Читать книгу Search And Rescue - Valerie Hansen - Страница 12

THREE

“You’d better get over here, Chief,” rookie officer Shane Weston said, once Ryder answered the phone. “And don’t bring Titus. I think we’ve killed all the snakes but we could have missed one or two.”

“That was what all the ruckus was about? There was enough radio traffic to have handled a small war. I could hardly make out a thing the way you were interrupting each other’s transmissions.”

“Sorry, sir. It was pretty hectic for a while. I’m surprised she managed to keep that dog safe.”

Ryder scowled. “Dog? What are you talking about? Was the call at the training center?”

“No,” Weston said. “I thought you knew. Sophie Williams had a backyard full of rattlers.”

“What? The dispatch was for the corner of Desert Valley and Second, so I didn’t realize they meant her house down the block.” His pulse jumped when he imagined the scene. “I might expect a bunch of snakes gathering like that in the spring but not now. How many were there?”

“Hard to say. We’re still counting. That’s why I called you.”

“Go on.” Ryder was losing patience. With Lily at home and no one to watch her, any action on his part was going to be delayed until he could drop his daughter back with his babysitter, Opal Mullins.

“There’s more. Sophie insists somebody else was here, sneaking up on her. I’m not convinced. The snakes had her cornered in the yard and she was pretty paranoid about it.”

Ryder clutched his phone so tightly his hand throbbed. “Is there a chance they may have been dumped there?”

“I suppose it’s possible,” Shane said. “Some lowlife sure has it in for our head trainer. Since the bullets missed her this morning, I did wonder if they tried to kill her with a batch of rattlers.”

“Kind of hard to plan ahead for an attack like that,” Ryder said. “Although I suppose they might have gathered them to release at the training center and changed their minds.”

“Terrific.” He snorted wryly. “Look, the worst of the danger is over and nobody was bitten. I just thought it would be good to get your input on this. You know how Harmon and Marlton can be when they’re trying to avoid paperwork.”

“Yeah. The sooner they retire the better,” Ryder replied. “I can’t believe Louise didn’t call me right away. Isn’t she covering the desk?”

“Not this late. So, should we hang around? Are you coming out?”

“Yes,” Ryder said. “I’ll have to drop Lily at the babysitter’s. Give me fifteen minutes, tops.”

“Copy,” the rookie officer said as he prepared to end the call. “Wear your boots.”

Ryder looked over at his drowsy, little blonde five-year-old and had to smile. He’d been reading her a bedtime story and she’d laid her head on the cushiony arm of the sofa when he’d stopped to answer the phone.

The sight of such a loving, beautiful child made his heart beat faster, yet constricted his gut as if he’d just taken a body blow. He’d failed to protect her mother. He was not going to fail Lily. The mere concept was abhorrent. This child was his life, his legacy, his and Melanie’s, and nobody was going to harm her. He’d die before he’d let that happen.

He gently rubbed Lily’s bare feet. “Wake up, honey. I have to go out. I’m taking you back to Miss Opal’s.”

“Uh-uh. It’s story time. You can’t go away again.”

Ryder felt guilty and compensated as best he could. “How about we go out for ice cream after I get back?”

That seemed to brighten the child’s mood although she was still making a face. “With sprinkles?”

“If that’s what you want,” Ryder promised. “Now put your shoes on while I get my boots. I need to hurry.”

Lily’s innocent blue eyes focused on him. “What happened, Daddy?”

“A lady found rattlesnakes in her yard.”

“Are you gonna shoot them?”

Ryder couldn’t tell whether the child was asking because she needed reassurance or because she felt sorry for the snakes. “I’m not sure about all of them. I imagine my officers had to shoot some.”

Sadly, she said, “Oh.”

“They had to protect the lady and her dog.”

“Dog? She had a dog?”

“Yes.”

“Like Titus?”

“Uh-huh. Kind of.”

Lily began to smile. “That’s different.” Sitting up, she rested her bare feet on the big yellow Labrador retriever lying against the front edge of the couch and wiggled her toes into his fur. His tail thumped but he didn’t rise. “I love Titus.”

