Clark Kathy - After Love 1 ENG

After Love is a work of fiction. Names, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. A Loveswept eBook Original Copyright © 2016 by Kathy Clark Excerpt from Almost Forever by Kathy Clark copyright © 2016 by Kathy Clark All rights reserved. Published in the United States by Loveswept, an imprint of Random House, a division of Penguin Random House LLC, New Y ork. LOVESWEPT is a registered trademark and the LOVESWEPT colophon is a trademark of Penguin Random House LLC. This book contains an excerpt from the forthcoming book Almost Forever by Kathy Clark. This excerpt has been set for this edition only and may not reflect the final content of the forthcoming edition. eBook ISBN 9781101885628 Cover design: Sharanya Durvasula Cover photograph: Masterfile RF readloveswept.com v4.1 ep

Contents Cover Title Page Copyright

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Dedication By Kathy Clark About the Author The Editor’s Corner Excerpt from Almost Forever

Chapter 1 Nick walked into the dimly lit confines of the Jackalope Bar on Austin’s famous Sixth Street. Some people have a favorite easy chair they plop into after a hard day’s work, but Nick’s chosen spot was a stool at the far end of the bar. If someone happened to be there when he arrived, he wouldn’t hesitate to ask the person to move. Maybe it was his no-nonsense tone, the steely look in his blue eyes, or the rigid set of his square jaw, but the trespasser always vacated the stool without argument. It was the perfect location for a night of consumption where Nick could sit sideways with his back against the wall and right arm supported on the worn wooden bar. From that vantage point, he could watch both the front and back doors, as well as most of the patrons. Force of habit. Through years as a DEA agent, he had learned to multitask. He could eat, drink, watch a game on one of the flat screens, check messages on his cell, and catch up on the real news that only bartenders can offer, all while keeping an eye on everything going on around him. At this time of year, most of the college kids had gone home for the summer. That left a handful of locals, summer students, and lots of tourists prowling the bars and restaurants downtown. It was easy to tell which were first-timers because they would stop and stare at the giant fiberglass statue of a jackrabbit with deer antlers glued on top of its head. Or they would hoist their kids onto the saddle on the rabbit’s back and snap photos on their phones. Apparently the legend of jackalopes had been made popular back in the 1930s after a Wyoming hunter used his taxidermy talent to create the mythical creature, then sold it to a local hotel. It became the Old West version of a unicorn as stories of sightings spread and persisted. “Hi, Nick,” the petite, raven-haired bartender with a tight black tank top said as she sailed a coaster to land directly in front of him. “Hey, Gina. You still fucking that no-good cowboy…what’s his name?” Gina smiled and gave him a flirtatious flutter of her thick fake lashes. “Yeah, like you care.” “Course I care, darlin’. I just hate to see such a hot babe wasting herself on a guy with cow shit on his boots.” “You’ll be the first one I call when I get tired of him….I promise.” “You’ve been saying that for months, you know?” Nick sat down and took off his sunglasses so his eyes could adjust to the lower light level. He and Gina had been running the same routine for the last five years, but Nick hadn’t taken it any further, even though Gina had given him several opportunities. It wasn’t that he wasn’t attracted to her; he simply didn’t want to have to find another place to drink. “And it’s Gary,” she added. “Gary? That’s an old fart’s name….Gary!” he snorted. “And Nick isn’t?” “It’s timeless,” he retorted.

“Yeah, like St. Nicholas and the popes.” “And Nick Cannon and Nic Cage…both cool dudes.” “One’s old enough to be my father and the other is old enough to be my grandfather.” Nick gave her a pained look. Age was definitely a subject he didn’t want to discuss. Gina must have known because she gave him a wink to soften the blow and asked, “What are you having?” “Pull me a small fresh one, but nothing domestic.” “Got it. Want me to card you to make you feel better?” He tossed his coaster at her, but she dodged, turned, and grabbed a mug, all in one smooth motion. She filled it at one of the many taps, flipped another coaster onto the bar, and set the mug squarely on top of it. “Thanks, darlin’. How’ve you been?” He let the foam settle before taking a sip. “Me? Struggling, you know? Been pulling a couple of doubles to pay for a blown engine on that piece-of-shit Hyundai. My ex is still laughing….He could have let me have the new F-150, but nooo…” She leaned forward, resting her elbows on the bar. “Where’ve you been, Nick? I haven’t seen you for a few weeks.” “I had an assignment in Denver, then I went to Kentucky for a few days.” “At least you’re back at work after that unofficial trip to Mexico you took last year. I heard you got some time off without pay. True?” Nick took a long drink and studied her over the thick glass rim. “Who told you that?” “You’re not the only officer who comes in here.” “Great…So much for being undercover. Besides, they don’t know shit.” “They said you got moved out of the secret-agent business.” He shrugged noncommittally. “How long?” “My boss told me until my looks change.” “I think you’re still pretty good-looking.” She flashed another smile and a wink. “It’s going to be a long time before you get ugly.” He held up his mug in a silent salute. “Need food?” Gina asked. “Give me a naked burger, rare, and fries.” “You got it.” Nick took out his cellphone, flipped through the emails, and scanned the missed calls. The last three from his boss had gone to voicemail. He knew he really should call her back. After that unauthorized trip to Mexico, he’d promised to be more communicative. It didn’t matter that he’d been instrumental in busting the biggest drug cartel on the border. She’d raked him over the coals for not clearing it through the agency first and for going without backup. He hit the redial button next to her name. “I’ve been calling you all day, Nick. Where are you?” Bobbi asked, without even so much as a hello.

“I finished my reports about Denver and sent them to you today.” “They were due yesterday.” “Yeah…I know. But you have them now.” He didn’t add that he’d been battling a bitch of a hangover from a generous sampling of Kentucky bourbon. He’d caught an early flight with two layovers and a storm delay before arriving back in Austin late this afternoon. He’d barely been able to finish the damn report before he fell asleep. “We good?” Nick clenched his teeth. He loved the actual work but hated writing about it. If bad guys went to jail because he busted their asses in the act of committing a crime, then that should be enough information for the files. Or better yet, they should require criminals to write their own reports as the first phase of their punishment. “After I’ve read it, I’ll let you know. Listen, I need to talk to you.” “What’s up?” “No…in person. Too late today, but how about tomorrow morning first thing…my office. Can you stay out of trouble till then, Nick?” It was more of a demand than a question. “Sure…no problem. I’m grabbing a burger and then heading home. See you tomorrow.” “First thing, my time…as in eight a.m.” “Eight a.m.,” Nick echoed and grimaced as he ended the call and put his phone down on the bar. “Here you go.” Gina set the plate of food in front of him, along with the mustard and ketchup bottles. “You okay?” Nick smiled. “Sure. The boss has some new hell for me tomorrow.” “More trouble from the cartel deal?” “That and other things she doesn’t like…Not sure how far back she holds a grudge. I only started reporting to her about two years ago.” He squeezed a mound of ketchup next to the fries, then added a generous squirt of mustard on the burger. Gina laughed. “Dude, you’re screwed if she holds a grudge.” Nick held the palm of his hand up to wave off her concern. “Maybe I should have let her know before I took off…but there wasn’t time, ya know?” “Never is, Nick. Never is. Anyway, enjoy. I’m glad you’re back in town.” Gina reached out and patted the back of his hand as he reached for his beer. Nick glanced up at the television and read the sports crawler with minimal interest. Football was his preferred season, but at this time of year it was all about baseball. He worked his way through the burger and fries, only half aware of what he was eating. He was worried, more than he wanted to admit, about his meeting with Bobbi tomorrow. She might be a woman in a heavily male organization, but she had worked her way up and had a wellearned reputation for being a hard-ass. Worse, she had zero sense of humor, so he couldn’t even joke his way out of a tight spot. For all his grumbling, he loved being an agent. He liked being out, observing the world, tracking down the bad guys, and keeping illegal drugs off the streets. Bobbi had threatened to put him behind a desk if he didn’t change his methods. But his logic was why cramp his style if it got the job done? And not even Bobbi could deny his success rate was higher than anyone else’s in the local agency. However, his fails were epic, and apparently she preferred focusing

on them. Nick signaled Gina for another draft and drained the first just as she returned with the next one. Within minutes, the food was gone and the second draft was less than half full. He leaned back and, through half-closed eyes, surveyed the crowd. Two kids, probably locals, burst into the bar through the back door. They were laughing and stumbling into each other, indicating this wasn’t the first bar they’d hit tonight. Nick immediately focused on a smudge of white powder on the taller kid’s right cheek near his nose. Nick swiveled on his stool, just enough so he could watch them in the mirror. It was certainly better entertainment than the ball game. They sat on stools only a couple down from his. Nick leaned on the bar as if focusing on his beer, allowing him to listen to the boys’ conversation without creating suspicion. “Man, that was too easy,” the taller kid laughed. “There must have been a thousand bags in that storage unit, dude. We can make a fortune.” The other kid pushed his glasses back to the bridge of his nose. His voice was a little too highpitched and overexcited. “Hi, guys.” Gina slid two coasters in front of the newcomers and greeted them with her usual high-energy smile. Both boys nearly jumped off their stools. “Whoa, where’d you come from?” the tall kid asked. “Uh…this is where I always am, every Wednesday through Sunday. Imagine that…a bartender behind a bar.” Gina held her hands out and waved toward row after row of liquor bottles on the shelves behind her. “Thirsty?” They laughed and slapped each other on the shoulder as if she were hilarious. “Of course we are,” the kid with the glasses said. Gina took their drink orders, checked their IDs and, as she passed Nick, gave him a crosseyed look. Nick chuckled but didn’t lose his concentration. The shorter kid pulled out his cellphone and dialed. A few seconds later he crowed, “Yeah, Derek…we did it!” “What’d he say?” the tall kid asked, leaning closer and trying to overhear the conversation. “Yeah, we should go back right away.” The shorter boy held the phone out so his friend could hear. “One of the bags split open. When they go in there, they’ll see it and know someone found their stash. We’ve got to clean it up…and, you know, take a few bags before they move it somewhere else.” He waited while Derek said something, then continued, “Listen, dude, it’s got to be tonight. We’ll make a killing with this shit.” The taller kid got up as if he were leaving, but the kid on the phone grabbed him and pulled him down. “Okay…ten. Good…I gotta get something to eat. See you there.” He set his phone on the bar. “Ten tonight. And he’s bringing Drake.” He held his hand up, and the two boys high-fived. “Split four ways?” “Four ways. With so many bags, they won’t miss a few. And best of all, they’ll never know who did it.” Gina placed bottles of beer on their coasters. “Either of you want a glass?”

“Nah, we’re good,” the shorter guy said. “Fuck, we’re better than good….We’re great.” “Man, it’s hot in here.” The tall kid chugged the entire beer. “I’m so thirsty.” His friend nodded and drained his bottle. “Yeah, me too.” He was jittery and tapped out a staccato rhythm with his fingers on the bar. His friend was nervously peeling the label off his beer bottle as he waited for a new one. Nick signaled Gina when she returned, and she came over immediately. “What’s up?” she asked. “Ever seen those two before?” Nick nodded toward the two guys. Gina glanced over. “Don’t think so. Why?” “Can’t tell you. Ask one of your undercover guys.” A corner of his mouth lifted and his eyes twinkled. Gina slapped his hand and went to flirt with another customer. Nick glanced at his phone and saw it was only eight thirty. He still had some time to kill. He finished his beer and waved at Gina for another. Not wanting to let the boys out of his sight, Nick stepped away from the bar but kept his eye on the mirror. In the spirit of his new pledge of transparency, he dialed his boss. The phone rang three times, then the answering message came on. With a low voice and the mic cupped in his hand, he whispered, “It’s me. Listen, I ran across a possible storage locker full of booger sugar, so call me. I’m going to check it out.” Nick smiled as Gina delivered his third beer. He settled back on his stool. “Thanks, darlin’.” “First two beers made you happy….Good.” “Nah…just found something interesting to do this evening. You sure you don’t know these guys?” “No…If you want, I’ll trade phone numbers with the tall one. He’s kind of cute.” “Never mind. Gary might get pissed and blame me.” “Yeah, like I tell Gary about you,” she snorted. Nick glanced over at the boys as they flagged for another round. When Gina passed him again, he flipped his debit card onto the bar. “I gotta go as soon as I finish this.” Gina went to the cash register and closed out his tab. “I was awesome tonight, so your tip was pretty generous.” Nick grinned. At his request, she had started adding the tip she felt she’d earned. Most nights she did well, but some nights she stiffed herself because she didn’t believe he’d gotten the best service. It was a little weird, but she was always fair. “Great, I’m sure you deserved it. See you.” “Hey, we need our bill over here,” the tall kid yelled at Gina. She printed out their check and smiled as she placed it in front of them. “Here you go, guys. Thanks for coming in.” The shorter guy laid a stack of bills on the bar and nodded toward Gina. “Keep the change.” “Yeah, we gotta go.” As the tall kid stood up, Nick slid off his stool and staggered out to block the boys. They tried to walk around him, but he lurched forward and bumped into the shorter kid. Nick reached out and steadied himself by grabbing the boy’s wrist.

“Whoa…Sorry, dude….My bad. One too many, ya know?” “That’s okay….No harm,” the kid muttered, giving Nick a disgusted look. The boys continued out the back door. Nick straightened and watched them leave with a clear and steady gaze. He smiled as he glanced down at his cellphone and watched the little white blip on the screen following the tracking device that he had stuck to the band of the kid’s expensive wristwatch. It would only stick on the metal for a couple of hours, so he didn’t have a lot of time to waste. He gave Gina a wave and headed toward his car. He snapped his cellphone into the holder on his dash and continued north on I-35, following a few dozen yards behind the pair from the Jackalope. He hadn’t gotten a good look at their car, but from a distance it appeared to be a silver late-model BMW or Mercedes. Traffic, as usual, was horrible, and he would have lost them several times without the locator’s blip. He still hadn’t heard back from Bobbi, but that was no reason to pass on this easy bust as they led him to their stash of blow. In good conscience he couldn’t let them steal the illegal drugs and distribute them. After all, this wasn’t Mexico, or even a drug cartel. It was Austin, blocks from the UT campus and thousands of kids who would have access to these little baby drug dealers. In his mind that was cause, and he had to shut this operation down before the drugs slipped out. They turned into the parking lot of a multistory storage locker complex. The kid with glasses was driving, and he punched in a code on the keypad. The big iron gate slowly rolled open. Two other guys who had been hiding in the shadows ran in behind the car, seconds before the gate closed. Nick parked where he could watch the gate, grabbed his cellphone, and selected a contact from his list. “Larry, it’s Nick,” he said, feeling that familiar rush of adrenaline. “Nick? What’s happening, man?” “You working tonight?” “Yes, why?” “Got a big drug bust going down. I need backup, now.” Nick kept his gaze glued to the gate, hoping that removing the bags and cleaning up was a slow process. “Backup?” “Listen, dude…I’m alone here, staking out a storage locker full of blow….Interested?” There was a moment of silence. “Of course, APD to the rescue. What’s the address?” “Bluebonnet Storage on Forty-first by the interstate. Hurry…No siren. Okay?” “On my way.” Nick ended the call and turned his full attention back to the gate. He checked his cell clock a half dozen times, his fingers drumming on the console as he waited. Being the only agent on the arrest would be hard with four perps, even though they seemed like goofy college kids. As he rethought his situation, any questions about timing were answered when the gate slid open and the silver BMW drove out with all four boys inside. He glanced in his rearview mirror. No cops. This was a problem. If he let them go, they would split up and three fourths of the drugs would be completely untraceable. Nick shifted

the truck into drive and roared forward, screeching to a stop in front of their car just as it cleared the gate. He reached into his glove box, pulled out his service revolver, opened the door, and jumped out of his car. “Stop! DEA! Get out of the car and on the ground…now!” he shouted, his legs braced and the nine-millimeter pointed toward the driver. The boys’ eyes bugged as the driver slammed on the brakes. Tumbling over one another in their haste, they crawled out of the car and flopped facedown on their stomachs. “If you have any weapons, slowly take them out and slide them over here,” Nick demanded in his best badass voice. The four glanced at each other and shook their heads. “I gotta pee,” the tall kid moaned. “Go ahead,” Nick told him. “They can hose down the driveway tomorrow.” The boy gave him a horrified glance and muttered, “I can wait.” Nick looked over his shoulder when he heard three Austin Police Department cruisers speed into the parking lot. They stopped, leaving their headlights on to illuminate the scene. The officers exited their vehicles with weapons drawn and aimed at the twentysomethings on the ground. The cops immediately moved forward and snapped handcuffs on the boys, then started emptying their pockets. The flashing blue lights of a fourth police car bounced off the front of the storage locker building. A tall, muscular black officer with a wide grin climbed out of his car. He carefully placed his hat on his head and walked to where Nick stood. “Nick…long time, no see,” he said. “Shit, Larry, I’m getting too old for this.” “Relax, amigo. What’s this all about?” Nick looked at the four suspects, who were now lined up against the side of their vehicle, guarded by one cop while the other three searched the car. “The tall guy on the right and the kid next to him were bragging about the cocaine locker they’d found. They called their friends and came back here to steal some. Apparently there’s a shitload stored in one of those lockers.” He jerked his head in the direction of the gate. “Really? Let me guess…You were in a bar.” “I was eating dinner, and the establishment had beer. Big difference.” “Found it!” one of the cops called out. Everyone who wasn’t still searching the interior of the car or guarding the boys hurried to the back of the vehicle, where they all gathered around the open trunk. Inside, there were about twenty clear plastic bags, each the size of a five-pound bag of sugar, stuffed with fine white powder. “Tested it yet?” Larry asked. “Not yet.” Nick retrieved a small kit out of the backseat of his truck, then pulled out a plastic bottle of cobalt thiocyanate and a switchblade. He snapped the knife open and stabbed it into the top bag, pulling out the blade so that a small pile of white powder balanced on the tip. Then he dripped some liquid from the eyedropper onto the powder. He and all the cops peered down and waited. Nothing happened.

Nick frowned. He’d done this hundreds of times to cocaine and heroin, and the powder always turned blue. He repeated the test with powder from a different bag. Same result. Absolutely no chemical reaction. At the front of the car, the kids began laughing nervously. The night got worse when a news van from one of the local Austin TV stations rolled into the middle of the action and two reporters rushed forward with their camera rolling. The other cops started backing away, leaving Nick standing at the open trunk of the car with a pile of bags of unknown white powder inside. Cops, kids, a DEA agent, and now a local television station, all standing around, waiting for something to happen. Nick began to have a really bad feeling about this whole scene. A cocaine bust that had everything but cocaine. “Negative?” Larry asked with a look of resignation on his face. “Yeah.” “Officer.” The TV reporter interrupted the moment. “Why is Congressman Grossman’s son being arrested?” “Fuck!” Nick whispered. A congressman’s son? Louder, he said, “Uh, there’s nothing happening here, guys. Go home.” “Can we talk to the suspects?” “Sure,” Larry said. “Guys”—he looked toward the three cops who were standing around nervously—“I’ll take it from here.” The three cops rushed to their cars, backed out, and fled. The TV reporter and cameraman approached the four kids, thrust a microphone in front of them, and started asking them questions. Every word out of their mouths made Nick feel more and more foolish. No doubt the meeting with his supervisor first thing in the morning would now take on an even more negative tone…and possibly a different objective. He was still on probation for his little trip to Mexico. The last thing he wanted was to be suspended… or worse. He shook his head and exhaled as he walked back to Larry. “Do you have anything else on them?” Larry asked. “Fake IDs? Drunk driving?” “You could give them a sobriety test. I know they’ve been drinking.” He raked his fingers through his dark, disheveled hair. “The kid had all this white shit on his nose, and they were acting like they were high on booger sugar. I just put two and two together and…” “Got screwed,” Larry finished. “Any comment?” The TV reporter turned to Nick. Nick ignored him. “You okay?” Larry whispered, genuinely concerned. “I’ve been better.” Nick shrugged. “Fuck if I can remember when.” “Will you be arresting Congressman Grossman’s son for cocaine possession?” the reporter asked. “Not tonight,” Larry answered as he removed the boys’ handcuffs. “But we are considering DWI charges. Protecting our citizens is our number one goal. Let’s head to the station, boys.” Nick fell into step with Larry as they walked to the patrol car with the boys reluctantly

shuffling in front on them. “Thanks for getting out here….Tell them I appreciate it.” “Will do. I’m going to get these guys processed.” Larry slapped Nick on the shoulder and continued herding the boys to his car. Nick tried to ignore the camera pointed at him as he got in his truck and drove off. — Nick was in his office earlier than requested because he knew he didn’t need to piss off his boss, Bobbi Carter, any more than she already was. His only hope was that she hadn’t seen the TV report, but he knew that was unlikely. From the looks he’d gotten when he came into the building, it was obvious that everyone else had. Bobbi was middle-aged, about Nick’s height, and wore her sandy-blond hair short and straight. Nick had never seen her wear anything but dark pants, a blue or white blouse, and a matching suit coat. Completely professional and always serious, her only touch of femininity was a whimsical brooch. A dachshund in a bun, a frog wearing a top hat, a tiny Ferris wheel that actually moved…Every day it was something different. Her supply must be endless. At one minute before eight, Nick walked down the hall and knocked on her open door. “Ready for me? If not, I can come back.” “You wish,” she answered, looking up from a newspaper on her desk. “Sit down, Agent Archer.” Damn, he hadn’t thought about the newspaper. Who the hell read newspapers anymore? Nick sat on the small wooden chair that was centered across from Bobbi’s highly organized desk. Today’s choice of brooch was a pair of handcuffs. He wondered if that was foreshadowing of how this meeting was going to go. Plus, she was calling him Agent Archer instead of just his first name like she usually did. It was the equivalent of his mother shouting out Nicholas Andrew Archer when she was mad. That had been his cue to disappear until she cooled down. Unfortunately, there was no such escape from his boss. “So, Agent Archer, how are things with you?” A pleasant enough question, but Nick knew she was offering him a chance to fess up about last night’s activities. Unfortunately, Nick wasn’t a fess-up kind of guy. His motto was to deny everything…until there was proof. “Not too bad. Did you read my report?” “No, because I was too busy talking on the phone.” “Oh?” “Congressman Grossman called me this morning…early.” What the hell could he say at this point? Nick stared at her, waiting for the rest of the story. “I was impressed he had connections enough to find my cellphone number at two a.m.,” Bobbi continued. “I have an explanation…The kid came into the Jackalope with white powder on—” Bobbi wagged her index finger back and forth at Nick. “I don’t care if he had poppies growing out of his ass, you shouldn’t have moved in until you cleared it with me.” She shook her head in disgust. “I’ve heard enough. Let’s just say last night validates my decision about your future.”

Nick felt his mouth go dry as he waited to hear his fate. “I’ve thought about the two years you’ve worked under my command, Agent Archer, and I’ve come to the conclusion that you have a tendency to make reckless decisions that embarrass this agency. Remember the Mexican drug cartel you tried to bring down alone? That’s not to mention last night’s attempt to arrest a congressman’s son on cocaine charges when all he had was powdered caffeine.” “What?” Nick shook his head. “Powdered caffeine. Seems our congressman has a small business venture with an energy drinks manufacturer. He imports caffeine—legally—from Mexico and makes the drinks here. It’s all quite aboveboard. But apparently there is a small black market for the caffeine powder on campus and his son found a way to make a few extra bucks.” “Wow. Caffeine,” Nick muttered. He’d never made a caffeine bust before…mostly because it wasn’t a drug. “So the congressman will deal with his son, not us. Understand?” “Yes, ma’am.” “On the positive side, your old supervisor, Peter Santos, had nothing but good things to say about you and, frankly, your arrest and conviction rates are the best in the department. On the negative side, you’ve been working alone because no one will work with you. Peter said you had gone through at least ten partners and none lasted more than a month. True?” Nick sat in silence, staring up at the ceiling. “I really miss Peter. He was a good guy. I was sorry he got transferred to the San Diego office.” He took a deep breath and looked back at Bobbi. “But yeah, I work better alone.” “Why?” Nick’s black eyebrows arched. “Partners slow me down, ma’am. And besides, I need someone who’s completely and blindly loyal to me in a pinch.” Bobbi twirled her pen between her fingers as she studied Nick. “Then you’ll be glad to hear that I’ve decided you’re going to get a new partner. Guaranteed to be loyal, obey your every command, and follow you anywhere.” Nick stared at her, but she wasn’t blinking. “You’ve just described a dog.” “Bingo. Peter told me you were bright.” Bobbi pushed a business card across the desk. “You are to call Jamie Chambers at Woof Gang Kennels. She’s the owner and head trainer. She’ll help you choose the right dog and get it…and you…trained to support your work.” “It’s a joke, right? Woof Gang?” Bobbi wasn’t smiling. She rarely did. “This is in addition to your regular job. I’m putting you on the synthetic cannabinoid case. We’ve had two students at UT die in the last month.” She pushed a large folder across her desk to Nick. “Someone is selling loosie-goosey cigarettes with the paper dipped in a new synthetic drug and packed with fruit-flavored tobacco. You’ll need to buy some on the street and get that into Jamie’s training for your new partner.” “Anything else?” Nick felt like he was no longer a DEA special agent but fast becoming a lowly pooper-scooper for a four-legged rookie who was going to do nothing but get in his way. “That’s a good start.”

He shifted in the chair. “I’d rather not, if it’s all the same to you. I don’t have time to take care of myself, much less a dog.” “You don’t have a choice. You need someone to keep you from doing anything stupid again. At least a dog will know if it’s cocaine or caffeine you’re after. Besides, it’s a partner who won’t complain and will save us money. No health care, dental, or 401(k) matching…and no embarrassing headlines.” Nick waited for her to smile and say she was kidding. But she dismissed him by looking down at the newspaper. The subject was clearly closed. At least he hadn’t been fired or moved to a desk. He stood and pocketed the card. “I’ll call her.” “Today, Nick. Today.”

Chapter 2 Nick sat in his truck in front of a small unnamed bar near the UT campus. The sun hadn’t yet dipped below the buildings, but the bright red neon sign flashing OPEN already beckoned. He watched as a half dozen students joined the group of seedy regulars inside. Lucky for the kids, he wasn’t there to check IDs, because most were clearly underage. But this bar was one of his best contact spots, so he wouldn’t risk spoiling that. He plucked Jamie’s card from the dashboard of his truck and studied it. Woof Gang Kennels. What a stupid name. Get a dog. What a fucking stupid idea. The last thing he needed was a four-legged liability. It wasn’t that Nick didn’t like dogs, because he did. But with his crazy hours, he didn’t even take care of himself properly…or at least that was what his grandma constantly reminded him. Now he would have another creature to keep alive. Bobbi was a fair and understanding boss. She had covered for him on many occasions and looked the other way on several more. He knew she was serious about this, mostly to cover her ass with her bosses. The least he could do was cooperate…just this once. Maybe none of the dogs would pick him—a somewhat embarrassing thought. He punched in the kennel’s number, a little more viciously than necessary, and put the phone on speaker. Nick knew this would be a ridiculous waste of time, but, what the fuck, he could play along. He closed his eyes and rubbed them. This congressman thing was potentially a ticket out of Austin, and not in the right direction. The phone rang for the third time and then stopped. Thinking it was the answering machine, Nick was about to hang up when a female voice came through. “Woof Gang Kennels. This is Jamie. How may I help you?” “Ah…yeah. This is DEA Special Agent Nick Archer. I was directed to call you about getting a dog.” “Bobbi told me you’d be calling today. I had almost given up.” There was a hint of reproach in her tone. “Yeah, sorry…Jamie, is it? Listen, I can call back tomorrow.” “May I call you Nick, Special Agent Archer?” “Sure. Or maybe the day after tomorrow, if that works better for you?” “I’d rather talk to you in person…tomorrow. Bobbi insisted that this was to happen on a fast track. What time can you come in?” “I’ve got an appointment in the afternoon in Austin, so maybe about noon?” “Noon? That’s too late. I need five hours the first time to get you started correctly. Bobbi wants an update tomorrow, and I want to be able to report something more than that we talked on the phone.” “Bobbi’s a pain in my ass,” Nick muttered. “Listen, just pick me out a dog, and I’ll drop by, load it up, and go.”

“That’s not how we do it here. First there’s an interview so I can assess your readiness, then count on about four hours to work with the dogs. And of course there’s the training.” “You mean the dogs aren’t trained?” Nick heaved an exasperated sigh. “Of course the dogs are trained. I was talking about you.” It was the second time today that Nick had realized he was completely out of control…a feeling that made him very uncomfortable. Jamie continued, as if completely unaware of his distress, “I want you to meet several dogs and see which one is the best fit…you know, demeanor-wise. We’ll run you through a couple of routines, and then we’ll find the one dog that will pass the audition.” “Routines? You expect me to prance around like I’m performing in the Westminster dog show or something?” Jamie laughed. “God, no. You’ll see. Wear comfortable shoes.” “Shoes? Sure. Okay, what time works for you?” Mentally Nick admitted defeat…at least for now. “Midmorning, so we have time to let the dogs do their thing.” “Some don’t pass the audition?” “Most don’t. But I think you have the wrong impression. Actually, it’s you who will be auditioning for the dogs. How about eight?” “Great.” Nick didn’t try to hide his sarcasm. This just kept getting worse and worse. Not only was a dog being forced on him, but he could suffer the humiliation of not being selected by the fucking mutts. Sort of like getting picked last for kickball in second grade. He was too old for this shit. “See you tomorrow…at nine.” “Bye, Nick.” He ended the call and flipped Jamie’s business card toward the passenger-side floor. It immediately disappeared in the pile of fast-food wrappers and bits of paper with addresses and phone numbers of leads scribbled on them. The unconventional filing system worked for him, although it had driven his ex-partner crazy. Better men than Jamie had tried to change him and failed. He snorted. She didn’t know who she was dealing with. Fuck her and fuck her dogs. They were the ones that would have to pass his test. Back to business, he thought with a mental shake. He’d already lost enough time on Bobbi’s harebrained idea. Tonight he was going to try to score some loosies. The term loosie had been coined on the streets of New York. Because of the exorbitant sales tax on cigarettes and the crackdown on sales to minors, entrepreneurs got around the laws by selling cigarettes one at a time, and they never checked IDs. If they paid fifty bucks for a carton and sold each cigarette for a dollar, that would be a $150 profit. A good salesman could sell six to ten cartons a day. The phenomenon hadn’t really made the transition to Middle America, but now in Austin, where several large colleges had active campuses, there was a new twist. Someone was making cigarettes, but instead of tobacco they were packed with synthetic cannabis, also called K2 or spice, and mixed with fruity flavors. Students and even kids smoked them, some thinking the loosies were a form of pot and others thinking the cigarettes were a blend of herbs that would be healthier than tobacco.

Neither was true. In spite of its name, synthetic cannabis contained no marijuana. And even though the filler was usually a blend of herbs, they were mixed with a dangerous combination of chemicals and heavy metals that produced a quick, cheap high…often with deadly side effects. The fruit flavor made it seem all the more innocent and lured in underage kids. All of which made loosie-gooseys, whose name separated them from the traditional cigarette loosies, a trend reaching epidemic proportions. Nick’s current assignment was to work with the Austin Police Department to find the source. And the best place to start the search was the no-name bar that was frequented by the loosie-goosey’s target market: students, mostly male, up to the age of about twenty-six. Nick waited until the sun dropped below the distant hills. He checked to make sure his Glock was fully loaded before sticking it into the back waistband of his faded jeans and pulling his shirttail down to hide it. With a battered Dallas Cowboys cap on his head and a pair of black Nikes on his feet, he knew he would blend in with the other patrons in the bar. He got out of his truck, locked the doors, adjusted his pants so the automatic settled more securely, then strode toward the front door. The interior was several shades darker than the night outside, and it took a couple minutes for his eyes to adjust. There were groups clustered at several tables in the dining area, and a couple of middle-aged regulars were slumped on barstools, already several drinks ahead. Off to the right in another room, there was the crash and clatter of pool balls, and all around the bar dozens of televisions, with the volume turned up, were broadcasting different sports channels. As if it weren’t noisy enough, a jukebox in the corner was pulsing with the heavy beat of a rap song. This was definitely not an easy place to eavesdrop on conversations…until the alcohol kicked in and the shouting began. Nick looked around at the heavily male customer base. This wasn’t the type of place a guy would bring a date. The few women who were here were either professionals or chicks with a drinking problem. Nick was careful to avoid both. The young bartender didn’t even bother with a coaster on the scarred wooden countertop as Nick straddled a stool at the end of the bar where he could keep an eye on the door. “How’s it going?” the young man asked, recognizing Nick from past visits, although no one had any idea of Nick’s true identity. “Good enough….Give me a small draft….Surprise me.” “Cool. Got just the thing.” In a minute he returned with a glass of dark beer, which he set on the bar. “Let me know what you think.” Nick took a long swallow. “It’s good. What is it?” “Our own brand. A dark wheat beer with molasses. We call it Pig Dog.” Nick’s dark eyebrows lifted. “Pig Dog?” “Before the Longhorn, Bevo, the UT mascot was a dog named Pig…Pig Dog.” Nick nodded as if it made sense. He personally had never gotten into the whole rah-rah college fanaticism. Always a mediocre student, he had dropped out his junior year to join the Marines. He’d gotten his degree online while he was in Afghanistan, which didn’t promote school loyalty.

The bartender slid a plastic bowl of bar chow toward Nick. “You a student?” “I wish,” Nick answered with just the right level of regret. “No, I detail cars when I need money….Other odd jobs sometimes.” He picked the peanuts and pretzels out of the mix and downed his beer. “Another one?” the bartender asked. “Sure.” Nick looked around the small bar. “Kind of slow, isn’t it?” The young man picked up Nick’s empty mug and replaced it on the bar with a full one. “Summer session starts in a couple days. It’ll pick up then.” Nick sipped his beer and feigned interest in a baseball game showing on one of the TVs over the bar. The bartender wandered down to the other end, where he chatted with the two older guys and replenished their drinks. When he finally returned, Nick was halfway through the second beer and thoroughly bored. The tables shared by the college kids were getting rowdier and rowdier, but there was no sign of any loosies. Maybe it was time to check out the bartender. They usually had their fingers on the pulse. Nick finished his beer and signaled for another. After it was delivered, he leaned forward and said, his voice lowered so no one else would overhear, “My buddy told me he bought some loosies here.” He took a drink and waited. The bartender studied Nick for a moment, then, as if any lover of Pig Dog must be trustworthy, he nodded. “What flavor?” “Shit…I like ’em all….Can I get one of each?” Nick smiled with his best average-Joe grin. “Sampler…no problem. That’s a Benjamin.” Nick pulled out a money clip and peeled off five twenty-dollar bills, which he quickly folded into a small rectangle so no one else would notice. The bartender turned around, blocking his actions from everyone else as he opened the wine cooler, reached in the back behind the bottles, and pulled out a metal box. He used a key from his pocket to unlock the box before opening it and extracting a small package wrapped in brown paper and sealed inside a plastic bag. He turned around and placed the bag on the bar and palmed the folded bills, all in one smooth move. Nick quickly slid the package off the bar and into his pocket. “These safe? I’ve heard some kids got messed up.” “Sure. I use them myself.” He smiled as he dropped the twenties in the metal box and locked it. Nick chugged the remainder of the beer and left another twenty on the bar. “Great beer, dude. Later.” “Enjoy,” the bartender called as Nick left the bar. — If he hadn’t been so distracted…and if he hadn’t totally been a guy…Nick might have noticed the beauty of the Texas Hill Country with its craggy cliffs, sprawling oaks, and blanket of brilliant wildflowers. However, he had long ago become immune to the scenery because he took this drive often.

His grandmother lived about twenty miles west of Austin, outside the small town of Dripping Springs. Her hundred-year-old farmhouse had always been the gathering place for the family on every holiday. When they were kids, Nick and his two brothers had looked forward to spending summers on the farm. Grammy had insisted they each pick a month so they could get her undivided, individual attention. Those summers had created some of the best memories of his life. And now, with his parents gone, Grammy was the glue that held the family together. She insisted—and no one ever told Grammy no—that whenever the boys were in town, they had to have Sunday lunch with her. No excuse other than deployment overseas or an undercover mission to Colombia was acceptable. It was amazing the control that one seventy-six-year-old woman had over three grown men. Nick passed the turnoff to Grammy’s house and continued on another half mile until he saw a sign shaped like a big paw with WOOF GANG KENNELS and an arrow painted on it. He turned off Highway 290 onto a gravel drive. Off to the right was a thicket of oaks, mesquite, and fir trees while the land to the left had been cleared and fenced to hold a small herd of coal black Angus cattle that were belly deep in lush grass. In a smaller pasture, a half dozen horses stood in a loose circle, their noses facing inward and their tails busily flicking away the everpresent flies. With their heads lowered and their eyes closed, they were clearly enjoying the early-morning sun. It was a quiet, peaceful scene that would have lowered Nick’s blood pressure to an acceptable level if he hadn’t been so pissed off about being here. He continued around a curve and saw a large yellow two-story farmhouse, probably about the same era as Grammy’s but with a Victorian touch. Three long outbuildings with individual chain-link runs attached to each opening were about a hundred feet from the house, and a traditional red barn stood at the far end, open to the horse pasture. It was a habit to quickly evaluate and commit to memory any new surroundings. Nick didn’t anticipate the necessity for a fast getaway, but in his line of work, anything was possible. A deep porch stretched across the front of the house, covered by the same shiny metal roof as the rest of the house and all the outbuildings. Wooden rockers were scattered in random groupings, and a big swing hung from chains at one end of the porch, angled to catch the spectacular sunsets over the Hill Country. It was all very organic and practical, clearly a place for hanging out, discussing ranch business or gossiping about neighbors, drinking a cup of coffee in the morning and a cold beer at night. It was a working porch, not staged with designer cushions just for show. Three older pickup trucks were backed in beneath huge, heavy-limbed oaks that kept the blistering sun and occasional afternoon hail from battering the already weather-whipped vehicles. Nick followed suit and backed into the end spot that had a hand-painted paw sign that stated VISITORS. He went through the same procedure as always, nestling his Glock in his back waistband before getting out of the truck. He was ridiculously nervous about this meeting and dragged his fingers through his hair. The screen door creaked open and a tall female stepped out onto the porch. “Morning, Nick.” She came forward, lifted one hand to shade her eyes, and smiled. “I’m Jamie Chambers. Welcome to Woof Gang.” The picture he’d had in his mind of a middle-aged, sun-baked woman with short, frizzy hair

and baggy overalls couldn’t have been further from the truth. Jamie was slender but curvy in all the places that mattered. Her eyes were large and an intriguing aquamarine, like a deep pool at Marble Falls. Her straight, chestnut-colored hair was pulled into a high ponytail and tied with what appeared to be a strip of rawhide. Sparkling silver hoops hung from her ears and a silver chain with a heavy ring hung around her neck. She was dressed in cutoff blue jean shorts, several years out of fashion but perfect on her rounded ass, and a bright blue tank top. Nick blinked and realized he should say something, but he was lost in the lushness of her lips and the soft mounds of skin revealed by the scooped neckline. Long, tanned legs led down to well-worn cowboy boots more suited to stomping on snakes in the heat of the day than to line dancing at the bar on a Saturday night. Thank you, Bobbi. I owe you a bottle of tequila, he thought, but aloud he said, “Nice place you have here.” He continued forward until he was at the foot of the steps. Without hesitation, he walked up the four concrete stairs until he was standing in front of her. It wasn’t his style to be in a position of subordination. She lowered her hand from her eyes and held it out to him. “Thanks. Did you have any trouble finding us?” He took her hand and was surprised at the firmness of her grip and the calluses on her palm. Clearly she wasn’t just for show either. “No, my grandmother lives about a mile up 290.” Jamie got right to business. “Take a seat, and let’s get going if you want to make your meeting this afternoon.” She motioned toward two rockers next to a table that held a carafe and two mugs. The subtle way she was taking control of the meeting wasn’t lost on Nick. For the moment, he would play along. Nick crossed the porch to one of the rockers, but he waited until Jamie sat before he took his seat. A show of respect or a power play? Maybe a little of both, but it didn’t hurt to let her know he wasn’t going to be a pushover. “This coffee is a little strong, but I’m guessing that’s the way you like it.” There was a knowing twinkle in her eyes as she picked up the carafe and filled their mugs. “Good guess,” he said. He studied her over the rim of his steaming mug. So she recognized the game and was letting him know she wasn’t easily intimidated. This was going to be a lot more fun than he had expected. “My late husband was a cop. My coffee—and alcohol—consumption tripled after I met him.” Nick noticed that even though her tone was light, as she spoke a cloud dulled her eyes. He guessed she was in her mid-to-late twenties, which was way too young to be a widow. Unfortunately, in the military and law enforcement, that was all too common. His response was genuine and heartfelt. “Sorry.” “It’s been almost three years….” She tried to shrug it off, but clearly it still bothered her. Three years. He knew from experience that losing someone you loved, whether it was a spouse or a buddy, left a hole in your heart. But life went on. A question nudged into his thoughts. Was Jamie ready to move on? Maybe, for once, his timing was right. Had enough time passed for the pain to ease? For her to be lonely? Maybe even good and horny?

