Читать книгу The Military K-9 Unit Collection - Valerie Hansen - Страница 34
ОглавлениеIn the bright morning light that had her squinting, Felicity followed the smell of brewing coffee and spicy sausage into the kitchen. She halted on the threshold.
Her sleep-fogged brain processed the sight of Dakota lying by the back door. He lifted his head from his chew bone and wagged his tail in greeting, while Westley stood at the stove wearing her father’s black barbecue apron over his battle-ready pants and a white T-shirt that molded to the hard planes and angles of his chest and back. His dark hair was spiky on top and his strong jaw was shadowed by stubble.
The pull of attraction zinged through her veins. Beneath her fresh battle-ready uniform, a blush warmed her skin.
He glanced her way. Appreciation gleamed in his blue eyes and he flashed her a crooked grin. “Hope you like chorizo and eggs. It’s all I could find that was edible in your refrigerator besides salad dressing.”
“Smells delicious.” Stifling the urge to flip back her hair, she walked to the coffeemaker and poured herself a mug before taking a seat at the counter. “I haven’t been shopping in a while.”
“We’ll remedy that today,” he commented as he turned off the flame beneath the fry pan.
Having only seen him eat prepared meals, she said, “I didn’t know you cooked.”
“I can on occasion.” He dished out the steaming scrambled eggs and sausage onto two plates.
“My dad taught me the basics, enough that I can get by.” She let out a wry laugh. “I’m still not comfortable with a steak or fish.”
“I can show you how to grill a flawless steak or poach a fish to perfection.”
Somehow his words didn’t strike her as a boast, but were simply a statement of fact. The man knew how to do things.
“That would be great.” The idea of him giving her a cooking lesson thrilled her more than she cared to admit. “Did your mother teach you?”
Westley set a plate in front of her along with a fork and stared at her a moment before replying. “One of my foster mothers was a gourmet chef and she made it a point to teach each kid that came through her home how to cook. She made cooking fun and interesting. She let us experiment with food and spices and such.”
Absorbing his words, Felicity wasn’t sure what to say. Remembering how he’d shut her down yesterday when she’d asked about his father, she hesitated probing further. But then again, he’d volunteered the information. She could hear the fondness in his voice as he spoke of the foster parent who’d taken the time to teach him to cook, but she couldn’t help but hurt for his lack of a normal childhood. “How many foster homes were you in?”
Carrying his plate, he came around the island and sat beside her. “Four.”
Her hurt for him quadrupled. “How old were you when you entered the system?”
“Ten.”
But his father hadn’t passed on until Westley was seventeen, she recalled. Obviously, there was more to the story there. Curiosity drove her to ask another question. “What happened to your parents?”
“Let’s bless this food and eat it before it gets cold,” he said.
She bowed her head. “Dear Lord, bless this food to our bodies and our bodies to Your service. Amen.”
When she raised her gaze, she found Westley staring at her.
“My dad’s blessing,” she explained.
“I like it.” He shoveled a forkful of egg and sausage into his mouth.
He wasn’t going to make it easy to get him to open up. And for the life of her she couldn’t understand why it was so important that he did. Granted, they would be together, close together, for the foreseeable future and she was putting her life in his hands. Trusting him to have her back.
Getting to know each other better seemed logical. Practical. It would deepen the trust between them. But she could be patient. Letting the subject drop for now, she ate, enjoying the heat of the meat-infused eggs.
After her last bite, she sighed with contentment. “My dad would make this combo on Saturday mornings. My mom didn’t like the spiciness. But I love it. Thank you so much.”
“I guessed as much last night when you asked for extra jalapeños in your tacos. And you’re welcome.”
She grinned. “I own stock in antacids.”
His laugh was rich and deep and shuddered through her with a delicious wave of warmth.
His cell phone rang. He set his fork on his empty plate and excused himself to take the call. He opened the back door, letting Dakota outside while he stepped onto the porch. Felicity could hear the low murmur of his voice as she washed their dishes and the frying pan, then set them on the drying rack next to the sink.
Westley returned to the kitchen. “That was Justin. The meeting has been moved up. We need to get to base command pronto.”