“Me, too,” her father replied with a sigh. There was only one thing worse than having to retire a faithful canine partner and that was losing one in the line of duty. He knew it was time to give the old dog a rest, but he also knew that Titus would brood about being left behind. That was a given.

He reached down and patted the dog’s broad head. “No other dog will ever work as well as you do,” he said soothingly. “I don’t care who says otherwise.”

“Can Titus go with us?”

“Not this time, honey. You know Miss Opal’s cats don’t like to play with him.”

The scowl returned. Nevertheless, the child had her sandals on when Ryder returned wearing his boots.

He held out his hand. “Ready?”

“No.” Lily tossed her blond curls, dropped to her knees and hugged Titus’s furry neck, placed a kiss on the top of his nose, then jumped to her feet. “Okay. Now I am.”

The poignancy of the scene almost choked him up. So did the trusting way she grasped his fingers. Losing Melanie had nearly broken him—would have—if he hadn’t had Lily. Every day that passed he loved her more. And every time he went out on a call he prayed even harder for her continued well-being.

Yes, he could have sent her away when Carrie Dunleavy’s crime spree was uncovered. But that would have meant trusting his little girl to someone else’s care 24/7 and he simply could not do that. No one’s vigilance could be as sufficient as his because nobody could possible love Lily as much as he did. Nobody.

He’d die before he’d let anything happen to her.

* * *

Sophie wondered who in the crowd of officers combing her backyard was going give the all clear. Rookie Ellen Foxcroft was probably at the hospital visiting her comatose mother, Marian, but Shane Weston, Whitney Godwin, James Harrison and Tristan McKeller had responded. They’d done most of the actual work while Eddie Harmon and Dennis Marlton, the old-timers, had stood back and relaxed, occasionally barking an order or chuckling when one of the novices found and dealt with another snake.

“Typical,” she muttered, preparing to call out to either Eddie or Dennis and insist that one of them release her to go back to the house. Before she could, they both straightened and began to feign being busy. That could mean only one thing. The chief was here.

To Sophie’s amazement, the sight of Ryder’s six-foot-two, athletic self brought instant relief and more than a touch of joy. He looked just as good out of uniform, in jeans and a T-shirt, as he always did with his badge on. She waved. “Over here!”

Though he paused to speak with Shane and then James, he didn’t tarry long. Sweeping the beam of a flashlight ahead of him to double-check his path, he came directly to her.

“You okay?”

“I am now,” she replied, having to restrain herself from leaping into his arms like a scared kid. “Thankfully my neighbors heard me shooting and reported trouble. It’s been a very long evening.”

“So they tell me. Why aren’t you and that mutt in the house?”

“Because nobody has given us the all clear.” Scowling, she eyed the part of the yard she could see from her perch. “How bad was it? I heard enough shooting and shouting to last me for the rest of my life.”

A smile quirked at the corners of Ryder’s mouth. “Fortunately, that will be a long time thanks to my officers.” He held out his hand. “Come on. I’ll get you to the house.”

“I’d rather you carried Phoenix, just in case,” Sophie told him. “What if they missed one?”

“Carried him?”

“Yes.” She tried not to smile. “Please?”

Ryder handed her his flashlight and arched a brow. “If he bites me, we send him back where he came from tomorrow. Deal?”

That wasn’t fair. She hadn’t had enough time to fully assess the dog’s quirks. Still, he was eventually going to have to work with the chief and had performed amiably in his initial placement so she nodded. “Okay. Go for it.”

One of the important aspects of Phoenix’s training regimen was going to be reinforcing his ability to adapt to many situations. This would be a good test. She snapped her fingers to get his attention, looked directly into his eyes and held up her hand, palm out. “Phoenix. Stay.”

Although he flinched and tensed when Ryder slipped his arms under him and lifted, he didn’t struggle. Sophie wanted to cheer.

Instead, she dropped to stand beside man and dog, pointed the light toward the house and led the way back to her porch. It was impossible to miss seeing a portion of the carnage as they passed, and its portent made her shiver.

So did the nagging feeling that someone had been watching her while she’d been trapped on the tabletop.

Ryder was spitting dog hair when he bent to lower the Aussie to the kitchen floor. To make matters worse, Phoenix turned in the blink of an eye and gave his cheek a slurp.