“What?” she asked, studying him thoughtfully. He had an uneasy feeling that she could read his mind. Shit. “Uh…just enjoying the coffee.” “Right.” She sipped the coffee, which was still too hot to drink. “So, Nick. Tell me what a special agent with the DEA does. Or better yet, what’s your new partner going to do?” Nick sat back and considered the question. “For me it’s all about getting the drugs off the streets. As for my partner, honestly, I don’t have a fucking clue. This was all Bobbi’s idea, and you two seem chummy, so maybe you should tell me.” The twinkle in her eyes returned as she commented, “Sounds like your boss has you by the short hairs.” Nick nearly choked on his coffee. How had his short hairs gotten into this conversation? It was in the right vein, but not exactly the angle he was shooting for. “She wasn’t really too clear with me either.” Jamie grinned. “She mentioned something about you needing a new nose…and maybe a friend.” “Fair enough.” He didn’t agree that he needed either, but that was Bobbi’s opinion. “So, are you married or in a serious relationship?” This time he did choke, which ended in a coughing attack. Jamie jumped up and pounded on his back. “Hold your arms up.” He finally caught his breath again and wiped his eyes. He wasn’t used to such a direct approach from a woman. “Uh…divorced…Twin sons who live with their slut of a mom…No girlfriends. Why do you ask?” She laughed. “It’s part of my qualification process. I need to know what kind of atmosphere the dog will be moving into. How often do your kids visit?” “I get them every weekend unless I’m out of town or undercover.” “Do you live in a house or an apartment?” “A townhouse.” Jamie shook her head. “It’s a ground-floor unit with a fenced patio,” Nick hurried to add. “Plus, it’s close to a park where people walk their dogs.” “Hmm…What kind of hours do you work? I don’t suppose you actually have a shift like a regular cop.” “No specific shift. My hours fluctuate, depending on whatever case I’m working on.” Again she shook her head. It was starting to get on his nerves. He wasn’t sure why he was suddenly hungry for approval. Probably just an ego thing. And his was feeling a little bruised. “Have you ever had a dog? I mean, when you were a kid?” “Sure. We always had dogs when we were growing up. But once I went into the Marines and then became an agent, I didn’t think it was fair to keep a pet.” “These dogs aren’t pets; they’re working dogs. Whichever one you end up with will expect to be with you pretty much twenty-four hours a day,” she told him. “But you have to make it fun for them.” “Darlin’, I can be fun.” Nick grinned, but she didn’t respond.

Jamie sighed. “I’m not sure you’re the perfect candidate for a service dog.” A feeling strangely like disappointment washed over him. A hundred thoughts tumbled through his mind, all of them centered around this stunning but exasperating young woman sitting across from him. Wasn’t this what he wanted—to be rejected so he wouldn’t have to remember to feed a dog or take him out on midnight walks during a rainstorm in a park where he wouldn’t feel safe without his gun? Suddenly, having a dog and spending more time with Jamie was exactly what he wanted. “Look, I know I’m a little unconventional, but maybe having a K9 partner would help me be a better agent.” He gave her his best pitiful look. “Besides, my job might depend on this being a success. What can I do to make this happen?” She was silent for several seconds, obviously weighing the pros and cons of his qualifications. It must have been a close call because she didn’t seem convinced she was making the right decision. “Okay, well, let’s see how you get along with the dogs,” she finally agreed. “First, tell me what you think a good service dog can do for you.” Jeez, he hadn’t studied for a test. “Obviously, they can lead me to the drugs and provide me with probable cause so I don’t need a search warrant. Getting judges out of bed in the middle of the night is difficult.” “You’re partially right,” she agreed. “The Supreme Court just ruled that if your dog passes a training or certification program, the court can presume that there was sufficient reason for a search.” “That would make my life easier.” “Don’t forget that the defendant will have the opportunity to challenge the evidence offered by the state, so you still have to make your case.” “I assume all your dogs have passed their tests.” “Of course.” She took a drink of her coffee, but her eyes swept over his body as if she were assessing him personally. “But you’re going to need a little work to get your certificate.” “What?” “It means a few days of training, then a field test to qualify you and the dog on different types of contraband.” “A few days?” The thought didn’t upset him like it would have yesterday. Now that he had met Jamie, he was a little more open-minded about this whole K9 partner thing. “Yes, depending on how quickly you learn the commands,” she confirmed. “But I’ll provide the coffee.” Learning the commands was an offer he couldn’t…and no longer wanted…to refuse when it came to Jamie.

Chapter 3 “If you let him, your dog will do so much more than just find drugs.” Jamie refilled their mugs from the carafe. “He’ll learn to sense your moods and understand what you’re feeling. Once you earn his trust, he’ll protect you to the death.” “That’s a lot of pressure for a dog. I don’t always understand myself.” Jamie smiled. Nick liked that she got his sense of humor. Not everyone appreciated his sarcasm. “I also train dogs to help returning soldiers with PTSD issues. Dogs have an amazing ability to know when the soldier is stressed and about to have a meltdown.” Nick frowned, and he shifted his gaze away from hers. “You okay, Nick?” He took a deep breath and nodded. “Yeah. I’m fine.” He stood, walked to the edge of the porch, and looked out across the fields. Jamie also stood and joined him at the railing. “What bothered you about the PTSD story?” Nick hesitated, not normally willing to open up about his feelings. But there was something about the gentle tone of her slightly husky voice that made him think she really cared. It was probably the same way she talked to her dogs to make them relax. He looked down at his big hands gripping the white wooden rail. His voice was so low she had to lean closer to hear. “I just buried a soldier that came back with a bad case of PTSD. He had a service dog that seemed to be helping him. But it wasn’t enough to keep him out of the darkness, and he killed himself. Funny…I didn’t know him all that well, but seeing how hard Riley—that was his dog’s name—took it, I felt like we were friends.” “Riley? What was the soldier’s name?” she asked. “Miller, Malcolm Miller.” Her breath sucked in with an audible gasp. Nick turned and saw that all the color had drained out of her face. Her eyes were wide and profoundly sad. Nick asked, “Riley was one of your dogs?” “And Malcolm was one of my men,” she whispered. Her hands tightened into fists, but her eyes remained dry. “I’m so sorry, Jamie…I didn’t realize…” She looked up at Nick. “It’s okay. You had no way of knowing.” “I met him when I was on assignment in Denver. I attended his service in Kentucky on Memorial Day, along with my two paramedic friends.” Nick’s thoughts drifted back to the parade and the speeches, but most of all the poignancy of meeting Malcolm Miller’s young son. “They brought Riley along, and I swear that dog knew what was going on and was grieving.” Jamie straightened her shoulders, and he could tell she was pushing back whatever

emotions she was feeling. The news had obviously shaken her, but she held it all in. “So, let’s get on with it,” she said, her tone businesslike and controlled. She picked up a clipboard that had been on one of the empty rockers. “What’s first?” he asked. “We’re going to the main kennel, where you will sit on a chair in the middle of the arena. Ralph will bring out several dogs, one at a time, and watch their reactions…and yours. Dogs are WYSIWYG.” “What you see is what you get,” Nick stated, familiar with the acronym. “Exactly. They don’t pretend, and they react on their first impressions. We’ll see if we can find you a perfect match.” “Match.com, doggie style.” Her eyebrows shot up, but he caught a hint of a smile on her lips. “Most of our dogs are rescues,” Jamie continued as they walked down the steps and along a flagstone path to the largest of the three kennels. “All the local shelters notify me when a promising dog shows up. They know what I’m looking for: intelligence, energy, curiosity, and an outgoing personality.” “Any breed?” “Yes. The bigger dogs are better for your kind of work, but some of the smaller breeds make great therapy dogs.” “Any age?” “We go for younger dogs, mainly because once they’re trained and have bonded with their new owners, we want as long of a relationship as possible. Since most dogs live only about ten to fifteen years, we don’t want our owners to suffer a loss too soon.” Nick reached for the door, but Jamie got there first and opened it for herself, then held it for him. Reluctantly, he walked past her and waited. His grandmother was a stickler on men treating ladies like ladies. And right now Nick was feeling a little emasculated. “We also have a few dogs we breed and raise their puppies because they’ve consistently produced great service animals. But with those, we don’t let them go until they’re around two years old and have settled into their adult personalities. By then we can tell if they’re overly aggressive, aloof, timid, sneaky, paranoid…which sometimes can’t be trained out of them.” “What do you do with those?” Nick asked. “We can always find the right person for a dog, especially if it’s one that needs a lot of personal attention. But that means they’re not right for police work or as service dogs.” “Two years? Is that normal?” “I like for them to have time to grow up, play, and learn basic commands as part of their routine, rather than the crash course we give to older dogs. At two years their specialty training begins with their new owner.” “This is a bigger deal than I thought.” “It is to me. We’ll observe them for their temperament first. Dogs react differently to different people. The ones that make it past that test will move on to an attitude check.” “What? How can a dog have a bad attitude living out here? Isn’t it every dog’s dream to live

on a farm and chase rabbits?” Jamie laughed. “Funny guy. You, of all people, should know that it’s not everyone’s dream to live on a farm. Some of these dogs were born to be put into service, whether it’s to protect a cop, to find a child, or to keep a lonely wounded warrior company on a long, dark night. And some are like beauty queens….Their only goal in life is to make people happy.” She grinned. “And, of course, to end world hunger, stop climate change, and bring peace to the world.” “I’ve known dogs like that. They’re cuddlers.” Nick pretended to scowl. “I’m not a cuddler.” “I guessed that early on,” Jamie responded. Nick had been teasing. He felt a pang of disappointment that she had judged him so quickly and, apparently, found him lacking. True, he’d never been accused of being warm and fuzzy, but that kept his life from being complicated. He followed her down a center aisle with roomy kennels on each side. The sound of dogs barking was deafening, echoing off the walls and the tin roof. Every dog he passed watched him with bright, alert eyes. This was nothing like the dog pound he’d visited when he was a kid. The animals in there must have sensed that the euthanasia room was at the end of the hall, because their eyes had held only desperation and sadness, as if they already knew their fate. His dad had let him pick one, and he’d selected a pit bull/lab mix that had been his best friend for many years. And his last dog until now. They reached an open area, sort of like an arena for horses, but much smaller. Several skylights let in plenty of sunshine and dust motes sparkled in the light like glitter. The floor was groomed dirt, the tractor treads still visible, indicating it was probably a daily routine. The whole operation was remarkably clean and well organized, which, now that he’d met Jamie, came as no surprise. A portly man wearing a black baseball cap with a POW/MIA logo on it, a white T-shirt, and low-slung jeans went back to what appeared to be a storeroom, brought out a folding chair, and placed it in the very center. Nick’s chair, no doubt, so the dogs could check him out. He hoped it was comfortable, because he suspected it was going to be a long day. “Morning, Ralph. This is Nick. He’s a special agent with the DEA. Nick, this is Ralph.” “Morning, ma’am…Nick.” Ralph shook Nick’s hand. “You run this place for Jamie?” Ralph seemed stunned Nick would ask a question like that and glanced over at Jamie. She shrugged. “No, this is her place, and she runs it. Sure, I help, and we have some part-timers who keep it clean and feed and water the dogs. But I spend most of my time training the animals. I was a K9 handler in ’Nam.” “That’s cool.” Nick’s respect meter rose several degrees. Vietnam had been brutal on man and beast. “Did your dog get out?” A heavy sadness that had not been tempered by the years crossed his wrinkled face. “No, I got injured and woke up in a hospital in the States. I tried to find him, but he got left behind with the thousands of other K9s in the country.” He dropped his head to cover the moisture in his eyes. “Fucking crime. Those dogs saved thousands of our boys’ lives, and we fucking

left them in the jungle at the mercy of those gooks. Shit, they probably ate ’em.” “Well, on that cheerful thought, let’s find a dog for Nick,” Jamie interrupted. “Yes, ma’am. Who do you want to start with?” Ralph asked. “I want to try some of the camp dogs first.” “Yes, ma’am.” Ralph limped across the arena and toward the kennels at the end of the building. “The first ones you’re going to meet are rescues from a large litter abandoned at a migrant farm camp. They were skin and bones when we got them, but they had great heart and a will to live. I’m sure it was a pretty noisy environment, because they had no problem with the gunfire and crowd noise training.” “What language do they speak?” “Good question. They’re probably bilingual, but they speak English…Texas English, actually. They were only about six weeks old when we found them.” “That’s good. Getting a partner is enough adjustment for this year. I’ll think about learning Spanish next year. I always put that down on my personal-growth objectives at work, but somehow I never have the time to follow through.” Jamie gave him an amused look that clearly said she wasn’t surprised at his procrastination. Damn, it was like she could see into his soul. She handed him a rubber ball. “So, what’s the ball for?” he asked, rolling the round, thick rubber toy in his hand. “For you to play with the dogs to see if there’s a connection.” She gave him a “duh” look. “Of course, for your job it’s important that they have a good nose, although they’ve been trained to find narcotics, not rubber balls. All of the dogs you’ll meet today have been specially trained to find drugs.” “I hope so. I can screw up enough on my own,” Nick told her. “I’m counting on the dog’s nose to keep me out of trouble.” She looked at him solemnly. “I suspect no dog or human could keep you out of trouble.” But the twinkle in her eyes gave her away. She really did have his number. “Go sit in your chair and get ready to meet your new partner.” Nick felt ridiculous, sort of like he was being punished in grade school, as he crossed the dirt to the chair and sat. To his relief, Jamie followed him, but she hung out behind him so the dogs wouldn’t notice her first. Ralph returned with a smallish German shepherd/hound mix. Black and tan spotted, he trotted along eagerly. Once inside the arena, Ralph closed the gate behind him that led to the row of kennels, then he unclipped the lead from the dog’s collar. “Kind of gangly, isn’t he?” Nick asked. “This is Charlie. They all look like geeks at this age. Call him over.” Nick leaned forward and called for Charlie. The dog glanced at Nick but didn’t come closer. Nick knelt on the dirt and whistled, but Charlie was more interested in checking out the arena. Nick sat back in his chair and looked around at Jamie. “Not too good, huh?” “Charlie’s just not into you,” she responded wryly. “Ralph, next.” “Did I do okay?”

“You did fine. Charlie failed, but I’d give you a B minus. You acted a little nervous. They can sense that in you.” “Great. That’s one reason why I don’t date.” Ralph worked to keep up with the next dog as it raced toward Nick and Jamie. This one looked similar to Charlie but leaned more toward hound than shepherd. “This is Nicky, Nick.” “Really, Jamie? Don’t you think that would be a little awkward?” “Don’t you like your name?” she teased. “Not enough to say it a hundred times a day. Can you imagine the ribbing I’d get from my buddies?” “Just give it a try,” she encouraged. Nick knelt again and called for Nicky as soon as Ralph unleashed him. The dog’s long tail whipped back and forth as he crashed into Nick, knocking him over backward and covering his arms, face, and hands with sloppy licks. Jamie whistled loudly at Ralph and yelled, “Next.” Nick stood and dusted himself off. Unfortunately, the dirt had stuck on the wet spots and wouldn’t brush off until they dried. He looked at Jamie. “I feel assaulted.” “He’s enthusiastic,” she said in the dog’s defense. “No second date there.” “Did you want one?” “Not really. Too needy.” “Good call.” “Those two dogs are from the same litter?” he asked. “Yes, they all looked different. We’re not sure about their parentage, but we’re thinking probably German shepherd, some sort of hound, maybe even a little Labrador retriever.” “What a bitch!” Nick commented with a grin. “Obviously, she was looking for love in all the wrong places,” Jamie countered with a smile. Ralph returned with another dog, then another, and another, until Nick lost count. He felt like Goldilocks….One was too docile, one was too wild, one was too friendly, one was too aloof…and none were just right. Finally, after two hours, they took a break. Jamie and Nick returned to the house, where she showed him to the guest bathroom. The inside of the house was messier than he would have expected. There were empty beer cans on the end tables, magazines piled next to the couch, and even a pair of dirty men’s socks on the floor by the magazines. Who the hell felt comfortable enough in Jamie’s house to take their socks off? When he finished washing up in the bathroom, he joined Jamie in the kitchen and saw there were dirty dishes in the sink. Either she was a terrible housekeeper or she was sharing her house with a very messy person. He wanted to ask, but even with his lax filter, he hesitated to get that personal. Jamie took a pitcher of cold lemonade out of the refrigerator and poured three big glasses. She handed one to Nick and took one herself.

Nick hadn’t drunk straight lemonade in years. Even Grammy spiked hers. “This would taste a lot better with vodka.” She laughed out loud. “You know, I was thinking the same thing.” She took a bottle of vodka out of the freezer and poured a splash into their glasses. Nick stirred it with his finger and took a sip. “Better.” She took a generous drink. “I agree.” “I guess I’m hopeless,” Nick stated, a little exhausted from the intensity of the search. Most of the dogs were really nice, but there had been no love connection. The thought of spending twelve hours a day with a Labradoodle in his truck made him cringe. “I had high hopes for Maverick,” Jamie said with a disappointed sigh. “He’s got a great nose and is super friendly.” “Too friendly. I felt more like I was adopting a child than getting a partner.” Nick remembered the chocolate Lab well. The dog had tried so hard to get Nick to like him. Too hard. Nick always liked the challenge of a woman who played hard to get. Maybe he had the same feeling about a dog. He didn’t want one that needed his love that much. It was too much responsibility to live up to the dog’s exalted opinion of him. What he wanted was more of an equal. Independent and able to take care of himself to a certain extent and not constantly requiring attention. None of the dogs he’d met today even came close. Jamie picked up the extra lemonade in one hand and her own in the other. “Let’s go back to the kennel. I have an idea,” she said. Thank God for vodka, Nick thought as he took his glass and followed her back outside. Ralph accepted his glass of lemonade gratefully. Jamie, Nick, and Ralph sat on the small bleachers that stood on one side of the arena. “What dog do you want to try next?” Ralph asked. “I’m thinking we should give Harley a shot,” she answered. Ralph’s expression was skeptical. “Are you sure?” She hesitated, then nodded. “I know he’s a little antisocial, but he’s smart and honest. I think he just needs the right person.” “Don’t we all?” Nick quipped. Ralph was still not convinced, but he didn’t argue as he took his leash and went back down the row. “What’s Harley’s story?” Nick asked. “He’s a rescue that belonged to a soldier who was deployed and didn’t come home. The boy’s parents couldn’t have such a big dog in their apartment, so they brought him out here and asked if I could find him a good home,” Jamie explained. “He’s a terrific dog, but he’s a little too strong-willed for most people. He’s an alpha with a capital A.” That didn’t scare Nick away. He knew enough about dogs to know that antisocial could mean anything from a dog that didn’t want any human or other animal contact to a dog that just liked to do his own thing. Dogs were generally pack animals and enjoyed being around other dogs or people. Maybe Harley preferred to go it alone. That was a sentiment to which Nick could relate.

Ralph reentered the arena with a large German shepherd. He was a reddish tan with a large black saddle, ears, and muzzle. There was no denying his beauty and good breeding. Ralph shut the gate and unclipped the leash. “Harley, come,” Nick called. The dog studied him with such intensity that Nick almost felt uncomfortable. It was the first time he understood what Jamie had meant about the dog making the choice. Harley was clearly judging the man and trying to decide if he was trustworthy. Nick didn’t feel the need to kneel. Harley was in charge. Finally Harley moved. Decisively and confidently, he trotted directly to Nick and sat down in front of him, his back straight and his head up with ears perked to perfect points as if at attention. His tail thumped once, hopeful but noncommittal. Nick held his hand out, allowing Harley the chance to smell and accept it. The dog’s nostrils flared as he processed the man’s scent. He touched Nick’s hand with his cold, wet nose and nudged slightly, encouraging further contact. Nick stroked the dog’s head. “Hi, Harley. You probably heard through the grapevine that I’m looking for a partner. Are you interested?” Harley lifted one paw and placed it on Nick’s knee. After a moment of looking into the dog’s big, chocolate brown eyes, Nick spoke to Jamie over his shoulder. “Why didn’t you bring him out earlier?” “We’ve had him for only two months, so his training isn’t completely finished. It usually takes adult dogs about six months to a year.” Nick held the ball out for Harley to see and smell, then he threw it across the arena. Harley didn’t move a muscle. Maybe he wasn’t as bright as he seemed. “Harley, fetch the ball,” Jamie said. Harley streaked across the arena, straight for the ball. Even though he hadn’t seen it roll behind a bucket by the gate, he knew exactly where it was. He retrieved it and trotted back, the red ball clutched in his teeth. But instead of taking it to Jamie, he trotted over to Nick and dropped it at the man’s feet. Jamie met Nick’s gaze and smiled. “I think you passed the audition.” She turned to Ralph. “Please take Harley back to his kennel.” Ralph nodded, attached the leash to Harley’s collar, and led him away. The dog followed without protest, but at the gate he paused and looked back at Nick for several seconds before obeying Ralph’s tug on the leash to continue. “Let’s go into my office,” Jamie suggested. She led the way to a large room next to the storeroom. A skylight broke the monotony of the corrugated barn roof. Oak planks covered the floors, with several throw rugs adding color. While Jamie pulled Nick a beer from the mini fridge in the kitchenette, he checked out the photos, plaques, and ribbons that covered the wall next to the potbelly stove in the corner of the front room. He called out, “Impressive.” Jamie walked up behind him. “Thanks. Entering my dogs in performance shows is a great way to get noticed. I’ve got probably ten boxes of trophies and ribbons in the next barn over. My dogs are winners.” She handed a cold bottle of beer to him. “My next project is to build a trophy room just inside this kennel so people who are visiting can’t miss it.” There was a big wooden desk on the front wall and a tall four-drawer metal filing cabinet.

Two comfortable-looking recliners were grouped in front of a flat-screen TV. A paneled screen made of rice paper and a black wooden frame divided the room, hiding the area beyond, but Nick could see the foot of an antique iron bed. “Does someone live in here?” he asked. “I do.” She indicated one of the recliners and sat on the other. “What do you think about Harley?” “He was a lot different than the rest.” Jamie’s expression was serious. “Harley hasn’t been an easy case.” “He seems to be well trained.” “Oh, he’s amazing…intelligent and quick to learn. But he just hasn’t responded well to us and his surroundings.” Her eyes grew sad. “I think his heart was broken when his master didn’t come home.” “That makes him unadoptable?” “He’s been waiting for the right person…and I think he chose you.” She paused. “I’ll be honest. I’m a little hesitant about putting you two together. You’re not all in on this whole K9 buddy idea, and Harley needs more than you have to give.” Nick was a little insulted by her assumption that he couldn’t take care of a dog. Sure, he had been thinking the same thing in the beginning, but now that he had gotten used to the idea, he was willing to give it a try. “Contrary to what Bobbi may have told you, I’m very responsible.” “I don’t doubt that. You wouldn’t be successful in your career if you weren’t. But I don’t mean food and water. German shepherds can be one-person dogs. If something happens to that person, they might never be able to recover. I’ve heard of many cases of dogs dying of a broken heart.” Nick considered that. On some level he understood. When he’d caught his ex-wife cheating on him, it had destroyed his faith in women and his desire to ever get involved in a long-term relationship again. “But he’s never reacted like he did with you today,” Jamie continued. “I would love for Harley to be able to move on and accept another master. You two could be really good for each other.” “Are you implying that I’m damaged too?” Nick asked lightly, making it sound like a joke when it was actually a sincere question. She met his gaze steadily. “Aren’t you?” “Maybe a little,” Nick admitted reluctantly. Her perceptiveness was disconcerting. “Don’t get all weird about it,” she admonished. “I’m not saying it’s a bad thing. It’s how we cope with the tragedies of life.” Nick studied her through narrowed eyes. “You too?” She shrugged. “Yeah, me too. I know what it feels like to lose the love of my life. But I like Harley. He has the potential to be a great dog. I had just about given up hope that he’d be able to accept a new master. Do you think you can handle that?” In truth, Nick wasn’t sure. But he never backed down from a challenge. And he had felt an immediate connection with the dog. Plus, it practically guaranteed that he would get to spend

more time with his frustrating, strangely exciting trainer. “I’d like to give it a try.” Jamie smiled. “Well, then, it’s Harley for you.” “Now what?” “Are you set up at home for him?” “Set up? Like what?” “A dry, clean, warm place for him to sleep at night. A place for his bowls, large ones so he can’t tip them over. Dogs like routine, so you need to feed him at approximately the same time every day, make sure his water is always fresh, and walk him regularly. Shepherds shed a lot and can smell a little doggy, so you’ll have to figure out how to bathe him at home or find one of those dog-wash places. You also should look for a dog park where you can work on socializing him. We did some, and he did fine, but he’ll be in a lot of stressful situations, so he’ll need some downtime playing and just being a dog.” Nick’s eyes widened and he felt like his head was going to explode as she rattled off what Harley needed. Jamie stood and walked to her desk, where she picked up a piece of paper, stuck it on a clipboard, then handed it and a pen to Nick. “I’ll need your phone number and home address. I’ve got a list of vets and some emergency clinics. I’m sure one will be close to where you live.” Nick filled out the form and handed the clipboard back to her. “You’re painting a pretty dark picture.” “Having a service dog is a big responsibility. He takes his job seriously and will become very attached to you. Giving him the attention he needs might cut into your personal time.” “Ha…No problem there. Harley will have more of a social life at the dog park than I do.” Jamie looked out the window at the dogs in their runs. She spoke wistfully, almost as if she’d forgotten Nick was there. “They’ll keep you busy during the day, but they don’t do much for long, lonely nights.” Nick wasn’t the most sensitive man on earth, but even he could see that she’d tapped into a darkness that she usually kept tucked away. He wished he had a magic secret he could share that would take her pain away. But he had plenty of haunting memories of his own…his exwife, his time in the military, and cases gone horribly wrong. He’d tried all the usual ways to self-medicate. Sometimes they worked; more often they didn’t. He suspected Jamie had too… with similar results. “The nights are better when you’re not alone,” he commented. “Sounds like the voice of experience.” She turned her attention back to him. “Why aren’t you taking your own advice?” “I tried marriage, and that didn’t work out. I’m not great with relationships.” “Probably just as well, considering your occupation. Fewer widows that way.” “I’m careful.” “Yeah, so was my husband. Right up until the moment a guy stepped up behind him and shot him in the head.” Her eyes filled with tears, and she roughly brushed them away. Nick remembered the incident. It had been a random case of a guy out to kill a cop, and apparently Jamie’s husband had been the unlucky man in uniform the gunman encountered. Nick had been in the area on a case and arrived on Sixth Street shortly after the call went out.

Her husband had been lying on the street, next to his patrol car. He hadn’t drawn his gun or called for help. It had apparently been a completely unexpected attack in a busy area of Austin that was usually relatively safe. There had been plenty of witnesses, but the guy had never been caught. Nick, along with several thousand other cops and related agencies, had gone to Jamie’s husband’s funeral. He hadn’t paid much attention to the widow then. He’d been to too many funerals, and he’d learned to steel his heart to get through them. From her reaction, it was clear her own wound was still raw, so he didn’t think that now was the time for him to discuss any of this with her. She stood, and Nick knew the interview was over. He followed her out of the kennel. At the bottom of her porch steps, she stopped and gave him a generic smile. Nick knew he wasn’t traditionally handsome, but he had a rugged masculinity that most women found charming. Jamie, however, showed absolutely no sign of being the least bit attracted to him. Nick was more disappointed than hurt. She was hot, lonely, and would make a pleasant diversion. Clearly that wasn’t going to happen. “I’ve got a long list of supplies that I need to get for Harley. Can I call you later if I have any questions?” “Of course you can. I’ll always be Harley’s mom. You know how it is.” “I wish you hadn’t said that.” Nick shook his head. “Now you’ve ruined the fantasy.” Jamie laughed but didn’t take the bait. “And on that note…I better run. Same time tomorrow?” “I’ll have the coffee ready. You can bring the doughnuts.” “You bet.” Nick headed toward his truck. “Oh, and Nick?” Jamie called to him from the porch. “Yeah?” “Your training officially starts tomorrow.”

Chapter 4 As she watched his black truck drive away, Jamie heaved a big sigh of relief. Being around Nick had been exhausting. There was something powerful about his personality that put all of her nerve endings on high alert. The testosterone radiated off him. He was exactly the kind of man she was determined to avoid. And yet she had never been so attracted. Jamie worked with men all the time, mostly veterans needing service dogs and also a few cops from smaller police departments. Most of her clientele was male, so being around Nick shouldn’t have been so taxing. She carried the mugs and carafe into the house, trying hard to ignore the dirty clothes and dirty plates in the living room as she walked through. She had vowed not to clean up after her brother, Jared, who had been living with her since he got out of the hospital a year ago. But she couldn’t stand looking at the messy kitchen. It took only a few minutes to unload, then reload the dishwasher, wipe off the counters and table, and sweep the floor. It was mindless work that left her time to think about things she’d rather not think about. Woof Gang was her whole life since her husband’s death. And as much as she loved the dogs and the wounded warriors, the nights alone were brutal. She was still horrified that she had admitted as much to Nick, a total stranger. Jeez, he must have thought she was making a play for him. But then, he was probably used to women saying suggestive things to get his attention. She hadn’t meant it to be suggestive…and she definitely was not trying to get his attention. The one thing Jamie absolutely didn’t want in her life was a man. Actually, she already had one man too many. She hung the dish towel on the towel bar and turned on the dishwasher, then grabbed an apple out of a bowl on the table and headed back to the kennels. As she passed through the living room again, she frowned at the clutter. She had been giving Jared time to adjust to his new life after losing his legs fighting in Afghanistan. But enough time had passed that he was physically healed from the wounds. His emotional recovery was taking a little longer, but at least he was going to VA meetings and hanging out with friends again. She accidentally kicked a pizza box that was halfway under the couch and a couple of shriveled-up, dried-out pieces slid across the wooden floor. Jamie refused to pick up after him anymore. Tonight she would have a talk with him. He was living in the house rent free, so helping her take care of the place was the least he could do. Jamie hadn’t slept in the house since the day of Mike’s funeral. The bed was too big and everything in the room reminded her of him. She couldn’t look at the dove gray walls without seeing him on a ladder, painting the edges while she rolled the easy parts. She had tried sleeping on the front porch, but summer nights in Austin are often steamy and buggy, so she had moved into the storeroom in the kennel, where she had a cot for those nights she stayed up with a sick dog or one who was whelping. It was warm and dry and blessedly absent of

memories of Mike, since he had seldom helped in the kennels. Then, when Jared moved in, she had hired someone to build her a real bedroom and full bathroom out there. Of course, she would never kick Jared out, no matter how annoying he was. As her older brother, he had always been her protector and her hero. He had left all that behind on the battlefield. Now he was more of a tattered stray who had wandered to her house and needed a place to hide and lick his wounds. But even her dogs had jobs to do, and it was time Jared did too. Back in the kennels, she started the process of feeding the dogs. It took about an hour to measure out the food and deliver the bowls to each of them. Three days a week, two college kids helped out on an internship as they worked toward veterinary degrees. But today it was just Jamie and Ralph, who was busy training some of the dogs, and Jose, who did lawn care and maintenance. Sometimes she felt overwhelmed running the business on her own. It was her dream to be the one working with the dogs, but there was all the administrative work that demanded her time and energy. She woke early in the morning and fell into bed around ten o’clock each night. She couldn’t remember the last time she had seen a movie or done anything just for fun. Dating was out of the question. What man would want to play second fiddle to thirty-five dogs? Not that she wanted to date. Mike’s death had crushed her. One minute she had been blissfully happy, married to a kind, gentle, wonderful man who adored her. And the next minute she had been a widow. She had been broken, much like Jared. But her recovery time had had to be brief because she had the responsibility of the kennels. The dogs had become her life, and the mundane task of their feeding and training had been the therapy she needed to pull her through. Now she could think of Mike and their happy years without crying. She missed him every day, but she had accepted that that part of her life was over forever. And because she had had the best, she couldn’t imagine herself ever falling in love again. Inexplicably, Nick’s face pushed into her thoughts. He was totally inappropriate for a longterm relationship and definitely not husband material. But he was the first man she had been around in years who made her wish she had taken time this morning to put on some mascara and comb her hair. He had an animal magnetism that made her skin tingle every time he touched her or when their eyes met. She had even caught herself admiring the width of his shoulders and the way he filled out his jeans in all the right places. Oh God, she was acting like a horny teenager, checking out a man’s crotch. Truth was, she was a horny twenty-eight-year-old. While she missed the companionship most of all, she also missed the sex. She was too young for her sex life to be over. But she didn’t want the relationship that went along with it, and a vibrator just didn’t do it for her. It was too bad she couldn’t find a man who would take care of her sexual needs without any kind of expectations. Men did that all the time. Why couldn’t women do it too? Friends with benefits sounded like a pretty sensible solution. Unfortunately, Jamie didn’t know any men she was attracted to in that way. Okay, there was Nick, but he was a little too rough around the edges. Nick, Nick, Nick…Why did his name keep popping into her head? He was the polar opposite

of her dear, sweet Mike. They were both in law enforcement, but that was a major negative. Her husband had been medium height, with short blond hair that was always neatly trimmed and no scruff ever. Nick, on the other hand, looked like he had just rolled out of bed. His dark brown hair was shaggy and a couple weeks past a trim. Five o’clock shadow shaded his square jaws…and it hadn’t even been afternoon. He was tall, probably an inch or two over six feet, long and lean. He didn’t make her think husband…but he definitely made her think lover. She stacked the filled dog bowls on a flatbed wagon and wiped her hands. It was ridiculous and totally unlike her to even think about having sex for fun. Besides, Nick didn’t strike her as a man who lacked willing partners. Even if she dared bring it up, he’d never agree to such a preposterous proposal. Would he? — Nick was concentrating on all the things he had to do to get ready for his new roommate. Of course, Jamie’s tight little ass and long legs got their share of time in his thoughts as he went over the events of the day. It was after four when he pulled into a parking space at the store nearest his townhouse. He picked up his phone from the seat and saw that he had a missed call from Bobbi. Shit! He’d completely forgotten he was supposed to meet in her office. He didn’t bother listening to the voicemail but hit redial. She answered on the first ring. “Hey, it’s me, Bobbi. I just got back into Austin. Sorry I missed the meeting. It was a crazy day.” “Are you alone?” Nick’s forehead wrinkled. His first thought was to wonder why Bobbi would expect Jamie to be with him. “Alone? Why wouldn’t I be?” “Did you get a partner today?” Oh, of course, she meant the dog. “I spent six hours looking at dogs.” “Did you find one that might work out?” “He kinda picked me.” Nick smiled ruefully. “That’s quite an operation. Jamie’s really amazing.” “She knows everything about service dogs.” Nick refrained from commenting that he’d been impressed by her ease with the dogs but even more impressed by her hotness and unavailability, both of which were powerful turnons. He knew Bobbi wouldn’t approve, and he wasn’t in the mood for a lecture. “So, did you bring him home with you today?” “No. Apparently I have to be trained. And she gave me a long list of bowls, food, a bed, and all that stuff that I have to buy for him. Is all this covered in my expense report, by the way?” “Within reason.” “Tomorrow she’s taking me and Harley to downtown Dripping Springs to work in a crowd. Although I’m not sure where she’s going to find a crowd in Dripping Springs.” It was a sleepy little bedroom community with most of its residents driving to jobs in Austin each day. “Harley? Cool name. Listen, after you’re back tomorrow, we need to meet with the U.S. District Attorney. We had another student die last night from those loosie-goosey cigarettes.”

“Fuck. I bought some from a guy, so I’ve got one of every flavor with me. I’m going to use them to train Harley.” He was torn between his desire to stretch the training out so he could spend more time with Jamie and his desire to speed it up so he could find the lab and shut this whole operation down before another kid died. “How’s everything else…there?” “You mean the congressman? He’s still threatening to go over my head and initiate a formal inquiry.” “Inquiry? About that little incident the other night?” “No, about you personally. He thinks you’re bad for the department. With all the talk about bad cops lately, the timing of this couldn’t be worse. He’s really pissed, so keep your mouth shut if any reporters contact you, and try to avoid getting served while you’re at it. Stay below the radar. Can you do that?” Nick exhaled and stared at the shoppers entering and leaving Walmart. “Okay, I’ll try to be a good boy.” “See you at three. No later.” She didn’t wait for his answer but hung up. Nick put his phone in his pocket, stuck his pistol in its usual spot in the back of his belt, and headed into the store. He stared at the row of collars, leashes, bowls, and other accessories. There wasn’t much Nick hated worse than shopping. He went down the aisle and tossed things into his basket, adding a bag of pigs’ ears and another hard rubber toy at the last minute. It wasn’t beneath him to offer a bribe to win Harley over. On his way to the register, he looked around for something that would win Jamie’s approval. He wouldn’t hesitate to bribe her either. — Nick drove up the long drive to Woof Gang Kennels with a box of Krispy Kreme doughnuts and the receipt for nearly $150 of dog supplies on the passenger seat. He also brought the collar and short leash for Jamie’s approval. He noticed her as soon as the house came into view. She was sitting on the porch, reading a book. She looked up as he parked and approached the house with the box of doughnuts. “Oh…Krispy Kreme! My favorite!” she exclaimed and stood up to greet him…or was it just to take the doughnuts out of his hand? The smile on her face told him he had made the right choice. It had been worth the extra half hour out of his way to pick up something that she appreciated that much. She placed the box on the table with the reverence usually given to prized possessions, then filled their mugs from the carafe. “I haven’t had Krispy Kremes in…I can’t remember how long.” She picked up a glazed doughnut and took a bite. A look of pure bliss crossed her face. “Yum…They melt in your mouth.” Nick blinked, unreasonably aroused by her moans. He wanted to see that blissful expression and hear those sounds when she was under him, having the best orgasm of her life. More than anything, he wanted to be that doughnut in her mouth. “May I have another one?” she asked, sucking the sugar off her fingers. “Help yourself. I brought them for you.” For God’s sake, woman, use a napkin.

