Читать книгу Operation Blind Date - Justine Davis - Страница 13

Chapter 4

“Amber has never been that drunk in her entire life,” Laney said firmly. “Pepper was her pet for eighteen years, from childhood, and she adored her. She cried for months when she died.”

It wasn’t much to go on. But even Teague had to admit that three such mistakes in a text message fifty characters long was a bit much. Even drunk on her ass, would Amber have forgotten Pepper was a cat not a dog, a she not a he, and that she had died a decade ago?

Teague glanced down at Cutter, still ensconced on the floor with his head on Laney’s foot, as if to hold her there until the story was out. He tried to imagine, even drunk, ever forgetting about the dog.

Nope. Impossible. And he’s not even my dog.

“Are there more?” he asked.

She nodded. “None as obviously wrong as that one, but some. Read through them. I cleared out all the non-Amber ones.”

He wondered for a moment if there had been some from a boyfriend. But she had said she hadn’t been attracted to this Edward, implying if she had been, perhaps she might not have said no. So there couldn’t be a boyfriend. Unless she was the juggling type. He didn’t think so. If nothing else, he suspected she didn’t have time.

And none of that was in the slightest bit relevant, he reminded himself.

He focused on the series of texts. Most seemed innocuous to him, something about being late for the office and catching up later, one about wanting to buy a new car, and a final one about jetting off to Canada. Nothing jumped out at him, but then nothing would have about the first one, either.

He didn’t have to ask. The moment he looked up, Laney ran through a list. “Except for days when she meets with clients, Amber works from home. She bought a new car late last year, and the process exhausted her so much she plans on keeping it at least ten years. And she absolutely hates to fly. Canada’s way too close to get her on an airplane.”

“You told the police all this?”

“Yes.” She let out a compressed breath. “Their answer was people newly in love do things they might not otherwise. And I can’t argue with that. Especially Amber. She’s always...impulsive, especially with men. More than me, anyway.”

Teague filed that self-observation from Laney away in the “might be good to remember” slot in his mind. Even as he did it, he silently chastised himself; he needed to be paying attention, not...whatever he was doing.

She lowered her gaze to the painted surface of the small, round table. There was something scratched into the surface, something Teague couldn’t read upside down because of the angular shape and unevenness of the letters. A name, perhaps. Carved by somebody as infatuated as Laney said Amber got?

“It’s my fault,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I was even glad when he seemed even more interested in Amber than he had been in me, after I’d said no all those times.”

“Laney—”

She picked at the scratched name with a thumbnail. “I told her to go. That he seemed like a nice guy.”

“Did you lie? Did you really think he was a bad guy?”

Her head snapped up. “No! I would never—”

She cut herself off, giving a short, abrupt shake of her head.

“I brought them together. She never would have met him if not for me. I still feel responsible. Maybe that doesn’t make sense, but...”

Teague stared at her for a long, silent moment, fighting down the memories that battered at him. “I get it. Believe me, I get it.”

When he refocused, Laney was staring at him. “You do, don’t you.” The way she said it wasn’t a question. “You lost somebody, didn’t you?”

“My sister. Years ago.” And yesterday. “But Amber is now. Let’s stay there.”

For a moment he thought she might persist. And he wasn’t about to talk about Terri. He’d talked to no one about her in a very long time, except Quinn, and then only because he’d known he had to be thoroughly honest during the long vetting process for going to work at Foxworth.

As if Teague just thinking the name Foxworth had roused him, Cutter got up. He turned from Laney to look up at him. When he was certain he had Teague’s attention, he walked toward where his car was parked. After a few steps he stopped and looked back over his shoulder at both of them.

Teague sighed.

“I guess he’s finally bored and ready to go,” Laney said. She stood up. “Thanks for listening to my...conspiracy theory.”

Teague slowly rose as well, but said nothing. He had a theory of his own about Cutter’s sudden movement. A year ago he would have laughed at the idea, but after seeing the dog in action for months now, he knew better.

“Maybe I’ll see you again, if he keeps getting into messes,” she said with a creditable attempt at cheerfulness.

Cutter yipped. Short, sharp and to the point. Laney smiled. “Now he’s impatient. You’d better go.”

“I’ll try,” Teague said. “I think he’s got other ideas.”

Her forehead creased. “What do you mean?”

“Wait and see.”

He started to follow Cutter back toward his car. The dark gray SUV was parked about twenty feet away. He made it five before Cutter reacted.

Tail up, ears alert, the dog turned back. He trotted toward him, then right past him, just as Teague had expected. He stopped in front of a surprised Laney, nudged her hand, then tried the walk and look back routine again.

“What is he doing?” she asked.

“I think,” Teague said with a wry quirk of his mouth, “he’s saying it’s time for us to go tell your story to Foxworth.”

* * *

This was, without a doubt, the craziest thing she’d ever seen.

She loved dogs, she’d worked with them for years now, but she’d never seen one act like Cutter before. Except maybe in movies or on TV, where the animal did what it was trained to do, no more thought process behind it than a willingness and a need to please.

But this, this was all Cutter’s doing, born out of his obviously uncanny canine brain. He had a Plan, Teague had said, and woe be unto the human who didn’t get that.

She liked him for that, Laney thought. One of the many things she could like him for; he was a good listener, he didn’t laugh at her or make her feel as if she were being silly, to be humored, sent on her way and then forgotten.

Of course, there were the blue eyes, the lean, strong build, the air of quiet confidence, the easy grace and that smile...oh, yes, that smile.

