Justine Davis - Operation Notorious

Cutter trotted over to her and she gave him a quick pat.

“I’m still trying to figure out how he got in without me hearing,” Gavin said, not commenting on what she’d said about the dog’s decision process; he didn’t want that door opened.

“He has his ways.” She glanced over at the dog’s set of bowls as if to make sure he had food and water. As if on cue the animal walked over and began to lap. “Did you sleep? He didn’t keep you awake?”

“Some. Enough. And no. It actually was...” He wasn’t sure what to call it.

“He’s very comforting. And you,” Hayley added, eyeing his bare torso assessingly, “are too thin. You’re going to eat while you’re here.”

“Hey,” he protested, “not everybody can be built like Quinn.”

She laughed. “He always said you run on nerves and coffee.”

“Fuel of the gods,” he said. Cutter, finished with his drink and a few pieces of kibble, came back and sat at his feet. He scratched the spot behind the dog’s right ear that he knew he liked.

He couldn’t help but notice that through breakfast—Quinn’s famous scramble that was never the same twice, and which he ate enough of to satisfy even Hayley—and the rest of the early morning, Cutter was never far away. In fact, he seemed to have attached himself nearly at the hip, even following him when he took a shower and dressed.

Before, for a meeting with a client, he would have worn a suit. But Foxworth was a different place, and he was a different man, no longer worried about impressions and the look of success. Yet when he stood in front of the bathroom mirror with his razor in hand, debating whether to bother, it was Katie’s image that floated into his mind. Did the local librarian like or dislike stubble? The moment he realized where his mind had drifted, he slapped the razor down on the counter, rather sharply.

When he’d packed he hadn’t included one of those suits, telling Charlie that if they needed him in such a rush they had to take what they got. Of course, that had been when he’d thought they’d needed him up here for a case. A case that at the time hadn’t existed. Which gave him another thought. When she’d sent him, Charlie had to have known there was no case.

Back in the guest room he picked up his phone and hit the speed dial. As he’d half expected, it went to voice mail. Probably thinks I’m ticked. As I would be, except—

The tone cut off his thought. “Okay, Charlie, I get it,” he said for the recording. “I’m a bit restless. But now there really is a case, so you’re safe for a while. See you when I get back.”

He ended the call and put the phone in his pocket.

Then he started to mentally prepare for the meeting with Katie Moore, who was also the reason he wasn’t really angry with his boss.

And that realization made him even more restless.

Chapter 7

Gavin gave Cutter, with whom he was sharing the back seat, another head scratch. The dog shifted in the seat, giving up his intent looking-out-the-window to lie down beside him and plop his chin on his knee. Automatically Gavin stroked the dog’s head, and was once more struck at how soothing that simple action was.

He seems to have decided you need his attention...

Hayley’s words played back in his head. The dog certainly seemed to sense things. Although that didn’t explain the stunt he’d pulled last night with the phone. He wasn’t sure anything could.

Keep it up, de Marco. Pretty soon you’ll be buying everything else they say about this critter.

With an inward laugh at himself, he gave the dog a final pat as they turned off the paved road onto a gravel drive.

He’d forgotten how truly peaceful the surroundings were here at the northwest headquarters. Set back from the road at the end of the drive that curved through thick trees, the dark green, three-story structure sat in a clearing that seemed a world away from city chaos. It was unmarked; as with most of Foxworth, they didn’t advertise their presence.

He noticed that the double sliding doors of the warehouse-like building set to one side were open.

“Rafe must be here,” Hayley said, clearly having seen the same thing.

Despite the good working relationship they’d developed, Rafer Crawford still unnerved Gavin like no judge or opposing lawyer ever had. He also knew that building was mostly Rafe’s bailiwick; the former marine sniper with the deadly eye had a knack for mechanics. He said the two went hand in hand, that the calculation on a long shot was brother to the logic of machinery.

Cutter seemed to know the man was back as well, although he seemed a bit reluctant to leave his self-selected spot at Gavin’s side. Bemused anew, Gavin told him to go and shook his head when the dog gave him a final nudge before taking off for the open doors at a dead run, head and tail and ears up, letting out an odd series of barks, a staccato combination of short and long.

Rafe came out through the open doors to greet the dog, who danced around him delightedly. Gavin knew the tall, lean man was a favorite of the dog, as evidenced by the specific bark he used only for him. After a minute or two the animal left his beloved Rafe and came trotting back to attach himself at Gavin’s knee. An act they all seemed to notice, including Rafe as he headed toward them.

Gavin was struck by how different the man seemed here. He, as all of Foxworth did, occasionally visited the St. Louis headquarters. Rafe always seemed more guarded there, although dressed like any other person who worked in one of the towering buildings, drawing no notice from people too busy with the bustle of their own lives to see the leashed predator among them. That he was able to go unnoticed at all was testament to his skill, Gavin supposed.

But here he was more relaxed, at ease, as if here he didn’t have to hide behind a mask of bland civilization.

“Who’s in trouble?” Rafe asked with one brow lifted when he reached them.

“Apparently I was,” Gavin answered, not taking offense.

Rafe glanced at Cutter, who was leaning against Gavin’s leg. “I see.” He shifted his gaze back to Gavin and considered that for a moment. “Getting on Charlie’s nerves again?”

“Interesting that that’s your first guess,” Gavin said drily.

Rafe’s mouth quirked at one corner. “You two remind me of a pair of siblings I knew once. So alike they had to pick fights with each other now and then, just to keep life interesting.”

Gavin glanced at Quinn; he was, after all, Charlie’s brother.

“Don’t look at me,” Quinn said instantly. “I gave up trying to fight with Charlie long ago, when I realized that in the end I always lost.”

“Wise man,” Rafe said, without inflection. Then he looked back at Cutter. “Interesting,” he said again.

“So it seems,” Hayley agreed—although Gavin had no idea with what—and she didn’t even bother to try to hide her smile.

“We’ve got a case?” Rafe asked.

“Just arrived last night,” Quinn said, and gave Rafe a condensed version of Cutter’s antics and Katie Moore’s arrival as a Foxworth case. “She’s due here in about an hour, and we’ll make the final determination.”

“Need me?”

“Not yet, but come on in, so you’ll be up to speed.”

The dog stayed close to Gavin as they went inside and up the stairs to the big meeting room. He was drawn to the wall of windows looking out over the meadow behind the building. Beyond the clearing the forest stood, the evergreens a backdrop to the brilliant fall color of the deciduous trees as their foliage flamed out before surrendering to winter. Somewhere up there, he knew, a pair of bald eagles had their nest. As a man who had lived his life in cities, he could see the appeal, even as he felt a little out of place. More than eagles roamed the forests in the northwest.