Nick took a doughnut and ate it, more to distract himself than because he wanted it. She took a third one, offered the box to him, then shut the lid. He appreciated a woman with a good appetite, especially when she appeared to be in excellent shape. Thank goodness she didn’t live closer to a Krispy Kreme store. He waited until she was finished and her fingers were clean before handing her the receipt. “Did I forget anything?” Jamie laughed. “Looks like you cleaned out the store. This is going to be one spoiled dog. Three different sizes of rubber chew toys?” Nick shrugged. “Didn’t know what kind he’d like.” The screen door swung open, slamming against the outside wall. A man, about Nick’s age and supported by two walking forearm crutches, worked his way to the center of the porch. “Hey, Jared,” Jamie said. “This is DEA agent Nick. He’s the one taking Harley.” “Hi,” Nick said, but made no effort to shake his hand to avoid an awkward juggle of crutches. Jared nodded, but his gaze swept up and down Nick critically. “Where’s Bobo?” Jamie asked. Jared jerked his head back toward the house. “He’s eating. Do you need anything in town? Jose and I are heading to McMurray’s Feed Store.” Jamie thought for a moment before asking, “Did you get the list off the fridge?” Jared balanced on one crutch and lifted the hem of his T-shirt with the other hand to reveal a piece of paper that had been stuffed inside his pocket. “That should be everything,” Jamie confirmed. “Oh…if you have time, I’d like a couple of bottles of red wine. I’m running low.” “Feed-store wine?” Nick asked. “Ha-ha,” she said to Nick, then to Jared she added, “The grocery store will do.” “Gotcha,” Jared said, confirming, and went back inside, letting the screen door slap shut behind him. Nick tried not to pry, but he couldn’t resist adding, “Hot date?” “Hot date?” She snorted as if the idea were preposterous. “Sure, why not?” Nick found himself glancing toward the front door. It was clear that Jared either lived in the house or was very familiar with it. Nick had been under the assumption that Jamie lived alone. “Can I ask you something?” “Sure.” He was uncomfortable inquiring, but it would bug him until he knew the answer. “Look, I know it’s none of my business, but who’s Jared?” Jamie placed the receipt on the table between them and refilled their coffee. She sat back in the chair and cradled the warm mug between her hands before answering. “Why do you ask?” She kept her expression bland, but the twinkle in her eyes told him she was baiting him. The ball was back in Nick’s court, and he’d never been much of a game player. He was trained to put the perp on the defense. It usually worked well on dates too. “Good for you. It’s healthy that you’re dating again.” Nick smiled. Warmly, he hoped.

Jamie’s eyes narrowed as she hesitated. She took another sip of coffee, put down her mug, and picked up the receipt. “What is a migrator duck toy?” So she was going to play it that way? Nick couldn’t help but smile. She was a worthy opponent. “It looks like a dead duck with a squeaker in it, so it’ll make noise when he bites down. And no stuffing.” “A dead duck that squeaks? Really? You need to keep his toys in line with his job. Cocaine doesn’t squeak.” Nick found himself focusing on her full, pink lips. There was a flake of sugar stuck in the corner, and he wanted desperately to lick it off. Of course, that would turn into a passionate kiss. He’d make her forget this Jared and every other guy. She must have followed the focus of his gaze, and the tip of her tongue reached out to capture the piece of sugar. Nick shifted uncomfortably, conscious of his body reacting to the unintentional tease. He felt his cock bulging against the zipper of his jeans, and he crossed his legs, one ankle on top of his knee, hoping she wouldn’t notice. “So what’s first on the agenda today?” “Let’s go over your instructions before we load Harley up and head to town.” At that moment Jared limped back outside, followed by a three-legged dog. He leaned over and dropped a kiss on top of Jamie’s head. “See you later.” “Be careful. Tell Jose not to speed. One more ticket and he loses his license,” Jamie said. A young Hispanic man came out of the kennel, and Jared eased his way down the steps with Bobo hopping along behind. They walked to one of the company trucks, got in, and drove off. Seeing Jared had cooled Nick down. He didn’t bother repeating his question even though his curiosity was burning hot. “You said you have some contraband for today?” Jamie said, continuing as if nothing unusual had happened. Apparently for her it hadn’t. “Yeah, I got one of each flavor.” Nick pulled the package out of his shirt pocket. Jamie studied the loosies and sniffed them, one by one. “They each smell different. That’s good. I’ll show you how to do it with one, and then you can do the others at home. The process will be the same.” “Okay.” “Harley’s command library is simple and few at this point. Harley, heel to make him walk next to you…It should be on your left side. Use his first name before the other commands, such as Harley, come, Harley, sit, Harley, seek. Got it?” “Does he shake hands?” Jamie looked at Nick with some disdain. “He’s not a circus dog, Nick. If you want to waste his time by teaching him to shake hands and roll over, that’s up to you. But he won’t learn that here.” Nick sensed Jamie didn’t appreciate any humanization of Harley. “I thought he was supposed to become part of the family?” She slid him an amused look. “Do the members of your family roll over on command? I’ll bet your reunions are interesting.”

“Actually, none of us ever learned to roll over or play dead.” Nick laughed. “You’ll have to come meet my brothers at Grammy’s. My hat’s off to you if you can teach them anything.” “I’m much better at training animals than people. Animals listen…and they try to please. People aren’t controllable.” Nick couldn’t argue with that. It was a truth he saw every day on the job. Once a dealer, always a dealer. “You’ll need to take Harley with you as often as possible to keep him socialized. He needs to get used to loud noises and big crowds while learning to focus on your commands. His soldier loved him and treated him well, but I doubt he did any kind of formal training. Whenever Harley turns and looks at you and seems confused, it’s because he’s waiting for his next command. Can you handle that?” Nick nodded. It didn’t sound hard…but it was a hell of a lot to remember. “Let’s head to the arena. I want to see you handle him.” For not the first time since he’d met her, he felt like he was back in elementary school, where he’d had to show his work on math problems. Of course, his teacher hadn’t been nearly as sexy as Jamie or he might have done better in class. Ralph was working with an Irish setter mix in the arena, so Jamie led the way to the third kennel building. “What did he do to get exiled to the end?” Nick asked as they passed pen after pen of barking dogs. “They get placed in whatever pen is empty at the time. But Harley’s kind of a loner, so I think he prefers being as far out of the noise as possible.” Unlike the other dogs, who were clamoring for attention, Harley sat at the front of his pen, his alert eyes missing nothing. When he saw Jamie and Nick approaching, he stood and panted, his long, pink tongue lolling out of his mouth. “It looks like he’s smiling,” Nick commented. “I think he is,” Jamie agreed. She unclipped a small carabiner from the gate latch. “You’ll have to get security locks on your doors if you don’t already have them. Harley’s kind of a Houdini when it comes to opening gates and handles. Shepherds are masters at that.” She handed Nick the leash that had been hanging by the pen. “Bring him outside.” Nick held out his hand and let Harley sniff it to refresh his memory. Harley didn’t push or try to escape as Nick opened the gate and clipped the leash to his collar. “Good boy.” Nick rubbed Harley’s head and scratched his ears. Harley leaned his head into Nick’s hand, encouraging him to continue. “You’ve made a friend for life,” Jamie said with a chuckle. “Harley, heel,” Nick commanded, and Harley immediately responded, moving to the man’s left side. Nick started walking, and Harley kept pace at the proper position. “He’s doing pretty well, isn’t he?” Nick was pleased with his progress. But Jamie shook her head. “Harley’s doing great. However, you’re holding the leash wrong. It should be in your right hand and crossed in front of you. And keep it loose. Relax your arm.” “Really?” Nick fumbled with the leash, changing it to his other hand and trying not to get

tangled up in it. Harley waited patiently, his lips spread. If he had been smiling before, he was laughing now. “Sooner or later, you’re going to do something to make her scold you too,” Nick told Harley in a loud whisper. “Let’s try it again,” Jamie said, trying to be serious, but the laughter in her eyes gave her away. Nick circled the yard with Harley close to his hip. The dog obeyed quickly commands to sit and stay. “Sometimes you’re going to need him to stand at your other side,” Jamie told Nick. “Just pat your hip and say, ‘Harley, right here.’ He probably doesn’t know that command, so you’ll have to work with him on both sides.” Nick tried it, and Harley gave him a curious look but didn’t obey until Nick tugged on his leash and positioned him. After only a couple demonstrations, Harley picked it up, then looked up at Nick as if to say That was fun. What’s next? They kept practicing for an hour until Jamie could find no fault with either of them, then she showed Nick how to train Harley to find loosies. They worked on that for another hour until Nick collapsed on a wooden bench under an ancient live oak tree, and Harley plopped down at Nick’s feet on the cool grass. “Were you ever in the military?” Jamie seemed surprised by the question. “No, why?” “You’d make a great drill sergeant.” “Ha! I’m going easy on you today.” Nick groaned and slumped back until his head rested against the tree’s rough bark. “But now I think you’ve earned a reward. Let’s go into town for lunch…my treat.” Nick jumped to his feet before she could change her mind and make him walk that damn circle ten more times. “Let’s go. But lunch goes on my expense account. This is definitely work related.” He picked up Harley’s leash. “We’ll take my truck. Harley might as well get used to it. He’s going to be spending a lot of time in there.” They walked together to his truck and Nick led Harley around it, giving the dog time to check it out. Nick opened the back door to the crew cab area and was about to encourage Harley to jump in when Jamie stopped him. “Don’t let him jump in and out on his own schedule. You should always be in control.” “Harley, sit,” Nick said and made eye contact with the dog. Harley’s butt dropped to the ground. “Good boy. Harley, up.” Nick moved aside to offer a clear path into the back and tugged on the leash. The truck was a four-wheel drive and had high ground clearance, but Harley made it onto the backseat in two big leaps, using the running board as a step. Nick rewarded the dog with an affectionate pat and another Good boy. He would have hurried around and opened the passenger-side door for Jamie, but she was already in by the time he got Harley loaded. She was busy trying to make space for her feet among the layers of fastfood wrappers and wadded-up pieces of scrap paper. Nick hurried around and started stuffing everything into an old paper bag. “Sorry about that. I kind of live out of my car.” “And you obviously never drive past a garbage can,” she commented wryly. He tossed the bag in the back, climbed in, and started the engine. “Where to?”

“Broken Spoke has open-face roast beef sandwiches on sale today,” Jamie answered. “Just head downtown. You can’t miss it.” The drive to Broken Spoke was less than five miles farther down Highway 290. There was a big sign in front that consisted of a ten-foot-diameter wagon wheel and an extremely tall cowboy leaning against it. It was, indeed, impossible to miss. It was just past noon, and the gravel parking lot was crowded with crew-cab trucks similar to Nick’s, a few horse trailers, and several older vehicles. This was clearly a hangout for locals rather than a tourist spot. “The spokes in the wheel rotate around at night except for the broken one,” Jamie told him as they turned in. “The cowboy’s boots move in time with the honky-tonk music playing in the parking lot.” Nick pushed the lever into park and extracted the keys. “Bet the neighbors love that.” “It’s only on Fridays and Saturdays and everyone is here, so there’s no one home to bother.” She opened her door and hopped out before Nick was even out of the truck. A little frustrated with her insistence on taking care of everything herself, Nick had slammed his door and started toward the restaurant when Jamie called out, “What about Harley?” Nick slid to a stop, pivoted, and headed back to the truck. “Right.” He unlocked the vehicle and opened the back door slowly. Harley crowded the doorway, ready to jump down, but Nick ordered, “Harley, sit.” The dog obeyed, a little reluctantly. Nick smiled when he saw the movement of Harley’s tail as it swung rapidly side to side in anticipation of getting out of the truck. He was clearly excited about the field trip, but he didn’t hop down until Nick told him to. Man and dog joined Jamie, and they entered the restaurant. Harley lifted his nose and sniffed the air with interest. “He likes the food here?” Nick asked. “Harley’s never been here before, but he must sense that they’re dog friendly. They give their canine customers a dog biscuit and a bowl of water. Look for places like this….They’re all over Austin.” Nick smiled, then tried to remember if the Jackalope or any of his personal watering holes were dog friendly. Jamie was perceptive. “You don’t go to those kinds of places, do you?” She laughed. “I’d like to have a drone follow you around for the first month to see all the adjustments to your lifestyle.” “Hi, Jamie,” greeted the middle-aged hostess in tight jeans, a ruffled blouse, and high boots. “Who’s this guy?” “This is Harley.” Jamie smiled. The hostess reached out to shake Nick’s hand. “Hello, Harley. Welcome to the Broken Spoke.” Nick grimaced. “I’m Nick.” He glanced down at his dog. “This is Harley.” The hostess laughed off the mix-up. “I thought Harley was an interesting name.” “Sorry about that,” Jamie apologized. “I’m used to coming here with dogs, not men.” The woman’s brass name tag read CASEY . “Bet you don’t live around here, do you?” she

asked Nick. “You win. I don’t. I live in Austin, but my grandmother lives nearby.” “I probably know her. What’s her name?” “Susan Archer,” Nick said. “Oh, you mean Grammy? She comes in here and sits in with the band sometimes,” Casey said with enthusiasm. “She’s amazing. And so funny.” Nick knew his grandmother, who had been an opening act for many famous musicians back in the day, still loved to drop in on bars and restaurants when her old friends were playing there. And they usually invited her onstage to jam with them. But to him she was just his grammy, and it seemed odd to hear a stranger rave about her. “I’ve never seen her perform,” he admitted. “Shame on you, young man. You’re missing out on a real talent,” Casey declared. “Whoa.” Nick held up his hands. “I promise to check it out.” Casey picked up a couple of menus. “For a minute there, I thought you’d brought this young man here for me. But you two look good together.” She laughed out loud. “Out on the deck?” “That’d be fine,” Jamie said as she followed Casey outside near a small pond at the back of the building. “You know the specials as well as I do. Two iced teas?” Casey asked. “Thanks, that sounds good.” Casey placed the menus on a table, then left to get their drinks. “Make sure Harley is parked out of the aisle,” Jamie told Nick. “Yes, ma’am.” He coaxed Harley to a spot between him and the outside stone wall. “So you’re the matchmaker around here?” Jamie scooted her chair closer to the table. “I fixed her up with someone a long time ago, and for a while it was going great. But the guy turned out to be a bastard, and she had to get a restraining order.” “Bad background check?” “Didn’t do one. He worked for me for a while, and he seemed like a good guy. Then bang!” Jamie snapped her fingers to add emphasis. “You were lucky he didn’t hurt you.” She winked. “I’m a Texas woman. We don’t run…we reload.” “I’ll keep that in mind.” Nick opened the menu, but nothing looked as good as the day’s special. Nick thought it was a good time to return to the subject that he couldn’t seem to get off his mind. “Who is Jared?” Jamie looked at him. “Why are you so insistent on finding out?” Nick wasn’t quite sure, but it was burning inside of him. Was Jared her lover? He didn’t appear to be working with the dogs, but he was quite at home there. “Just curious.” “Hmm…” “Here’s your drinks.” Casey returned and placed a sweating glass of iced tea in front of each of them and handed Nick a bowl of water for Harley. “Ready to order?”

“I’ll take the roast beef sandwich with the smashed potatoes,” Jamie answered. “Harley?” Casey smiled. “Same.” Nick laughed. “And an extra plate for the dog.” He bent down and set the bowl of water on the floor next to Harley, who immediately started lapping it up. Casey nodded and walked away. “How’s he doing?” Jamie asked. Harley was halfway under the table, so she couldn’t get a good look at him. Nick glanced at Harley, who was facing out, keeping an eye on the crowd. His chin was resting on his paws, but his ears were pointed and alert. “Does he ever relax?” “Service dogs are constantly on duty when you’re in public. It’s a natural instinct to protect their masters. Once he gets used to your home and knows when you’re not stressed, he’ll relax.” “So, again I ask, who’s Jared?” “If you must know…he’s my brother. He and his dog lost limbs in Afghanistan. When he came home, he was in pretty bad shape. It took me months to track down his dog and get him over here, but Bobo has been the best medicine Jared could have gotten. Jared handles the marketing and is a liaison with the soldiers, and I handle the other customers and the dogs. He’s much better at math than I am, so he also does light bookkeeping.” “He gets around pretty good.” “It’s been a little over a year. He got fitted for his artificial legs right after the injury, but it’s taken him a while to accept them. Still goes to therapy once a week and to local veterans’ groups several times a month.” “It’s a tough war. I’ll bet you’re glad he’s home.” “I am.” She added sweetener to her tea and took a drink. Over the rim of her glass, she studied him. After putting her glass back down, she asked, “Did you think he was my boyfriend or something?” Busted. Nick busied himself by dumping several packets of raw sugar into his tea to buy a little time. “Actually, yeah.” “Here you go, guys.” Casey set down Jamie’s plate, then Nick’s, along with a small empty plate. “Everything else okay for now?” Nick nodded and Jamie confirmed. “We’re good.” Nick cut off a piece of roast beef, put it on Harley’s plate, and set it on the floor before he charged into his sandwich, partially appetite driven but mostly to stall the progress of their conversation. The tactic worked, as Jamie also focused on her food. When their plates were empty, Casey magically appeared. “Y’all are going to want a piece of our famous sorghum cake, aren’t you?” “Never heard of it,” Nick told her. “I’m not much of a dessert guy.” Casey brushed off his objection. “Everybody likes our sorghum cake. Cowboys used to come here first thing after a long cattle drive. After going without fresh butter and eggs for months, our cake was a welcome reward.” “I’d have gone for a shower and a bottle of whiskey,” Nick commented.

Casey turned to Jamie. “Where’d you find this guy?” Jamie chuckled. “The dogs dragged him in.” “Okay, I give up.” Nick leaned back in his chair in defeat. “Bring me a piece of sorghum cake.” “I’ll take one too,” Jamie said. Casey smiled. “Good. I knew you would.” After she left, Nick leaned toward Jamie. “That was kind of a hard sell. I think I’ll hire her to negotiate my next raise.” “That’s just Casey. She’s worked here forever.” “What exactly did I just order?” “It’s kind of like a spice cake with lots of butter and sugar. Sorghum molasses has a thinner consistency and a slightly more sour taste than molasses. It’s used more for cooking than sweetening.” “You do a lot of gourmet cooking out on the farm?” Jamie wiped her mouth and set the napkin down. “I used to, but not so much anymore. There’s just Jared and me, and he’s out with his buddies several nights a week.” “Ever get to Austin?” he asked. “You know their motto…Keep Austin weird. I’m not much for bars and the crowds on Sixth Street.” “It’s getting worse all the time,” Nick admitted. “I’d rather hang out closer to home. The farm keeps me busy. I don’t have a contract, but I’m on the bidder list for the federal government and for Texas, so I have steady income. And lately more private citizens are buying service dogs, but I’m leery of selling to people I don’t know.” Nick could understand her concern. These were highly trained, serious-minded dogs. Sure, they would fit in with a family, but, as Jamie had hammered into him already, they weren’t casual pets. “That’s why I’m such a hard-ass, you know,” she added. “It’s one of your most endearing features.” Nick leaned over and stared pointedly at her ass. She flushed and her long, thick, dark lashes swept down in an unusual show of shyness. She clearly didn’t hear compliments very often…even clumsy ones like his. Nick felt an odd twist in his heart. This woman was beautiful, intelligent, and competent. She deserved to have more people point that out. Nick felt bad that his comment had been about her ass when there were so many other excellent qualities he could have complimented. But then, her ass was an impressive asset. Casey carried two pieces of cake and placed them, with great flourish, in front of Jamie and Nick. “Enjoy!” Reluctantly Nick picked up his fork and took a taste. Then another, bigger bite…and another, until the entire portion disappeared. Jamie kept up with him, finally putting her fork on her empty plate. “You didn’t like it, huh?”

Nick grinned. “Okay, I admit it was pretty good.” Casey returned with their check. She noticed Nick’s empty plate and gave him a knowing smile, but didn’t rub it in. “Anything else?” “Maybe a dog bone?” Nick said. Casey reached into her apron pocket, pulled out a medium-size dog bone for Harley, and set it on the table on top of their check. Nick grabbed the check before Jamie could take it and passed the bone down to Harley. He had also sneaked pieces of roast beef down to the dog, who had accepted them eagerly. Jamie had mentioned that she didn’t feed her dogs table scraps, but Nick thought it was a quick way to the dog’s heart and knew it was a rule that would get broken often. But it wasn’t the hill he wanted to die on with Jamie, so he’d done it secretly. They walked out to Nick’s truck, full and content. It was almost two o’clock, and as much as he hated it, he knew today’s lesson was about to be cut short. Nick pulled into the end parking place in front of Jamie’s house and turned the motor off. “Are you staying…for the afternoon, I mean?” Jamie asked. The fact that she hadn’t bolted from the truck, and the tone of her voice, told him more than her words. And fuck…he really wanted to stay, but… “I’ve got a three o’clock meeting with the DA that I can’t miss. Same time tomorrow?” She turned away, but he caught a hint of disappointment. “I have a training session every Saturday morning. Can you make it around two?” “Sure, no problem.” Jamie got out and opened the back door. “Harley, sit. Good boy. Harley, down.” The dog hopped down and followed Jamie around the front of the vehicle. She paused at the gate. “Thanks for lunch.” “Thank Bobbi.” He knew he should go, but his fingers didn’t move to turn the key. Instead he soaked in the dazzling sight of her hair glowing reddish gold in the sunshine, the breeze lifting the straight strands to swirl around her face. He realized, for the first time, that she had dressed up for the day, with a soft cotton red peasant blouse showing off her toned shoulders and white shorts that made her tanned legs look a mile long. He tore his gaze away just enough to see the time was 2:20. If he left now, he’d have to drive like a maniac to get downtown on time. Shit, shit, shit…He could blow Bobbi off, but the DA wouldn’t be amused. And since Nick already had a strike…or two…against him, he really had no choice. He turned the key and the engine roared to life. He headed down the gravel drive without looking in the rearview mirror. Hell, he was only human. — Jeez! What was it about Nick that made her feel like she was in junior high school with her first crush? His devil-may-care attitude and wry humor kept her amused even though she tried not to show it. She didn’t want him to get the wrong impression. But then, exactly what was the right impression? She was so confused. Nick was the most inappropriate man she had ever met. But when she saw him with Harley, there was a

tenderness that he didn’t show to people. When he talked to the dog, his face got softer and relaxed as he smiled. What had happened to him to make him feel like he needed that steel wall around him? He’d mentioned his wife had cheated on him, which had to affect his attitude toward women and marriage. And she knew from Bobbi that he had been a decorated Marine Raider before becoming a DEA undercover agent. That had to do some major damage emotionally. Outwardly he was the most independent man she’d ever met, but as she spent more time with him, she was starting to see a wounded hero buried deep under that rugged exterior. She didn’t want to care about him. Life was so much simpler when she only had to worry about her dogs and her brother. But she couldn’t help but like Nick. He was an accomplished flirt, and it felt damn good to have someone act like she was pretty and interesting again. She wasn’t sure of his sincerity, and yet he didn’t strike her as a man who lied or played games when he wasn’t on a job. Unfortunately, Jamie didn’t have time to take in another stray and try to fix him. But just because she didn’t want to keep him didn’t mean she didn’t want to see if he was as hot as he looked. She couldn’t ignore the little twitter her heart made every time she saw him or the swirl of excitement that felt like her vagina was melting whenever he gave her that sexy crooked grin or called her darlin’. Sure, he probably called every woman darlin’, but damn, it sounded good to her starving ears. He seemed to be attracted to her, at least physically, and she was definitely turned on by him. But after he picked up Harley tomorrow, she would probably never see him again. So what did she have to lose by suggesting the friends-with-benefits plan? He could say no and be on his way. Or he could say yes and scratch the itch that was building inside her. No dates. No flowers. No promises. No expectations. Just good old-fashioned sex. Probably once would do it for another three years. Or maybe twice, but then she could forget him, and he could go on risking his life alone. It was a crazy idea. But she shivered with excitement at the thought that he might actually take her up on it. If he laughed at her, she would be humiliated, but that would show her he was not the man she wanted to sleep with, which would serve the purpose of getting him out of her mind. Either way, tomorrow night she was going to get screwed.

Chapter 5 The meeting had gone as well as could be expected. The DA chewed Nick’s ass while Bobbi sat back and let him. Sure, Nick deserved it, but it was hard to take, especially when his mind was about twenty-five miles away. Nick licked his wounds on his favorite barstool at the Jackalope. It was Friday night, and the bar was busy, but mostly with tourists and families. A few students filtered in and out, although certainly not in the volume of the fall session. Nick kept a wary eye out, but families, for the most part, were noisy and boring. The worst crime he witnessed was a husband making a bold grab at Gina’s ass when his wife was looking in the opposite direction. “Want me to shoot him?” Nick asked Gina when she returned behind the bar. “Wait till I see what kind of tip he leaves. If it’s less than twenty percent, I’ll let you know.” She put a fresh beer in front of him and took his empty mug away. “Hey, I’ve been meaning to ask you…what’s the house’s policy on dogs?” he asked. “We don’t discriminate. We serve everyone.” As usual, she never stopped moving as they talked. She put the glasses and mugs in the glass washer, wiped the counter, and made four drinks while Nick watched. “No, I mean a real four-legged dog.” “We’re fine with them as long as you clean up after them.” Gina shrugged. “Dogs make less mess than drunks. I can’t tell you how much puke and piss I’ve cleaned up.” “They don’t pay you enough.” “Damn straight, they don’t. But you’re giving me a great tip tonight.” He leaned across the bar. “Here’s a great tip: find a better job.” “And leave all this?” she snorted with a laugh. Gina hurried off to take care of another customer. Nick finished his beer and pushed away from the bar. It had been a crazy, busy week, and the lack of sleep was catching up with him. Besides, all he could think about was how many hours it was until he could go back to Woof Gang and see Jamie…and, of course, Harley. — After a leisurely breakfast, Nick made a much-needed but always-dreaded grocery run. He cleared a corner in the small living area of his townhouse and placed Harley’s bed in the space. There was a plastic container for the food in the kitchen and a basket next to the dog’s bed for Harley’s toys. Nick tidied the house and did his laundry, making sure his shoes were all shut inside his closet in case Harley felt a craving for leather. Finally Nick looked around and felt satisfied that even Jamie’s very critical eye wouldn’t find fault. He took a quick shower, shaved, and dressed in clean jeans and a dark blue button-

down, collared, short-sleeve shirt. He coaxed his dark hair into submission and headed out the door. He realized he was whistling as he drove west on Highway 290. The trip was slower because he hit the Saturday-afternoon traffic. Locals were out enjoying their weekend shopping, and tourists were flocking to the Hill Country. After spending some time in Denver, which stood in the shadow of the majestic Rocky Mountains, Nick had to admit that the Hill Country was pretty anticlimactic. But unlike Denver, this area of Texas was lush and green, with fields of colorful wildflowers and grazing longhorns. The parking area in front of Jamie’s house was full. About a dozen men and women sat on folding chairs that were arranged in a circle on the front lawn. Almost all of them had dogs sitting by their sides. Jamie and Jared were part of the group, apparently leading a discussion. Nick knew he was a little early, so he rolled the windows down on his truck and waited. He glanced at the cars and trucks around him and noted bumper stickers representing all four branches of the military, which meant that everyone was probably a veteran. A closer look revealed that many of the vets had artificial limbs. He’d spent several tours in the sandbox himself, but luckily he’d come home with all his body parts. He couldn’t imagine what these brave warriors were going through, trying to adapt to a new normal. As he watched, the men and women stood, some struggling on their new legs, and yelled, “Semper Fi!” There was an exchange of hugs, backslaps, fist bumps, and handshakes. Gradually everyone made their way to their vehicles. “We’re heading to the VFW Hall for some beer and barbecue,” one of the vets called out. “Come with us.” “I’ve got to take care of the dogs.” Jamie nudged Jared. “You should go. I can handle this.” “Are you sure?” he asked. “Yeah, go. Have fun,” she encouraged. He hobbled after the group, his three-legged dog hopping along behind. It took several minutes for everyone to get their dogs loaded and get inside their vehicles, but eventually they were lost in a cloud of dust on the gravel driveway. Jamie stood at the gate. “Are you going to sit in your truck all day?” Nick unfolded his long legs out of the cab and walked toward her. “Looks like a nice group.” “You should have joined us.” “I’m not much of a joiner.” “I’ve heard that a lot from vets. But the best thing is for them to get out of their houses and mix it up with some guys and gals who understand what they’re going through.” Nick reached the gate and swung it open for her. “Sounds like you could take a dose of your own medicine. How often have you gotten out there and mixed it up since your husband died?” “This is not about me.” She spun around and headed toward the kennels, leaving Nick with no option except to follow. Harley was not a demonstrative dog, as a rule. He tried to be cool, but his wagging tail revealed his pleasure at seeing Nick.

Nick squatted down and gave the dog a vigorous head rub, which Harley adored. There was a bounce to his step as he followed his new person to the arena. “I’ve been working with him on his drug scents, and he’s got a great nose,” Jamie assured Nick. “Have you ever worked with a drug dog before?” “No, but I’ve seen them work. Several agents in my department have them.” “Good, then this won’t all be new for you. You probably already know this, but for the dogs it’s not about the drugs, it’s about getting to play and being rewarded.” She took a white towel out of her pocket and handed it to Nick. “I’ve hidden several different drug-scented items around this kennel and outside. You’re going to give him the scent, and when he finds it, you’re going to give him the white towel and let him play with it. Got it?” Nick would never have admitted it, but this was pretty cool. “Sure. Let’s do it.” He tucked the white towel in his back pocket. Jamie pulled a small pouch made of cloth out of a plastic bag and handed it to Nick. “Let him get a good scent, then tell him, ‘Harley, seek.’ He’s going to take off, so be prepared, and hang on to the leash.” Nick nodded and leaned down so he could hold the pouch where Harley could check it out. The dog’s ears were so perked that their tips almost touched. His tail swung back and forth and his shiny black nose twitched as he sucked in the scent. When he lifted his head and started sniffing the air, Nick knew the dog was ready to go. “Harley, seek,” Nick commanded in a firm tone. The dog went from zero to twenty miles per hour in two seconds. The leash jerked tight and Nick had to scramble not to be pulled off his feet. Harley pulled him down the hallway and outside. He didn’t slow down until he reached the big old oak tree in the front yard. Without hesitation, he stood on his hind legs while clawing at the bark on the tree and staring at a low branch with fierce intensity. Nick looked back at Jamie, who had just caught up with them. “Is he right?” She pulled a chair over, stood on it, and pulled out another small pouch that had not been visible. “He got it. Now reward him.” Harley’s tongue hung outside his mouth, and his eyes sparkled as he looked from Jamie to Nick expectantly. Nick removed the towel and held it out. Harley grabbed it and shook his head violently as if he were trying to kill it. When he was sure it was dead, he pushed it against Nick’s hand in an invitation to play tug-of-war. Nick obliged, and even though he outweighed the dog by at least eighty pounds, Harley was able to drag Nick forward. “Good boy, Harley.” “That was an aggressive alert. You’ll also see him do a passive alert, where he simply sits and stares at an object. Either alert is a really good sign that something questionable is there, and you should always check it out. He expects you to follow through on what he found and praise him.” Jamie tucked the pouch in the plastic bag with the other similar one. “Ready for the next one?” They continued the game for three more scents, including one of the loosies Nick had brought to her. Harley performed like a champ, but after four he was clearly getting tired. “That was pushing it,” Jamie said. “He won’t usually have that many different scents in a day, but I wanted to test him…and you.” She flashed Nick a pleased smile. “And you both

passed with flying colors.” “Does that mean we’re graduating?” While he was excited at the prospect of working with Harley on the streets, no more lessons meant no more time with Jamie. Jamie nodded. “Congratulations. You can arrange to take the official field test whenever you have time.” But there was less enthusiasm in her voice than he would have expected. Maybe she always felt sadness when one of her dogs left. But he hoped it was that she, like him, didn’t want these sessions to end. He was about to suggest they go out and get dinner when Jamie spoke up. “I have some lasagna in the freezer and a loaf of Italian bread. Jared’s going to be out late, so I’d just be eating alone….” She looked down at the ground and shuffled her cowboy boots in the dust. “It’s Saturday….Of course, you probably have plans….” Nick stepped closer and hooked his finger under her chin, lifting it until she was forced to look into his eyes. “I was hoping you’d ask. I love lasagna.” Nervously the tip of her tongue moistened her top lip, completely unaware of the reaction the act had on Nick. Hell with the lasagna. He wanted to taste Jamie, to kiss those lips and strip her clothes off piece by piece, savoring every revelation of bare flesh. He must have telegraphed his feelings to her because her attitude changed. She studied him with a curious expression that he couldn’t identify. “Let’s go inside. I’m starving.” Jamie unclipped Harley’s leash. “Harley, go pee.” The dog trotted around the yard, his nose to the ground as he searched for the perfect spot. When he found it, he squatted and did his business. Nick was horrified. “What the fuck? He pees like a girl.” “That’s because he’s been trained not to lift his leg. Service dogs can’t go around tinkling on posts and furniture.” “Are you kidding?” “No, it’s to help make them more socially acceptable in public situations.” As Nick considered her answer, he could see the logic in it. But it was emasculating, and he felt sorry that Harley couldn’t just be a dog. However, that would mean he couldn’t be Nick’s partner. They were both making compromises for their jobs. Nick followed Jamie into the house. “Is it okay if Harley comes in?” “Are you kidding?” Jamie snorted. “Look around. Dogs have the run of this place. Just not on the furniture.” Harley was standing on the porch, waiting for an invitation. As soon as Nick opened the screen door, the dog trotted in as if he belonged there. He stretched out on the cool tile floor in the kitchen and snoozed while Jamie and Nick worked together to prepare the meal. Jamie handed Nick a bottle of wine to open. “Is this the feed-store wine?” he asked as he twisted the corkscrew in. “No, this is the good stuff. I got it the last time I was in Austin.” Nick’s dark eyebrows lifted. “Wow…what’s the occasion?” “Your graduation.” She watched as he poured the red wine into the jelly jars she had put

out for him. “And I have a proposal I want to discuss with you.” “Shoot.” Jamie took a sip of wine and shook her head. “Not yet. After dinner.” Of course, that planted seeds that bugged him throughout the rest of the meal’s preparation and even when they were sitting at the table, enjoying the homemade lasagna. What could she possibly want from him? Maybe she just wanted him to give her a reference or a good review. Hundreds of possibilities tumbled through his mind, distracting him so much that he was barely able to carry on a conversation. But he was able to eat, and when his plate was cleaned for the second time, he leaned back in his chair and groaned. “Is there anything you’re not good at?” he asked. “Oh, lots of things,” she answered with a laugh. “You just haven’t been around me long enough to find out.” She stood and started gathering up the dirty dishes. Even though dishes weren’t really his favorite chore, he jumped up to help her. “I can get these,” she protested. But he didn’t take no for an answer and insisted on helping her load the dishwasher. She rinsed the dishes and handed them to him, and he placed them in the racks. As they stood side by side in front of the sink, Nick was very aware of her every movement. Their arms brushed against each other, and every time she passed him a dish, his hand lingered longer on hers. He wished they had had more courses, but all too quickly the dishes were loaded and the table, sink, and countertop wiped off. Jamie looked around, checking to make sure everything was put away. She saw that there was a dirty spoon on the stove and reached for it just as Nick turned for the wine bottle on the counter. They collided and Nick grabbed her around the waist to steady them both. It was completely unplanned, but with their bodies pressed together, Nick couldn’t resist. As she looked up at him, he lowered his head until their lips touched, gently at first. But when they moved over each other, he became more greedy and his hand cupped her face, pulling her even closer. To his surprise, she didn’t pull away. Instead her arms twined around his neck, and she rose on her tiptoes, encouraging him to deepen the kiss. His mouth opened, and her tongue thrust inside, teasing him with sensuous strokes across the roof of his mouth before jousting with his tongue in a heated battle that left his knees weak. His eager cock was pushing against her stomach, aching to be let out of the restraint of his jeans. “Oh God, Jamie,” he moaned without lifting his lips from hers. Jamie’s fingers dropped to the strip of buttons on his shirt, and she freed them one by one, then pulled his shirt open to reveal his broad, bare chest. He took that as a positive sign. Desperate to feel her flesh, he broke away long enough to grab the hem of her blouse and pull it over her head. No sooner had it cleared her arms than her fingers focused on the buttons of his jeans. She had to struggle a little with those because of the pressure pushing against them, but as soon as his fly was open, her hand slid inside and cupped the bulge of his erection. He unclasped the back of her bra, and it fell to the floor, releasing her full breasts for his viewing. His hands spanned her waist, and he lifted her to the counter, which put her nipples at the perfect level for his hungry eyes to devour. Pert and dark pink, they grew even more

swollen under his gaze. He took a breast in each hand, marveling at how perfectly round and firm they were. Unable to resist any longer, he held her left breast up while he leaned forward. His tongue circled and flicked before he sucked the hardened bud completely into his mouth. Jamie’s head lolled back against the cabinet door and her fingers curled around the edge of the counter as he lapped and pulled on one nipple, then the other, until she could stand it no longer. Frantically she fumbled with the fastener on her shorts. Nick stopped long enough to kick off his tennis shoes, pull his gun out of the back of his belt and place it on top of the refrigerator, then push his jeans and shorts down and kick them out of the way. He shrugged out of his shirt, then helped Jamie wiggle out of her shorts and panties. They got twisted around her boots, and he had to spend valuable seconds pulling them off, boots and clothes all tangled together. They dropped to the floor with a clunk. His lips returned to hers while his fingers stroked up her thigh until they encountered the moist, heated center of her womanhood. He rubbed her gently, then let one finger slip inside. She was wet and ready for him, which excited him even more. For a moment he hesitated, feeling the briefest twinge in his conscience about her vulnerability. But when her fingers wrapped around his penis, squeezing and pulling it toward her, he gave up all thoughts of honor and chivalry. In fact, at that point there was nothing on his mind but burying himself inside her. He pulled her closer to the edge of the counter, and she obliged by wrapping her legs around his waist, leaving herself wide open for his possession. His penis touched her, then pushed in a little at a time. He was fully enlarged, and she was surprisingly tight. She helped him by scooting closer until she was almost completely off the counter. The extra momentum thrust him completely in, and he paused, savoring the velvety softness that enveloped him. That calm lasted only a few seconds, then he pulled out and slid in again, slowly increasing the pace. Jamie moaned, then wrapped her arms around his neck and tightened her legs until he was completely supporting her weight. The shift buried him even more deeply in her, and he carried her across the kitchen and into the living room. He practically pushed her onto the couch and followed her down, his dick still deep inside her. He kissed her lips, her neck, and her breasts with every movement until the rhythm became so fast and frantic that all he could do was gasp for breath. He knew he was close, too close. But it was important that Jamie have her pleasure too, so he held back. As her passion built, he could feel her getting wetter. Her hips rose and her short nails dug into his back. Finally she soared over the top, crying out and tightening her muscles around him, stroking and milking him until he lost all conscious thought, his brain locked in the intensity of a fantastic orgasm. Slowly reality oozed back into his mind, and he realized he was lying heavily on top of her. He shifted his weight, but the space on the couch was so tight that he rolled off onto the floor. Automatically he reached out, trying to grab on to something…anything, and that happened to be Jamie. She tumbled down with him, landing on top with a thud. Whatever cool factor he’d had up to that point was completely lost in the awkward dismount. What an ignoble ending to one of

the most exciting sexual encounters he’d ever had. Then Jamie giggled. Well, that only made it worse. She sat up, her legs straddling his body. “Wow, you really know how to finish with a bang.” He looked up at her twinkling eyes, now more blue than green. It was quite a struggle to keep his gaze from clinging to the beauty of her bouncing breasts and the postcoital glow of her skin. Just a quick glimpse had caused his exhausted penis to spring back to life. She looked down at his renewed erection with appreciation. “Impressive.” “You do have a powerful effect on me.” He grabbed her hips and lifted her, then slowly lowered her onto his shaft. Jamie’s eyes widened in surprise, then her eyelids fluttered halfway closed as she savored the sensations he was arousing. He lifted her again, then she took over, rising and lowering with sensual motions as if she were riding a mechanical bull. Nick watched her, enthralled by the suppleness of her body. Even though she had full breasts and a round, firm ass, there wasn’t any extra weight on her anywhere. She earned her muscles through hard work rather than hours in the gym, and somehow that made her more attractive to him. He reached up and cupped both breasts, lightly teasing and pinching her nipples as they grew firm under his touch. It was a body he would never grow tired of looking at and playing with. Caught up in the pure pleasure of her movements, she threw her head back. Her chestnutcolored hair flowed down her back and over her shoulders like liquid copper, shimmering with every motion. Nick gave over control to her, letting her regulate the speed and range of motion, and he lay there enjoying the heat and snugness inside her most intimate core. When she reached back and cradled his testicles, electricity shot through him. Suddenly the heat turned from tepid to flaming hot. He flipped her over, carefully cradling her head before moving his hands so they were flat on the floor on each side of her. He plunged into her, and she rose to meet him. It didn’t take but a few more thrusts before she was screaming his name. His own release followed, but this time he was careful not to put his full weight on her as he floated back to earth. They lay there, their limbs entangled, their skin slick with sweat. “I made a chocolate cake for dessert,” she said, her voice muffled against his neck. “I thought this was dessert.” He nuzzled his face into her hair. “It was delicious.” “Hmm…I’m glad you liked it.” She stirred, pulling away from him. She took the red, white, and blue crocheted throw off the back of the couch and wrapped it around herself. Nick took that as a sign that it was time for a break. He got up, wincing as he levered himself up from the hard floor. “I’m getting too old for this.” “Next time we’ll go to my room.” She said it so casually, he almost missed it. But his heart quickened at the promise there would be a next time. He’d been afraid this would be a one-time shot. But he wasn’t sure he was up for another round so soon. “Right now?” “No, not now. Maybe Harley will need a refresher course sometime soon.”