She tried to shake off the feeling that was growing. She had no time for this. She needed to focus on Amber, on finding her, even if she had to do it alone.

But Teague was saying she might not have to do it alone.

“I can’t promise anything, except that they’ll listen. And take you seriously.”

Her first instinct was to doubt that. But Teague had done just that, hadn’t he? He would hardly take her to his boss if he didn’t think there was something to her suspicions, would he?

“I can’t afford to hire anyone.”

“If Foxworth takes it on, it won’t cost you.”

“So Foxworth is a charity?”

“It is, in some ways. In other ways, it’s something completely different. Come on, lock up and I’ll explain on the way.”

“But—”

He gestured at Cutter, who was pacing now, from where they stood outside her shop to Teague’s car and back. “You might as well give in, because he’s not going to give up.”

“So you’re saying you’re letting a dog boss you around?”

He grinned suddenly. It took her breath away. “Yep.”

She found herself grinning back, unable to stop it.

She went back into the shop, Cutter on her heels. He truly wasn’t going to let up until she followed him. She went into the small bathroom and quickly switched her scrubs for the jeans and lightweight cabled sweater she’d worn in this morning, grabbed up her keys and her slouchy bag and headed back out. She flipped the Open sign to Closed and locked the front door.

Cutter was clearly happier now, and she followed him back to where Teague was waiting. The SUV obediently chirped twice as Teague unlocked it and he opened the passenger door for her, the door behind it for Cutter, who leaped in then turned on the seat to look at her expectantly. She was nearly laughing as she got in.

Teague walked around and slid into the driver’s seat. Cutter let out a soft, clearly happy woof.

“You got what you wanted,” Teague said to the dog. “Way back.”

Without hesitation the dog jumped over the back of the seats into the cargo area of the SUV.

“Safer for him back there,” Teague said as he turned the key.

“This is insane,” she said as she fastened her seat belt.

“Yep.”

“He’s a dog.”

“Maybe.”

Laney laughed out loud. The relief of having someone actually listen to her worries must have made her giddy.

“Foxworth,” she began.

“Is the most amazing place, full of the most amazing people I’ve ever met.”

“Doing what, exactly?”

“A little bit of everything,” Teague said. “But it’s all aimed at one single goal.”

“Which is?”

He glanced at her as they were caught by a light turning red, the newest of the three signals in the small town. He’d pulled into the left turn lane, heading away from the main road toward the next, bigger town.

“Helping people in the right, when they have nowhere else to turn.”

She blinked. “That’s...quite a goal.”

“We do what should be done but isn’t, for whatever reason.”

“You must have hoards pounding on your doors,” she said wryly.

“We work only on referral,” he said. “We don’t advertise.”

“Then how did you find them?”

His mouth quirked upward at one corner, as if he liked the question. “I didn’t. They found me. There was this online military forum, and some of us got into some pretty heavy discussions. I used to post a lot. Turns out it was monitored by Foxworth, and they noticed. Thought I might be a good fit.”

So she’d been right about the military air. But she thought she heard something else in his voice as well. “You miss it,” she said.

“I do. I was a marine,” he said, as if that answered all. Perhaps, to him, it did. “The corps was the greatest fighting force in the world.”

She wasn’t sure what the past tense referred to, but there was a finality in his voice that kept her from asking. Or asking why he’d left, if he loved it so much.

“So Foxworth, what, recruited you?”

He shrugged. “It was pretty clear I wasn’t happy with the way things were going. I wasn’t re-upping, anyway. I didn’t know what I would do. They gave me an alternative.”

“So now you work for Quinn?”

“Yes. And Foxworth is a private foundation, so the only limits on what we can do are our own.”

“And now you sound very...proprietary.”

He gave her a sideways glance, and she saw that grin flash across his face again. It had the same effect it had had before. He answered as the light finally changed and they made the left turn.

“Yeah, I guess I am. We do good work. I’m proud to be part of it.”

She liked that. So many people just griped about their jobs all the time. “How long have you been there?”

“I’m the new guy. Only two years—three if you count the vetting process—but I’m there as long as they’ll have me.”

She drew back slightly. “A vetting that lasts an entire year?”

He nodded. “Quinn and Charlie Foxworth are very, very particular.”

“They run the foundation?”

He nodded as they slowed for a truckload of topsoil pulling out of a side driveway. “It’s a family thing. Quinn’s idea, mostly, but Charlie makes it possible.” He grinned again. “It’s nice to have a financial and logistical genius in the family, I guess.”

“Are there more Foxworths?”

“Just them,” Teague said, sounding suddenly solemn. “Their folks were killed in the Lockerbie bombing. Charlie’s a little older than Quinn, and raised him after that. It’s why Quinn started the foundation. He hated feeling so helpless when it happened, even though he was just a little kid. And when they let the guy go, he was so furious he vowed to try to help people who felt like he did, helpless to do anything about whatever injustice had befallen them.”

“He turned his anger to good use.”

“Yes.”

He slowed the car then, and Laney realized she hadn’t been paying much attention to where they were. She felt a little pang of unease. She was putting a lot of faith in his connection to Hayley, and the fact that Cutter clearly liked and trusted him. And now she was out in a remote area she didn’t know well, with a man she’d just met. Her unease grew as he turned into a narrow driveway that wound through thick trees.

It hit her then that perhaps Amber had been the same way. Too trusting. Because her best friend had said a guy seemed nice to her and she should give him a shot.

Guilt flooded her again, and she shivered under the force of it.

There was no getting around it. If Amber was in real trouble, or worse, it was her fault.