“Let me just brush my teeth and I’ll be ready to go.” She hurried upstairs, forcing from her mind all thoughts of cooking lessons, foster homes and delicious male laughter. She needed to stay focused.
After securing her hair into a regulation braid with the ends tucked out of sight under her beret, she finished getting ready. She paused on the landing to the stairs. Below, Westley had squatted down to Dakota and was rubbing him behind the ears. The dog’s eyes practically rolled back into his head with pleasure. Her insides melted a little at the show of affection between dog and man. And some part of her yearned to have that same sort of attention directed to her.
She nearly snorted aloud at the ridiculous thought. Get a grip, she told herself. Just because Westley was being nice to her while he was forced to have her underfoot didn’t mean she had to go all mushy about him. Still, she couldn’t deny the tender feelings growing in her heart. She ached at the thought that he’d grown up in foster care. She wondered why. What had happened to put him in that position?
Patience, she reminded herself. Her father always said she had a gift for getting others to open up. She’d redirected that ability to the dogs while working with them. Eventually, she’d crack Westley’s hard shell and work the story out of him. She only hoped she was brave enough to handle whatever she found inside.
* * *
Westley held open the door to base command for Felicity to enter before him. Carrying her camera bag over her shoulder, she smiled her thanks to him as she passed to enter the building. She had a great smile that reached her blue-green eyes. Something he’d tried hard in the past not to notice because he’d been her commanding officer.
Right now, though, he let himself take all of her in, including the vanilla scent wafting from her hair. This morning when she’d come downstairs for breakfast she’d worn the long strands loose and swinging before she’d braided it and tucked up under her beret. He liked that she wore a minimal amount of makeup, just enough to highlight her already pretty features.
He gave himself a mental shake as they were ushered into the conference room. He needed to keep his head in the game and ignore the attraction and affection for Felicity building in his chest. He couldn’t believe he’d confessed he’d been in foster care. Revealing such intimate details of his past hadn’t been intentional, yet talking about the woman who’d taught him to cook to Felicity had come easily. It distressed him how easy a lot of things were with Felicity.
The conference room was filled, every chair at the table taken. Ian leaned against the wall and nodded in greeting as Westley and Felicity took positions beside him. Base commander Lieutenant General Hall seated at the head of the long table, held up a hand to gain the room’s attention.
To the right of the lieutenant general sat FBI agent Oliver Davison and to the lieutenant general’s left was Justin. Also seated at the table were Linc, Ethan and several other members of the Security Forces.
Westley was surprised to see Ethan Webb’s ex-wife, Jillian Masters, seated at the table as well. She wore her US Marine dress uniform and a scowl on her face. Apparently, she wasn’t on base by choice. Westley met Ethan’s gaze. The tension in his friend’s eyes was palpable.
Also at the table, seated next to Justin, was a pretty redhead dressed in civilian clothes and clearly very pregnant, while a tall, imposing man, also a civilian by the looks of his Western-style jeans and button-down shirt, stood behind her with his hands on the back of her chair.
“Let’s get this briefing going,” Lieutenant General Hall said. “I’d like to introduce Deputy Sheriff Serena Hargrove and her husband, Jason Hargrove, former Dallas PD. Together with Deputy Hargrove’s K-9, they brought down Boyd Sullivan the first go-round.”
A murmur rippled through the room. Westley had read the news reports of how the deputy and her K-9 partner, an English springer spaniel trained in wilderness air search, had tracked Boyd to a remote cabin in the Texas Hill Country. He’d like to talk to the officer about her canine and look in to adding the specialized work to the training center. But that would have to wait until life returned to normal. As long as Sullivan was on the loose, Westley’s focus was to protect Felicity.
“Deputy, what can you tell us about Boyd?” Lieutenant General Hall asked.
The woman’s lips twisted. “He has a sick mind, but make no mistake, he is intelligent and sly. He doesn’t do anything without careful planning. And his ego is as big as the State of Texas.”
Lieutenant Preston Flanigan, one of the Security Forces members, leaned forward. “How did you manage to catch him?”
Preston had been in the last K-9 training session. Westley thought the young cop was a bit too impatient, but hoped the guy would chill eventually. He’d have to if he hoped to be a K-9 handler.