Nick felt uncomfortable standing naked in front of her while having what appeared to be a serious conversation. “Hold that thought.” He returned to the kitchen, stepping over Harley, who had moved into the living room to be closer to them. Nick pulled on his jeans and stuck his underwear in his pocket. He put on his shirt but didn’t bother buttoning it. He was about to go back into the living room when Jamie walked in. She had wrapped the throw around her, under her armpits and tucked in between her breasts. The open weave of the crochet allowed tantalizing peeks at the bare skin underneath. She filled their glasses with the rest of the wine, handed him one, and sat at the table. Nick remained standing, but he leaned forward on the back of the chair he’d sat in earlier. “Now, about that refresher course.” “That’s what I was talking about earlier,” she said. “Your proposition?” “That makes it sound sleazy. What I have in mind would be mutually satisfactory for both of us.” She hesitated. He waited. “I’m not looking for a relationship,” she finally continued. “I’ve been in love, and it was wonderful. It’s the after-love part that brings pain. I worried every time Mike left the house. And when my worst nightmare happened, it was suddenly all over…the love…the laughter… someone to cuddle with at night and to celebrate the holidays with…and the sex.” She wiped away a tear that had trickled down her cheek. “I’ve had a great love. I don’t need another. I have the farm, the dogs, my brother, and a busy life.” There was another pause. Nick waited patiently, still with no clue where the conversation was going. Jamie met his gaze steadily. “I have to be honest with you. I don’t need love anymore. But I miss the sex. You and I get along okay. I just thought…” Nick cocked his head as if he hadn’t heard her correctly. “So, I’m your booty call?” She shrugged. “You don’t have a girlfriend, do you? Who would we be hurting? Just some hot sex…and no strings. And it’s all temporary. I can end it whenever and you can do the same. Isn’t that every man’s dream?” “Well, yes,” he answered reluctantly. “But…” “And tonight was good, wasn’t it?” “Yes, but…” “Then why not?” Nick’s first thought was that this was the craziest idea he’d ever heard…from a woman. It sounded like something he would suggest. His own experience with love had ended badly too. He understood Jamie’s concern that there was nothing but pain after love. He definitely had no plans for any type of permanent relationship either. It was just a little unnerving to think about it in such clinical terms. But then, she was right. Sex without responsibility was a perfect world…especially if it was with Jamie. Why was he hesitating? He was being offered an endless dessert tray…without calories. “Are you serious?” he asked, still concerned that this was some sort of test, or a game

whose rules he didn’t know. “Absolutely. Of course, I would expect your discretion. I work with a lot of law enforcement agencies, and I need to protect my credibility. And then there’s my brother….” She shook her head. “He would never understand.” “Probably not,” Nick agreed. He still wasn’t sure he did. But hey, who was he to turn down a beautiful woman who needed sex? If she wanted a businesslike arrangement, he was up for it. Nick held out his hand. Jamie smiled and heaved a relieved sigh. She took his hand and shook it. “Then we have a deal.” “I guess we do.” She stood and gathered her clothes. “I’m taking Harley to Grammy’s to meet the family tomorrow. I’ve got the boys, and my brothers should be there too.” Jamie clipped the leash on Harley and handed it to Nick. “Let me know how Harley does.” “Uh…I will.” He retrieved his gun off the refrigerator, slipped his feet in his tennis shoes, and squatted down to tie them. When he stood back up, Jamie handed him his socks and practically pushed him toward the front door. “Why don’t you come with us? I’m not sure how he’ll act around kids, and it would be good to have you along to keep an eye on him. I can’t vouch for the company, but I guarantee the food will be great.” “I don’t know. What would your grandmother think?” “That I just got a new K9 partner, and this is part of his training.” She considered it for a moment. “I suppose I could go. Sundays are always slow. But just to make sure Harley behaves well with the kids and step in if I need to.” “Great. I’ll pick you up around eleven.” “I’ll be ready.” They paused in the doorway. How exactly did one say goodbye to someone he had just fucked but who had now become a secret partner…of sorts? A handshake? A kiss? He bent down to kiss her, and she turned her face so it landed on her cheek. Jamie squatted and gave Harley a hug and a goodbye scratch on the ears. “You take care of your man,” she told the dog. “Keep him safe and make me proud of you.” Harley wagged his tail and nudged her with his nose. She stood and tightened the throw around her. “Good night, Nick. Drive carefully.” She started closing the door. Nick nodded and was left no choice but to cross the porch and head toward his truck. With his underwear in one pocket, his socks in the other, and his unbuttoned shirttails flapping in the wind, he had a sudden flash of empathy for all the women he had sent away after a casual fuck. And he didn’t like it. — Well, that hadn’t exactly gone as she’d planned. Jamie leaned her back against the door,

barely resisting the urge to peek out the window and watch Nick swagger out to his truck. God, his body was even better than she had imagined, and that bulge in his jeans had turned out to be the real deal. She felt her cheeks burn hotly at the memory of everything they had done tonight. It was the most wanton, sizzling sex she had ever had. No disrespect to Mike, who had been a considerate lover, but they had never made love in the kitchen on the counter or on the living room floor. A couple times on the couch, but it hadn’t been as wild as with Nick. But then, this thing with Nick was a whole different animal. He was like a shiny new toy on Christmas Day. It wouldn’t take long before she lost interest and tossed him aside. Which brought her to another change of plans. What she had decided would be a one-anddone kind of deal was now open-ended. No one had been more surprised than she when she’d heard herself voicing the proposal for an ongoing arrangement. She tried to excuse it as overloaded hormones. But the sex had been so good that once—or twice—wasn’t enough. A couple more times wouldn’t hurt…or five or six. If they were all as good as tonight, maybe seven or eight. But that would be it. It would be over. She was having second thoughts about going to his grandmother’s place. But since she lived so close, it would be a neighborly visit as much as for Harley’s benefit. Jamie was concerned about how Harley would respond to the kids. She had never taken him around any children, so she had no idea how he’d act. Some dogs had no tolerance for the noise and hyperactivity, and she didn’t want Harley to be put into a situation he couldn’t handle. The last thing she wanted was for a child to get hurt by one of her animals. It was part of her job to make sure the placement fit, so this was a business call…nothing more. But as she got ready for bed in her kennel bedroom, she had a smile on her face. It would be fun to spend the day away from Woof Gang. And damn it, she deserved to have a little fun. The fact that Nick would be there too had absolutely no bearing on her decision. He was just a friend…with great benefits.

Chapter 6 Grammy’s house sat squarely on top of a hill southwest of Austin at the edge of the wine country. The once-ornate iron gates were hanging by rust-encrusted hinges and were held open by a pile of limestone rocks. The memories of countless Sundays rattled in Nick’s mind as the white gravel from the long drive ricocheted off his truck’s undercarriage. Nick’s grandmother, like a Japanese soldier on a deserted island who had never heard the war was over, was a 1960s surfer chick–turned–hippie who still thought the sixties were alive and well. Pot smoking, incense burning, and opposed to any music from after 1980, she had been the cover model for the front of a record album in 1964. Having a baby when she was only eighteen hadn’t slowed her down a bit. Nick had heard the stories from his dad, who had grown up on communes and in an old VW bus, following bands on the road, but Nick simply could not visualize his grandmother as a hot, young groupie. Not that he’d want to… Jamie rolled the window up to keep out the dust after they turned off the main highway. Harley sat alertly watchful in the backseat between two six-year-old boys, Brad and Brent, both of whom were focused on their handheld video games. “Amazing piece of property,” Jamie said. “I always wished my place was on a hill with a view.” “Lots of good memories here. Grammy was our family after Mom and Dad died.” Jamie pointed at Grammy’s VW bus, now permanently parked in the middle of tall grass, mesquite, and prickly pear cactus. “That’s a classic.” “Grammy took us everywhere in that bus. When the engine burned up for the third time just two years ago, she had it towed back to this field, then held a wake for it. Hundreds of people came out. It was the event of the year.” Nick shook his head and smiled as the memory of that crazy party flashed through his mind. “She has lots of friends?” “Everyone from the sixties who was involved in music—that is, anyone still alive—showed up. It was…colorful.” Nick glanced over at Jamie. “I have to warn you…Grammy is not a typical grandmother.” “Knowing you, I would have guessed that,” Jamie responded with a smile. The two-story house was about the same era as Jamie’s, but larger. A wide porch wrapped around three sides, held up by carved posts. The wood siding was white, but it was badly in need of a fresh coat of paint. The shutters and the front door were painted a vivid shade of violet, and all the trim, including the porch rails, was a cornflower blue. They parked in front of the old farmhouse between a white Ford Explorer vintage and a canary yellow Mustang convertible. “Nice pony.” Jamie looked at it longingly. “Grammy’s new wheels…actually, old wheels. It’s a 1965, but she just got it….A gift from an

old friend.” Nick shook his head and frowned. “I never ask too many questions because there are things grandkids don’t need to know about their grandparents. The Explorer is Justin’s Ranger-mobile. Looks like Luke didn’t make it, which isn’t unusual. He works for Homeland Security and spends a lot of time in DC.” The kids tumbled out of the truck, but Harley waited impatiently to follow them. He had never been around children before and was clearly fascinated by these little people who had hugged him and fawned over him when they’d met earlier today. Nick and Jamie got out and told Harley to jump down, which he eagerly did. The air was filled with smells, some he recognized and others that were new and intriguing. There were cows and horses in the pasture, a couple goats and some alpacas in a large pen, and a small yard full of chickens. Harley lifted his black muzzle and captured all the aromas that floated on the breeze, saving them for future reference. His brain had a section that was devoted exclusively to analyzing scents, which made his sense of smell forty times greater than his people’s. Suddenly he leaped forward, pulling the leash out of Nick’s hand. Harley charged up the steps, straight to the tall, thin woman standing at the top. He sat next to her, his eyes staring at the pocket of her skirt. The boys had reached her first, their arms wrapped around her waist in a big hug, which she happily returned. “Can we go see the animals?” they asked in their high-pitched voices. “Can we? Please?” “Sure, just remember not to walk behind the horses, and don’t let the goats eat your shirts like they did last time,” Grammy told them. “Your mother wasn’t too pleased about that.” “We won’t,” they promised simultaneously, and jostled with each other as they ran down the steps and toward the big red barn. “They look just like you,” Jamie said. “Considering that their mother slept around, that’s a miracle,” Nick retorted, still bitter after all those years. In spite of his feelings about his ex-wife, he watched the boys with paternal pride as they scrambled over the fence and into a small pasture that held two black and white paint Welsh ponies. Nick and his brothers had all learned to ride on the parents of those ponies, and the tradition continued with the new generation. “Glad you could make it,” Grammy proclaimed. “And this must be Harley.” She looked down at the dog, who was sitting at attention next to her, his gaze focused on her with burning intensity. She wore a long prairie skirt and tie-dyed T-shirt, with her long, curly, steel gray hair pulled back into a ponytail. “Grammy, you’re killing me,” Nick said. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” “You’ve got a joint in your pocket, don’t you?” Nick asked. “I might,” she admitted with an unapologetic grin. “I’m a DEA agent, and Harley’s a drug dog. What are we supposed to do with you?” “Arrest me,” Grammy challenged nonchalantly. She leaned over and petted Harley, whose concentration didn’t waver. “I should. Maybe a night in jail would be good for you,” Nick retorted.

“Ha! Like I haven’t been to jail before.” She chuckled. “The first time was back in ’67…or was it ’68? Anyway, me and a bunch of other women burned our bras in the street outside the Playboy Club in San Francisco. I haven’t worn a bra since.” Nick covered his ears. “TMI, Grammy. I could have lived the rest of my life without knowing that. Besides, there are kids here.” Grammy glanced over at the boys, who were feeding the goats handfuls of clover. “Your kids can’t hear me.” “I wasn’t talking about them,” Nick snorted. “I was talking about me and Jamie.” “Pot isn’t any worse than alcohol, and I know you’ve taken a drink or two in your life,” Grammy continued. Jamie laughed. “Come on, Nick…it’s medicinal, right?” Grammy chuckled. “Who’s the pretty gal? And smart too.” “This is Jamie. She trains service dogs.” Nick completed the introductions. “Jamie, this is my outlaw grandmother.” “Hello, Jamie…Welcome,” Grammy said, and beckoned her to come up on the porch. “Nice to meet you, Grammy.” Jamie smiled and walked up the steps. Nick joined her, grabbed Harley’s leash, and unclipped it from his collar. “Good boy, Harley. Why don’t you take the day off?” He pulled the white towel out of his pocket and allowed Harley to have a quick game of tug-of-war. Justin, looking like a younger version of Robert Redford, stepped out from the house. He and Nick were about the same height, but Justin was immaculately dressed in Dockers and a dress shirt with the long sleeves rolled up to just below his elbows. His golden blond hair was neatly trimmed and his face clean shaven, unlike Nick who, no matter how often he shaved, always seemed to have a five o’clock shadow. “Hey bro.” Justin gave Nick a fist bump. “Justin, this is Jamie. She owns the company that matched me with Harley.” He smiled and reached out to shake Jamie’s hand. She returned his handshake while staring at him with open admiration. Holy hell, am I going to lose another girl to my brother? Nick groaned to himself. Justin leaned over and petted Harley before saying to Grammy, “I forgot to tell you, Nick has a funny story about caffeine to tell you.” He laughed and winked at Nick. “The Rangers know about that?” Nick asked in disbelief. “If there was video, it’d be viral by now.” Justin leaned against the rail, looking like the cover model of a romance novel. “Nothing bad ever happens to Justin,” Nick explained without jealousy. He had long ago accepted that his brother was superior in every way. But it had been a powerful motivator for the other two brothers to get out and make their own mark in the world. “We always called him Golden Boy because he was so perfect.” “It’s not his fault he’s attractive; it’s all in the DNA,” Jamie teased. “She’s right, Nick,” Grammy commented. “One of the guys I used to date was really gorgeous….I mean, all the women were hot for him, but I got him. Problem was, he wasn’t

the brightest bulb in the chandelier, if you know what I mean. Hmm…I can’t remember his name.” “Jeez, I wonder why not?” Nick muttered. “Back off, Nicky. You’re not on the clock today either.” Grammy looked at Justin. “You boys know the rules….Leave your badges and your egos at the gate. Let’s sit down and enjoy a beautiful June day in Texas.” There were a half dozen rocking chairs, and they sat in four that were on the west corner of the porch so they could keep an eye on the boys, who had moved on to the alpaca pen. The adults rocked peacefully for a few moments. Jamie spoke first. “This place is beautiful. How many acres?” She held her hand above her eyes to shield the sun so she could take it all in. “Right at forty,” Grammy answered. “You live in Austin, Jamie?” “Oh no, not me,” Jamie was quick to reply. “I have twenty acres just west of here, actually only about two miles from here, as the crow flies. My brother and I have some kennels, and we raise a few cattle and horses.” She glanced over at Nick and smiled. “What’s Luke up to these days?” Nick asked. “Some kind of emergency project,” Grammy answered. “Of course, he couldn’t say.” “We may never see him again,” Nick commented. “Our borders are like sieves with big holes, and drugs are just pouring through. If Luke would do his job, Justin and I would have a lot less work to do.” “Sounds like job security.” Grammy laughed. “You should thank him.” “Yeah, right…like that’s going to happen.” Nick scoffed. “What’s for lunch? I’m starved.” Justin clapped his hands in anticipation of the answer. “You boys go pick the corn,” Grammy said. “Jamie, have you ever cut okra?” “Yes, ma’am, I have,” Jamie said. Grammy gave her a fierce look. “I’m not ma’am. I’m Grammy. When the boys got old enough to call me something, I picked Grammy because my Grammy is one of my prized possessions.” “Wow, I’ve never met anyone who has a Grammy,” Jamie declared in awe. “I wrote a little song and sang backup for a great country singer named Roger Elliott, and it was a big crossover hit. Ever hear of Roger?” “I think my mother had a couple of his albums.” Jamie was leaning forward, completely fascinated by the conversation and this colorful woman. Grammy’s expression grew wistful. “He was a lovely man. We were on the road a lot, touring.” She blinked and looked away. “He died last year.” “I’m so sorry to hear that.” Jamie’s condolence was genuine. She reached out and patted Grammy’s hand as it rested on the curved arm of the rocking chair. “He was quite a bit younger than I was, but what a charmer.” “What about Papa?” Nick barely remembered his grandfather, who had died when Nick was very young. He had always known Papa wasn’t his real grandfather, but he was the only one Nick and Justin had ever known. Luke had missed out completely.

“Oh, Papa was a good man. He came along at a time when my career was stalled, and I was ready to put down roots.” Grammy tossed her head and straightened her shoulders. “Enough about old lovers…Back to dinner. My neighbor, Al, gave me a big ham. His kid got married last week and he couldn’t take his 4-H project with him to Dallas. I went to the wedding.” She rolled her eyes. “Frankly, he should have kept the pig.” She pushed herself out of the chair. “The potatoes are peeled and cut up. I just have to turn them on.” “Sounds wonderful. All fresh.” Jamie smiled. “Now scoot out and bring back the rest of the meal.” Grammy picked up a basket, which she handed to Nick, and a bucket with a small knife in it for Jamie. Justin led the way, with Nick, Jamie, and Harley tagging along behind. Grammy’s garden was about fifty feet behind the house and surrounded by a six-foot-tall deerproof fence to keep out the abundant wildlife in the area. There were ten rows of corn, taller than Jamie and heavy with plump ears ready to pick. Nick and Justin started to pick immediately while Jamie walked down the long row of okra, shopping the plants like the grocery store vegetable aisle, selecting only the perfect pods, ignoring four or five for each one she carefully cut and dropped into the bucket. Justin and Nick picked the eight ears required, and Justin took the corn into the house so Grammy could shuck it and start cooking. Nick wandered over to help Jamie. “Grammy’s a hoot,” she commented. “Because she breaks the law every day of her life, and her three grandsons are all law officers? Ironic, huh?” Nick plucked a large red tomato off a bush in the next row and took a juicy bite. He held it out to Jamie, who also took a big bite. “Maybe she really needs it,” Jamie commented. “That would mean that she’s been sick since she was fourteen.” Nick took another bite and wiped the juice off his chin. “I don’t know how all of us boys managed to not be druggies or dealers.” “She did something right, because you’re all honorable and successful.” “I suppose so.” “Justin’s nice.” Her comment was casual, but Nick gave her a curious look. “Nice? As in…‘I want to jump his bones’ nice?” Jamie’s hands stopped midpick. “He is very handsome. Is he married?” “No, not even close. Ever since he was a little kid, he wanted to be a Texas Ranger. He read every book the library had and even apprenticed as a Junior Ranger, or whatever they call them, when he was in high school. Every summer we’d go to Waco, and he’d insist we go through the Ranger museum. I guess he’s just focused on his career. Or maybe there are no hot female Rangers.” Jamie laughed, a light, bubbly sound that made Nick smile. He loved to hear her laugh, even more so if he was the cause. “Is he older or younger than you?” “Older by a year. I’m the middle kid, and Luke is the baby.” “So, how did you get interested in the DEA?” she asked.

“Justin had full-ride scholarship offers from several universities but chose Harvard. I didn’t have the grades or the desire, but I gave college a shot. Then I met Sandy and we eloped. I joined the Marines for the bennies and to see the world. Special Ops recruited me, and I instantly loved it. But the futility of fighting in the Middle East wore me down, so after four tours I left and got a job with the DEA, I guess because when I was a kid, I loved Miami Vice.” “It’s not all guns, cigarette boats, and hot girls,” she teased. “Don’t forget the white leisure suits. And no, it’s not glamorous at all. I knew it wouldn’t be cool and easy like they made it look, but I’ve seen the damage drugs do to people. I wanted to do my part to get the dealers off the streets.” He tossed the tomato stem over the fence. “How’d you get into the service-dog business?” “It’s not as exciting as your choices. My uncle was ex-military and a retired cop. He had worked with K9s in the service and started training them as a hobby while he was on the force. When he retired, he expanded the kennels and did it full time. I loved hanging out there and spent all my summers and holidays learning from him. I had just graduated from Texas A&M with a veterinary degree when my uncle got sick, so I moved in to help him. He lasted about a year, and he left me his farm and his business.” “Then you met your husband?” “I had known him in college, but we didn’t date then. One day he pulled me over….He said I was speeding, but I was only eight miles over the limit.” “Technically speeding,” Nick teased. She stuck her tongue out at him. “Anyway, he asked me out, and we were married two months later. When it’s right, you know it immediately. And what Mike and I had was perfect.” “Did he tear up the ticket?” She shook her head. “No, I had to pay it. He said I deserved it and needed to be more careful.” Her soft smile said she had forgiven him. “He was an honest and honorable man.” “Did he work the K9 division?” “He did, and we worked together to make his dog better. Because of his bragging, word spread and my business doubled. That helped me strengthen the reputation my uncle had already established.” Nick looked at the bucket of okra, which was filled to the top. “We’ll have to invite more people.” Jamie grinned. “My kids eat a ton, and their mom is a horrible cook, so we’re good.” They left the garden, and Nick was careful to fasten the gate behind them. “I forgot to shut the gate once, and a herd of deer ate the garden down to nubs before dawn. Grammy was not pleased.” “Daddy!” Twin voices shrieked across the uncut dry-grass yard as they ran toward Nick. “Can we ride the ponies?” They crashed into Nick and all three of them tumbled around the yard like six-year-olds. “Hey guys.” Nick fought his way to a kneeling position. “It’s almost time for dinner. But later I’ll saddle the ponies for you.” “Daddy, is Jamie your girlfriend?” Brad asked, looking bashfully at Jamie with his dark

blue eyes, so like Nick’s. Nick hesitated a moment. “Have you shown Jamie your loose tooth?” Brad ran over to her, opened his mouth wide, and wiggled one of his top teeth with his finger, his original question forgotten. “Wow, it looks like it’s about to fall out…uh…” She leaned toward Nick. “It’s hard to tell them apart.” “I know. Sometimes I get it wrong.” “No, you don’t, Daddy.” Brent defended his father. “Mom says you do, but you always know.” Nick’s smile was resigned. “She says a lot of things that aren’t quite true.” He pulled Brent into a rough hug. “All you have to remember is that I love you both very, very much.” Brad couldn’t be left out and wiggled his way into the hug, a move that Nick welcomed. After a thorough squeeze, he let them go and stood up. “Why don’t you two go get washed up? Maybe Grammy needs some help setting the table.” “Dad, can we go to Jamie’s and see the dogs?” Brent asked. “Maybe one day.” Nick kept his answer vague, because not even he knew how much longer he would be going to Jamie’s farm. “Yay!” They started to run to the house. “Hold up, I need some help with the okra,” Nick called. They stopped and backpedaled, racing each other, Brad doing a reverse somersault in the grass just short of their imaginary finish line. “Take this bucket in to Grammy.” Nick handed Brent the bucket. He was the more responsible of the two, although anything could happen between here and the kitchen. “Try not to spill any.” Brad hopped around, but Brent carefully carried the bucket to the house, with only a few okra pods falling out along the way. Jamie laughed. “They’ve got the energy of a barn full of puppies.” Nick nodded as he finished brushing the dirt and grass off his jeans and shirt. “I love being around them, but they wear me out.” He whistled for Harley, who had been following a scent with his nose to the ground. The dog reluctantly ended his hunt and caught up to Nick and Jamie just as they reached the house. Once inside, they were drawn to the delicious aromas coming from the kitchen. “What can I do to help?” Jamie asked. “I haven’t had a chance to cut the okra and batter it. If you could do that, it’ll fry it up in just a few minutes. Nick, could you check on the boys? We need to get the corn on to boil.” Nick went out on the porch, where the boys were vigorously shucking the corn, with husks and silk flying everywhere. He caught them just before they broke into a sword fight with their cleaned ears, and he grabbed the corn out of their hands. “All finished? Good. Let’s take these to Grammy.” “I did the most,” Brent told him, obediently picking up the basket. “Did not. I did more,” Brad protested.

“Did not!” Brent shouted. “You both are the best corn shuckers I’ve ever seen. I’m sure everyone will appreciate your hard work.” They entered the kitchen, and Brent proudly handed the basket of corn to Grammy. “Wow! You guys did a great job.” She carried the corn to the sink, where she gave it one more thorough washing before dropping each ear into a pot of boiling water. “Nicky, I’m going to need some help getting this pig out of the oven in a minute. Justin, set the table. How’s the okra coming?” Grammy asked. She was coordinating the meal with military precision. “All done,” Jamie answered. “I was just about to drop them in the cornmeal and flour.” Grammy turned to Nick. “You picked a good one this time. She knows how to cook okra, Southern style.” “I didn’t…” Nick started to say, then shut up. No matter what he said, Grammy would believe what she wanted. “Grammy is always good at organizing a big meal.” Justin laughed as he pulled plates out of the cupboard. Within twenty minutes, they were all seated at the massive dining room table. The windows were open, allowing splashes of sunlight and a light breeze to pour in, keeping the temperature bearable. Soon the summer heat would hit and send the thermometer climbing to the nineties and even low hundreds. That was when Grammy would ignore her preference for natural climate control and turn on the air conditioner. “Bread? Baked it fresh this morning.” Grammy passed the bread basket to Nick, who took a slice and passed it along. “Everything looks amazing, Grammy.” Jamie took a piece of bread and passed the basket to Brent, who had rushed to the table and plopped into the chair next to her. He looked up at her with wide, perceptive eyes, so like his father’s…without the cynicism. “This table has raised three grandsons and now two great-grandsons…and hopefully many more,” Grammy added with a wink at Jamie. “Let’s thank the Lord for our neighbor and his 4H project.” She led them all in a blessing that was, thankfully, short, and everyone dug in. “What’s 4-H, Grammy?” Brad asked. “It’s like a club where kids learn how to raise farm animals, then enter them in contests… usually at the county fair…and eventually, they become our food.” Brent stopped eating and stared at his plate and the large piece of partially eaten ham lying there. He slowly put his fork down. “I’m not hungry.” “Your dad raised chickens for his 4-H project one year, Brent. We ate them for Sunday dinner….Remember that, Nicky?” Nick nodded, not willing to discuss his one and only 4-H project. Somehow, he hadn’t really thought it through when he raised the tiny yellow puffs of feathers into grown chickens. He’d made the mistake of naming them and making them pets. At the county fair they’d won just an honorable-mention ribbon, and he’d been delighted because that meant they wouldn’t be sold at auction. He hadn’t counted on Grammy’s live-off-the-land philosophy. One day when he came home from school, his chickens were gone, only to turn up fried for the next Sunday

dinner. Nick hadn’t eaten chicken for years after that. He didn’t say anything but just took the ham off Brent’s plate, dropped it on the floor for Harley, and gave Brent another piece of bread. “I remember that,” Justin spoke up. “My calf won Grand Champion. Wasn’t that the year Nick was chasing that girl around the barn? What was her name? Skinny redhead…” Nick tried to stop Justin with a stare, but Justin ignored him. “Megan. Megan Royce,” Grammy said, supplying the missing name. “Her family moved away soon after that.” “Did you ever catch her?” Jamie asked. Nick looked at her out of the corner of his eye and grinned. “Darlin’, I was the reason her family left.” That started an avalanche of stories about Justin, Nick, and Luke when they were boys, and all the mischief they had created. Brent and Brad listened intently, probably taking mental notes on what they could hope to get away with because their father had done it first. Finally, when everyone had eaten their fill, the boys jumped up, their attention span at an end. “Can we ride the ponies now? Daddy, can we?” Brad and Brent leaped up and down, their voices growing louder and shriller, amped up by the large pieces of chocolate cake they had eaten. Nick looked over at Jamie, a silent question in his eyes. “Go ahead. I’ll help Grammy with the dishes,” Jamie said. “Absolutely not,” Grammy declared. “Justin is going to help me while you go with Nick and the boys.” “You might as well go,” Justin told them. “Grammy doesn’t change her mind.” Jamie still seemed uncertain, but she went with Nick out to the barn. Brad and Brent were already there, dragging the garbage bag of corn husks up the fence. Harley happily followed along, acting more like a regular dog than Nick had ever seen him. After the ponies had been hand-fed the corn husks, Nick helped the boys saddle them. He wanted them to learn how to take care of the horses and to be comfortable around all the livestock. His ex-wife might love living in an urban neighborhood, but his kids weren’t going to be city slickers if he had anything to say about it. Once the boys were mounted on the ponies, he felt comfortable leaving them to explore the small pasture that was the ponies’ domain. There was a group of trees at one end and a little stream running through it that would give them plenty to explore. “You’re a good father,” Jamie commented as she leaned on the fence next to Nick. “You sound surprised,” Nick teased. “What did you think I did when I wasn’t working…get drunk and drown kittens?” She had the grace to flush. “Of course not. It’s just that when I see you with your boys, it makes you so…human.” “And you’d rather think of me as a sex machine.” She punched him in the arm. “Don’t flatter yourself. I’d rather not think of you at all.” He moved behind her and, without actually touching her, he whispered in her ear, “Except

when you’re horny.” “Don’t be crass.” “If I didn’t have the boys, I’d take you up on your offer of trying out your bedroom.” He nibbled her ear and moved forward until his body brushed lightly against hers. His nibbles turned into kisses, following the curve of her neck until he was nuzzling the delicate skin above her shoulder. She exhaled with a sigh and leaned back against him. He had started it as a tease, but with her ass pressed against his groin, the joke was on him. She smelled like lavender and sunshine and her soft hair tickled his cheek. Blood raced through his body, settling in his dick, which jumped to attention. “What will your boys think if they see us?” Her voice was soft and quavery. “They already think you’re my girlfriend…which, by the way, would be a first.” “Oh, come on….Your place probably has a revolving door.” “I date, but there’s been no one special woman in my life since my ex-wife. And no, the boys have never met any of my dates.” “Hmm…” She was lost in the sensation. Her hips slowly moved from side to side, rubbing against the hard swell of his erection. Which, of course, only made it worse. He knew he had to step away or pick her up, carry her to the barn, and rip all her clothes off. “Daddy, look at me,” Brad called out. “My pony can jump that log.” Shit! So much for option two. Nick took a deep, steadying breath and stepped back, still keeping Jamie between him and the boys…to hide the growing bulge in his pants. “I’m watching,” he called back to Brad. Jamie leaned on the fence in front of her. Brad’s pony trotted past and headed for a small tree that had fallen near the stream. The pony didn’t really jump. It was more of a high step, but once on the other side, Brad was jubilant. “Did you see me, Dad? I made it!” By then, Nick was much more in control of his body and his mind. “Great job, bubba.” “Watch me, Daddy,” Brent demanded. Nick watched his other son repeat the less-than-Olympic jump. “Way to go, Brent.” “I’ve got sangria,” Grammy called from the porch. That was enough motivation for Nick. “You guys be careful,” he shouted out to his boys. It wasn’t the first time they had ridden without parental supervision. As long as they stayed in the small pasture, there was little danger. Nick and Jamie joined the other adults on the front porch. He chose a rocker that had a view of the pasture, just in case. Grammy had a tall pitcher of sangria, loaded with fresh fruit. Harley found a spot on the cool Saint Augustine grass in the shade of a large oak tree just off the porch. He too had picked a spot where he could keep an eye on both the adults and the kids. “I remember sitting here with my friends, watching you boys out there riding and riding for hours,” Grammy commented. A half-smoked joint was pinched between her fingers. “I would

have to go out and drag you boys in for dinner.” She drew in another inhale from her joint before exhaling slowly. Nick and Justin exchanged exasperated looks and shook their heads. It was contrary to the laws they had pledged to uphold. And yet…she was an old lady…and their grandmother. “What have you been working on?” Nick asked his brother. It was easier to ignore Grammy’s naughty little habit than to make an issue of it. “They’ve got me tracking down some gang leaders. They’re slippery, but sooner or later, they’ll make a mistake. How’s the drug business?” “New customers born…and die…every day. I’m trying to find and shut down the killer loosie lab.” “I’ve heard about those. It’s kind of becoming an epidemic on campus, isn’t it?” “Ironic, since a lot of the students won’t even eat gluten. They think loosie-gooseys are a healthy alternative to some of the other recreational options out there.” Nick put down his sangria. “Hey, Grammy, do you have anything stronger?” “There’s beer in the fridge.” Grammy leaned toward Jamie. “It’s even worse when Luke is here. All they talk about is shop. Before they all signed up to go get the bad guys, I could entertain them with stories about Woodstock, Monterey, Newport….Hell, I was at all of them.” “As a musician?” Jamie asked, genuinely interested in Grammy’s fascinating stories. “Not at those concerts. But when I wasn’t singing, I was a groupie. Big time. Spent a week on the road with the Dead, Van Morrison, and Joni Mitchell….Those were the days.” Her wrinkled face relaxed into a gentle smile as she reminisced. It washed years away until it was easy to imagine what she must have looked like back then. “Is life on a dog farm stressful?” Justin asked. “At times,” Jamie answered. “Between the dogs and my brother, I have a lot of mouths to feed. I can handle most of the veterinary care, but there’s the cost of medicines and shots. Since my husband died, the placements seem to run in spurts. I’ve been trying to get more ongoing contracts, but you know how it is when the government is involved…slow decisions and slower pay.” “Well, this party sucks,” Nick said as he bounced to his feet. Jamie’s dead husband popped into more conversations than if he had been sitting across from them. Feeling unreasonably grumpy, Nick suggested, “Let’s go throw some horseshoes.” “Twenty bucks says I score more than you,” Justin challenged. “Only twenty? You must not be feeling very confident today,” Nick snapped back. The two men jostled and punched each other as they walked to the horseshoe pit in the backyard. Grammy nudged Jamie. “Boys never really grow up, do they?” “Unfortunately, no.” Nick heard them, but he didn’t turn around to defend himself. The two women had their own preconceived notions about men, and there was nothing he could do to change that. —

Jamie tossed and turned for about an hour after she went to bed. Even though she knew she had to be up early the next day, she just couldn’t get to sleep. She hadn’t expected to have such a good time today. Grammy was a hoot, full of stories and words of wisdom, and Nick’s brother Justin had been six-plus feet of eye candy. But it was Nick whose ruggedly handsome face was stuck in her mind. The visit to the farm had shown her a whole new side of him. All signs of bravado and cockiness were gone when he interacted with his kids. His love for them glowed in his eyes, and the way he treated his grandmother, with respect and just a touch of exasperation, had been endearing. Jamie would have never used the word vulnerable to describe the Nick she’d first met. Now she could see that nothing about that first impression was accurate. Except that he was the most exasperatingly attractive man she had ever met. That was even more true with every minute she was with him. She knew it was only temporary, and soon enough he would be out of her life forever. She had to put him out of her life forever. She flopped over to her other side and squeezed her eyes closed. He bothered her in ways she didn’t want to be bothered. He reminded her how it felt to be truly live again…which made her feel guilty. What right did she have to feel alive when her beloved husband was dead? Was it okay for her to have a good time with another man when she had vowed to love Mike forever? Which reminded her about her friends-with-benefits plan. But that had nothing to do with love and would be temporary. Surely Mike would understand as long as her heart didn’t get involved…which it wouldn’t. Jamie was looking forward to never seeing Nick again…just not yet.

Chapter 7 Nick pulled into his assigned parking place at the DEA building. He unloaded Harley out of the backseat. This was the dog’s first visit here, so his nose was busy checking out the smells as they went through the employee entrance. It was just after seven a.m., and the office was still quiet. The dog tag jingling on Harley’s collar was the only sound as they walked down the hallway to Nick’s office. They stopped at the restroom, where Nick filled up a large stainlesssteel bowl and carried it to his office. He set it down next to his credenza. “Harley, down.” Nick pointed to the floor next to his desk. Harley took a quick drink, then circled and lay where Nick had indicated, but facing the door. Nick smiled, gave Harley a pat on the head, and collapsed onto his chair. So far he and Harley were doing great together. Nick was still getting used to taking walks and cleaning up poop. That was definitely a downside. But he was kind of enjoying having Harley around. The unexpected bonus was that the dog was a babe magnet. Women who would normally have walked right past would stop and chat about Harley or their own dog. Another of life’s ironies. Women were crawling out of the woodwork, and he was hung up on the only one who wouldn’t have him. Nick shuffled through the papers on his desk and listened to his voicemail messages. Most he immediately deleted. Only a few he saved so he could call them later. “So this is Harry?” Bobbi paused in the doorway. Today she was wearing a royal blue pantsuit with a bluebird pin on the lapel. Harley stood and took a watchful stance, his head lowered and tail perfectly still. He didn’t growl, but the hair down the ridge of his back bristled. “Harley,” Nick corrected, then looked concerned. “Wish I could remember how to call him off. Should have asked that question, I guess. But we had only two days’ training, so we had to skip something.” Bobbi smiled. “Ha-ha, very funny.” She took a step into the room, then stopped as Harley’s upper lip quivered, revealing a flash of large white teeth. “We’re in the conference room….Come join us. Welcome aboard, Harley.” She looked at Nick. “Keep him on a leash.” Bobbi stepped backward until she was safely in the hallway, then turned and walked slowly away. Nick laughed and petted Harley. “Good job, boy. You recognize trouble when you see it.” He typed a text to Jamie. Forgot to ask. How do I tell Harley to attack or stop attacking someone? Nick stood, picked up the leash, which was still attached to Harley’s collar, and walked toward the door. No words were needed as Harley walked against his left leg all the way to the conference room. Inside, Bobbi sat on one side of the table and a man sat across from her. “Nick, this is Dean Turner. Dean is the dean of students at UT.” Nick reached out and shook hands. “Dean…Dean.”