Sophie laughed. “Guess he won’t be going back tomorrow.”

“Guess not.” Brushing off his civilian clothes, Ryder made a sour face. “Shedding all over me has never been a problem with Titus.”

“How often do you carry him?” she asked, still chuckling. “He weighs a ton.”

“I could still lift him if I needed to.” Judging by the way the head trainer was eyeing his flexed biceps she wasn’t going to argue. Flattered but slightly embarrassed, he changed the subject. “Let’s talk about this call.”

“Coffee first?” Sophie was already on her way to the counter so he nodded. “Sure.”

“How about the others?”

“I told Weston to inform them they were free to return to the station. I’ll send a team out at first light to clean up and make sure any possible stragglers are gone.”

“Thank you.”

Watching her fill two mugs with hot coffee he hoped she could carry them without spilling, since her hands were shaking so badly. “Want some help?”

“No. I’ve got it. Have a seat. There’s sugar and creamer if you want.”

“Black is fine.” It didn’t escape Ryder’s notice that the new dog had made itself at home beneath the kitchen table and was sniffing his boots. For an animal that was supposed to be painfully shy, it seemed pretty mellow.

“Looks like you’ve made a friend,” Sophie remarked as she joined him and slid one of the mugs across the table.

“Apparently. All I had to do was rescue him.”

“And me. Thank you again.”

“You’re safe in here.”

He saw her suppress a tremor as she replied, “For now.”

He eyed the slick floor, checking shadows beneath the edge of the lower cabinets and next to the stove and refrigerator to be certain they were clear. “Do you want me to inspect the house for you?”

Sophie shook her head. “That won’t be necessary. The rookies already checked. Phoenix will sense any new danger. He’s the one who alerted me about the yard.”

“Then why in the world did you go out?”

As he watched, she lowered her gaze and began to pick at a nonexistent spot on the tabletop. That was enough to open Ryder’s eyes for the second time that day.

He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry for raising my voice, Sophie. I was just worried.”

“I know.” She breathed a noisy sigh. “It’s been a rough evening and I put your dog in danger by not being vigilant enough. You’re entitled to be upset.”

Reaching for one of her trembling hands he grasped it gently. “Who said anything about the dog?”

The small kitchen seemed to shrink until all Sophie was conscious of was the strong man seated across from her. He was just being kind, she knew, yet it was awfully nice of him to hold her hand. She could certainly use the moral support.

“I’ve never been so scared in all my life,” she admitted, blinking back unshed tears. “I took care of the big one Phoenix saw first and others near the picnic table but there were so many...”

“I know.”

“And there was something else. Did your men tell you I thought there was somebody hiding and watching me while I was stranded?”

“Yes. Any idea who it might have been?”

“None. The only reason I suspected it at all was because of the way the dog bristled. I wasn’t sure but he was. That’s good enough for me.”

“Maybe someone heard you shooting and came to see why.”

Sophie scowled. “Or maybe they were already there and hoping I’d use up all my ammo and be defenseless.” She trembled. “I almost did.”

Feeling him squeezing her fingers a little more, she pulled her hand away. It was time to stop thinking and reacting on a personal level. She was a trained professional. She’d better start behaving like one.

Sophie sat up taller in her chair and took a sip from her mug. “All right. We can either assume it was Carrie sneaking around, unhappy that I’ve been talking too much to you lately, or we can look for somebody else. You and the team believe that Carrie likely didn’t have an accomplice because of the journal and so-called shrine you found at her place, right?”

“Right.”

His jaw muscles knotted visibly as he spoke, and when he clasped his hands in front of him on the table, Sophie noticed his muscles flexing. She was entitled to be upset because of her recent ordeal but Ryder had a much deeper reason. After all, Carrie’s collection of memorabilia about her victims had included more than just pictures and clippings of the two blond rookies she’d killed because they’d reminded her of him. A central feature was Melanie Hayes, Ryder’s late wife. Photographs and newspaper clippings on Melanie lined a wall of Carrie’s bedroom. But no one figured more prominently than Ryder Hayes himself.

Empathy filled her and she placed her hand lightly atop his clenched fists. Although he flinched, he didn’t withdraw until she said, “I apologize, Ryder.”