Serena spared him a glance then focused back on Lieutenant General Hall. “Boyd hadn’t expected my partner, Ginger. She’s small, but mighty. She caught him by surprise and distracted him long enough for me to apprehend him.”
“I was there,” Oliver said. “I can vouch that Serena and her little dog acted bravely. The arrest was a good one.”
“Do you think that’s why he messed with the kennels and released all the dogs? Hoped we’d be too busy recovering them to search for him?” Linc said.
Jason Hargrove spoke up. “Having spent more time with Sullivan than I care to ever repeat, I can tell you he believes he can outsmart anyone. I have no doubt he thought the chaos would afford him time and opportunity to move freely.”
“Which it did,” Justin stated. “Did Boyd have a partner in Dill?”
Serena shook her head. “Not that we know of. There was no indication of one.”
Lieutenant General Hall’s gaze zeroed on Ian. “What about the cook?”
“The medical examiner says cause of death was strangulation,” Ian replied.
“Stephen Butler’s ID badge was used to gain access at the south gate at oh-four-hundred,” Justin explained. “We’re still working on how Boyd got off the base after the attacks.”
“Are we sure he left?” Ethan asked. “Just because the news reported sightings of him, we can’t know for sure if he’s off base or not.” His gaze slid to his ex-wife and then away.
Jillian’s lips twisted, but the woman made no comment.
Justin nodded. “That’s true. Which is why the base is on high alert with extra security at the gates. And Baylor Marine Base is also coordinating their effort with ours to find the escaped prisoner before he hurts anyone else.”
Lieutenant General Hall rose. “I want Sullivan found. And the person who is helping him. Am I clear?”
A chorus of “Yes, sir” filled the room.
“Dismissed,” Lieutenant General Hall said. He turned to the two civilians. “Thank you for coming all this way.”
“I wish we could be more help,” the deputy said as her husband helped her to her feet.
Felicity leaned close to whisper in Westley’s ear. “We should talk to her about wilderness air-search training.”
Having her echo his earlier thought made him grin. “Good idea.”
She held his gaze for a moment. Something flared in her eyes before she quickly looked away. A slight pink tinged her cheeks. He wasn’t sure what he’d seen. Approval? Attraction? Disconcerted, he pushed aside the thought and followed the Hargroves out of the conference room.
After introducing himself and Felicity, he said, “I would love to hear about the wilderness air-search training you did with your K-9 partner.”
“If you give me your contact info, I can put you in touch with the trainer that we used,” Serena said.
“I’d appreciate that.” He gave her his cell-phone number and email address then bid them goodbye.
Westley escorted Felicity to the photo lab for her new assignment.
“Deputy Hargrove looked like she was uncomfortable,” Felicity said. “She has to be close to her due date.”
Westley made a noncommittal noise. He didn’t know anything about due dates or pregnancies in humans. Dog gestation periods he understood.
Setting her camera bag on an empty desk, Felicity peered at him with curiosity shining in her eyes. “Do you ever think you’ll have your own kids?”
“Me?” He nearly choked on the word. “No. What about you?”
She shrugged. “Maybe. If I find the right man to share my life with.”
He told himself to forget it. It was none of his business but the words flowed off his tongue before he could stop himself. “Ever been close to walking down the aisle?”
She let out a laugh that was half bitter and half self-effacing. “Hardly.” A flicker of hurt crossed her face before she turned away to busy herself unpacking her bag. He didn’t like to think some guy had caused her pain.
“Why do you say it like that?”
She shrugged. “I haven’t found anyone I click with, I guess. The men I’ve dated were disappointing.” Her lips twisted. “Or rather I was the disappointment. Maybe my expectations are too high.”
He couldn’t imagine anyone being disappointed in her. She was fun and smart, and pretty. “You have criteria?”
She smiled faintly. “Yes. I want sparks,” she said. “I want to be loved as I am. I want to share my faith as well as my life with the man I give my heart to.”
“Those sound reasonable,” he murmured. He wondered if she felt the sparks that he did whenever they were together. Probably not.