“Hard to resist, isn’t it?” Dean smiled. “Call me Dean….We’ll just keep this on a first-name basis.” Nick sat in a chair in the corner facing the door and pointed to where Harley was to lie down. “Harley, down,” he said in a soft voice, and Harley complied. “Good-looking dog. How old?” Dean asked. Nick smiled and sat up straighter in his chair. “Three years.” Bobbi spoke to Dean, but her gaze remained focused on Harley. “Nick will be leading the team to find and arrest the source of the loosie-gooseys being distributed at UT. Nick’s our top agent, and now he’s got a fully trained dog to help him.” “Yesterday I was in San Antonio at the funeral of Manny Diaz. He died an awful death after smoking just one loosie. But as horrible as his death was, it paled in comparison to the grief on the faces of the crowd of mourners who packed the church.” Dean looked down at the table, shook his head, and fought back tears before regaining eye contact. “His parents told me how much Manny loved being a student at the university and how much they appreciated me coming to the funeral. No parents, no kids, and no university should ever go through that.” Bobbi glanced at Nick. Nick pulled a baggie of the specialty cigarettes out and slid it across the conference table toward Dean. “This is what the kids are smoking. Instead of tobacco, it has herbs and synthetic pot and tastes liked it’s been soaked in cherry, apple, grape, and other juices. The darker rings in the cigarette’s paper are laced with a synthetic drug that imitates THC.” “The darker rings are the drug?” Dean asked. “No…normal cigarette paper has those same concentric-circle striations….They’re called burn rings. Regular cigarette makers put them every place there are different thicknesses in the paper. It controls the speed at which the cigarette burns, slowing it automatically when the smoker is not inhaling. The soaking of the paper in the liquid drug just darkens them.” “They really stand out.” “Yeah…We don’t know if the drugs themselves are the killers because they’re badly made, or if the concentration is inconsistent and sometimes so high that it’s fatal, or if they’re mixing some other shit in with the herbs. If we could get our hands on one of the tainted loosies, we could analyze it, but until then it’s all speculation.” “Why the flavored papers, Nick?” Bobbi asked. “It confuses the dogs, unless they’ve been specially trained for this. Plus, it gives the impression that loosies are safe and healthy and fun.” “Harley can find them?” Bobbi asked. “Jamie worked on it a little, but he’ll need more training.” Nick knew that guaranteed more trips to the barn…and that was all right with him. “I guess I need to ask, what are your plans to get this stuff off the campus?” Dean asked. “Well, we need to sit down internally and get it planned out,” Bobbi answered vaguely. “Let me assure you we will…” Nick became distracted by the vibration of his cellphone. He pulled it out of his pocket but kept it below the table and away from Dean and Bobbi. The text message was from Jamie. He

bit back a smile at the sight of her name on his screen. He hoped there would be more than just the answer to his question. Re: Harley’s attack commands…better if I demonstrate. When? He thumbed the message back up and read it again and again, growing more excited by the moment at the prospect of all the things she could demonstrate. With his thumb, he typed back, ASAP. Don’t want him to kill someone accidentally. “Nick? Do you agree with Dean?” Bobbi asked directly. Wow. Now what? She sounded pissed. What did I miss? he thought frantically. Time for some Archer bullshit. “Of course…plans rarely go exactly as originally laid out. Dean is absolutely right, and we may have to adjust, but we have time to do that.” Dean smiled. If he knew Nick had fudged his answer, it wasn’t obvious. “I’m impressed, Bobbi. I have total confidence that Nick can handle this.” He glanced at his watch. “I need to get back. I’ll let myself out.” “Regulations, Dean…I’ll walk you out.” Bobbi turned to Nick. “I’ll be back in a minute.” “So long, Dean.” Nick shook his hand. “Keep me up-to-date, Nick. Don’t make me go to any more funerals.” “I’ll do my best,” Nick promised, knowing that would be only in the most general terms. Some of his methods might not be college approved, and Nick’s policy was that it was better to ask for forgiveness than to ask for permission. Nick checked the baggie of loosies to make sure it was tightly sealed, then returned it to his pocket. Harley noticed and stood up, his ears alert and his tail wagging. “Not today, boy. But soon. You and me, buddy, are going to kill this thing.” Nick bent over and rubbed Harley’s ears. He pulled out his phone and checked to see if Jamie had replied. “How’s Harley dealing with the office?” Nick looked up abruptly and saw that Bobbi had returned to the conference room. “Fine, I guess.” “Look, Nick…don’t ruin him by teaching him to want to go out every time you’re in a meeting. Okay?” Nick tried to look insulted. “Reading my mind now, Bobbi?” “Are you two ready to get on this right away?” “I need to go back and work on those attack commands. Plus, he could use a little more loosie-goosey training.” “Good idea. What’s your thought about this campus thing? Were you even listening?” “Come on, Bobbi…I’m insulted. I’m your best agent and—” “Were you?” Nick had tried to stall, but Bobbi was a skilled interrogator. Nick gave up. “No. What did he say?” “He said whatever you do, you can’t come in with guns blazing….You need to blend in. Can you do that for a change?” “I can do that. These guys are amateurs. That bar buy was nothing. I’ll just go in as exmilitary with some PTSD issues and Harley will be my service dog. Jamie was telling me they’re excellent for that, so it’ll be a great cover.”

“So you’re okay with pretending to be a student?” Holy shit, how much had he missed? “Uh…no. I was a crappy student when I still had all my brain cells. And I’m older than dirt now.” “You’ve gone undercover with cartels and drug rings,” Bobbi snorted. “Surely taking a bullshit class and trying to buddy up to the kids isn’t as dangerous as living in a box in Cartagena.” “I’m not so sure,” Nick muttered. “Have you been on a college campus lately?” “No,” Bobbi admitted, “but you can make it work. Dean said there are a lot of unconventional students at UT now. I think your best bet would be in the Creative Arts Department. It seems to attract the more…free-spirited kids.” Oh boy, I’m going back to college, Nick thought to himself without enthusiasm. He hadn’t been all that crazy about it when he was eighteen. He doubted it had gotten better in the last eighteen years. But if this was the plan, then…“Sure, I’m in.” “Okay, sign out some cash and have Terri issue you a burner phone. You’re going to have to find a way to get people to trust you so you can make more buys and follow it to the source.” “No problem…I’ve got a guy. We’re going to make our own,” he told her. “I don’t want to know.” She shook her head and covered her ears. “I don’t want to know.” “He can make any strength…all safe.” Bobbi put her hands on the table and leaned toward Nick. “Enough. Just get the bad lab shut down. And don’t arrest any more congressmen’s kids for caffeine possession. Oh, and don’t let Harley bite anyone.” She looked down at Harley, who was giving her the evil eye. “Fuck, Nick…What did you tell him about me?” — Nick exited the registrar’s office at UT with his backpack stuffed full of paperwork and a water bottle hanging from a chain. He was carrying a one-class load, which should be enough to provide an excuse to mingle with the students. Dean Dean had greased the wheels, so Nick’s entry had been quick and smooth. With a student ID, he could do his real job unencumbered and without suspicion. Nick hadn’t actually been a student on a campus for many years, and the first thing he noticed was that the scenery had improved significantly. None of these girls looked or dressed like the ones he’d gone to school with. Not that any of them were giving him a second look. Nick was beginning to regret leaving Harley at home today, penned up in the kitchen of his townhouse. And it wasn’t just because the dog attracted women. He and Harley had been companions 24-7 for the past few days, and Nick had gotten used to having the dog around. He even kind of missed having him by his side, which was weird because Nick never missed anyone or anything. Except when it came to Jamie. He had kind of gotten used to having her around too. He wasn’t sure when he would have time to get back out there, but he was hoping it would be soon. They’d exchanged a few texts, mostly about Harley, though none about what was predominantly on both of their minds. For now, he had to focus on his integration into college. His first job was to locate

Professor Hutchens in UT’s Moody College of Communications and get formally admitted to his class in radio, television, and film studies. After all, who was more likely into drugs than liberal arts students hoping to be part of the entertainment world? Professor Hutchens taught a survey course for students that focused on “the intersections of class, gender, sexuality, and citizenship in the film industry,” as the catalog described it. No real tests, just watching movies and bullshitting about them…Seemed like a safe class. Nick ran up the steps of the media center on West Dean Keeton Street in the heart of the UT campus. He was looking around for the room number when a beautiful blond coed, wearing barely-there shorts and a midriff-baring crop top, came up to him. “Can I help you, sir?” Sir! Jeez…how old does she think I am? “Sure can…I’m looking for Professor Hutchens.” “Cool…I’m heading to his class now. It’s right down the hall.” “Great.” “I’m Sam.” She reached out to shake his hand. “Hey, Sam…Nick.” Nick wasn’t much for using a different name when he went undercover. Less to remember. They went up another set of stairs to the second floor. “If you need someone to show you around, I’m available.” She flashed him a perky smile. In fact, everything about her was perky…perky little nose…perky, firm breasts, whose shapes were clearly visible beneath the clingy fabric. Even her hair was perky in a young–Meg Ryan kind of way. “Oh…okay…sure. This is my first day, and I’m starting a week late. I could use a little guidance.” “Here’s Professor Hutchens’s office.” They paused in front of an open door. “Thanks.” “See you in class,” she said with a flirty smile as she continued down the hallway. — After Nick got the all-clear from Professor Hutchens, including permission to bring his service dog with him on occasion, he found his classroom and took a seat near the back of the room so he could observe the students. Sam was sitting several rows ahead of him, between two beefy young men who were probably football players looking for easy credits. She turned and gave him a fluttery-finger wave and another smile. He nodded and returned the smile. Professor Hutchens, an elderly man who had probably been teaching when TV was first broadcast in the late 1940s, dropped his book bag on the table at the front of the lecture hall. He turned and wrote his last name on the whiteboard, the word zero, and the number fifty before turning around to speak. “Ladies and gentlemen, welcome. As a reminder, those are the three pieces of information you’ll need to keep in mind as you work through my course. My name, the number of office hours for which I am available, and the number of hours of television and film you will need to watch every week during this course to pass. And don’t reverse those last two numbers.” Hutchens glanced over at Nick. “I did that for your benefit, sir, since you missed the first week. You will be expected to catch up. I’m sure one of the students will give you a list of the

films we’ve already watched.” Nick nodded in acknowledgment of Hutchens’s comments and made a mental note of the assignment. He listened to the lecture and discussion by the class on the past week’s viewings: two films and a dozen TV programs covering a wide variety of broadcast and cable channels. Because it was summer session, the class was two hours long, which could have been horribly boring. But Nick found himself enjoying it. He’d always been a film buff, and this was giving him a new appreciation. Why hadn’t they had classes like this when he was in college? The time passed quickly, and when he exited the classroom, he found Sam waiting for him. She was attractive but almost young enough to be his daughter. That sobering thought completely turned him off. Besides, the image of Jamie was occupying that part of his brain right now, and he was on a mission that even thinking about coed sex would only complicate. But Sam would be good for expanding his circle of friends. “Hey, Nick.” She smiled broadly with her head tilted to one side. She knew exactly how cute she was….“Enjoy the class?” “Yeah, it was cool.” “Professor Hutchens really knows his shit.” “He seems to. Can you give me a list of everything I missed?” “Sure, I’ll write it down for you. They’re all really old, but you can find most of them on Netflix or one of the old movie channels.” “I probably saw them on their first run,” he said, only half joking. She laughed. “You’re not that old.” He had never felt older. “So, I’m heading over to the Kerbey Lane Café.” She pointed to a small place across the street. “Wanna come with? I can help you get caught up.” “Haven’t been there….Is it good?” “Yeah…and cheap. All my friends hang out there. It’s close to everyone’s houses.” “Cool.” Nick smiled and followed her out of the building and across Guadalupe Street. The café was in a single-story structure on the corner with signage advertising it was open 24-7. “It’s a great place to grab breakfast if you live near here.” “Do a lot of the kids in mass-com live around here?” She opened the door and went in ahead of him. “Yeah, most of us. Study together and party together, ya know?” “Makes sense.” “Booth okay?” Sam asked, pointing to the last one on the left. Nick nodded and slid into the seat opposite her, trying not to disturb the cotton stuffing that was falling out of the cracked upholstery. “Busy place.” “Great food and huge portions. On the days I have an early class, I get the short stack and then I skip lunch.” “What’s good?” There were single-sheet laminated menus on the table behind the

condiments, but Nick didn’t bother with them. He figured it was wise to trust a native. “Their club sandwich—with the ham, smoked turkey, and the other stuff—is delicious. And it comes with a shitload of fries.” “Sounds good.” A waiter, who was probably also a student, approached. “You guys know what you want?” “Yeah, two clubs on sourdough,” Nick ordered, taking the lead out of force of habit. “Make mine whole wheat,” Sam spoke up. “And a Coors Light.” “Ditto.” “It’ll be right out,” the waiter said. “So what’s your story, Nick?” Sam’s eyes were a peaceful blue but laser focused on his. “Story? Three tours in Afghanistan, and all I got was some shrapnel in my leg, college tuition, and my friend Harley. What’s your story?” Sam smiled. “My parents think I should get a degree so I can take care of myself. That’s why I picked film and TV studies. I think I’m pretty enough to go on TV….Don’t you?” “Definitely TV material. Prime time.” “You’re sweet, Nick. I’m taking drama classes and production with a concentration on television. Next summer I’ll intern at one of my dad’s stations.” “Your dad has his own TV stations?” “Only three,” she answered nonchalantly. “Here you go.” The server set their sandwiches on the table. Sam squirted a generous amount of ketchup on her French fries, then popped one in her mouth before picking up her sandwich and taking a bite. Nick followed her lead and ate in silence until all they had left were French fries. She had been right about the quantity. “Who’s Harley?” she asked. “He’s my service dog….You know, keeps me calm. I’ll probably bring him to some of the classes.” “That’s cool. I like dogs.” “Me too, but my doc says I should spend more time with people.” “Really?” Sam smiled gently. “Your doc?” “Yeah…some leftover shit from the war.” “PSDT stuff?” Nick glanced at her and ate another French fry to keep from rolling his eyes. “Yeah, PTSD… stuff.” “You look so sad…and lonely.” She reached out and squeezed his arm. “How about coming with me tonight? Ya know, it’ll give you a chance to meet some people and have some fun.” Nick didn’t answer immediately “Oh, come on. It’ll be good for you. You and I can be study buddies…you know, watch some films and TV shows together.” “Sounds rough.” Nick smiled.

“Sam!” a guy’s voice shouted from behind Nick. “Hey, Bane! Come join us!” She scooted toward the window and the new guy sat down. “Nick, this is Bane…Bane, Nick. Nick’s new to UT. He’s in my film and TV class.” Bane reached his fist out and Nick reciprocated with a bump. “Bane. Interesting name.” Bane laughed. “I get that a lot. I was born in Ocean Pointe, near Honolulu, but my mother was German.” “Why go to school here?” Nick asked. He pushed his half-finished plate of French fries toward Bane, who gratefully started eating them. “My parents needed some alone time….I was a bad boy, I guess.” He shrugged and grinned, more proud than apologetic. “I get that,” Nick said, not really getting it at all. Of the thousands of major universities in the United States, why UT? Especially when Hawaii was an option. Bane turned toward Sam. “You guys should come over later. I’ve got some new loosies.” “You game, Nick?” “Yeah…I’m all about it. In fact…I happen to have some with me.” Nick had spent yesterday afternoon with his chemist friend coming up with a formula for special loosies that would fool, but not kill, people. They were in the usual fruit flavors that all the others were, but instead of THC, the circles contained traces of nutmeg, which was not only legal but harmless. Hopefully the nutmeg and the placebo effect would make the participants think the euphoria they were feeling was a THC high. He knew it was a gamble, but as with most advertising campaigns, he was counting on the gullibility of the audience, and college kids should be easy targets, especially if they were already a little high on other drugs or alcohol. The next few hours passed, with a changing cast of Sam’s friends coming and going. Several more orders of fries, beer, soft drinks, and burgers were shared among the new arrivals, thanks to Nick’s generous expense account. “Hey, let’s get out of here,” Sam finally suggested. Bane had left earlier, but apparently his place was the regular hangout, so it was understood that would be the destination. Everyone obediently slid out of the booth, and soon there were six of them making the quick four-block walk to Bane’s house. It was a two-story midcentury just off fraternity row and, by the number of beer cans on the front porch, a popular place to hang out. “Hey, Bane!” Sam yelled as soon as they arrived. Bane’s head popped out of a second-floor, corner-room window. “Be right down, guys.” They made themselves comfortable in the mix-and-match collection of chairs on the front porch. Nick tried not to kick over any of the dozen or so cans that were overflowing with cigarette butts as he sat down on a rickety rocker. “I’d go easy on that, buddy….It collapsed a couple of weeks ago,” one of the guys cautioned. “Thanks.” Nick didn’t want to seem like a wuss by getting up, so he tried not to move and disrupt the delicate balance. “Two kids were getting some tongue time, and I guess they were a little…overenthusiastic,” Sam explained. “Hey, guys,” Bane said as he popped out on the porch with a tall blond girl in tow.

“Oh hi, Nick. Glad you could make it.” Bane held out his fist for a bump. Nick stood and completed the obligatory man shake. Apparently Bane was big on fist bumps. “Just hanging with Sam.” “This is Jess.” Bane wrapped his arm around the blond girl’s neck and pulled her closer to him in a hold that was more possessive than affectionate. Jess eyed Nick critically. “How old are you, anyway?” Nick tried not to react and managed an amused grin. “Old enough to get shot at in ’Stan. When I got out, I said, What the fuck? Why not school?” He met her gaze steadily. “You?” “Never mind her,” Sam said, giving Jess a warning glare. “She does that to anyone who looks over twenty.” “I’m definitely over twenty.” He shrugged. “They call me a nonconventional student.” Bane held out his fist for yet another bump. Nick was beginning to think the kid had a problem. “Way to go, dude,” Bane declared with admiration. “You do loosies?” “Among other things.” Nick pulled the baggie out of his backpack, pulled one out for himself, and passed the rest to Sam. Working undercover, he had to be convincing, even partaking, if necessary. In the course of his job, he’d bought and sold drugs on the street. But he couldn’t, in all good conscience…or probably even legally…give loaded loosies to minors. And he wanted to use his supply because he knew it was safe. “Enjoy.” “Really? Cool.” Sam took one and passed it along. “Thanks, dude.” Bane nodded his approval. “Hey, what kind of guest would I be if I smoked yours?” Nick asked. Once everyone had one, they lit them up and drew in long and deep, then exhaled slowly. “Hmm…strawberry. Nice…,” Jess said as she savored the flavor. “This is good stuff. Did you make it?” Bane asked. Nick chuckled and shook his head. “Nah, I don’t cook anything….I got a guy I trust. I heard kids are dropping dead from these things.” The mood on the porch changed abruptly, darkening as if a thundercloud had blocked the sun. “What?” Nick looked from one face to another. Sam spoke up softly, almost whispering. “Bane lost a housemate a couple of weeks ago. Several kids we know have gotten sick.” “Who’s selling that shit?” Nick pretended to be indignant when, in fact, he was anxiously listening for a name. “Why the big interest, dude?” a girl named Jess asked, her eyes narrowed suspiciously. “You a cop or something?” Nick knew how to laugh off a challenge. He’d been in plenty of situations where if he’d been revealed, his career would have been immediately and violently terminated. “What the fuck? Really?” He snorted in disgust. “We’re sitting here smoking my shit, talking about kids who have died from smoking someone else’s shit! Do I look like a narc?” She studied him for a minute. “Nah, not really. You don’t have a ponytail or a pierced ear.

For some reason narcs always think that makes them blend in. Sorry.” “No problem.” Nick waved it off. “In the military, we didn’t tolerate informers or spies. We’d tie them up and dump them in the latrine. By the time they climbed out, they had a whole different attitude.” Jess burst out laughing and choked on her last hit. She staggered to the railing and spit onto the dust and weeds that was once a lawn. “You okay?” Bane asked, laughing, but made no attempt to help her. Jess recovered and rejoined the group. “I need a beer…between hits.” “Go get us some beer,” he ordered Jess, and gave her a slap on the ass as she got off his lap. Jess disappeared through the open front door and returned quickly with beers, which she passed out to everyone. Nick eagerly took a big swig. This was a vice he definitely embraced. “So, how many guys did you kill in combat, Nick?” Bane asked. “A few. I didn’t count.” “So, you’re like that sniper dude from the movie?” Sam asked. “Nah, he was in a whole different league. I was just part of the team….Go out and clear the buildings, you know?” “How does it feel to kill someone?” Bane persisted. “It’s pretty fucked up. MK318 bullets do nasty shit to flesh and bone. If I never see any more blood and guts, I’ll be just fine.” Nick dropped his head and stared at the scuffed toes of his Doc Martens. This was actually getting too close to home, pulling up memories he’d rather not have bouncing around inside his head. “Yeah…it fucked me up a little. I’ve got a service dog named Harley…to get me through the bad times.” “Harley…cool,” Brandi said, now completely buying into Nick’s story. “This Saturday we’re having a major porch party. You should come back and bring more of this shit,” Sam said as she flicked the nub of her loosie off the porch. “It’s got a different kind of taste that I really like.” “I’ll check my calendar,” Nick said, then laughed. “Sure, I’ll be here.” He downed the rest of his beer. “I better get going. I’m not sure how Harley liked being locked up all day.” “See you in class tomorrow.” Sam smiled. “Same time, same place.” Nick gave her a jaunty wave and headed down the walk. “Thanks for the good shit,” Bane said, and Jess nodded. Nick didn’t look back as he headed toward the campus, where he’d parked his truck. So far, so good. Except he’d had plans with Jamie on Saturday night. Of course, she hadn’t known about them yet. But now he’d be hanging out with stoned kids instead of checking out that bed in the barn. Fuck me! he thought. His job or his dick…His job always won.

Chapter 8 Nick parked in front of his Austin townhouse. It was a nice community, a little past its prime but well maintained. Every unit consisted of four one-story townhouses, two on the ground floor and two on the top. Mature trees and large Texas limestone rocks were scattered throughout, and each unit was landscaped with shrubs and a small Saint Augustine grass lawn in front, and there was a wide green space along the back, behind the fenced-in patios. It wasn’t fancy, but it fit his salary and someone else did all the yardwork, which made it a winner, as far as Nick was concerned. One bedroom for him to sleep in and a second decorated in contemporary drug-agent chic was all he needed. No woman had ever lived there with him, so there weren’t any drapes covering the windows or satin pillows on the couch. Blinds kept the sunshine out when he was trying to sleep and offered privacy from nosy neighbors. No fancy coffeemakers or wine refrigerators cluttered his kitchen counter. Just a four-cup Mr. Coffee and a microwave provided the necessities to survive. An eighteen-pack of beer took up most of the space in the small refrigerator, sitting next to a half bottle of milk, a stale loaf of white bread, and a jar of grape jelly. Just as he started to get out of his truck, Nick’s phone rang, and he looked down at the caller ID. It was Jamie, and a smile stretched across his face. “Hey, how are you?” “I’m good. How’s Harley?” “Harley?” Of course she was calling about the dog. “I’m not sure…exactly. I just pulled—” A jolt knocked the phone from his hand. He leaned down and picked it up, then looked around to see what had hit him. “What the fuck? I gotta call you back….Shit.” He ended the call, dropped the phone in his pocket, and scrambled out of his truck. Flush against his rear bumper was a white Toyota Camry. Inside it a sixty-plus-year-old woman was yelling out the window at him. Nick walked quickly toward her, searching for damage to his truck and signaling for her to get out and talk with him. He recognized her as his obnoxious neighbor and the HOA president, Gail McDonald. They’d been neighbors for four years and had never actually had a conversation. But her reputation as a crazy-ass dragon lady preceded her. She didn’t get out but leaned further out of her window. “Mr. Archer, I’ll give you exactly one hour to get that creature from your porch and off this property. You know the rules. No dogs over twenty pounds…period. And that wolf weighs more than I do. Now go get him. I can’t sit in my car any longer.” Nick looked at his front porch. Could it be Harley? How would he have gotten out? But there was no sign of a wolf or any other dog outside his house. He looked back at her. “Nice talking with you.” “Listen, I have the votes, and you will pay the fines, starting today.” “Look, lady, Google laws about service dogs and get back to me.” No one other than the

people he worked with knew he worked for the DEA, and he preferred to keep it a secret. But his service in the military was common knowledge, so he could definitely pass Harley off as a PTSD service dog. If she pushed it, he could come up with some official paperwork in ten minutes. “He attacked me!” “What were you doing in my unit?” “I…uh…I was just making sure your front door was secure. We’ve had a couple burglaries lately, you know. Why did you leave him outside?” “You’re nuts. He was locked up in my townhouse all day. I’m going to have my place dusted for your fingerprints.” “Fuck you, Archer. Don’t mess with me….Just go get your damn wolf and take him back to the dog pound, or I’ll call animal control to come out and shoot him.” She slammed her car into reverse and squealed the tires all the way to the driveway next door. That kind of explained why he’d gotten the townhouse so cheap. Two bedrooms, one bath, one-car garage, and psycho neighbor from hell. He inspected the rear of his truck but found no damage. Lucky for her, because he was feeling particularly litigious. Nick rubbed the back of his neck, wondering what that lunatic was talking about, as he approached the front door. Suddenly Harley jumped out, his hair bristling and his teeth shining white as he defended the narrow walkway between the hedges. He recognized Nick, and his demeanor changed in a flash. His ears dropped, and his tail unglued from under his belly and began wagging violently. Harley’s whole body was wiggling in joy that his man had come home…at last. He flew at Nick, and it was all Nick could do to brace himself to keep from being knocked on his ass. Nick grabbed Harley around his shoulders and wrestled him until Harley overpowered Nick and succeeded in pushing him to the ground. For Harley, it was all a big game with his man. He loved play fighting, and there was no limit to his energy as Nick tried to get to his feet. “How the fuck did you get outside, Harley?” Harley’s expression was pure innocence. Nick unlocked the door and opened it cautiously, not knowing what destruction or unpleasant gifts he was going to find. The living room was undisturbed. He checked out the bedrooms, and all was exactly as he had left it. Harley padded along behind, his tongue lolling out of his mouth in a happy smile now that his person was home. Nick was heading toward the kitchen when his phone rang. “Archer,” he barked into the receiver. “What happened?” He instantly recognized Jamie’s voice, which was filled with concern. “I wish I knew,” he told her, his tone softening. “My crazy neighbor rammed me in the rear.” There was a long pause. “That sounds…uh…painful.” “My truck. She ran into the back of my truck.” “You were parked?” “Outside my house. Then she started yelling that Harley had bit her, and that he was running loose. She fucking hit my truck…on purpose!”

“Was he?” “Was he what?” “Running loose?” “Yes…he was. I was just checking inside.” He opened the dog gate that was supposed to have kept Harley in the kitchen. It was still standing, and the kitchen was messy, but that was because Nick hadn’t cleaned up after breakfast, not because of anything Harley had done. “The door to the back patio is wide open….Shit…there are flies everywhere.” “French doors?” “What?” Nick glanced toward the door. “Yeah…why?” “Lever door handle?” “Lever? Yeah, it’s not a knob.” “Does it automatically unlock when you open it from inside?” Nick walked to the open door and examined the door and handle. “Nick? You there?” He flipped the handle, checked the lock, and flipped it again. “Yeah, it unlocks. He pulled down the lever, opened the door, and let himself out.” “My guess is he got bored and went to find you. I warned you about that. Harley has a special talent with latches of all sorts. He was on your front porch, wasn’t he?” “Yes, he was. How did you know that? And how did he figure out which front porch was mine?” “I’m going to pretend you didn’t ask me that.” “Smart dog.” Nick was just beginning to appreciate his dog’s special skills. “Shepherds are problem solvers.” “Now my problem is how to keep him inside my house while I’m at class.” “Class?” Nick chuckled. “As of today, I’m a UT student. One class…for the case I’m on right now.” “Sounds like you’re going to be too busy for a booster training session.” She sounded disappointed. Nick returned to the living room and settled down in his favorite chair. “You think a booster session would help?” “I do. I mean, you’ve clearly forgotten his talents.” Nick realized just hearing her voice in his ear was turning him on. “Darlin’, I didn’t forget your talents.” There was dead silence on the other end of the line. For a moment, Nick thought she had hung up. “Jamie?” “I’m still here,” she answered. “What are you doing Saturday night?” Nick groaned. Damn, he knew this job was going to ruin his love life. “Would you believe I’m going to a drug party?” “DEA agent going to a drug party…Hmm…Sounds reasonable. Let me ask, is she cute?”

“I didn’t say anything about a she.” “Is she?” “Yeah, she’s cute. Her name is Sam, and she’s in my class. We smoked loosies on Bane’s front porch today.” “Fine…so, don’t tell me, then.” Nick was exasperated. Here he was being totally honest, and she didn’t believe him. “Honest to God, it’s the truth.” “So not Saturday.” “Saturday’s out. But I…Harley and I…can come out Friday or Sunday…or both…for a refresher course.” “Let’s start with Friday. We’ll wait and see if you need more on Sunday.” Nick didn’t know her well enough to tell if she was flirting with double entendres or if she truly meant training Harley. He and his penis hoped it was the former, but he didn’t want to ruin his chances by presuming too much too soon. “Food first?” “You’ll need it.” Definitely the former! His penis would have applauded if it had hands. If only Friday weren’t three days away. “Sounds like a plan,” he confirmed, trying to sound cool. Come on, Nick, act like this isn’t your first rodeo, he chided himself. “Bye.” Her phone clicked off. Nick idly stroked Harley’s head. “Good boy, Harley. Want to go see Jamie?” Harley’s ears perked up and his tail wagged. He looked around as if he expected to see her enter the room. “Yeah, I agree. If I had a tail, it would be wagging too.” — The concrete hummed under the tires as Nick headed west on Highway 290 toward Dripping Springs. He knew he was early, but he couldn’t keep from pushing the speed limit to its max and beyond. He didn’t want to seem overeager, but he simply couldn’t wait any longer to be with Jamie. Wednesday and Thursday he had been immersed in his assignment, going to class, watching the required movies and television shows, then sitting on Bane’s porch for hours every evening, talking about camera angles, cuts and fades, plots and subplots, and every word of dialogue until he thought he was going to take his gun out and shoot the next person who mentioned bad lighting. And the shittiest part was that he was no closer to having a name or getting an introduction to their dealer than he had been on Tuesday. He’d admitted as much to Bobbi at their meeting earlier today, and she wasn’t happy. But she understood that information gathering couldn’t be rushed. He told her he was hopeful something would come from the party on Saturday night. Luckily, she hadn’t asked about his plans for tonight. He wasn’t sure he could have convinced her that it was all about Harley. Bobbi hadn’t earned her position as head of the department by being gullible or unobservant. She would have seen through his story in a heartbeat.

He definitely didn’t want the world to know that he was going to be Jamie’s sex toy. Not that he minded, actually, being at her beck and call. It was kind of fun in a kinky sort of way. He certainly got as much out of it as he gave. He just didn’t want it broadcast because it could damage her reputation. He didn’t give a flying fuck about his own, but he would kill anyone who hurt her. “We’re almost there,” he said to Harley, who sat in the backseat but rested his head on the back of the passenger seat. Harley’s tail thumped against the leather upholstery as if he knew they were getting close to Jamie’s farm. Maybe he did. Nick was growing to appreciate the dog’s intuition and intelligence more every day. Nick backed into his usual spot, noting that all the other vehicles were gone except for the red SUV he knew was Jamie’s and the old pickup truck that had been fitted with hand controls for Jared. That was a good sign. As horny as he was, the last thing he wanted was to sit around and chat with strangers. He and Harley walked up the front steps of Jamie’s house, and the sound of her singing flowed through the screen door and got caught in the breeze. Harley stood patiently, but the increased speed of his tail and his eager eyes revealed how happy he was to be back here. Nick stood on the porch for a moment, surprised by how excited he was…and it wasn’t just a sexual thing. He’d been looking forward to spending more time with Jamie for the past week. He wanted to hear her laugh and see the twinkle in her eyes when she looked at him. He wanted to smell her skin and feel the silkiness of her hair tickling his cheek. Oh hell…and the sex was incredible. “I would turn my chair for that voice, sight unseen,” Nick called out, referring to the gimmick on The Voice, which was one of the TV shows the kids had talked about. Jamie screamed and he heard a dish hit the floor and shatter, followed by the sound of her bare feet on the wooden floor as she came to the door. “You scared the shit out of me! How long have you been standing out there?” “Long enough. I didn’t know you could sing like that.” Her cheeks flushed a pretty shade of pink. “Usually only the dogs hear me sing.” She threw the door open, dropped to her knees, and hugged Harley. “How you doing, big guy?” Harley pushed up against her. He wasn’t normally a licker, but he did give her a big, sloppy, doggy kiss across her cheek. “He’s really glad to see you.” So am I, Nick added to himself. There would be time enough later for him to show her. Jamie stood up and brushed Harley hair off her short, lightweight dress. “You should comb him every day, Nick.” “We’re dudes,” Nick scoffed. “We aren’t metrosexuals with every hair in place.” “Shepherds are year-round shedders. If you don’t keep on top of it, your house will be disgusting.” She reached up and lightly combed her fingers through Nick’s hair. “You look good tousled.” He gritted his teeth and forced a smile. “Unless you want to get right to the dessert, we’d better get out of here.” “Yeah. Just let me check on Jared.” She disappeared back into the house.

Conversation drifted out to the porch. Nick didn’t intentionally eavesdrop, but as the volume increased, it was impossible to ignore. He withdrew to the edge and sat down on the top step with Harley joining him. “It’s none of your business, Jared.” Jamie’s raised voice carried outside. “It is my business. I’m your big brother and protecting you is my job,” Jared yelled back. “The last thing you need is another damn cop.” “I don’t need yours or anyone else’s protection, and Nick isn’t a real cop…and…it doesn’t matter. I’m twenty-eight years old. I can make my own decisions, and I can have friends without your approval, so just back off.” Nick was facing away from the house when the screen door banged against the old wood siding. “Let’s go,” she demanded as she breezed past and headed down the steps toward Nick’s truck. She jerked the passenger-side door open and climbed in. Nick opened the back door and gave Harley the load command. The dog jumped in and sat, but his tan eyebrows furrowed as he sensed that his woman was upset. Nick got in and started the engine. But he didn’t shift it out of park. “Listen, if this is a problem, we can go another time. It’s all right…really.” He turned and looked at her, waiting for a response. Jamie stared straight ahead, as if she hadn’t heard Nick. After a moment, he dropped the car into drive and began to move forward. “Wait.” Jamie reached out and covered his hand on the gearshift knob. Nick pushed it back into park and shut the engine off before turning his full attention to her. “I’m sorry you had to hear that,” Jamie said, her voice shaking. “I’m sorry I put you in that position.” “You didn’t. I did. Ever since he got home after Mike died, it’s like he found a new mission in life: me. He’s never given up on being my big brother. It’s what drove him through recovery and therapy. He double-checks every invoice, every bill, and even every person I have contact with…like you just witnessed.” “Maybe I could talk to him or something?” “Why would you want to do that? Jared knows I’m not going to get married again, and yet he jumps all over my guy friends if I so much as go to dinner or even lunch.” “It’s good he doesn’t know about the other night,” Nick said straight-out. Honestly, his emotions were a little conflicted. On one hand, he didn’t want to cause a fissure in Jamie and Jared’s relationship. But being a closet stud was exciting, at least for the moment. No strings, no promises. “That’s none of his business, for sure. I’m a healthy woman, and I have healthy needs. I’m responsible for getting them fulfilled…and right now my pressing need is to get some food. Drive on, please!” As usual on a Friday evening, the Broken Spoke parking was overflowing into the dentistoffice lot next door.

“I called ahead and told them we needed a place to protect Harley’s tail,” Jamie said as they weaved their way through the pickup trucks in the parking lot, trying to find a spot. “Harley thanks you.” Nick glanced in his rearview mirror at the dog, who was looking around with interest. Nick finally found a space at the end of the row. As they walked under the Broken Spoke sign, he looked up at the name of the band that was playing tonight. “Are they any good?” “Thompson’s Back Porch? Yeah…contemporary country. With the right break, their female lead singer could be another Taylor Swift.” “When’s their first set?” Jamie looked at Nick, then walked to the door before answering. “Usually the bands start at nine.” “That’s really late,” Nick commented casually. “Harley needs all the training time he can get.” Jamie nodded. “Training is important.” Her response was just what he wanted to hear, and yet it was so low-key, he still wasn’t sure if she was referring to sex, as he had been, or if she was actually talking about Harley’s training. Crap, if she was, then this evening was going to be a lot less exciting than he had planned. Once inside, they were seated at a table for two in a corner so Harley would be out of the aisle. He lay down between Nick and Jamie so he could keep an eye on both of them, a detail that didn’t go unnoticed by Nick. Usually Harley was 100 percent focused on Nick, but the dog clearly had lingering affection for Jamie. “Hey, guys, I’m Jackie. I’ll be your server tonight. Can I get you something to drink to get started?” The server was a twentysomething college student wearing a Longhorn T-shirt, two sizes too small, tied in a knot under her ample breasts. She gave Nick a sultry look. Another place…another time, and he might have been tempted to check it out. But tonight he, like Harley, was interested in only one woman. “I’d like a draft…whatever’s easiest.” Nick gave his order to the server. “And for you, ma’am?” “That sounds good.” “I’ll be right back.” Jamie smiled. “Living dangerously, huh?” “How’s that?” “Letting the server pick your beer.” Nick laughed. “I don’t like surprises in my job. But off duty, why not relax and go with the flow? Never know what cool thing you might discover.” “Hmm…from now on, I’ll let the servers pick. It may seem like it’s not a big deal, but I’m a control freak.” “You’re a my-way-or-the-highway kind of gal?” “I guess you could say that. Most of my clients are men, so I have to be tough.” “Were you like that with Mike?”

