas. I can’t change the circumstances that brought us together, but I intend to do my job. But you seem to have a one track mind on getting bad guys, so that makes you more valuable than me right now.”

In spite of you, she figured he wanted to say. He intended to do his job in spite of her.

Wishing she’d kept her mouth shut, Nina pushed at her hair and then tugged at her sweater. “I’m sorry. I want to do my job, too.”

“Then cut that kind of talk,” he said, jamming his meaty arms into his coat. “It’s been a long day. I think I’ll head back to the inn. I would offer to check the place, but I don’t want to offend your stubborn need to measure up.”

She deserved that, Nina decided. Why had she even let him see her insecurities? That only made her look weak and helpless.

“Thanks, Thomas,” she said in a low voice. “For helping with the tree and...for cooking.”

“You can enjoy the leftovers tomorrow night,” he retorted.

Alone.

The silence shouted that one word between them.

He turned for the door, Nina close behind.

And then the whole house went black.

* * *

Sam growled quietly. Nina didn’t move, but she crouched low next to her partner. Listening, she heard a noise out in the carport attached to the house. It sounded as if someone had stumbled into the empty trash can. Then she heard the groan of something heavy being shoved aside.

The rottweiler woofed. “Sam, quiet,” she ordered. “Stay.”

She could hear Thomas by the door. “Nina, stay down.”

“I am down,” she whispered. “But I don’t have my weapon and I never reset the alarm after we came in tonight.”

“I’ve got my weapon,” he said. “And he’d have probably disengaged the alarm, anyway.”

He came near and grasped her by the arm. “It could be the storm. Where’s your circuit breaker?”

“The kitchen, by the door to the carport. But I heard something—”

“I did, too.”

“Let’s check.”

He didn’t argue. Together, they stayed down and worked their way to the kitchen. Nina sat and scooted toward the corner where the circuit box was located. “I’ll need some light,” she whispered.