Valerie Hansen - Rookie K-9 Unit Christmas

“Ah, you’re still in uniform, aren’t you,” he muttered. “Of course. You think you’re on duty.”

At first, he assumed the dog’s ensuing reaction was to his voice. She slowly rose, growling and bristling. The effect of her hair standing up made her look twice as big. And dangerous. But she wasn’t looking at him. Or at his son. Again, she was focused beyond them.

“Zoe!” Sean shouted.

She whirled, her hand hovering over her holster. “What?”

Sean turned to follow the dog’s line of sight. A beefy man wearing a dark vest was walking past in the distance. He could have been anybody. There was no reason for concern. Or was there?

By the time Zoe rejoined him at her car, the stranger had climbed into a dusty red pickup.

She touched Sean’s arm. “Did you recognize somebody?”

“No.” Frowning, he kept watching as the truck pulled away. “It was your dog again. She really doesn’t like that guy in the dirty truck.”

“She may have picked up the scent of gunpowder or drugs coming from him. Whatever is wrong, I’d trust her opinion over that of almost any human.”

“Okay.” Still peering at the truck, Sean caught his breath and reached for Zoe’s arm. “Look!”

“What? What do you see that I don’t?”

“The passenger,” Sean gasped. “His arm. On the open window. It looks like it’s in a cast!”

“Why would...?”

“Because I hit one of my attackers with Patrick’s baseball bat. Remember?”

“You told me you fought them off. You never mentioned a bat.” She was already running back to direct the patrol car. Those officers jumped into their unit and started in pursuit.

“Do you think they’ll catch them?” Sean called as she returned.

A solemn shake of her head was all the answer he got. All he needed. Given the delay starting the pursuit, chances were not good.

“Sorry,” Sean said. “I shouldn’t have put Patrick in the car. I just thought it would be safer.”

“It was. It is. I wouldn’t have chased after them in a private vehicle, anyway. It’s dangerous enough with red lights and sirens.”

He nodded.

“Believe it or not, we don’t usually go around acting wild like the cops on TV and in the movies. I have yet to take a class on how to jump onto the top of a speeding car and disarm the suspects inside.”

“No?” Despite the recent fright, he couldn’t help smiling slightly at the mental picture. “That’s too bad. I’d have liked to watch.”

“Then rent a DVD. I’m not doing any leaping.”

“Not even to entertain Patrick?”

“No, but I do have some ideas for him. If we get you into a class soon, I can recommend a local day care. The police chief’s daughter goes there, so you know it’s very safe.”

Sean had to take a deep breath before trying to answer. “I never thought about having to leave him. I figured he could stay with me. He’ll behave. I know he will. Particularly if he gets to watch dogs.”

“And not be allowed to play with them? I doubt it,” Zoe said. “But let’s not get ahead of ourselves. We still have to convince Ellen Foxcroft to put you in her program.”

“You’re right. One thing at a time,” Sean said. “Let’s go home.”

“And keep an eye out for that red truck on the way.”

“Oh, yeah.” He had already buckled up and was braced to keep watch, front and rear.

Had the would-be assassins really tracked him here? Were they that clever? Was he that careless? He hadn’t thought so, but it was beginning to look as if the danger he’d wanted to escape was still with him.

If only he knew why somebody wanted him dead. Knowing why might point him to who and he’d know what to do next. There had to be something. There had to be. He needed to survive for Patrick’s sake. Surely God wouldn’t punish an innocent child for the mistakes of his parents.

If he still believed in the power of prayer, he might reach out. Beg for protection for his son. However, he had prayed repeatedly for Sandra’s redemption and look what the result had been. How could he trust a God who let a child nearly drown? Who deprived the boy of a mother?

That thought brought him up short. In the case of Sandra’s untimely death, perhaps that was the only thing that had protected Patrick from her drug-induced mania. But then the pool. Why the pool?

Sean’s mind was whirling, stunned by myriad possibilities, none of which made sense to him. He was a civilian now, ready to take care of his son, but he wasn’t whole, either. How could a loving heavenly Father expect to use an earthly father who was so damaged?

And then it hit him. Without Patrick, without purpose, there would be no reason to fight anymore. No reason to try to heal. No reason to have come to Desert Valley, to have reunited with the extraordinary woman seated beside him.

He gazed at Zoe. Right now, he needed her help. Maybe, when all this was over, he’d be able to repay her kindness. He certainly hoped so because now that he had seen her again, he didn’t intend to let more long years pass without keeping in closer touch. If he had not had her to reach out to when his life fell apart recently he didn’t know how he’d have managed.

Something flashed in the rays of the setting sun, as if glinting off a gun barrel. Sean yelled. Ducked. Unsnapped his seat belt and threw himself over the back of his seat toward Patrick just as a shot rang out.

Freya closed her mouth on Sean’s shoulder to stop him but didn’t bite hard enough to break the skin.

Zoe swerved toward the curb. “Anybody hit?”

“No,” he shouted. “I saw a reflection just in time. Get us out of here!”

“Hang on!”

Temporarily steering with one hand, she punched a button on her cell phone. “Trent here. Possible shots fired. We’re almost to my house. It’s the old Peterson place on Second, not far from Sophie Williams’s. We took fire about a half-mile south. Can’t pinpoint the exact location.”

Sean barely had hold of the buckle on his seat belt when she dropped the phone and fisted both hands tightly on the wheel. Her jaw was set.

“What did they say?”

“They’re on the scene. Found the red truck, abandoned, close to where we were shot at. It was stolen. If the guys took off on foot, they were probably our shooters.”

“That makes sense.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. Either way, I’m getting you and Patrick back inside where you’ll be safer. They can’t hit you if they can’t see you.”

“I’m sorry I dragged you into this,” Sean said.

“You didn’t drag me into anything. I walked in with both eyes open. This is what I do. Why I got into this business. What good is all my special training if I don’t use it?”

He recalled one silly way they used to tease each other in college and revived it, hoping his breathlessness wasn’t too evident. “So, where’s your superhero cape?”

“At the cleaner’s,” she shot back as she slid the car around a tight corner in perfect control. “I use a badge and a gun, now.”

Sean sighed. “That’s my Zoe. Saving the world, one friend at a time.”

He wasn’t happy with the role reversal. Men were supposed to rescue damsels in distress. He snorted quietly. That was not likely to happen when the woman in question was his old friend, Zoe Trent.

FOUR

Zoe didn’t slow much as she entered the open garage. If she hadn’t been concerned about the whole situation, she might have laughed when Sean braced himself on the dash with both hands.

“I’ve been taught defensive driving,” she said. “Don’t panic.”

“Defensive is one thing. Driving through the back wall of a garage is another.”

“Ya think?” A soft chuckle erupted. “Don’t worry. I have complete control.”