The smile evaporated from Jamie’s face. “Here you guys go…two server’s choice.” “And what did our server choose?” Jamie asked as she gave Sandy her undivided attention. “Shiner Bock drafts and a bowl of tap water for the dog.” “Great…a Texas beer,” Nick commented. “You ready to order?” Sandy asked. “Give us a few minutes,” he said. “Take your time. I’ll be back.” Jamie drank a sizable portion of her beer, and Nick put some effort into keeping pace. Finally she put her empty glass down and leveled a sober stare at him. “My way or the highway? How long were you married?” Not the direction he’d had in mind when he started this conversion. The last thing he wanted to talk about was his marriage. “Ten years…Why?” “Then you know about give-and-take.” “Not if you listen to my ex. She said I was all take.” Nick shrugged. “She was probably right. I was pretty intense back then.” “Gee…you, intense? Imagine that,” Jamie teased, then got serious again. “Mike was the most generous person I’ve ever met. Even when he got his way, he could make me feel like I won.” Nick took another drink of beer. “Mine was a little different. Whenever I won, she had a way of making me feel like a loser…and that’s when things were still good.” He finished off his beer. “Mike sounds like a great guy. Must have been a big loss.” “It changed me forever. I know there’s no one like Mike out there, so why look? It’s all about the here and now, nothing permanent, you know? The lesson I learned is that love is not forever.” “You sound like a guy.” Nick smiled. “Yeah, I guess I do. Hadn’t thought about it like that. But if guys can enjoy sex without letting their heart get involved, then so can I.” Nick couldn’t think of a reason to contradict her. Men had been doing it for years…Nick included. Since his disastrous marriage, he had sworn off love. It was easier to take his pleasure, then walk away. He looked up and saw Sandy heading their way. “Uh-oh.” He grabbed a menu and opened it. “What’s a good choice for dinner?” “Their steaks are excellent. That’s what I’m going to get.” “You guys ready to order?” Sandy asked, looking first as Nick but then forcing her attention to Jamie. “I’ll take the rib eye, rare, with the baked potato and a Caesar salad, dressing on the side,” she ordered without opening a menu. “And you?” Sandy asked Nick, leaning forward to flash a generous view of her cleavage. “Same, but no salad.” “Cool. Another round?” They nodded.

“So your marriage lasted ten years? That’s a long time.” Nick snorted. “About eight years too long.” “Sounds a little bitter….Was it?” “That was six years ago, and I’ve tried to let it go. I went deep for nine months once, and it was like a first date the day I came back.” “Undercover?” “Yeah. Then a couple more assignments took me away for a year at a time. She made some new friends while I was away, and I picked up some bad habits. It never headed in a healthy direction after that.” “Rough divorce?” He didn’t mention that he’d come home unexpectedly when she was six months pregnant to find her on her knees, giving some dude a blow job. The image was burned permanently on his brain. It was the ultimate betrayal, and after he’d thrown his La-Z-Boy recliner out the patio door of their second-floor apartment, he’d gone back to throw the guy after it. But the guy had had the good sense to pull up his pants and escape out the front door. Fuck…that had been Nick’s favorite chair, but after he’d seen the dude’s naked ass on the leather, he couldn’t stand having it in his sight. Instead he said, “It was a bad time. She owned a successful commercial cleaning business, so she made more than I did. I wanted no part of it, and I couldn’t go for sole custody, so we ended it quickly. I just wanted out. Fuck, it took longer to get the marriage license than the divorce decree.” “Do you still go undercover?” “Not like that. There’s enough activity in this area to keep me busy. Right now I’m trying to find the source of those loosies that are killing kids. But I go home every night.” “And walk Harley,” she prompted. Harley lifted his head when he heard his name, and Nick reached down and scratched the dog’s ears. “Yeah. Harley’s been a good add. I’ve gotten used to having him around,” Nick admitted. “They can be a real comfort.” “What kind of dog do you have?” Nick asked. “I mean, one that’s all yours and not a service dog being trained for someone else.” Jamie moved her glass of beer in circles, leaving wet rings on the table, before answering. “Mike and I had a beautiful Australian shepherd named Bingo. He would run through the barns and outside pens and herd the other dogs into small groups just for fun. He was more Mike’s dog than mine. Mike played catch with him, and they would go for walks in the woods.” She paused and took a drink. Nick noticed her hands were shaking. When she put her glass down, he enveloped her much-smaller hand in his. She smiled up at him in appreciation before continuing. “When I came home from Mike’s funeral, Bingo wouldn’t leave my side. For weeks, he’d walk next to me everywhere I went and even lie next to me on the floor by the couch. He was so sure that Mike was coming home that he would jump up every time someone came into the house. Bingo died within six months of Mike…and I believe it was because his heart was broken. He was only six years old.”

Two weeks ago, owning a dog or having dinner with a woman who raised dogs had not been on Nick’s radar. Now her story about her dead husband’s dog who died of grief made him profoundly sad. No one had ever loved him like that…woman or beast. If he died tomorrow, no one would grieve his loss. He glanced down at Harley, who looked at him with alert eyes. Well, Harley might grieve a little, his boys would miss him every Sunday, and Grammy would be upset. For the first time in his life, Nick wished he had someone who loved him as much as Jamie loved Mike. The discussion weighed heavily on Nick’s mind as he watched Jamie dig into her salad. He was unable to tell if she was hungry or keeping her mouth full to avoid further personal conversation. The steaks arrived, and they were as good as Jamie had promised. After they finished, Nick paid the bill, and they left before the band even got onstage to warm up. All the way back to Woof Gang, they made small talk, but Nick was afraid the mood was broken. He parked in his usual space, then shut off the engine and the lights. “Good, Jared’s in bed,” Jamie said as she exhaled heavily. “Can I ask you a question?” “I may not answer.” “Your option.” Nick stared at her in the semidarkness. “Your barn room…When did you build it?” She looked away. “I couldn’t stay in our bedroom after Mike died. I got some of Ralph’s friends to add on an office/bedroom in the kennel for me.” There was a long moment of silence. Nick was just about ready to give up any hope for the evening when Jamie opened her door and turned to him. “Coming in?” she asked. Nick was ridiculously pleased. “I thought you’d never ask.” They climbed out of the truck and let Harley run free in the yard to do his business. When he trotted back to them, Nick clipped the leash back on his collar. “Ready to get started?” She gave him a curious look and led the way into the main kennel building. They walked into the arena and she turned, waiting for a cue from Nick. This was the point where the evening could go either way. They could spend the next two hours working with Harley, refining his training and improving the quality of the man-anddog-team. Bobbi would definitely approve of that option. Or they could strip off all their clothes and forget about the rest of the world. For Nick it was a no-brainer. He dropped Harley’s leash and stepped forward until he was only inches in front of Jamie. Digging his fingers into her hair, he cradled her face and his mouth captured hers in a hungry kiss. Had it been only a week since he’d last held her in his arms? It felt like forever. Jamie didn’t hesitate but returned Nick’s kiss with a ferocity that assured him she approved of his decision. Her arms wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer. Her soft breasts smashed against his chest, and the bulge of his erection pressed into the softness of her body. Her tongue slipped inside his mouth and tangled with his. She moaned, and he felt it

vibrate all through him. When her hips started grinding against him, Nick’s knees nearly buckled. He didn’t want to take her on the dirt of the arena with the cacophony of dogs reacting to their cries of passion. Instead he swept her into his arms and carried her to her room. Harley followed them inside, and when Nick kicked the door shut, the dog curled up against the wooden barrier. He wasn’t sure what was going on with his people, but he was there to protect them from intruders. Nick set Jamie on her feet, and they quickly stripped off their clothes before tumbling onto the narrow bed, once again locked in an embrace. Their lovemaking was hot and frantic. With almost no foreplay, Nick plunged inside her, urged on by the wetness that welcomed him. The old bed creaked beneath them with every thrust. The iron headboard thumped against the wall in a tribal rhythm. With no one to hear them, neither Nick nor Jamie cared when their screams echoed through the small room as they reached simultaneous climaxes. For the first time ever, Nick wondered if a woman’s orgasm was as explosive and mindblowing as a man’s. While he was a considerate lover, he’d never really thought it a possibility that the woman was enjoying it as much as he was. But as he looked down at her beautiful face, which was still relaxed in a state of complete bliss, he knew without a doubt that their coupling had been every bit as satisfying for her as it had been for him. That was a staggering thought. She’d already made it clear that all she wanted from him was sex. But he hadn’t really believed her. All the women he’d been with had always wanted more. He didn’t know what it was about the female brain that seemed eternally programmed to believe in happily-everafter. He knew it only happened in fairy tales and romance novels, but women bought into the myth, hook, line, and sinker. Jamie was the exception. She knew fairy tales didn’t come true, and if they came close, they were sure to end badly. That should make their relationship a lot easier. As Nick lay next to her, his dick still inside her warmth and his arms around her, holding her close, he was overwhelmed by the realization that he didn’t want to let her go. Not just tonight, either. He could see hanging out with her for many years to come. In fact, the thought of her being intimate with anyone else reawakened a possessiveness he had thought was gone forever. Unconsciously he tightened his embrace, pulling her even closer. Jamie stirred and scooted backward, putting a little space between them. The bed was only a single, so she didn’t have far to go, but the slight gap was more of a symbolic separation than a physical one. Nick propped his head up on one elbow and studied her, trying to memorize every inch of her body. He wasn’t used to feeling so insecure in a relationship. As a bit of a control freak, it wasn’t in his nature to let someone else call the shots. He should take back his man card and just walk away. But he couldn’t. He didn’t know how many more hours or even minutes she would give him…and he wasn’t willing to relinquish even one of them. Her eyes were closed, but he couldn’t resist touching her. His fingertips skimmed over her skin, barely brushing it, following the curve of her neck down to her collarbone. Lightly his fingers trailed down the deep, sensual valley between her breasts before moving to one of her nipples. Barely brushing the pink tip, he circled it until she arched her back, encouraging

more attention to the swollen bud. He ignored her directive and applied the same gentle attention to her other nipple before stroking down the shallow ridge of her abdomen, tickling her navel and making slow, lazy circles around her stomach, which sucked in beneath his fingers. She reached down and grabbed his hand, trying to control his movements, but he continued on his trek, moving his fingers lower, teasing the lips of her femininity before caressing the tender nub between them. Jamie was writhing now, her head rolling from side to side. “Tell me you want me,” he whispered, his fingers still rubbing her. She sighed, a long, ragged rush of air. “I want you,” she breathed, her voice husky. “Tell me you need me.” Even if she didn’t mean it forever, he wanted to hear her say it. “Oh, yes…I need you. Now. Please.” The last word came out in a gasp. Two of his fingers slipped inside her and her juices flowed out, pushing him past his own point of resistance. He removed his fingers, replacing them with his throbbing erection. He had the satisfaction of being momentarily in total control, but now it was time to let his animal instincts take over. Nick buried himself inside of her, pausing long enough to savor the total pleasure of feeling her warmth wrapped around him. He pulled out just far enough so he could kiss her lips, doubling the delight of tasting her at the same time his dick was in her most intimate center. She kissed him back, slowly, sensuously, her tongue moving in and out of his mouth, fucking it as thoroughly as he was fucking her below. “Oh shit!” he exclaimed as the rush of passion made him get down to business more quickly than he would have liked. He pushed all the way in, then fell into the natural rhythm that pulled them both into the whirlpool of sensations ending in a blast of fireworks so intense that for almost a minute he didn’t breathe. He had barely been able to wait until Jamie had climaxed before he lost touch with time and space. They floated back to earth together, both too exhausted to move away. With her head resting on his shoulder, they lay on their sides, facing each other, their legs still laced together, and fell asleep in each other’s arms.

Chapter 9 The theme from The Walking Dead woke Nick. Completely disoriented, he lifted his head and looked around. Oh, right…he was in Jamie’s kennel apartment, and they had had the world’s best sex. He glanced at the nightstand, but his phone wasn’t there. Blessedly, it stopped ringing, and Nick lowered his head back to the silken pillow of Jamie’s hair. His hand was cupping one of her breasts, and his morning erection was pressed against her leg. He couldn’t think of a single reason he wanted to move from this spot. Overhead, the ceiling fan hummed. Early-morning light poured in the window around the small air-conditioning unit that struggled to cool the already-hot Texas day. He was just about to doze off when his phone started playing the familiar TV show theme again. Damn! Whoever was calling must be determined to reach him. He eased his arm out from under Jamie’s head and crawled out of bed far enough so he could reach his jeans, which had been discarded on the floor. He pulled his phone out of one of the pockets and swiped the screen to answer it. “Archer. This had better be good.” “Where have you been?” “What? Who is this? Bobbi?” “Another kid died last night. We’ve got an interview set for ten in the box.” “Attorneys?” “Of course.” “Shit. I’ll be there.” Nick sat on the edge of the bed, his head hanging down. “Duty calls?” Jamie asked, stirring behind him. She didn’t seem surprised. “Yeah, I’ve got to go in.” “Of course you do.” He twisted around so he could look at her. “You know I’d rather stay.” “I’ve heard that before.” She pulled the sheet up to cover her nakedness, effectively creating a barrier between them. “I can come back afterward,” he offered, wanting desperately to recapture the magic of the night. Jamie shook her head. “No, it’s better if you don’t. Jared and I have our veterans’ class today, and I need to work with the dogs.” He wouldn’t beg. He wanted to, but that was definitely not part of his personality. “I had a great time last night.” “So did I.” Harley stood and stretched. “You’d better hurry,” Jamie added. “Harley needs to go out, and I’m sure your boss is watching the clock.”

She left him no option. He pulled on his clothes and shoes, then leaned over and kissed her. He was a little surprised that, considering the mood she was in, she kissed him back, tenderly and deeply. When he straightened, he thought he saw a tear on her cheek, but she turned her head away, so he couldn’t be sure. “Let’s go, Harley,” he said, not bothering to pick up the leash that was still attached to the dog’s collar. “Bye, Jamie. I’ll call you.” She didn’t answer as he left the room. — Harley walked next to Nick’s left leg as they turned the corner to the monitor room at the DEA regional office. Bobbi was waiting at the door, her face reflecting the fatigue and stress of this latest death. “What’s up?” Nick asked. “Another student died. We’ve got two kids in the box….One brought his lawyer. How’s Harley’s training going?” Nick weighed his answer. They hadn’t exactly gotten around to the dog’s training, but Bobbi didn’t need to know that. “He’s ready to go.” Nick opened the door to the observation area and held it open for Bobbi. They each sat in a chair in front of the two-way mirror that allowed a clear view into the interrogation room. There was a table in the middle with three chairs facing the two-way mirror and two on the opposite side. A speaker was suspended by a post from the ceiling, and cameras were mounted in every corner. On the table was a control box with a microphone. “Who’s asking the questions?” Nick pointed to the floor at his feet, and Harley obediently lay down. “Karla and Adrian,” Bobbi answered. “I brought them up to speed with your investigation.” Nick nodded his approval, then turned the volume on the speakers up as the door opened. A male student entered the interrogation room, followed by a man in a suit, carrying a legal pad. Karla and Adrian came in last and shut the door firmly behind them. “Sit down,” Adrian said, and they all did. “Please be advised that this session is being recorded and, if you cooperate, you will be eligible, at the judge’s discretion, for immunity from prosecution concerning the apparent drug-induced death of Jessica Turner, age twenty, a student at UT,” Karla stated. Nick grabbed the box and hit the red button. Karla glanced at them through the two-way mirror, her eyebrows raised. It was unusual to stop the interview before the first question had even been asked. Nick pulled the microphone toward him and switched it on. “Does he know a student named Bane?” Karla gave him a “shut up” glare, then turned back to face the student. “Sorry for the interruption. Please state your name.” The student answered. “Jason Carey.” “And for the record, Jason’s attorney, Dan Morgan, is also in attendance,” Karla continued. “Jason, do you know the student Jessica Turner, who was rushed to the emergency room last night and was subsequently pronounced dead?”

“I do.” “Do you know what drug or drugs Jessica had taken last night?” The attorney shifted in his chair but didn’t object. “We were all sitting around smoking some loosies.” “Do you know where those loosies were purchased?” This time Dan did voice an objection. “Jason has no personal knowledge of where the loosies were obtained.” “Dan, listen,” Adrian said. “We’re giving Jason a get-out-of-jail-free card, all right? All we want to know is where these bad drugs are coming from so we can prevent another kid from dying. We’re not implying that Jason is selling, and we don’t give a shit whether or not he’s using the product…as long as he understands the great risk he’s taking with his life. Okay?” Dan considered the situation before nodding for Jason to answer the question. “Not exactly. There were five of us, and we all shared our stash. I know some of them were buying from this guy downtown on Sixth Street.” “Was there a student named Bane with you last night?” Karla finally asked. “Bane? Yeah, he and Jess were together…sort of. Why?” “No reason…Just trying to connect the dots.” Adrian took over the questioning. “This dealer on Sixth…Have you ever seen him?” “No.” “Have you heard his name from Jessica or Bane or maybe another one of your friends?” Jason sat there and thought about it for a moment. “Not that I recall. There’s so many guys that sell this shit, you know?” Nick triggered the microphone again. “Ask him what flavor Jessica was using.” “Jason. Do you know what flavor Jessica was smoking?” Karla asked. Jason’s eyes filled with tears as he thought about the dead girl. “Jess loved strawberry. She always traded with everyone so she could stay with strawberry all the time.” Adrian followed up. “Does the guy on Sixth Street sell the strawberry-flavored loosies?” Jason shrugged. “Man, I don’t know. I don’t usually have the scratch to buy my own, so I bum off everyone else.” “Anything else you can add that would help us…anything?” Karla asked. Jason frowned as if concentration was an effort. “Don’t think so.” “I think my client has told you everything he knows,” Dan said. “Are we free to leave?” Karla and Adrian glanced back at the window, and when no one spoke up, Adrian said, “We’re through for now. Please let us know if you plan to leave the area.” “If Jason comes up with anything, I’ll call you. Here’s my card,” Dan said as he stood up. Jason followed his lead, and they exited. A minute later Bobbi and Nick entered the box. Karla turned the microphone off to prevent anyone outside the room from hearing their discussion. “What the fuck, Nick?” Karla exclaimed. “I hadn’t even started and you gigged me?” “Tuesday after class I was at a porch party at Bane’s house with a girl named Jess…Jessica,

the dead girl.” “Fuck, dude, that’s heavy,” Adrian commented. “Looks like we move this downtown, then,” Bobbi said. “We should split up,” Nick suggested. “I’ve been in all the bars in the area.” “I’m sure you have,” Bobbi commented drily. “As soon as we finish interviewing the next kid, we’ll go to the conference room and divvy up the real estate on the map. Nick, you stick with the college. Sounds like you just missed this one, but sooner or later someone will drop a name, or you’ll stumble on something.” If Nick hadn’t known that Bobbi liked him, he would have taken that as a slam. — Nick called Jamie as he was driving home later that afternoon. The meeting with the team had taken much longer than expected, but hopefully Jamie would understand. Her phone rang once, twice, three times, then went to voicemail. “Hi, Jamie. We just got out of our meeting, and I’m heading home to catch a nap before the party tonight. I probably won’t stay past midnight. If you want, we could drop by after that.” The beep cut him off. He thought about calling back and leaving a message about what a great time he’d had last night, but he decided against it. The last thing he wanted was to seem too needy. He had a feeling she wouldn’t put up with a wimpy man. He took Harley for a quick walk in the park. Gail was out in her yard deadheading her roses when he passed. He gave her a polite wave, but she ignored him even though she had obviously seen him. Oh well, a day without hearing her shrill voice was a good day, as far as he was concerned. After a long, hot shower, he checked his phone to see if he’d missed Jamie’s call, but there was only a message from Grammy asking him to pick up some beer on his way to her place tomorrow. He plopped down on his overstuffed leather recliner, leaned back until the footrest popped up, and turned on the TV. He flipped through the channels until he found a Texas Rangers game, a sport that was guaranteed to induce sleep. Harley stretched out on the floor and started snoring. But even though he was exhausted, Nick didn’t fall asleep immediately. He couldn’t get Jamie’s expression off his mind. She had seemed disappointed, and then there was that tear. What was that all about? Tears always confused him. Women cried when they were sad…or happy…or angry…or frustrated…or when The Notebook came on cable. How was he supposed to be able to interpret these tears when they all looked the same? Jamie’s tear could have meant anything, but somehow he suspected it hadn’t been a tear of joy. It was dark when he woke up. He dressed in his oldest pair of jeans, a faded UT T-shirt, and flip-flops, then rumpled his hair like it hadn’t been combed in a couple of days. He hadn’t shaved since yesterday morning, so a fashionable scruff covered his square jaw, ensuring he would blend in with the rest of the minimally groomed students. When he got to Bane’s, the atmosphere was gloomy and sad. Most of the students stopped by just long enough to say nice things about Jess and smoke a loosie or a joint, then left to

find another, more upbeat party. No one wanted to be reminded of their own mortality, and seeing the empty chair next to Bane was a big downer. Nick tried to root out information about where the fatal loosie had come from, but no one was feeling chatty. The party broke up completely around eleven, so Nick was back home by midnight. He’d checked his phone every half hour, but still there was no missed call or message from Jamie. He finally broke down and called her again, but this time it went straight to voicemail. He didn’t bother leaving a message. He refused to accept the obvious. She wouldn’t shut him out completely, would she? Had she not enjoyed their time together as much as he had? She’d probably been busy with the vet group and working with the dogs, as well as the regular chores. Maybe she was tired and had gone to bed early. Yes, that had to be it. They hadn’t slept much last night, he remembered with a satisfied smile. Nick refused to consider the possibility that she was out with someone else. In spite of their sexual activities, he knew Jamie wasn’t that kind of girl. What they had was special. Wasn’t it? — The phone rang again. Jamie glanced at the screen, and when she saw it was Nick, she hit the IGNORE button and sent the call to voicemail. She knew that sooner or later she would have to talk to him, but that would mean it was over. It had to be that way. She had known all along that there was absolutely no future in any sort of relationship with him. He didn’t strike her as the type of guy who had many female friends. Besides, she wouldn’t want to be around him because she would never be able to look at him and not think about how it felt to be held in his arms or devoured by his kisses. But the good news was that every day she would think about him less. Soon she wouldn’t miss him at all. And if, or, more likely, when something bad happened to him, she wouldn’t be around to care. A tear trickled down her cheek and dropped onto the screen of her phone. God, please don’t let me care. It hurt too much.

Chapter 10 “What did you do to chase her off?” was the first question Grammy asked when he and the boys arrived at her house on Sunday. “I told you we weren’t dating.” Nick was feeling a little defensive after fielding almost the same question from his sons. The fact that she still hadn’t returned his calls was also adding to his grumpy mood. “She’s Harley’s trainer….That’s all.” “Too bad. I liked her.” Grammy had a bowl of potatoes on her lap, and she peeled as she talked. Brad and Brent were busy making roads and hills in the dirt under the big oak tree for an epic Matchbox off-road rally. It was difficult to grow grass in that spot because of the deep shade, which made it perfect for everything from a racetrack to a ranch to a prehistoric world. Three generations of male Archers had played in that dirt, building anything they could imagine with twigs and stones. Buried in the dirt and under layers of leaves in the nooks and crannies of the gnarly oak roots, the young boys had even discovered some old, rusted Matchbox cars that had once belonged to their dad and uncles. Luke was still tied up in DC, and Justin arrived late, all excited about a big gang arrest he’d made the week before. Nick was glad his brother had lots to talk about, because Nick had nothing. He would have finished off the entire twelve-pack of beer if he hadn’t had his kids with him and known he had to drive them home. Instead he nursed a single can of beer before dinner and another during the meal. He cut the day short, leaving soon after he and Justin helped Grammy clean up. To make up for the abbreviated visit, he stopped at a Dairy Queen and bought his boys ice cream cones and shared a dish of vanilla with Harley. After he dropped them off at their mother’s house, he stopped at his place to change clothes, then headed downtown. Not much happened in the drug trade before late afternoon, so going out too early would have been a waste of time. It was after nine p.m. when he and Harley finally hit the streets. It was unusual to see drugs in plain sight in the more touristy areas of downtown, but the dealers were there. Usually they hid out in the alleys or in the bars, ready to make a deal if one of their runners sent them a text. If someone was looking for drugs, they were easy to find. Nick locked the truck after getting Harley out. Dressed in the same tattered jeans, a Nine Inch Nails T-shirt, and an old Cowboys ball cap, he snapped a multicolored macramé leash to the dog’s collar. He had ear buds in, hooked to a walkie-talkie with the volume controlled by a thumb wheel on the line to his right ear. It was a look designed to de-cop the pair as they worked their way through the crowds of students, locals, and tourists. Nick got plenty of smiles from passing girls, and some stopped and struck up a conversation. He knew he wasn’t Bradley Cooper in the looks department, but he’d never had trouble attracting women. Apparently Harley added several layers of hotness, an advantage Nick wished he’d had earlier in his life, when he was a little more wild and crazy.

“Hey,” a petite and very pretty redhead said as she smiled at Nick. “What’s his name?” Nick stopped and tightened the leash. “Harley.” “Like the bike?” “Yeah, like the bike.” She knelt down, petted Harley on the head, and scratched his neck vigorously. He leaned into the attention, and Nick was surprised at how easily his dog could be befriended. “Hey, Harley, you like this?” she continued. She was in the appropriate age group, so Nick decided to go fishing. “You live on campus?” “Me?” She acted insulted. “I did my time. I live in a sorority house…president, actually.” She continued to pet Harley and crooned soft words to the dog that Nick could not hear. Like water in a stream with a rock in the middle, people on the crowded sidewalk had to split to go around them, then rejoin their group on the other side. “Cool…Of course you are.” “Why did you say that?” she asked. “You’re hot and confident and easy to talk to, so I figured you were in charge.” She stood up. “I’m Emily.” “Nick…Nice to meet you, Emily.” “Expensive dog. You live around here?” she asked, tilting her head to look up at him. “Couple of streets over. I like to take Harley out for a long walk every day…to tire him out. He’s cooped up a lot while I’m in class. How do you know he’s expensive?” “My uncle owns a kennel, and he boards a lot of dogs. I can tell when one is a purebred. I help out every summer for spending money during the school year. It’s a job, but I love dogs.” “You don’t look like you need money….I bet your parents insist you work…to get life experience, right?” Emily laughed. “You know my parents?” “No.” Nick chuckled. “When I went to UT before I joined the Marines, I had to work my way through.” “Want to grab a drink?” Emily stood and wiped her hands on her khaki shorts. “Sure…where?” “How about the Jackalope?” she asked. “Cool.” “Can your dog go in there?” “Yeah, I tell everyone he’s my service dog. Who’s going to argue?” Nick and Emily walked the half block to the Jackalope and grabbed a table near the back on the right side. A server stopped and smiled at Nick. “Don’t I know you?” “Maybe. I come here a couple times a week,” Nick told her. He usually sat at the bar and Gina took care of him, so he never had much interaction with the servers. “Dogs aren’t allowed in here, unless they’re service dogs,” the waitress said.

“You got it,” Nick assured her. “Is he…is he friendly?” The server was definitely nervous around the dog. “He’s very well trained. Down, Harley,” Nick ordered, and the dog immediately obeyed. She didn’t seem totally convinced, so she kept the table between her and Harley. “What can I get you guys?” “Draft light beer for me,” Emily said. “Same.” “Be right back.” “You come here twice a week?” Emily tossed her long hair over her shoulder, openly flirting with Nick. “Yeah, they have good food, and it’s convenient. But it gets really crowded with tourists this time of year, and I don’t dig that. I’m more low-key, you know?” Emily smiled. “Yeah. I’m kind of on my own tonight. My boyfriend is all pissed at me for partying the other night, so I told him to go fuck himself. It was just my sisters. We did some drugs and stuff…nothing heavy, you know. There were no guys there.” “Sounds like he’s insecure.” “Right. That’s exactly it…insecure. He’s a third-year vet student, and they’re very straight. He won’t touch a joint or binge.” She slid Nick a meaningful look. “Sometimes he’s so boring.” The server dropped off the beers. “Are you going to eat?” “I’m good,” Nick said, then looked at Emily. “You?” “Nothing for me.” “Enjoy.” The server looked at Nick and added, “The bartender over there wants to talk with you.” She jerked her head toward the bar, where Gina stood, then moved on to the next table to take their order. “This will only take a minute.” Nick slid out, then stopped. He’d almost forgotten Harley. He couldn’t just leave him here with this stranger. Nick reached down, grabbed Harley’s undercover rope leash, and headed to the bar. “Hot date?” Gina laughed. “Or is it your daughter?” “Ha-ha. No, I’m working.” “Who’s that with you?” “This is Harley…my service dog to help with my PTSD.” Nick leaned on the bar. “You got a problem with that, darlin’?” Gina smiled. “That’s cool. But I meant the girl. She’s classier than your usual babes.” “Her name is Emily, and we’re just chatting.” Nick gave Gina a wink and turned, and he and Harley returned to the table. “She a friend of yours?” Emily asked. “Business acquaintance…She sells me beer.” Emily laughed. “What do you do for a living?” “I’m going back to school….GI Bill. TV and film studies.”

“Really? That sounds like fun. And the dog?” “He’s not doing so well. He has trouble taking notes and most movies except Disney bore him.” Emily laughed and took a drink of her beer. “Is Harley really a service dog?” “That’s my story, and I’m sticking to it.” Nick lifted his own glass to his lips. Emily nodded her acceptance of the explanation. Nick leaned forward. “Look, since you mentioned you party, I’m trying to score some loosies. My regular guy is out of town. Do you have a connection around here?” Emily glanced around, then studied Nick’s face intently before answering. “Yeah. A bunch of us use a guy named Leo.” “Leo? Where do I find him? It’s my turn to supply the party tomorrow night.” “You must be rich…giving away loosies.” Nick shrugged. “We all trade out, so it doesn’t hit any of us too hard….Know what I mean?” “Got it. Leo’s usually stocked up. He’s in the alleys around here, probably between Sixth and Seventh. Can’t miss him. He walks with a limp, is about five feet tall and skinny as a stick. Oh, and he always wears a stocking cap…no matter how hot it is.” Harley began to squirm at Nick’s feet, then sat up abruptly. “It’s okay, Harley.” Nick reached down and stroked the dog’s head. “Good boy.” “Maybe he needs to go…uh…pee?” “That could be.” Before Nick could stand, Harley jumped to his feet, his nose in the air and his ears perked. He was projecting all the signs of a drug alert, but Nick was confused. He hadn’t given him any scent cues or commands. A young bar-back, doing what he did twenty times a night in his job of assisting the bartenders, walked past their table carrying a large cardboard box of scraps on his shoulder. Red juice from whatever they had been cutting up at the bar was soaking through the bottom of the container and dripping on his shirt. The young man hadn’t gotten more than five feet away when Harley bolted out from under the table, lifting it up in the process and hurling their beers onto them and the floor. Unfortunately for the bar-back, Harley’s starting speed was far faster than Nick’s reaction time, and within two seconds the dog had jumped on top of the kid’s shoulders and ridden him to the floor like a cowboy bulldogs a steer. Nick leaped to his feet and lunged for the trailing leash. The cardboard box full of bar garbage sailed through the air another three feet before it crashed against the rear wall and dumped bits of fruit and other scraps all over the floor. The bar-back, in spite of being a skinny kid, bounced after it. “Shit!” the young man yelled as he flailed his arms wildly, trying to fend off Harley, but it was too late. His black Jackalope Tshirt was ripped in three places by Harley’s claws as he used the kid like a starting block at a track meet to get to the scattered garbage. “Harley!” Nick yelled as he scrambled past the kid on the floor, tapping him on his head to keep him down and out of the way. “Sorry. Harley!” But the dog paid no attention. By the time Nick reached him, Harley’s face was buried in the busted cardboard box. Nick grabbed the dog’s leash and yanked him back. Strawberry juice dripped from the dog’s muzzle. Strawberry leaves were stuck to his fur, which was

stained red. Even as Harley lowered his eyes, knowing he’d screwed up, he swallowed a last mouthful. “What the fuck, Harley!” “Looks like he’s crazy about strawberries.” Emily had caught up to the spill area. The bar-back finally scrambled to his feet after slipping several times on the bits of wet fruit on the floor. “Hey, man, you’re going to hear from my lawyer.” He headed back toward the bar, angrily pulling his tee over his head and exposing Harley’s claw marks on his shoulder blades. “Harley fucked him up pretty bad,” Emily said. “Thanks, I didn’t know,” Nick answered sarcastically. He was so totally pissed at his dog that he’d forgotten his mission to charm the girl. “Well, don’t get mad at me. He’s your dog….Forget it.” She stomped off and out the front door just as two Austin police officers pushed their way in. They threaded through the growing crowd until they reached Nick and Harley. “Is this your dog?” one of the officers asked. “Yeah, sort of.” “What happened here, sir?” Nick smiled sheepishly. “I don’t know.” He jerked Harley away from the strawberry pieces the dog was eyeing with longing. “Can we talk outside?” “That’s exactly what I was going to suggest,” the officer agreed. He led the way, with Nick and Harley close behind and the other officer following. Once outside, the officer indicated the patrol car and said, “Hands on the vehicle and spread your legs.” Nick did as he was told, but when the officer leaned close to pat him down, Nick whispered, “I’m Nick Archer, DEA. My badge is in my pocket, and I have a gun in my waistband. We’re looking for a loosie dealer, but my dog went nuts on those strawberries in there.” The cop found Nick’s gun and removed it. He then found Nick’s badge in his pocket. The cop knew better than to flash it around, but it clearly validated Nick’s story. He turned to the crowd on the sidewalk. “Nothing to see here, folks. Move along.” Then he motioned his partner to come closer. “Hey, Vinny, wasn’t Archer the name of the guy who arrested the congressman’s son?” The other officer laughed. “Shit, dude, this isn’t your month, is it?” Nick whispered, “Put me in the car and drive off, would you? I’ve got a reputation to protect.” “Fuck, I don’t think you have any reputation left.” Vinny slapped a pair of cuffs on Nick, opened the back door, and put his hand on Nick’s head to guide him into the backseat. Harley hopped in after his master, a little confused by the vehicle but always excited to go for a ride. Vinny slammed the door and got into the driver’s side while the other officer went to the opposite side. “I can’t wait to spread this around the station,” Vinny announced, both cops laughing loudly as they drove away. —

Nick opened the door of his townhouse and let Harley in first. “Backyard, Harley,” he said as he walked him quickly to the back door and into the small fenced-in yard area, which now had a combination lock on the hasp. Not only had Harley opened the latch on the back door to make his great escape, but he’d also lifted the hasp lock on the gate. “Bath time.” Nick grabbed an unopened bottle of dog shampoo and turned the hose on. He began to hose Harley down, which would have been a good plan except Harley didn’t like baths and began to run around the small space in circles far faster than Nick could spray him. Finally Nick stepped on the leash to stop the dog, then tied him to the barbecue pit. The battle was half won. Within a half hour Harley smelled like the vegetable section of a Whole Foods, and the red that had been on his paws and face was gone. Nick left him tied to the barbecue pit so Harley could dry off without shaking water all over the house. Nick too was soaking wet, so he stripped down and jumped into the shower. He welcomed the masculine scent of his woodsy soap. He’d had enough strawberry stench for one night. Nick dried off and pulled on a pair of jogging shorts before rescuing Harley from the backyard. The dog skulked into the house, thoroughly humiliated by the bath and his master’s disapproval. Nick grabbed a beer before returning to his bedroom and turning the TV on. He scooted up against the headboard and clicked through the channels until he found ESPN SportsCenter. He’d called Bobbi while he was in the patrol car and, without mentioning his fake arrest, he’d passed on the information Emily had given him. He knew he had drawn enough attention for one night, so she would have to send someone else to see if they could find the infamous Leo. So when his phone rang, he assumed it was her or one of the other agents. “Archer,” he said without checking the caller ID. “Good, you’re still up….How’s Harley?” “Harley, Harley, Harley…He’s fine!” Nick had perked up at the sound of Jamie’s voice, but her concern about Harley annoyed him. “Whoa…really?” “Yeah, sure…No, he’s a bad dog.” “What happened?” “What didn’t happen? He was with me on Sixth Street tonight, looking for that dealer, and I was at the Jackalope with some girl trying to parse out intel. The bar-back walked by with a box of bar garbage, and Harley jumped him.” “Jumped him? Is he all right?” “I guess….Some scratches on his back where Harley tried to climb over him.” “I meant Harley.” “Harley’s fine, just not very happy right now. And neither am I. Thanks for asking.” “Harley didn’t bite the guy, did he?” “No. All he wanted was the box of scraps, mostly strawberries. He was a fucking mess, juice dripping all over the floor and strawberry parts all the way up to his eyes.” “The guy?” “No, Harley. He buried his face in a pile of garbage. It was like a drug! It was so undignified.

Then the cops arrived, and…Wait a minute, how did you know something had happened?” Jamie laughed. “I have a scanner, and one of Mike’s friends thought I’d be interested because one of my dogs was involved.” “It’ll probably show up on YouTube tomorrow. There were lots of customers with phones recording the whole scene. Bobbi’s going to kill me.” The cops had circled the block, then let him off at his truck where it was parked in a lot on Seventh Street. He’d driven straight home from there. Jamie was silent for a moment, then she said, “Bring Harley to me.” “What can you do? What good is a drug dog that is addicted to strawberries? For all I know, he could have this issue with every fucking fruit on the planet. Oh, and did I mention that some of the loosies that are killing those kids are strawberry flavored?” “I’m going to have to break his habit. What time can you bring him by?” “I don’t have class on Mondays, so I could be out there around noon.” Nick’s heart skipped a beat in anticipation. Another training session! Maybe he should make it earlier. Then they’d have the whole day together. “Noon is good. See you then.” And the phone clicked off. Well, that was abrupt. But he didn’t care. Tomorrow he would get to spend time with Jamie…hopefully in that old iron bed. He plugged his phone into the charger and placed it on the nightstand. He was about to turn SportsCenter back on when he noticed Harley’s chin propped on the edge of the bed. The dog’s head didn’t move, but his eyes, with their almost-human eyebrows, focused toward the TV, then toward Nick, trying to work his way back into his master’s good graces. “You’re a troublemaker, Harley. You might have gotten us both fired, but at least we get to go see Jamie tomorrow.” He couldn’t resist rubbing the dog’s ears, thinking about what would be a treat for both of them. Nick’s phone lit up with a text message. He picked it up and smiled. It was from Jamie. Who was the girl? Nick shook his head. “Interesting, Harley…She wants to know who the girl was. Do we tell her? Will it make her crazy with jealousy?” Harley’s ears perked up. “Yeah, you’re right….She deserves a little tweak for not returning my calls this week.” Nick typed, Emily. U don’t know her. Met her on the street 2night. He hit the “send” button and smiled. He waited for several minutes, wondering what her response would be. When no answer came, he sighed. “Maybe I should have tried a different approach. What do you think, Harley?” Harley’s eyes shifted back to SportsCenter. “You’re right. We’re missing the scores.” He unmuted the sound. “Is that better, boy?” Nick’s cellphone lit up with another text from Jamie. Eagerly he picked it up and read it aloud. She just wanted to pet your puppy. Nick chuckled. She was petting my puppy when he blasted off after the strawberries. This time there was no response, and after several minutes he commented to Harley, “I think she was jealous. Good job, Harley.”

Harley’s tail thumped on the floor. All was right with the world.