It was best not to let himself put too much stock in his attraction to the lovely sergeant. Their situation was temporary. They both had jobs to do. And when the killers—Boyd and the person who murdered her father—were arrested and locked away, Westley and Felicity would return to the training center and life would resume as before. And if he kept telling himself that eventually he’d make it happen.
She peered at him with curiosity shining in her eyes. “What about you?”
He should have expected the question. His stomach twisted. “Marriage isn’t something I plan on tackling.”
She frowned. “Why not?”
How could he explain he was afraid his father and mother’s pattern of behavior would somehow play out in his life? That he wouldn’t ever risk letting anyone close enough to find out?
The door to the photo lab opened and Commander Lieutenant General Hall walked in, saving Westley from replying. Westley and Felicity snapped to attention and saluted.
Lieutenant General Hall returned the salute. “At ease.”
Relaxing, Westley moved aside to allow the lieutenant general to address Felicity.
“I see you’re settling in,” Lieutenant General Hall commented.
“Just starting to, sir,” she said.
“You know your assignment?”
“Take as many photos as possible all over base in the hope I capture Boyd’s image,” she replied. “Or his interest.”
Westley’s gut clenched at her words. He’d be with her, by her side to protect her, but it didn’t make stomaching the fact that she was being dangled out like a piece of squid to hook a shark any more appealing.
Lieutenant General Hall clapped her on the shoulder. “You’ve got heart, Staff Sergeant Monroe. Your father would be very proud of you.”
Surprise marched across her face before her expression softened. “Thank you, sir. That means a lot to me.”
Westley wondered why she always appeared amazed when anyone mentioned her father’s pride in her.
“Sir, I’d like to carry a service weapon,” Felicity said.
Lieutenant General Hall frowned. “Only Security Forces personnel are allowed to carry on base. It would raise too many questions if the base photographer carried.”
Westley sensed her frustration. He could appreciate her need to have a sidearm. But she would have to be content to have him and Dakota at her side.
“Master Sergeant James,” Lieutenant General Hall said, focusing his eagle-eyed gaze on Westley. “I trust you and your dog will keep Staff Sergeant Monroe from harm?”
Squaring his shoulders, Westley met Lieutenant General Hall with a level gaze. “Of course, sir. With our lives.”
Westley heard Felicity’s sharp inhale but he kept his attention on Lieutenant General Hall.
“Very good. Keep my office informed and be careful.” Lieutenant General Hall left the room.
Once the door closed, Felicity stepped close and scrutinized him with a pinched brow. “Did you mean that?”
He blinked, unsure what she referred to. Was she jumping back to their conversation about marriage? “Excuse me?”
“That you’d protect me with your life?”
Relieved by the question, he nodded. “Absolutely.”
Looking pleased, she grabbed her camera. “Then we’d best get to it.”
* * *
Felicity had been the base photographer for two days and she loved it. Some of the photos would be used for PR, others for the base newsletter, website and social media.
She loved the freedom to roam unfettered, to capture moments that might otherwise go unnoticed. Loved the joy of not having to be exacting with the lighting and the composition of the shots, but rather catching unposed, unscripted action shots of airmen going about their day, or contemplative images of the various personnel across the expanse of the base.
And having Westley and Dakota at her side, knowing they had her back, allowed her to focus on the camera.
They stopped at the edge of the training obstacle course, where a basic military-training unit ran through the obstacles. She adjusted the f-stop and clicked off a multitude of shots. And she knew that some were spectacular. Not all, but there would be some she’d be proud of. Over the last two days it seemed she’d taken more pictures than she had her whole life. The SD card was nearly full. They’d taken a few breaks to eat lunch, to let Dakota rest and to use the facilities. Soon they would stop for the day and head back to base command.
A gust of wind whipped her hair into her eyes. Her braid had completely fallen apart over an hour ago, so she’d tied her hair back with a rubber band, but the ends were still giving her grief in the Texas breeze.
“Here. Hold this.” She handed her camera to Westley so she could free up her hands. Then she adjusted the strap of her camera bag across her body into a more comfortable position.