“For what?”

“For being insensitive to your loss.”

“Never mind that. Right now, we need to be thinking about who’s trying to hurt you. Start talking.”

“About what?”

“Anything. Everything. You might explain why a raised voice bothers you so much.”

“I never said it did.”

“You didn’t have to.”

“Hey, I passed my psych eval.”

He didn’t reply immediately and she wondered what painful questions he’d ask next. Until now she’d managed to quell her adverse reactions to triggers that mentally transported her back to her abusive childhood and she’d just as soon not awaken those feelings further.

“All right,” he finally said. “Let’s talk about the night your partner was shot and why you quit the force after that.”

“I’d rather not.”

He propped his elbows on the table and leaned forward. “I don’t think you have a choice, Sophie. We have to start somewhere and that’s as good a place as any. Did you receive any death threats after that incident?”

“Police officers are always being threatened,” she insisted. “Almost nobody follows through.”

“Maybe this guy is the exception. Criminals can be very vindictive.”

The truth stuck in her throat. Was it possible Wes’s brother had made good on his wild threats and come after her at this late date? Why now and not sooner? Part of her mind wanted to brush away suspicion while another part felt as if the upcoming anniversary of Wes’s death might hold the answer. To voice that, however, was repugnant. The poor man and his family had suffered enough without blaming them needlessly and causing more pain.

Ryder had been studying her. “I want you to make a list of possible suspects. Don’t leave anybody out no matter how innocent you think they may be. Understand?”

She nodded as she noted his darkening mood and resigned herself to complying. “I’ll do it, but I don’t think you realize how difficult it will be for me.”

As soon as the words left her mouth she knew she’d inadvertently been insensitive again.

Ryder’s demeanor changed in a heartbeat. His eyes flashed, his jaw clamped and he stood so rapidly he almost knocked his chair over backward. Even before he said a word Sophie knew he was angry.

“Difficult?” he began. “You want to know what’s difficult? Looking at my wife’s picture posted with Carrie’s other victims and remembering how blind I was to the evil that was right under my nose every day. That’s difficult.”

She wanted to tell him how sorry she was, how sympathetic, but she knew better than to offer platitudes when he was upset so she clasped her hands around her coffee mug and remained silent. In seconds he’d turned and stormed out the door.

Ryder was absolutely right. His loss was worse than hers in many ways. Not only had he lost his beloved Melanie and been left to raise their baby alone, he blamed himself for not considering his wife’s killer could be a colleague. Carrie had presented such a mild-mannered facade they’d all been fooled.

As Sophie started to clear the table she recalled Ryder’s outburst and froze in place. He’d raised his voice again. And sounded furious. So why wasn’t she shaking like a leaf?

A glance toward the closed door allowed her to envision him slamming it behind him. No panic ensued. As a matter of fact, there were surprisingly warm and tender feelings flowing over and through her.

She closed her eyes and leaned on the table with both hands. Something momentous had happened tonight and it had nothing to do with snakes, at least not directly.

The emotional healing she had prayed for since she was a child had apparently begun. The scary question was, Why?

An even more disquieting answer came in the form of the admirable chief of police whose raised voice no longer set her nerves on edge. Why not? What had made the difference?

Phoenix came out from under the table and bumped her leg, wagging his tail and panting as he looked up expectantly. That gave Sophie her answer. She wasn’t afraid of Ryder for the same reason Phoenix had accepted her.

Trust. Plain, old, heartfelt trust.

And to nurture those feelings between herself and the chief she’d eventually have to break down and name her deceased partner’s disruptive brother Stan as one of her suspects.

She couldn’t expect Ryder to reflect her growing sense of trust if she weren’t totally honest with him.

Starting immediately.

A shiver sang up her spine and prickled at the nape of her neck. When Wes had died she’d blamed herself even more than Stan had blamed her, so his tirade at the grave site had seemed fitting.

In retrospect, it had been a lot worse than she’d realized. It wasn’t merely his voice, because the threat had been whispered. It was his eyes.

There had been hate sizzling in his gaze. Hate and murderous fury. The kind that lasted. Simmered. And sometimes boiled over.