Chapter 11 Nick’s truck almost knew its way to Jamie’s farm without his help. Unfortunately, there were no cell dead zones anywhere along the way. “I know Bobbi, it was a mess…but I think disaster is too big of a word. I had no idea Harley liked strawberries.” “You know who called me today? The Austin chief of police. He was laughing at you…at us.” Bobbi’s anger oozed through the phone line. “Get to the good stuff….Did they find Leo?” “Lucky for you, yes. We’re testing his stock, and we’ll know sometime today if it’s the bad shit. He apparently doesn’t have a lab, so if they’re the lethal ones, we’ll have to turn him.” “Need my help?” “Please, no. Get Harley trained or, better yet, get a different dog. Let me know when you’re on your way back. We all need to sit down and put a plan together.” The phone line went dead. That was the way Bobbi said goodbye. He looked down at Harley and petted his head. “We got Leo, Harley….Good job. Not that you had anything to do with it. You were pigging out on strawberries….Bad dog.” Nick shook his finger at Harley as if he were a child. Nick parked under the big oak tree and tried not to seem too eager as he walked up Jamie’s steps and knocked on the wood-framed screen door. “I’ll be right out,” she called. Nick’s foot tapped impatiently as he looked out at the horses grazing in the pasture closest to the barn. Maybe he could talk Jamie into a horseback ride…before he rode her. He couldn’t remember ever being so excited about being with a woman. It had been only two days, but he was as horny as a teenager. He heard the creak of the screen door and turned around. If he expected to be greeted with a big kiss or even a hug, he was doomed to be disappointed. Jamie knelt down and Harley rushed forward to greet her with happy yips and a wildly wagging tail. She wrapped her arms around his neck and scratched his ears. “I heard you’ve been a bad boy. Well, we’re going to work on that so you can be the superstar you should be.” She stood and held out her hand. “I’ll take good care of him.” Nick thought he’d misunderstood her. “I’m ready to go through his training with you.” “I think he needs more intensive training than we can give him in an afternoon.” “That’s okay. I can rearrange my schedule,” Nick offered. Jamie exhaled a long sigh. “Look, Nick. I’ve always been up front with you about what I need out of our…uh…friendship. But it’s over.” Nick felt his jaw drop and had to force his mouth closed before he said something he would regret…like begging her to reconsider.

“Things didn’t turn out the way I thought they would,” she went on. He could tell she was nervous because she was having trouble meeting his gaze. “I thought things were pretty fucking great.” “Oh, the sex was fantastic, but I just don’t have the time or energy to keep it up.” “That’s my job.” Nick tried to tease her out of the funky mood she seemed to be in. “I’ve been neglecting the dogs and my work. I’ve been trying to get a government contract, and I have to prepare my presentation.” Nick didn’t understand it, but he could certainly take a hint. Now he knew why she hadn’t returned his calls. She’d gotten her rocks off and didn’t need him anymore. Wham, bam, thank you, ma’am. Stiffly he thrust Harley’s leash toward her. “Text me when you want me to pick him up.” “Will do.” Nick held Harley’s big head in his hands. “You be a good boy, Harley, and study hard. I’m not leaving you. I’ll be back.” He knew all the dog was hearing was, “Blah, blah, blah, Harley, blah, blah, blah.” Hopefully Harley wouldn’t feel like Nick was deserting him forever like his other owner had, however unintentionally. Without another word to Jamie, he whirled on his heel and walked down the steps. He was almost to his truck when he heard her call out. “Nick…” He looked back, his vision suspiciously blurry. Jamie hesitated, then added, “Be careful out there.” He gave her a curt nod, then climbed into his truck, turned it on, and spun out in the gravel in his rush to get away from there. — Bobbi leaned over her desk and propped her forearms on the glass top as she stared at Nick. “So what’s the plan?” Nick thought for a minute. “Usually in the drug business you follow the money, but I think I’ll follow the waste.” “I have no idea what that means…and I’m not sure I want to know. So, how’s your dog’s diversion training going?” “I left him at the kennel for a few days. Jamie said she was going to spend all her time getting him through this.” That was a loose interpretation of what she’d said, but all things considered, he didn’t think Bobbi needed to hear the ugly details. “I know I got you into this, but I’m no longer convinced that the dog is an asset. Let’s see how well you do without him.” For Nick the roles had reversed. Now he was the one who thought having a K9 partner was a good idea. But he wasn’t in the mood to get into an argument with Bobbi. Between him and Harley, they’d done nothing but screw up for the past two weeks. To be honest, Jamie had been a distraction, and it was good that he wouldn’t have to think about her anymore. Yeah… right.

“What has Leo told you?” “Nothing so far. But we’re still working on him,” Bobbi answered. “I don’t think he’s our man, but hopefully he’ll give us something useful. I’ll let you know.” “I’m going to check out some real estate.” Bobbi stood and started to follow Nick toward the door. “Just stay below the radar. I’m tired of getting calls in the middle of the night.” “I’m focused now. This guy is going down.” “Promises, promises,” Bobbi muttered. Nick didn’t feel like going home to an empty house. He thought about dropping by the Jackalope and hanging out with Gina, but he knew he wouldn’t be welcome there so soon after last night’s debacle. Tomorrow he had class, and maybe he could get a name out of Bane. Nick was sure Bane knew more than he was telling. But short of waterboarding—which the department frowned upon—Nick had no easy way of coercing information out of Bane or any other student. They’d just have to trust him enough to let something slip. Which reminded him, it was time to drop by his chemist and pick up a fresh supply of safe loosies. Nick headed back to his truck. Later, after his visit and a few hours in a corner booth at an off-campus bar where he’d hoped to bump into his new best buds, Nick gave up and headed home. The townhouse was dark and quiet…too quiet. Nick wandered from room to room, not able to settle down. He had always been okay living alone. Funny how he’d gotten accustomed so quickly to sharing his space in both his house and his truck. So much so that now he found he was talking to himself, which was disturbing on so many levels. Had he always had onesided conversations with himself and just not realized it? He dumped out Harley’s food dish, cleaned his water bowl, and placed the dishes back on their mat, ready to fill as soon as the dog returned. Nick took a beer with him to the bathroom, where he showered, then sprawled on his bed to watch the late news. But he couldn’t focus on the TV. He kept checking his phone, even though he knew there would be no messages from Jamie. She’d kicked him to the curb. Had it been so bad for her? Had he not lived up to her expectations? After having the best sex of his life, it was humbling to realize his partner had been disappointed. Nick’s ego had taken quite a blow. Even worse, he had done what he had vowed never to do: he’d let his heart get involved. The thought of not spending more time with Jamie, even without the sex, was devastating. The whole concept of love was a big joke…and not a very funny one. He should have known better. “Look out! Hide your fruit!” yelled a cop in the police-station lobby as Nick entered. “Where’s your killer dog?” “Go screw yourself, Lou Where’s your partner?” Nick asked. “Alex? He’s in his office.” Nick went to the elevator and quickly snagged a car to the fourth floor. “Hey Nick…you out on bail?” “Everyone’s a comedian.” Without waiting for an invitation, Nick sat down on the chair

next to the detective’s desk. “As much as I hate to ask, I need your help.” Alex realized this was business, and the smile on his face evaporated. “What can I do for you?” “I need the addresses and landlord information on the last few drug labs you busted.” “Getting out of that dump you live in?” Nick pinned him with a steely glare. “I’ll wait.” “You’re serious? Sure, why not?” Alex reached into the file drawer on the right side of his desk and flipped through the files, occasionally pulling out a folder and setting it on his desk. He shut the drawer and pushed the pile of about twenty files toward Nick. “These are from the last six months. Good luck with them. We never found anything. Cleanest drug labs I’ve ever seen. Fuck, I wish my wife kept our house that spotless.” “Thanks. I’ll bring these back when I’m done.” Nick grabbed them and exited the office without another word. Once back in his truck, he sat in the parking lot and scanned the files, trying to see the connection. The more he read, the more convinced he was that this was the best lead he’d gotten so far. But it also became evident that he needed Harley to go with him. Only a dog’s nose could sniff through the disinfectants and cleansers. Where once his fingers had trembled with excitement, he now dialed the phone with dread. “Hello.” Just hearing her voice caused his stomach to twist. “Hi, Jamie. It’s Nick.” There was silence on the other end of the line. “How’s Harley’s training coming along?” “He’s doing good.” She paused. “He misses you.” “Yeah, believe it or not, I miss him too.” And you, he added to himself, but he knew she didn’t want to hear that. Again there was silence. “I’m on this big case, you know.” “How’s that going?” “Lots of dead ends. I’ve got a promising new lead, but I can’t do it as well without Harley.” “He’s not really ready.” “This case is too important for me to blow, so I’m willing to take a chance.” Nick managed a weak smile. “I’ll just keep him away from strawberries.” “When do you want to come pick him up?” “My class is over at five, so I can head straight out there.” He sensed her hesitation. “I won’t stay long. I’ve got work to do tonight.” “Okay. See you later.” He hung up and realized he had broken out in a sweat in spite of the air conditioner in his truck blowing full blast. He wanted to see Jamie so much that it hurt…and yet he didn’t. It was like pulling the scab off a wound a little at a time. It was always better just to rip it off. Until he no longer had to see Jamie, the wound would never heal. Nick sighed. He had a bad feeling that this was one wound that might never heal…no

matter what. — Sam and Bane were disappointed he wouldn’t be joining them after class. But when Nick told them he had to pick up his dog from the trainer, they’d understood. Plus, he gave them a baggie of his special loosies. They thought he was being generous when in fact he was trying to save their lives. He had missed lunch, so he stopped for a P. Terry’s burger on the way out of town. He even bought a junior burger, plain, as a welcome-back treat for Harley. Even though he didn’t have anything to look forward to once he arrived, he still found himself speeding along toward Jamie’s farm. He parked under the tree, backing into the space as usual. He hesitated a minute before getting out of his truck. Everything looked the same…and yet everything was different. The cows and horses were in their pastures. He could hear the dogs barking in the kennels. He could see a pitcher of ice-cold lemonade sweating in the June heat. And somewhere on the property he knew Jamie…with her great laugh, her killer body, and her beautiful heart…was hanging out. He shoved open his door and stepped out of his truck. No one answered his knock. He considered whether he should wait or go look for her. The last thing he wanted was for her to think he had any expectation of sex. At this point he wouldn’t fuck her even if she begged. Ha! Who was he kidding? He wouldn’t turn down anything she offered. His pride be damned. “Harley!” He heard her voice calling the dog just seconds before a massive object hit him hard, knocking him down to the porch. He rolled over and his face was quickly covered in big, wet doggy kisses. If he’d thought Harley might not be glad to see him, all doubt was washed away by the dog’s enthusiastic greeting. “Harley, bad dog,” Jamie reprimanded, but neither the man nor the dog responded. Nick grabbed the dog’s head on both sides and shook it, play fighting like they had often done back at his house. Harley growled, but it held none of the menace he used when actually facing danger. Finally, when both were exhausted, Nick pushed Harley off and sat up. “Do you have strawberries in your pocket or is he just happy to see you?” Jamie joked. Nick held his hands out. “No strawberries.” He got to his feet and smiled down at Harley, who was leaning against his leg as if to keep Nick from leaving again. “I’m sorry to cut his training short, but I’m researching some buildings, and I need Harley’s nose.” “I wish he could stay longer, but now that you know his weakness, you can be extra vigilant until you have time to bring him back.” Nick’s hungry eyes quickly swept her body, appreciating the way the cutoff shorts cupped her ass and the T-shirt clung to her breasts. Her chestnut brown hair was pulled up into a messy topknot with tendrils escaping to frame her face. His gaze focused on her eyes, searching for some sign that she had missed him even half as much as he missed her. He loved the way her eyes darkened to a deep cerulean color when she was aroused, but now

they were more green than blue. For a moment he caught a flash of something that looked suspiciously like longing, but a shutter quickly dropped. However, that brief glimpse gave him hope. Maybe she wasn’t as neutral as she would like him to believe. “Well, I guess I’d better head home,” he said. “Where’s Harley’s leash?” “I’ll get it. As soon as he heard your truck, he shot out of the arena before I could catch him.” She glanced over at the lemonade. “Why don’t you sit down and have a drink?” she suggested. “I would, but I really do have to get back. I have an appointment to see an apartment tonight.” She seemed genuinely disappointed, but she didn’t try to change his mind. “I’ll go get his leash.” Five minutes later, Nick and Harley were in their truck, heading back to Austin. He had almost changed his mind and taken her up on her offer. Who knew what might come of it? Maybe not tonight, but gradually, he could win her back. But the memory of Jess, sitting on Bane’s lap, laughing and alive, just days before, kept Nick from turning the truck around. He’d never had trouble concentrating on his job before, and he knew he had to put Jamie out of his mind long enough to catch a killer. After that, though, Jamie better watch out, because he would be focusing 100 percent of his attention on her and pulling out all the stops. The one thing he had discovered today was that he wasn’t ready to let her go.

Chapter 12 Nick stood next to the middle-aged woman while she unlocked the apartment door. “I’ve got a renter moving in tomorrow, so don’t let that dog shit or pee on the floor, or you’ll get the cleanup bill….Hear me?” Her voice was loud enough to be heard on all four floors of the building. “No worries, ma’am. He’s a highly trained law-enforcement agent.” She gave Harley a more respectful glance, then entered the small one-bedroom apartment. “Is this how it was when the former tenant left?” Nick followed her into the apartment with Harley close by his side. She looked around nervously, as if worried she might be overheard. She signaled for Nick to come closer before answering in a voice barely above a whisper. “Look, I stay here free if I can keep the units occupied and the maintenance costs down. I never met the guy who moved in, only his friend who paid the first month’s rent and the deposit in cash. He was here for only about three weeks, then, in the middle of the night, he was gone.” Again she checked over her shoulder and peered out in the hallway before continuing. “He left this place spotless…I mean, cleaner than when my cleaning guys go through a unit. It was weird.” Nick pulled a loosie, careful not to choose a strawberry one, out of a plastic bag. He knelt in front of Harley and allowed the dog to get a good whiff. “Seek, Harley….Go get it.” Harley’s nose lifted in the air, sucking in and cataloging all the scents. He didn’t head directly to anything but inspected each room, one at a time, along the baseboards, on the counters, and in the cabinets. He even dipped his head into the toilet. Frustrated, he started over, retracing his steps again. “What’s in the bag?” the apartment manager asked. Nick held it up for her to examine more closely. “This is a loosie…a drug-soaked cigarette with a fruit-flavored wrapper. Ever see one?” “No. Just a lot of pot. Our tenants tend to be students and people who…spend more time high than gainfully employed. As long as they pay on time, I don’t ask, and the owners don’t care.” “Any idea how he got the place so clean? Like…who the cleaners were?” “I happened to look out my window that night and saw an unmarked van and two pretty rough-looking guys going in and out. They were gone by sunrise.” “Hmm, Pulp Fiction. Did they make a lot of noise?” “Loved that movie. No, I didn’t hear anything. And there wasn’t a single complaint from anyone in the adjoining apartments.” Harley returned and sat on Nick’s left shoe. He panted in exhaustion and shame that he had failed. Nick began to walk to the door and Harley rose and walked next to him, but his tail wasn’t wagging. He’d not done his job, and he knew it.

Nick stopped in the doorway. “Is there anything you can remember about their van or what they looked like? What they were wearing? Anything unusual?” She thought for a moment. “The van was painted black. Sloppy, like with a paintbrush, and all the names and trim had been ripped off. There were holes where a sign had been attached. They weren’t wearing real uniforms, but they all had on black jumpsuits and black stocking caps. Oh…I don’t know if this is helpful, but there was a trailer hitch on the back that had a black Texas star stuck over it.” “A black star hitch cover plate.” Nick supplied the correct name. “That’s a big help.” Once back in his truck, Nick jotted down some notes on the back of the folder, then picked up the next one. It was too late tonight, but he could check out several tomorrow before and after class. But now he needed some alcohol therapy. He drove back to his townhouse. As he pulled into the driveway, Harley sat erect on the seat, his tail wagging and his ears perked. He knew he was home. Once they were in the house, Harley circled it, making sure no strangers had invaded his territory while he was gone. Nick filled the dog bowls with fresh food and water, then whistled for Harley. “Let’s take a walk, boy, but it’s going to be quick. There’s a barstool waiting for me.” Harley recognized the word walk and hurried back to Nick. They took the shortest path and Harley did not disappoint. Nick grimaced as he gingerly picked up the steaming-hot chunks of poop with a plastic bag. He’d touched dead bodies and helped stop blood flow from bullet wounds. But never had he handled anything as disgusting as fresh dog shit. He dropped it in the Dumpster at his complex on his way back to his house. “Unfortunately, you’ve been banned from the Jackalope, and I think it’s too soon to plead your case.” Nick unclipped the leash and hung it on a hook by the front door. He took a large bone he had picked up at a butcher shop and held it out for Harley, who gave it a cautious sniff, then took it in his big jaws. Nick turned the TV on. “They’re having a COPS marathon. Maybe you can learn some new techniques.” Nick headed toward the front door, and Harley, the bone still in his mouth, followed, his tail wagging expectantly. Nick led him back to the big doggy bed that was next to Nick’s recliner. “Lie down, boy….I’m flying solo tonight.” Nick pointed toward the TV screen and explained, as if the dog were understanding every word, “It’s called binge watching….Take notes.” He gave the dog a final pat on the head, then left, carefully locking the door behind him. The Jackalope was beginning to fill up for the evening when Nick walked in and made his way to his regular end stool. A coaster landed squarely in front of Nick. “Hey.” “How’re you doing?” he asked Gina. “I’m good. Car’s back on the road, and it cost me nothing. All I had to do was sweet talk Gary into fixing it.” “I’m sure he’ll expect to be paid….” Nick’s eyebrows arched suggestively. Gina understood his meaning and shrugged. “It was worth it. I was tired of riding the bus.”

“You need to find a good guy who doesn’t take advantage of you.” “Yeah, well, I’m waiting for you.” Nick knew she wasn’t serious. Gina flirted with everyone. It was all about the tips. “I’m not a good guy. Besides, I don’t know how to work on cars, and yours is a full-time job.” “What can I get you?” “Same as last time.” She returned a minute later with a draft beer. Perched on the side was a juicy, ripe strawberry. “Very funny,” Nick snorted as he picked the piece of fruit off and wiped the rim with a napkin. “Harley had to go into diversion therapy.” “How?” “His trainer, Jamie, has been working with him.” Gina slid him an amused look. “I heard Jamie’s been working with you too.” “That’s not true.” Nick’s first response was to deny it, but he couldn’t help but wonder where she’d heard about Jamie. “Yeah it is. I know that look.” Gina smiled and turned to take care of another customer before Nick could protest. He drank in silence, keeping an eye on everyone who entered or exited the bar. He saw Emily come in with a group of girls, but she didn’t see him—or acted like she didn’t—and Nick didn’t call out to her. He doubted she had any pleasant thoughts about their time together before the strawberry fiasco, and he wasn’t in the mood to try to change her mind. Gina returned. “Are you going to order food?” “Nah, I had a late lunch.” She pushed a bowl of nuts and mini pretzels in front of him. “It’s fresh. I just filled this bowl.” “Good. I don’t like sloppy seconds.” He grinned innocently. “They say there are more germs in a bowl of bar chow than on a toilet seat.” “Yuck. Don’t say that too loud. Bar chow makes people thirsty.” He took a handful of the supposedly germ-free snack and sniffed it like Harley would have before putting it in his mouth. Gina leaned forward, her elbows on the bar. “I hear Jamie’s really pretty.” Nick choked and almost spit out the mouthful of partially chewed peanuts. He quickly took a drink to wash it down. “Lives in a barn apartment. Kind of kooky, if you’re into that sort of thing, which apparently you are,” she continued. Nick set his mug down with a thud. “What the hell?” Gina stepped back and waved her hands in front of her. “Just making conversation.” “How does this shit get out, anyway? Where did you hear all that?” “You know I can’t reveal my sources.” She flashed him a sweet and very insincere smile. “Personally, I’m glad you found someone who can put up with you and your schedule.” “Yeah, well, sorry to break your fantasy cherry, but Jamie and I are strictly business. She’s

still mourning her dead husband.” “Too bad. She’s missing out.” Nick pushed his empty mug toward her. “Someone drank my beer.” “Wow…I didn’t even see it happen. Should I call the police?” “No, thanks. I’ve already been arrested once this week.” She put his mug in the sink and filled a clean one. After she placed it in front of him, he said, “Let me ask you a question.” “Sure…Shoot.” “Ever see a black van with a black star of Texas on the trailer hitch?” Gina laughed. “You do know you’re in Texas? Black vehicles with stars on their trailer hitches are as common as naked chrome girls on mud flaps or rubber testicles hanging from the bumper.” Nick nodded. “Yeah, you’re probably right.” Gina gave him a curious look. “What’s with the trailer hitch? You moving out of that dump you’re in?” “Why does everyone ask me that? My house is nice. Crappy neighbor, but the complex is okay.” “Sorry, I’ve just heard…Never mind.” Nick rolled his eyes. “Am I all they can talk about?” “Let’s just say that you’re trending right now.” “I’m not moving. The van is connected to a case I’m working on.” “Sorry I can’t help.” “Me too.” Nick finished his beer and set the mug on the bar and pushed it toward Gina. “Call me if you see one. Maybe I’ll get lucky.” Just as he parked in his driveway, Nick’s cellphone rang and Jamie’s name popped up on the screen. “Hey, how’s it going?” he asked, working to keep his voice neutral. “I’m good. Thought I’d check in on Harley….I’ve got to get his number and stop bothering you.” “I just got home from the Jackalope.” “Oh my God…back to the scene of the crime?” “Why not?” “You’re nuts, Nick. What if he did it again? You know I’m not through with his training.” Nick smiled at her concern. “Harley stayed home. He wanted to catch up on his favorite TV show.” “Just be careful.” “Aww…it sounds like you care.” “I’m just worried about Harley.” She paused. “He’s special. Night.” The call went dead. Nick wasn’t sure whether he should be excited that she had called or annoyed that she seemed to care only about Harley. That reminded him that someone knew

more about their relationship than he did…and they were blabbing about it all over town. If Jamie got wind of that, she’d run away so fast there would be a trail of dust behind her like the Road Runner. In his spare time Nick resolved to track down that blabbermouth and shut him up.

Chapter 13 Nick and Harley checked out five more apartments before class, all with the same result. Clean as a whistle and smelling fresh as a daisy. Those landlords who’d witnessed anything had all reported the same nondescript black van. One person had even noticed that the license plates were from Colorado, but they didn’t remember any of the numbers or letters. Nick wasn’t too excited about that clue because license plates were too easily stolen and replaced. He suspected the cleaners used different plates for every job…and none that were legally registered to the van. It was such a nice day, Nick decided not to eat in his truck like he usually did. He picked up a Subway BMT and found a bench under a large live oak tree in a park near the Capitol. It was just after noon, and there were lots of people walking around, going to lunch or heading back to the office with takeout bags. With each bite he took, he tore off a chunk for Harley, until the sandwich was gone. “All gone,” he told Harley, and held out his hands to show there was nothing left but the wrapper. Harley sniffed the paper, then was distracted by a squirrel chattering overhead. Nick picked up his phone and scrolled through his contacts. The apartment plan was a dead end, but he had another idea. He had brought a retractable leash so Harley could feel free to check out all the tantalizing smells while still being under control. Ever since that disaster in the Jackalope, Nick kept a tight hold on the leash or clipped it to a belt loop with a carabiner. You never knew when someone eating a strawberry might walk past with catastrophic results. Nick selected a contact and hit the “call” button. He held the phone to his ear. It was an old friend he had worked undercover with several years ago. Their paths rarely crossed, but when either of them needed some inside information, they’d make a call. “Hey, Jerry…it’s Nick. Did you get my message?” “Hi, Nick. I hear you’ve been having some trouble with your new partner.” “Holy shit, is there anyone who hasn’t heard?” “Probably not. You know how juicy news travels.” “I’ll be glad when someone else fucks up. Did you find what I asked about?” Nick pulled a small spiral notebook out of his pocket, along with a pen. Everyone else in the department had graduated to iPads, but he preferred old-fashioned handwritten notes. No batteries and no extension cords required. “Of course. You knew I’d come through for you.” Jerry chuckled. “This guy is one of my deepest CIs. Everyone calls him Veritably. I don’t know if he’s the guy you’re looking for, but he’s got a crew that does emergency cleanups…no questions asked. I’ll text you his number. Use my name….He owes me.” “Veritably?” “Mr. Clean. Everybody knows that. The company held a contest and gave away a house or something as first prize for naming Mr. Clean, and they picked Veritably.”

“Are you shitting me?” Nick new some obscure shit, but he’d never heard that story before. “No, it’s real. Look it up.” “That’s okay. I trust you.” “And Nick? He’s bald. He’s in one of those over-fifty dating clubs, so he sometimes wears a wig. Whatever you do, don’t laugh at him.” Jerry’s voice was dead serious with the warning. It was an ominous end to the call. The phone went dead, and a moment later a text with the phone number came through. Nick immediately dialed it. “Yeah?” “Veritably?” “Who wants to know?” “I’m a friend of Jerry at APD. He gave me your number and said you might be able to help me.” “Jerry! Shit, he hasn’t called me in months. I was beginning to think he’d gotten taken down.” “Nah, he’s fine.” “How do you know Jerry? You work for APD too?” “DEA.” “Hey, dude, I don’t do meth labs anymore. Too dangerous for my crew. I’ve gone legit.” “This ain’t meth. You available to meet with me?” “Uh…I guess. I’m here cleaning out my museum today.” His museum? Nick was growing more curious by the moment. “Can I come by this afternoon?” “I’ll text you the address.” The phone went dead. Nick stood and clapped his hands. “Harley…time to go!” Harley dropped a large stick he’d been gnawing on and raced full steam toward Nick. They loaded back into Nick’s truck and set off to check out Mr. Clean’s museum. Forty-five minutes later, Nick pulled off the two-lane county road east of Pflugerville, Texas. A mailbox with no name was rusted shut and tilted at a right angle. If it hadn’t been for a small wooden sign with the word MUSEUM and an arrow hand-painted on it, Nick wouldn’t have been sure this was the right place. He slowed to a crawl to get down a rough limestone driveway that was pocked with weeds and small trees. The underbrush on each side was so thick that no buildings were visible from the road, but when he reached a cleared area, he saw a large, weathered barn that dwarfed the trailer house next to it. Most important, a black van was parked in front of the barn. And the towing receiver had a black star of Texas. Nick lowered the window. The barn seemed the most likely place to find a living person, so he decided to try it first. Frankly, he didn’t want to go inside the trailer house without making sure his vaccinations were up-to-date. Nick pressed the doorbell, triggering the loud clanging of an old-fashioned fire bell inside, and waited patiently for the master cleaner to open the door. A panel, head high, slid open violently. “Nick?”

Nick held up his ID card. “This is my partner, Harley.” The man’s eyes studied the card, then shifted right and left, looking for the mystery partner. Nick nodded downward, and the man shifted his gaze to Harley’s level. There was a loud clanging noise of a latch being opened on the inside of the metal door, and then it swung open. “Gotta get this lock fixed before the grand opening.” “Grand opening?” He guessed by the man’s bald head and take-charge attitude that this was the infamous Veritably. If the man had had an earring and been a foot taller with fifty more pounds of muscle, he’d have been the spitting image of Mr. Clean. “Yeah…welcome to Crimes “R” Us Museum. It opens in two months, if I can get the driveway redone and a parking lot cleared. I’m expecting big crowds.” “Really?” It seemed like a shot in the dark to Nick. But sometimes these niche ideas had enthusiastic audiences. “Who wouldn’t want to see photos, real brains, bloodstained wallboard and carpet…all that stuff we haul off from crime scenes. Throw in some newspaper headlines, police reports, and intimate details from my friends on the force, and I’ll have mystery writers and wannabe cops all over the place.” Nick winced at the smell of the air inside the future museum. Even Harley’s eyes were tearing up, and he rubbed his paw over his nose as if trying to clear the cloying odor from his sensitive nasal passages. Veritably shrugged. “I’ve breathed in the cleanser fumes and all the bodily juices for so long, I’ve almost lost my sense of smell.” “Crime scenes are a downer….Listen—” Nick began, but was interrupted. “You’re a cop…sort of. Come with me.” Veritably had taken off and was halfway down the hallway, leaving Nick no option but to follow him into a room with one whole wall covered by a map of the Hill Country. Colored strings stretched from points on the map to numbers. A legend on the adjoining wall had a list of names, addresses, and details corresponding to the numbers. “This map shows where all the most famous crimes happened in a one-hundredmile radius. I’ll be selling a map that they can take out on a self-guided tour after they leave here.” “Like a map to the movie stars’ houses.” The quirky little man squinted at Nick, then slowly smiled. “Sick…but I like it. Anyway, I have a room set aside for each one of these crime scenes. I have ten acres, so I have room to add on when I need to. You know how it is with crimes: there will always be more, and each one is bigger and better.” “So, you have enough real estate to cover hundreds of suicides and murders for years to come. Interesting business plan.” “Exactly!” He smiled. “Twenty-five years in the business, you collect a lot of specimens… and make a lot of friends.” Harley tugged at his leash, leaning toward the first room on the museum tour. His nose was in the air, clearly following a scent. He headed for some buckets with rags in them that were sitting by an exit door. Nick noticed and nodded toward them. “Is that from one of your cleanup jobs?”

Veritably shrugged, apparently not willing to answer specific questions. “Heel, Harley,” Nick commanded, and Harley reluctantly obeyed. “Cadaver dog?” “Nah. Drugs.” “Listen, I told you I don’t do meth labs anymore. Besides, they don’t provide any exhibits for my museum.” “What about apartment cleaning?” The man didn’t respond immediately. “Crime scenes are my specialty.” “You’re licensed, bonded, and insured, right?” Veritably nodded, but his expression showed disgust. “Those yuppies in Austin make it so hard. Every two years they meet and create more fuckin’ regulations, more fines, more fees, and even more limits on what chemicals we can use. They’ve taken all the fun and profit out.” Nick was having difficulty working up any sympathy for this guy, but he tried to play along to earn his trust. “You’ve put a lot of money into this museum, haven’t you?” “I have…and five years of my life to get it this far along.” “But you probably make pretty big bucks cleaning up crime scenes. It’s a dirty job,” Nick said, actually agreeing with that statement. He’d seen enough crime scenes to know that brains and blood splattered like watermelons, going everywhere and staining everything they touched. “The shittiest. That’s why it pays so good.” “Ever take care of a loosie lab in the middle of the night?” Nick waited carefully for Veritably’s reaction. People could lie with their mouths, but their eyes usually gave them away. The man hesitated, trying to decide how much he wanted to tell this stranger. But his respect for Jerry must have won out. “I got a guy,” he admitted. “What’s his name…this guy?” “No idea. He sends me a text from a burner phone with an address. I go there the next night, and we clean it up. He always leaves a pile of cash to pay for it.” Nick tried not to show his excitement at that news. “Next time he contacts you, I need you to send me the address.” Veritably shifted nervously, obviously regretting this whole conversation. “You trying to run me out of business?” “Me? No. You can still have the job. I’m just trying to find the guy who’s killing kids. I could see about getting a reward for you, if we catch him.” “Reward?” Veritably visibly perked up. “All I need is for you to forward the address to me the minute you receive it.” There was a moment of silence. “Do you think if I had some of those large glass pickle jars with body parts on display with bullet wounds to show the damage, that people would like that? I could use animal parts because I know it would be complicated to get real human parts. I’ve heard pig hearts are similar to ours.” “What?” Nick gave himself a mental shake. Was this guy even listening…or was he blowing

Nick off? “Do you think the public would want to see that…something cool to tell their friends? Plus, it’s great research for writers or crime fans. There are a lot of those out there. I checked. There are even crime workshops for mystery writers. I could do that too. Good idea, huh?” “I’m around this stuff all the time, so I’m not a good one to ask.” Nick was completely convinced this guy was bat-shit crazy, but he didn’t want to blow Jerry’s connection. Veritably didn’t seem discouraged by Nick’s answer. “So? You’ll send me the address as soon as you get it?” Nick persisted. “Sure. Just don’t let anyone know where you got it.” “Thanks…You’ll be saving some kids from a gruesome death. This guy is making poison in a stick.” “That’s shitty. Kids have enough things to worry about.” Nick handed Veritably his card. “Staple it to your arm.” Nick turned to leave, but Harley really wanted to check out the rest of the museum. Nick was tempted, but the last thing he needed was to find some illegal drugs. Jerry would never forgive him for taking his best confidential informant off the street. Nick gave Harley’s leash a sharp tug. “Harley, heel.” Reluctantly Harley moved to Nick’s left side and followed his master out into the sunshine. In spite of the dust lifting off the limestone driveway, Nick left the windows down as they headed back toward the county road that would take them to I-35 and back to Austin. He glanced in the rearview mirror and saw Harley panting and filling his nostrils with the fresh air, sneezing repeatedly as he tried to clear his long nose of the museum’s nasty odors. “I’m with you, boy,” Nick told him. “They’ll never get repeat customers.” Nick barely made it to class on time. He didn’t have time to take Harley home, so the dog happily accompanied him to a new building full of strange and exciting smells. Professor Hutchens showed the first half of Citizen Kane, stopping often to discuss plot points and act breaks. Nick struggled to stay awake. Harley didn’t even try and stretched out next to Nick’s chair. A couple times deep snores issued from that side of the room, and Nick wasn’t sure if they came from him or his dog. “Late night?” Sam asked as she fell into step with him after class. Nick tried to shrug it off. “You know how it is….” “Yeah, I don’t get enough sleep either. My roommate had company last night, and they were fucking noisy.” She giggled. “Get it? Their fucking was fucking noisy.” Nick smiled because she expected him to. But his mind had drifted to Jamie. The last time he’d enjoyed missing sleep, he’d been with her…being fucking noisy. “You coming to Bane’s this afternoon?” Nick glanced down at Harley. Since he had no idea how the dog would react when enveloped in loosie-goosey smoke, he knew it wouldn’t be wise to test it. “Nah, I’ve got to get Harley home. He hasn’t eaten all day.” “Oh, poor puppy.” Sam leaned over and stroked Harley’s black ruff. “Well, maybe tomorrow.” “I’ll leave him at home,” Nick agreed.

They headed in different directions, with Sam catching up with Bane and Nick going to the parking lot where he’d left his truck. He had barely gotten inside the cab when his phone rang. When he saw Jamie’s name, he suddenly felt a little breathless. Why was she calling? He answered, curious and a little cautious. “Hi, Jamie.”

Chapter 14 Jamie panicked when he answered. What the hell was she doing? She had vowed to never see or contact him again, and here she was, calling him like a lovesick schoolgirl. She thought about hanging up, but it was too late. Damn caller ID. “Hi. How’s Harley?” she asked. Safe question. Nick would never guess how happy she was to hear his voice. “He’s fine….Sitting right next to me. You wanna talk to him?” Jamie laughed. There was a pause, and even though he didn’t ask, she knew he was thinking, Why is she calling? She had been so adamant at their last meeting that she couldn’t admit that she missed him…that the nights had been long and lonely without him…that she’d gotten used to looking forward to seeing him. No, she could never admit any of that to him. It might give him the wrong idea that she had changed her mind. Her resolve had been firm until she got the invitation to conduct a workshop at the lawenforcement conference being held in Austin. No one mentioned Nick’s name, but she had no doubt that he was the one who had suggested her name to the coordinator. It wouldn’t be polite of her to not thank him for such a kind gesture. The added benefit would be that her hungry eyes would be able to soak him in. Jeez…the lovesick-schoolgirl analogy was ridiculously accurate. It was a risk, since Nick had likely already moved on. Or he could be busy tonight…or not interested. Her whole body tingled in anticipation of his response. She didn’t want to admit it, but she hoped the evening would end in his bed. She needed that one more time for closure….At least, that’s what she told herself. Finally she answered. “No, I was calling to see if you wanted to meet me for dinner. I’m in the city today, and I just thought…maybe…” Nick did a little mental happy dance but kept his voice calm. “Sure. We just got out of class. Where do you want to meet?” “You pick. I’m not familiar with Austin.” “Where are you?” “Northland and Mopac,” she told him. “There’s a really good Mexican restaurant right there on Northland, on the west side of Mopac.” There was a pause, then Jamie said, “Oh, I think I see it. I’m parked at the gas station on the corner.” “Wait for me in the bar. Try their homemade tortilla chips. They’re the best.” “Okay. See you soon.” “I’m on my way.” Nick’s spirits soared. Jamie had called him. That meant she was missing him, right? He

was momentarily sobered by the memory of the last time they’d talked, when he’d gotten his hopes up, only to have them smashed. The only thing he could do was to play it by ear…but shit, he was so excited that she had called. He started his truck and would have broken every speed limit between downtown and Mopac, except that it was the beginning of rush hour and everyone else was heading out of town at the same time. He inched along, cursing every driver who cut in front of him until he finally pulled into the parking lot at the restaurant. He parked next to her SUV and hopped out. Harley sensed his master’s excitement and wagged his tail in anticipation. Jamie was sitting at the bar, a big margarita in front of her. Nick hesitated a moment, drinking in the sight of her. She’d left her hair loose around her shoulders, and it glowed golden red in the artificial light. Her tanned arms were bare and the sundress she was wearing dipped to offer an enticing view of her cleavage. She was more dressed up than he’d ever seen her, and he wondered what had brought her to Austin for the day. She looked up at that moment and saw him. A genuine smile lit up her eyes and curved her delicious lips. She waved as if he hadn’t noticed her. “Hey, you can’t bring that dog in here,” the hostess declared when Nick tried to pass her. Nick flashed his badge. “Service dog,” he said, barely slowing down. “We need a table for two, preferably in a corner so he won’t get in the way.” “Yes, sir,” the hostess answered, her attitude changing quickly. “I’ll be in the bar,” he called back over his shoulder. His focus had been on Jamie from the second he walked through the doorway, and nothing was going to distract him. He slid onto the stool next to her. She greeted Harley enthusiastically, then managed to neutralize her expression by the time she looked back at Nick. “How was class?” “Boring. The movie today was supposed to be a classic.” “Which one?” “Citizen Kane. Ever seen it?” “Probably. My mom used to love old movies.” “We watched The Good, the Bad and the Ugly last week. That was pretty cool.” God, could the conversation be more generic? Next they would be talking about the weather. “Sir, your table is ready,” the hostess said from behind him. Jamie picked up her almost-empty margarita glass and followed the hostess as she wove through the dining area until they reached a table in the far corner. Nick and Harley took the back seats. “Your server will be with you shortly.” The hostess handed them both menus before returning to her station by the front door. “What do you recommend?” Jamie asked as she studied the menu. “I haven’t actually eaten here. I’m more of a bar sitter,” Nick admitted. “Hi, my name is Amber. Can I get you something to drink while you decide?” an attractive young woman, probably a UT student, asked as she stopped at their table and smiled. “I’ll take a Corona,” Nick said.