After securing her hair into a bun at her nape, she took the camera back and lifted the lens to her eye, clicking through more shots. Something in the background moved in the woods beyond the young airmen. She zoomed in.
A tan dog peeked out from around the trunk of a tree. Her heart rate ticked up. “Westley, there’s a Belgian about forty meters straight out behind the tree with the crooked top.”
She handed him the camera so he could use the lens to see what she had. “Niko.”
Taking the camera back, she said, “You should go get him.”
“We’ll go get him,” he countered. “Come on.”
Inordinately pleased by his inclusion of her even though she knew he simply wanted her near for her safety, she jogged with him and Dakota to the wooded area that made up the back part of the base.
Westley whistled, catching the dog’s attention. “Niko. Come.”
The dog hesitated. Felicity was afraid the dog would bolt. From her camera bag she grabbed the banana she’d taken from the commissary at lunch. She unpeeled the fruit and then broke off a piece. Holding it in her hand so that it was visible to the dog, she dangled it low against her thigh. “Come. Treat.”
Niko’s nose twitched, then he was loping toward her, clearly wanting the offered banana. As soon as his mouth touched the fruit, Westley grabbed Niko’s collar.
Westley met her gaze. “Well done.”
She blinked. For a moment her old defenses rose, making her wonder if he was mocking her after the tirade she’d heaped on his head about being stingy with his praise, but his expression was open and his approval appeared genuine. She grinned. “Thank you.”
Westley threaded Dakota’s lead through Niko’s collar so the two dogs were tied together. “Let’s get this guy to the vet and make sure he’s okay.”
They loaded the dogs into Westley’s vehicle and drove to the other side of the base. The vet checked out the dog and declared him slightly dehydrated but otherwise in good health. Felicity was thankful. She worried about the remaining missing dogs and prayed they would be found soon.
“They’ll start making their way back. Just like Niko did,” Westley told her as if he sensed her anxious thoughts.
Strange that in such a short time they would be so connected, she thought. “I’m sure you’re right.”
After dropping Niko off with Caleb at the training center and feeding Dakota dinner, Felicity was anxious to get the photos uploaded so she could go home and put her feet up.
Once they arrived back at base command, she made quick work of uploading the images and sending them to the FBI database. As she settled into the passenger seat of Westley’s vehicle, she yawned.
“Don’t fall asleep on me yet,” Westley told her. “We’ve got to go to the BX and buy some more groceries.”
She groaned. “Can’t we order something to go?”
He let out a scoffing laugh. “I have a feeling you do that often.”
“It’s easier,” she admitted. Most nights she was too tired to bother with making her own food.
“Fine. How about a hamburger and fries?”
“I’ll take a hamburger and a salad,” she countered.
They drove to the nearest burger joint located near the BX, ordered and headed back to her house. He unpacked the takeout bag while she filled glasses with water and snagged her favorite salad dressing from the refrigerator. Westley blessed their meal, and then dug in to his burger and fries.
She shook the bottle of dressing before pouring a generous amount over the lettuce and assorted vegetables.
Westley raised an eyebrow. “Drowning your greens, huh?”
A low rumble emanated from Dakota’s throat. His gaze was on Felicity. She made a face. “What’s he doing?”
“I don’t know,” Westley said. “Dakota, sit.”
The dog continued to stare at her while he obeyed the command.
Stabbing her fork into the salad, she took a bite.
Dakota barked and jumped onto the table. Using his nose, he knocked her salad to the floor, making a huge mess.
“Hey!” she protested.
Dakota put his nose to Felicity’s mouth and whined. She held herself still, unsure what was happening. Would the dog attack? She couldn’t wrap her mind around his strange behavior.
Westley scrambled out of his chair and grabbed Dakota by the collar and yanked him to the floor. “I’ve never seen him do that before.”
Felicity’s stomach roiled. Sweat broke out across her body. “I’m going to be sick.”
She clamped a hand over her mouth and swallowed convulsively.
“Felicity!”
She heard Westley’s voice, heard the panic, the fear, but she couldn’t respond as the world titled, swam out of focus. She listed to the side, sliding off the chair onto the floor, but the impact barely registered. Her mind screamed a warning. Something was wrong. Very, very wrong.