“And I’ll have another margarita, frozen, with salt.” Jamie drained her glass and handed it to Amber. “I’ll turn this in and come back for your meal order.” She headed toward the bar. “Why were you in town today?” Nick asked. “There’s a conference at the convention center for police departments from all over the southwest. Someone gave them my name, and they invited me to speak about specialized K9 training.” She leveled a knowing look at him. “I know it was you. Thanks.” Nick shrugged off her gratitude. “I bumped into the guy who was organizing the event, and when he said one of his speakers had to drop out, I suggested you. No big deal.” “It could be a very big deal. I gave out over two dozen cards, and several others approached me after the meeting and made appointments to come out to Woof Gang. Any one of those contracts would put us in the black.” Amber returned with their drinks, and they gave her their food orders. When she left, Nick raised his beer. “Let’s toast to your success.” Jamie clicked her margarita glass against his bottle, and they each took a drink. “Careful. Daiquiri alert,” she whispered as Amber approached the table next to them with two giant red daiquiris with big, juicy strawberries sitting on the rims. Nick never let go of Harley’s leash when they were in a crowded public place, but he tightened it as a safety measure. Harley had been lying with his head on his paws, but as the irresistible fruit passed him, he lifted his nose in the air and drew in deep breaths. Drool formed in the corners of his mouth, and his eyes watered, but he didn’t jump up or make any attempt to get the strawberries. “Wow, I’m impressed!” Nick exclaimed. “What did you do?” “Trade secrets,” she teased. “Actually, he’s a very smart dog. It didn’t take him long to realize that he has to wait for commands. Besides, I think he knew you didn’t approve, and dogs like to please their masters.” “How’s your case coming?” she asked. “I’ve got an informant who could be the key to cracking the case. That is, if he’s not braindead from breathing formaldehyde fumes all day.” Jamie’s expression was bewildered. Even after Nick explained about the crime museum and Veritably’s plans for expansion, she still looked confused. “Does he really think people will pay to go see that?” Nick nodded. “There are some crime and suspense writers who would probably find it useful for research. But I’d be more concerned about the psychos he’s going to attract. Sounds like something Charles Manson or Ted Bundy would have visited.” Harley settled back down, but Nick tied the leash to the slat-back chair so his hands would be free to put together and eat the fajitas he and Jamie had decided to share. Amber delivered their food, then came back with another margarita for Jamie and a beer for Nick. “I meant to tell you,” Jamie said as they ate. “Your grandma was singing at the Spoke last week.” “Really? I’d like to have seen that. She used to sing a lot around the house when we were kids, but I’ve never been to a show.”

“She was there with a local band. I guess their lead singer was sick. They did a lot of classic country but also some new stuff.” Jamie took a drink. “It must be fun to have such a cool grandmother.” For Nick, his grandmother, with all her quirks and habits, had always just been his grandmother. The Grammy statue had been on the shelf for as long as he could remember, so to him it had always been just another knickknack. It was difficult to visualize his grandmother as a beautiful, talented, young woman. As he got older, he appreciated her uniqueness more, but he had never actually seen her onstage. “I’m going to have to get her to call me next time she has a gig,” he said. “I’ll let you know if she comes back to the Spoke,” Jamie promised. They finished their meal and moved to the patio to watch the sunset. Nick asked Amber to bring a bowl of water for Harley and ordered a glass of water for himself. To his surprise, Jamie ordered another margarita. “I know I shouldn’t, but they’re so good.” Nick didn’t comment. She was an adult, and she should know her own capacity, but she seemed nervous. He wanted to hear why she had called. He suspected it was more than gratitude. “Last time I saw you, you pretty much told me to go to hell. What’s changed?” He decided to be blunt. Jamie’s cheeks were already a little pink from the alcohol, but they reddened even more. Her eyes lowered to study the slushy ice mixture in her glass. “I never told you to go to hell,” she said a little defensively. “It was just that I was spending so much time with you that I…” Her voice trailed off. “That you what?” he prompted, not willing to make it easy on her by backing off. “That I got used to having you around.” Her voice was so low that he had to strain to hear it. He grinned. “You missed me?” She looked up and gave an exasperated sigh as if she was being forced to admit something she’d rather not. “There were parts of you I missed.” Not exactly the revelation he’d hoped for, but at least it was something. Maybe tonight wasn’t going to be so bad. He didn’t want to frighten her off, so he changed the subject to something less provocative. “How’s Jared?” She relaxed and chattered on about her brother and his possible girlfriend. Nick waited for her to drop a hint about what might happen later, but she kept the conversation neutral. However, she was in no hurry to leave, which he took as a good sign. Later, as they were walking out of the restaurant to their vehicles, he noticed she was a little unsteady on her feet. She almost fell as she tried to step over the curb stop in the parking lot. Nick grabbed her and kept his arm around her waist as they approached their vehicles. She seemed to be having trouble focusing. “That last drink was a little stronger than the first four.” “You had five margaritas?” Nick was surprised. He’d counted only four. She must have downed one before he arrived. He definitely wasn’t going to let her get behind the wheel, and

a cab ride to Dripping Springs would be very expensive. “You’re in no condition to drive home tonight,” he told her. “I have a spare bedroom at my place. You can sleep there, then I’ll bring you back to pick up your car tomorrow morning.” “Your place?” She leaned against him as if unable to stand without his support. “I guess…if you promise not to take advantage of me.” She giggled as if she’d made a hilarious joke. Nick wasn’t amused. He’d been dreaming of getting Jamie into his bed. But not like this. He was just a simple guy. Women were mystical creatures that he didn’t totally understand… or care to. That was one of the advantages of not having an extended relationship. He didn’t stick around long enough to try to understand their thought processes. Jamie was the first woman Nick had cared enough about to want to know what made her tick. However, keeping up with her rapidly changing emotions was testing his resolve. She didn’t protest, apparently realizing that it was a stupid risk to drive home in her condition. Nick helped her get into his truck, and when her fingers fumbled with the seatbelt, he took over and buckled it for her. Harley waited patiently for his turn, and Nick opened the door for him. “We’ve got company tonight,” Nick whispered. “Be on your best behavior.” The dog smiled his approval. He couldn’t think of anything better than to be riding in a truck with his two favorite people. Jamie leaned her head against the passenger window. Nick thought she’d fallen asleep until she commented, “Austin is really pretty at night.” The city was small compared to Houston or Dallas, but it had an interesting skyline with artistically designed buildings whose lights made them stand out against the night sky. And then, of course, there was the grand dome of the state Capitol and the colorful UT tower. “Do you get into Austin often?” Nick asked. “Not really. And hardly ever at night since Mike…” Her voice trailed off. “It’s grown a lot in three years.” “Lots of changes,” Nick agreed. “Yes…changes.” She grew quiet again, but he could see that her eyes were open. Apparently she was deep in her own thoughts. They pulled into his driveway. Nick hurried around to Jamie’s side so she wouldn’t fall while getting out. Gail was out in her yard, watering her plants. She scowled when she saw Nick’s obviously inebriated date and grew even more angry when Harley jumped down. “Is that your bitchy neighbor?” Jamie asked, her voice way too loud. “That’s her,” Nick answered in a much lower tone, and hustled Jamie inside before she could ignite a response. Jamie looked around his house, wandering from room to room. “Nice,” she finally said. “Cozy. And you’re not a pig.” “Thanks…I think.” Nick followed her around, not sure what to do next. He wished he’d vacuumed today, but he didn’t really like clutter, so his place was usually pretty orderly. “Why don’t I make some coffee?” he suggested. “I’d rather have another margarita.” He had some tequila, but the last thing she needed was another alcoholic drink. As much as

he hated to pick up dog poop, he hated cleaning up vomit even more. Without answering her, he went to the kitchen and put on a pot of coffee. He watched for her to return to the living room, but when she didn’t, he got concerned and went to find her. She was lying on his bed. Her clothes were scattered around the room, and she was on top of his bedspread, totally naked. “I’ve missed you,” she said, and patted the pillow next to her. Nick’s body reacted immediately. His dick had never been very smart or particularly sensitive to a woman’s emotional condition. Even as his erection pushed for freedom against the confining denim of his jeans, he hesitated. She was beautiful, all soft skin and delicious curves. His gaze longingly caressed her from the top of her long, silky hair spilling over her shoulders and onto the pillow, down to her full breasts with their pouting pink nipples, along her concave abdomen and tight reddish gold curls, then down the shapely length of her legs to her pink-polished toes. He wanted her more than he’d ever wanted anything in his whole life. And if she’d been anyone other than Jamie, he would have considered ignoring his gentlemanly conscience and taking her up on her offer. But now that he was faced with the opportunity, he knew he couldn’t take advantage of her in this condition. He had true feelings for this woman. Yes, he wanted to make love to her. But it was important that she want him because she cared about him, not just because she was tequila-horny. “I’ve got to walk Harley. The coffee will be ready when I get back. Okay?” She moved sensuously, trying to lure him closer. “Hurry,” she breathed huskily. Nick fled the room. He would definitely be laughed out of the man club if any of his buddies ever found out about this. He whistled for Harley, snapped his leash back on, and left the house. He was relieved that Gail was inside her place. Her front drapes were open, and he could see her sitting in her living room, watching TV. If he cared about her safety, he would have told her that was a stupid thing for a woman living alone to do. But right now he was more concerned with trying to walk off his hard-on. Luckily the park was almost empty, so he didn’t have to make inane conversation while Harley picked a spot. Nick wavered between staying away from Jamie tonight and giving in to his needs and fucking her brains out. He hadn’t had any reservations when their relationship had been well defined as just sexual gratification. Now that they had moved to the next stage —whatever the fuck that was—it was more personal. Emotions were involved…at least, his were. Holy shit! He couldn’t believe he had let it happen. He had fallen in love with Jamie. Being a man who had never believed in love, he had no idea what to do next. Should he tell her? Would she laugh at him? Would she run away? Would she feel sorry for him? Or did she have genuine feelings for him? He honestly had no clue. She had said she missed him. But after five margaritas her judgment was questionable. He was cold sober. He had no excuse. Nick had just walked back into his house when his phone pinged, indicating he’d received a text. He selected the “messages” icon and read the text with a different kind of excitement

than he had felt with Jamie earlier. It was from Veritably, and it said simply: 1548 w 35 st unit 1. He hurried into the bedroom to tell Jamie, but she was sound asleep. As tempting as it was to stare at her naked perfection, he had a job to do. He took a light blanket out of the closet and spread it over her, then jotted a quick note in case she woke up before he got back, explaining that he shouldn’t be gone long. “Harley, you stay here and watch her,” he told the dog, who was torn between his desire to go with his man and his concern for the woman on the bed. Nick figured that since this wasn’t going to be a search issue, it would be better to leave Harley here and not risk him getting in the way should things get crazy. In spite of his good intentions, he couldn’t resist dropping a kiss on Jamie’s cheek. They would have plenty of time to talk when he got home.

Chapter 15 It was a few minutes after eleven when Nick parked in front of a small twelve-unit apartment building. It was split into sections of four units with the number of each attached to its front door. There were no lights on in any of the units in the first section, and he rechecked the text on his phone. “Unit one,” Nick mumbled. He called Bobbi. “You awake?” “No.” There was the sound of someone fumbling around, then the click of a lamp switch. “Nick?” “I need a search warrant for a suspected loosie lab. I’ll text you the address.” “I’ll meet you there.” There was a moment of silence. “Don’t screw this one up.” “I’m touched by your vote of confidence.” He heard the phone disconnect. After sending her the address, he slid down on the front seat, where he wouldn’t be noticed, to wait for the warrant and more warm bodies with badges and guns. He kept watch on the entire strip of apartments to be sure no one exited or entered. After thirty minutes his gaze remained focused, but his mind wandered back to the naked woman in his bed. The image was burned into his brain and was strong enough to make him have to squirm in his seat. He’d thought he could settle for being a boy toy, and no one was more surprised than he was that sex wasn’t always enough. Yes, he wanted her body, but he also wanted her heart. The loud sound of a metal flashlight tapping briskly on the driver’s-side window caused him to jump out of his reverie and almost hit his head on the ceiling panel. Shit! Harley would have warned him. “You awake?” Bobbi asked sarcastically. Nick got out of his truck and looked down at his pants. “You got a minute? I need to change my underwear,” he joked. Bobbi’s surprise appearance had successfully deflated his penis to an acceptable size. “Let’s do this.” “It’s the end one on the left. I’ve seen no sign of life in there. Is the manager showing up?” Bobbi glanced at her watch. “She should be here any minute.” Nick took his bulletproof vest out of the backseat, buckled it on, and pulled a black windbreaker over it. Bobbi was already suited up and ready to go. A car pulled into the lot and parked next to their vehicles. An older lady in an oversized velour jogging suit straight from the eighties got out and schlepped her way in house slippers to where they were standing. She held her hand out. “Warrant?” Bobbi placed it in her open palm. The manager put on a pair of reading glasses, opened the paper, and scanned it. “Looks good. I see several of these every month, but I can’t be too careful, you know.” She handed it back and gave them a key. “Try not to break anything or knock holes in the walls. Lock it up when you’re done and leave the key under the mat when you leave. I’m going back to bed.”

She shuffled back to her car and drove off just as a military personnel carrier and two police cars, with lights off, pulled up in front of the complex. They parked in random fashion along the street, and immediately ten officers in full gear piled out of the back of the carrier and four more from the patrol cars. Without speaking or making any sound, they split and filtered around the building, surrounding it on all four sides. Nick pocketed the key. No one would be using that tonight. He and Bobbi waited in front until hand signals had relayed around the building that everyone was in place. The team leader nodded, and the two largest men leveled the front door with the first swing of their battering ram. Several police officers scrambled over the shattered door. “Police! Drop your weapons! On the floor now!” The officer spoke in a commanding voice loud enough to carry outside. “They’re running,” he shouted. That was followed by the boom of a concussion grenade, commonly called a flashbang because it not only temporarily blinded anyone in the room who looked at it but also deafened and disoriented them. The force was so strong that, even outside, Nick felt the concussion waves radiating out before he regained his momentum and rushed into the building. The air was filled with smoke, and there was the sound of scrambling feet and the thud of bodies running into each other and the walls in their haste to get out. Then came the staccato sound of an automatic weapon. Something slammed into Nick’s chest, knocking him back a couple of steps. He whirled and fired in the direction of the sound and was rewarded by a grunt of pain and a thud as dead weight hit the wood floor. More gunfire followed until he heard the all-clear shouted from a back room. A round of all-clears echoed through the small apartment until the police were satisfied that there were no more stragglers hiding out. Nick coughed as the cloud of gunpowder dissipated across the living room and hallway. He realized he was having trouble catching his breath. He looked down and saw a bullet embedded in his Kevlar vest in the middle of his chest. He slid his hand under the vest and winced as his fingers discovered the impact site. His skin didn’t feel wet, but it was definitely bruised. In the excitement of the raid, he had barely noticed it, but now that things were settling down, it hurt like hell. “All clear,” the sergeant yelled from the back of the house. Bobbi came up behind him. “Everyone okay?” The sergeant returned to the living room and confirmed with a military response. “Tenfour, ma’am. One perp dead. He was on the toilet. Instead of wiping his ass, he pulled a pistol out from his pants and started firing. There’s another perp in the hall with a bullet in his gut and four others in the back bedroom on the floor. We caught them trying to escape out the back. They’re all cuffed.” “Good job, Sergeant,” Bobbi said. “This went down quick….” Nick hesitated. “It was too easy.” It just didn’t feel right to him. “No vehicles in the front or back. What do you make of it?” the sergeant asked. “They’re probably running a taxi service so no one can identify their vehicles. I’ll check the car-rental joints.” Nick headed toward the bedroom and had to step over the legs of the fallen perp who had shot him. The man was bleeding profusely from a hole in his stomach, to which

one of the officers was applying pressure to keep the man alive until the paramedics arrived. The man was cuffed, even in his apparent incapacitation. “Hey, Nick,” a SWAT officer called out as soon as Nick walked into the bedroom. “Lenny? You still doing this shit?” Nick greeted his old friend. They’d served in the military together but had gone in different directions when they went into law enforcement. “It’s a great job for us adrenaline junkies.” He frowned at Nick. “At least I don’t have a bullet in my chest.” “Yeah, I stopped it before it could hurt someone.” “You’re a real superhero,” Lenny teased. “Where’s your cape?” Nick answered in a loud whisper, “It’s a secret. Don’t spread it around.” Then he turned to the four prisoners who were sitting cross-legged on the floor. “Hey, fellows, miss your limo ride tonight?” The four men, all in their twenties, wore faded and torn T-shirts and jeans, not because it was a fashion statement but because they were all poor and desperate. They ducked their heads, trying to avoid eye contact. “I suspect you know why you got busted tonight?” Nick looked at each one but got no reaction. He hadn’t expected one. “We know this isn’t your shit, but you should know that before sundown tomorrow, you’ll be charged with four counts of murder of college students who used your product.” One of the kids, the only one with light-colored hair, jerked his head back as if being physically hit when he heard the news of the murder charges. Nick looked at him out of the corner of his eyes. “Blondie!” The kid jumped. “Let’s talk.” Nick walked back down the hall to the front of the apartment while Lenny jerked the kid to his feet and half dragged, half walked him to the kitchen. “Sit down, Blondie.” Nick pulled out a chair, and Lenny gave the kid a push that landed his ass on the seat. “I want my lawyer,” the kid whimpered. His voice quivered and Nick knew he had the right pawn. “Can’t do that. What’s your name?” Nick sat across from the kid. His eyes darted around the room, seeking an ally. He repeated, more loudly this time. “I want a lawyer.” “I’m going to guess you’re not a law student…Dickshit. I’ll call you that until you decide to tell me your name. You’re not under arrest…yet…so you don’t need a lawyer.” “Then let me go, asshole.” “Can’t do that either.” Nick looked pointedly around the room where the crime-scene techs were photographing and wrapping up the chemicals and equipment for transport to the station. “There’s a lot of shit here that we have to analyze. That could take months. Which means I can keep you for a while…you know, just to talk. Then, after that, if you want to leave, you can. I just hope you know some guys you can hire for protection.” Nervously the kid repeated, “Protection? I don’t need protection.”

Nick shook his head and shrugged. “You’re probably right, Dickshit. No one will be able to keep you alive once your boss finds out we’ve captured this lab…and that you’ve been talking.” The kid’s blue eyes widened in horror. “But I’m not talking.” “That’s sort of our word against yours, isn’t it? And I can guarantee that within an hour after I drop you off at the jail, your boss is going to get word that you spilled the beans on everyone.” The kid considered his options for a moment, then stated, “I didn’t murder those kids.” “No one’s going to believe you, kid. You see, you’ve got the deadly chemical on your hands.” Nick was just bluffing because, at this point in the investigation, he couldn’t be sure this was the lab that was producing the poisonous loosies. But Dickshit was buying it, so Nick kept going. “Juries don’t like kid killers. And your fellow inmates aren’t going to treat you very well either.” He paused before adding, “Have you ever had a boyfriend, Dickshit? If not, you might want to get your ass stretched out before you get to prison. I’ve heard that keeps you from getting all torn up during your initiation.” The kid’s frightened eyes filled with tears. “Carl…my name’s Carl.” “Who hired you?” Carl looked up like a beaten puppy. “No idea…no names. We just call him Driver. He picks us up downtown in a van…a different one each time…and drops us off at a house or apartment. All the stuff is waiting for us, and we cook until it’s all used up.” “How do you know it’s time to go to work?” “He calls us.” “Show me.” Carl tried to reach his back pocket but couldn’t with his hands cuffed. One of the crimescene techs, who was wearing gloves, carefully pulled a small flip phone out of Carl’s hip pocket. Nick put on a pair of gloves, took the phone from the tech, and examined the call log. There weren’t any numbers on it, just blocked calls. Maybe the crime lab had a way to get past that. “This looks like a new phone,” Nick commented. “We get cash and exchange phones every time he picks us up.” “How about a description?” “We never see him. There’s a black curtain separating the cab from the back, and we’re always in the back. The vans always have dark, tinted windows too.” “What does he sound like?” Nick persisted. Carl shrugged. “Just normal, dude. No accent, nothing to make me think he’s Hispanic or Asian or anything in particular.” These answers were getting nowhere, and Nick’s chest was hurting like a son of a bitch. The sergeant walked back into the room, and Nick stood up. “Let’s book these guys. Manufacturing, possession, distribution, trafficking…attempted murder of a police officer… Keep their asses locked up for a few days.” “Wait…what about me?” Carl asked, his voice high-pitched with panic. “Sergeant, be sure Carl gets an ocean-view room and VIP service downtown,” Nick said as

he and Bobbi headed toward the front door. “I need protection…fucker.” Carl’s screams and pleas followed Nick outside. Back at his truck, Nick leaned on it and tried to clear his nose without coughing or sneezing, which was too painful. “So, you think this is the one?” Bobbi asked. “Yes…maybe…hopefully. At least you can tell the governor that we caught the minions in the act. Should slow down distribution for at least a week.” Bobbi nodded and walked back toward her car. “Hey, Nick,” one of the crime-scene techs said as he lugged his toolbox from his van. Nick glanced at his name tag. “Leroy? Long time, man.” “Yeah. So what’s the deal? Want anything special?” “Do your usual. Make sure to swab all the dirty dishes and glasses in the sink. And be sure and swab the cooks before they get their free, all-inclusive trip downtown.” “Got it. Nice souvenir.” Leo stared at the bullet buried in Nick’s vest, then took out a pair of tweezers and a small paper bag. “I need that…for evidence.” “Help yourself.” Leo leaned closer and carefully plucked the bullet out of its Kevlar bed. He dropped it in the bag and rolled it shut. “Can you put a rush on all this?” Nick asked. “I know you hear that from everyone, but we’re right on this bastard’s heels, and I don’t want to lose the momentum.” “I’ll try,” Leo promised, and returned the tweezers to his kit and tucked the bag in an outside pocket. Nick knew that was the best he could hope for. “Thanks. Take good care of my bullet. It’s my first.” “Never been shot before?” “Some shrapnel in ’Stan, but nothing on the job,” Nick answered. He opened his door and started to get in, then remembered the key in his pocket. He pulled it out, walked back to the apartment, which was now bustling with activity, and slipped the key under the mat. “Someone’s not getting their deposit back,” he said with a satisfied chuckle. They might not have caught the big cheese tonight, but they had certainly punched a hole in his organization. And one of those cooks might let something slip. The small street was crowded with law-enforcement equipment, and Nick had to work his way through it to hit a main street that would take him home. Once he was inside the townhouse, Harley greeted him enthusiastically, and Nick rubbed the dog’s head. “You didn’t miss out on anything tonight.” In fact, Nick was glad Harley hadn’t gone along because he could have caught a bullet too—and Harley didn’t have a vest. Yet. Nick made a mental note to order him one for the next time they did fieldwork. Nick carefully pulled his vest off and dropped it on the couch, then pulled his shirt up to see the damage. The skin wasn’t broken, but the point of impact was dark red, indicating a deep bruise that would turn all shades of purple in the next few days. After the night he’d had, Nick had halfway convinced himself that having Jamie naked in

his bed was some sort of dream. But as he stood in the doorway, she was still there. The blanket was still across the middle of her body, but her legs and arms were sprawled on top of the comforter. In that instant he decided that he needed a nice, long cold shower if he was going to make it through the night with his good intentions. He stripped and tossed his dirty clothes in the hamper. The shower washed the dirt and sweat away, but it also calmed down his libido. As he dried off, he decided to get a pillow and blanket out of his bedroom and sleep on the couch. There was no way he could sleep in the bed with her without his penis finding its way inside her. He wrapped the towel around his waist and went back into the dark bedroom. Jamie was using one of the pillows, so he reached across her to get the other one. To his surprise, he felt the towel drop to the floor and her fingers wrap around his dick. “You’re back,” she whispered. “This is a really big bed.” She stroked his dick, and he swelled in her hand. “I need you, Nick.” Well, shit. He wasn’t made of stone. He dropped the pillow back on the bed and climbed on top of her. “Yes…yes…” She exhaled a soft sigh as his lips closed around one of her nipples. Her grip tightened and she continued to caress his cock. He didn’t want to pull out of her hand, but even more than feeling her touch, he wanted to taste her. His mouth trailed kisses down her stomach until his face was buried between her legs. He lapped at the swollen bud of her womanhood while his fingers slipped in and out. She moaned and thrashed about, driven to the brink quickly by his focused assault. He continued until she cried out, her fingers buried in his hair and her hips arched off the bed. When she finally collapsed, exhausted from the intensity, her fingers released their hold. Nick moved up until his head was on the pillow next to hers. She levered up until she was looking into his eyes. A slow, sexy smile stretched her lips. “Now it’s your turn,” she whispered, her breath hot against his skin as she slid down his body. He gasped as her mouth closed around his dick. Her hands cupped and squeezed his balls as her lips moved up and down his hardened length. Her tongue teased his sensitive flesh, and her mouth provided an erotic friction until he could hold back no longer. Thoroughly sated, they curled up in each other’s arms and fell asleep. Sunshine slipping through the blinds and penetrating his eyelids, combined with a cold, wet nose thrust against the small of his back, brought Nick wide awake. He reached for Jamie, but her side of the bed was empty. He could smell the delicious scent of bacon and eggs cooking and deduced she was in the kitchen. Damn, he hadn’t even known he had any bacon. Nick stretched, then groaned when he flexed his chest muscles. He glanced down at the brilliantly colored bruise in the center of his chest. Shit, he couldn’t let Jamie see that. Harley was waiting patiently next to the bed. “I’ll take you out in a minute,” Nick promised. He stood and went to his bureau, where he pulled out a T-shirt and a pair of jogging shorts. He had just put on the shorts and was lifting the shirt over his head when he heard a gasp. “My God,” Jamie breathed in horror. Her gaze was focused on the damage to his chest. In

her hands was his vest. “Just another night on the job, right?” She tossed the jacket on the bed. “I’m fine. Just a little bruise…” Nick jerked the shirt on to cover the evidence. “I’ll call a cab to take me back to my car,” she said as she looked around the room for her shoes. “Don’t make this harder than it is. I’ll text you the name of another trainer.” She found one shoe but couldn’t find the other. Frustrated, she stuffed the one shoe into her purse and ran out of the room barefoot. Nick ran after her. “Don’t go. Let’s talk about this.” “I lov— I really like you, Nick. But I can’t be around to watch you die. I’ve been through that…and I can’t do it again.” “I’m not going to….” She gave Harley a hug, then yanked the door open. “Your bacon is burning,” she said as she left, and pulled the door shut behind her. — The pain in her chest was so severe she thought she might be having a heart attack. She sat in the back of the cab, her fists balled against her lungs, and tried not to cry. Not here…not now. There would be time for that when she was alone in her room. She transferred from the cab to her car at the restaurant, then drove home, biting her lip all the way to keep her mind focused on the road. Once back at Woof Gang, there were the morning chores to distract her. One thing led to another, and it was after dark before she was ready to slip away. Jared must have sensed something was wrong because he surprised her by making spaghetti and meatballs for dinner. Food was the last thing on her mind, but this was such a rare event that she couldn’t turn him down. She noted that he had even taken time to clean the house…or at least throw away the trash and put his clothes and boots away. As they ate, she told her brother about the great contacts she had made at the police conference, and he was genuinely excited at the prospect of new contracts. Jamie noticed Jared was smiling more lately and was a lot more talkative. He’d been going into town a lot more too. Could there be a woman in his life? Jamie hoped so. He was a great guy, and after all he’d been through, he deserved a break. But he didn’t talk about it, and she didn’t ask. He would tell her when he wanted her to know. And of course she didn’t share anything that had happened between her and Nick. If anything had come of their “friendship,” she would have told Jared. Now that it was really and truly over, there was no need to ever mention it. That thought brought back the ache to her heart, and she felt her throat tighten. She knew she was dangerously close to tears, but she fought them back. Not here…not now. A half hour later, after she’d shooed Jared off to the living room to take off his artificial legs while she cleaned up the kitchen, Jamie was finally able to drag herself out to the kennel, lock her door, and fall across her bed. She had showered before dinner, so all she had to do was brush her teeth and change into the oversized soft cotton T-shirt she wore to sleep in. But once on her bed, she couldn’t muster enough energy to do even that. Her body ached

all over like she had the flu. The little twin bed that had required her and Nick to cling together like spoons to keep from tumbling off now seemed too big…and lonely. It was just like the first night after Mike died. She had had no hope of ever feeling love or happiness again. For her there would be no life after love ended. Then along had come Nick…wisecracking, smart-ass Nick, who had been around the block more times than he could count. In spite of being a bit of a rogue, he loved his job and wasn’t likely to quit or move on to something safer. It was just a matter of time until a bullet missed his vest and buried itself in his skull or nicked his femoral artery and he bled to death, or someone stabbed him in the neck with a knife, or any number of grisly, fatal scenarios. Jamie had been determined not to let her heart get involved. The sex was good….Hell, it was explosive. But as spectacular as it was, that was not what had made her start to care about Nick. It was the discovery that beneath that rough exterior was a gentle, caring soul. When he played with his kids or talked to his grandmother or slipped Harley scraps when he didn’t think anyone was watching, she could see that this big, tough man was, at his core, a softie. He didn’t hesitate to risk his life to take down a drug dealer or to save a kid he didn’t even know. His swagger disguised a vulnerability and a heart as big as Texas. Good God…she had fallen in love with him! She loved his twinkling eyes, his crooked grin, his deep chuckle that vibrated through her when she was snuggled against his chest. She loved how strong his arms were and how safe she felt with him. She loved the way he treated her and looked at her and made her purr. She loved him. There was life after love. There was even love after love. Her feelings for Mike had been strong. He would always be her first love. They had been young and giddy…all hearts and flowers. But what she felt for Nick was different. He was solid and confident and, most of all, supportive. He made her feel smart and special and oh, so beautiful. Not that he had ever given her even the tiniest hint that he loved her. For all she knew, he could still be 100 percent committed to the friends-with-benefits plan. He had mentioned several times that he would never marry again and had no interest in a serious relationship. Jamie massaged her throbbing temples. She knew the relationship had to be over. She knew she had said that before and, at the time, she had meant it. But learning that he had pulled strings to get her into the convention had softened her resolve. Then sitting next to him at the restaurant brought back a rush of emotions that she had tried to drown with margaritas. She couldn’t blame it on being drunk because she hadn’t been so far gone that she wasn’t aware that she was in his home and in his bed. She had wanted him to hold her and make love to her and to tell her that he loved her and wanted her to stay. And he had held her and made love to her, but there had been no professions or promises. It was their agreement, exactly what she had wanted…and exactly what she had received. The bigger issue, of course, was that he was a cop. He didn’t wear a uniform or the same badge as Mike, but he was in basically the same profession. And bottom line, she couldn’t bear the thought of burying another man she loved. So this time, it was truly the end. Yes, it would hurt and it would take her a long while to get over him. But it would hurt far less to cut all ties now than to fall more deeply in love with

him and have him break her heart by leaving her or, worse, by being killed. She had been holding it in all day, but finally the tears began to flow. She curled into a ball on top of her comforter and sobbed. She cried for Mike…for Nick…for herself…for love lost and for love that could have been. The time was now….The place was here. She was all alone.

Chapter 16 Nick knocked on the door of the CSI supervisor’s office. “We meeting in here or the conference room?” “Conference room,” she replied. “Be there in a minute.” Nick and Harley continued down the hall to the conference room at the end. Ten oversized executive chairs encircled a large wooden table. As usual, Nick chose a chair with his back to the wall, and Harley stretched out next to him. “Okay, you ready to go?” Sharon, her arms filled with files, entered the room and took the chair across from Nick. “Expecting a big crowd today?” he asked. “No, it’s you and me. I just need to get out of my office, you know? I’m not adjusted to being here all day, every day.” “I get that. Two hours a week is about it for me.” “And is this the infamous Harley I’ve heard so much about?” “Yes, but he’s just out of rehab for his strawberry addiction.” Sharon chuckled. “Well, here’s what we’ve got.” She set the files on the table, picked up the first one, and slid it across to Nick. “These are the five kids who were the cooks in the lab last night. The one with the death notice is the one who died last night. Good news is we’ve got their fingerprints everywhere.” Nick glanced through the file, spending a moment on each picture and the perp’s background. He glanced over the death certificate of the one who had died. “This is the dude on the john. What about the guy I shot?” “He’ll live. He’s still at University Medical.” “Is he the one who shot me?” “We haven’t run a ballistics test, but his gun was the same caliber as the bullet in your vest.” “Can I have a copy of this file?” “This is your copy. You can take it with you.” Sharon slid a second file to Nick. “The governor’s personal aide walked the DNA sample through the state lab last night. Here are the preliminary results.” Nick flipped through the file quickly, then stopped and pointed at a notation. “So there was one more person there after all.” “We didn’t find his fingerprints on anything, but he apparently drank something because we picked up his DNA on a glass that was in the sink. We couldn’t match it to anyone in our files, but the lab is running his DNA against the national database. It could take a few days or it could be a dead end. If he’s been arrested before, we’ll learn his identity.” Nick slapped the table. “Dickshit lied to me. He said they’d never seen the boss.”

Sharon didn’t look surprised but did offer an option. “He could have been in the apartment before anyone else arrived…you know, to set it up or to drop off the materials.” “Maybe.” Nick grudgingly accepted it as a possibility. “I’ll let you know the minute we get a hit,” Sharon promised. She picked up a third folder and held it out to Nick. “Here’s the lab analysis of the product they were making. They dipped it in a chlorine ammonia solution.” Nick’s eyes bulged. “So the kids were smoking and breathing chlorine gas?” “Looks like it.” “But why?” Nick was struggling to understand why a person would intentionally add poison to a product, then sell it to kids. “It packs a powerful punch…makes you light-headed, melancholic. This guy just has no quality control, so some loosies are poisoned but not deadly, and others are loaded. It’s like Russian roulette. Want to read the report?” Nick held his hands up. “No más, amigo….No speak chemistry.” “Your Spanish didn’t get better in Mexico, did it?” Sharon smiled. “Too busy running.” He pushed back from the table and picked up his file. “Text me as soon as you find out this bastard’s identity.” Nick pointed to her and stood up. “You’ll be the first to know….Bye, Harley. Take good care of your handler.” “Thanks. Come on, Harley.” Harley jumped up and shook as he stood next to Nick, ears perked and ready to go. They stopped to say hello to Bobbi, who was very pleased that she had been able to give the governor a promising report. Nick considered going to the jail and having another chat with his new best friend, Carl. But he was hungry. His bacon had, indeed, burned to a crisp. Harley hadn’t minded and gobbled it down, but Nick had skipped breakfast. He’d tried to catch Jamie and followed her out to the curb. She’d called Uber, and the driver must have been just down the street because he got there in record time. Before Nick could stop her, she’d jumped inside the car, slammed the door, and urged the driver to go. Nick absently rubbed his chest. The pain was deeper than just the bruise. He still didn’t believe in love, but he had to admit that his feelings for Jamie were stronger than for anyone else he’d ever dated. He would have fought for her if he’d thought he had a chance…but when his competition was a ghost, he accepted that it was a hopeless cause. “In you go, boy.” Nick held the truck door open and Harley jumped into the backseat. Nick exited the garage and drove straight to a surface lot near Sixth Street. He had class today, and he wanted to grab some lunch first. He got a firm hold on Harley’s leash and boldly walked through the doors and into the Jackalope. Nick took his favorite stool and gave Harley a stern look. “Harley, down, boy,” he ordered, and Harley slid under the stool next to his. “Well, look who showed up!” “Hey, Gina. How you doing?” “Me? Heard you took a heart shot last night.” She frowned with genuine concern as she tossed a coaster on the bar. “Iced tea for now. Where did you hear it was a heart shot?”

“Someone came in earlier and was talking about a raid last night.” Nick perked up. “Was it a cop?” He couldn’t believe any of the law-enforcement officers involved in the raid had been loose lipped about what went down. “No, I don’t think so. He wasn’t in uniform.” Nick placed all five pictures on the bar and turned them toward Gina. “Have you ever seen any of these guys before?” Gina picked up each picture and examined it for moment. “I don’t think so. Which one died?” Nick scooped up the pictures and put them back in the folder. “Shit, you know more about it than half the guys that were there.” “I’m a bartender.” “Well, bring me a cheeseburger and fries. And don’t forget my iced tea.” “Have I ever screwed up your order?” She left without waiting for an answer, because, of course, she already knew the answer would be no. In a moment she was back with a large glass of tea. “Sugar?” “Four.” She reached under the bar and delivered four packets. As she leaned over, she caught sight of Harley. “You’d better keep him out of sight. My boss is still trying to get the bar-back not to sue us.” “Want me to convince him?” Nick offered. “Oh, right. I’m sure intimidating him would do a lot of good. It’s your dog who caused all this.” “Relax. He’s been trained not to react to strawberries. He passed a daiquiri test last night.” “Trained, huh?” Gina rested her elbows on the bar and leaned forward. “How is Jamie, anyway?” Nick added the sugar and stirred with a swizzle stick he had lifted from the container on the other side of the bar. “Working…dog training. That’s about it.” “Dog training? You mean Jamie training,” she accused. Nick’s mood darkened. Fuck, how long would it be before just hearing her name stopped making his heart ache? “She’s back at her ranch. I guess you could say she moved on.” “From you?” Gina scoffed. “What’s wrong with her?” “She doesn’t like cops. I guess the bullet in my vest was a wake-up call for her.” “Too bad. You’re a nice guy.” “Don’t spread that around. It’ll ruin my reputation.” A runner from the kitchen brought his hamburger and fries. Without being asked, Gina got a bottle of ketchup and the salt and pepper shakers and set them in front of him. Nick doctored his food up, then lifted the big burger to his mouth and took a bite. “These guys in the pictures, they’re the ones killing the kids?” Gina asked. “I don’t think so. They’re only the cooks. We’re still looking for the boss.” “What do you have so far?”

“Between us?” Nick leaned forward and beckoned her to come closer. “Ask the snitch who’s been feeding you all this shit about me.” He leaned back. For a few seconds Gina was flabbergasted, then she smiled. “Touché! I hope you catch the jerk. If I hear anything, I’ll let you know. You’re my favorite badge.” “I’d appreciate it.” Nick finished his meal and pulled a twenty out of his money clip. “I gotta go.” She pushed the money back to him. “This one’s on the house. You’ve had a stretch of bad luck.” “Shit, if I’d known that’s what it took, I’d have been eating here for free since 2009.” He pushed the twenty back. “Keep it as a tip. I depend on you for all my news.” She pocketed the cash with a smile. Nick handed the last bite of hamburger to Harley, tightened his hold on the leash, and left. He was all the way to the street in front of the media building when he thought, Fuck it, I’m going to ditch class today. He didn’t want to hang out with Bane and the others, wasting hours on the porch talking about life, politics, and love through the eyes of twenty-one-yearolds. On some level he envied them for their youth and innocence, and on another level he never wanted to be that naive and gullible again. From his experience when he had gone to college, many students soaked in whatever bullshit their professors shoveled out and never questioned the logic or truth in what they heard. He just wasn’t in the mood for scholarly philosophy today. What he needed was a heavy dose of family support. An hour later he pulled up at Grammy’s old farmhouse. Harley had recognized the turn off the county road and was pacing from side to side in the backseat, as anxious as Nick was to get there. Grammy was on the front porch, sitting on a rocker, her feet propped up on the railing. A cloud of bluish white smoke hung around her head in the still late-afternoon air. Nick parked his pickup and opened the rear door for Harley to jump out. He stood there, dancing around, waiting for his man to give him the word. He was too well trained to take off without permission. “Go play, Harley. You’re always off duty here,” Nick said, and the dog bolted around to the back of the house in search of rabbits. Nick walked up the creaky wooden steps until he joined Grammy on the porch. “How cool is this? An unexpected visit. Glad to see you, Nicky!” Grammy leaned forward, and Nick gave her a hug before sitting down on the chair next to her. “What brings you out here on a Thursday?” she asked bluntly. “I’ve had a crappy week.” “You look like you could use a drag or three. No one can see you.” “Can’t, Grammy. They test, and it would be my job. Right now that’s all I’ve got going for me.” “There’s beer in the fridge.” Nick went into the house and returned with two beers and a bottle of Jack. He took a generous shot, then another, and followed them with most of the first can of beer. “To each his own,” Grammy commented, and took a drag of her joint. Harley ran up onto

the porch and dropped down next to Grammy, panting in exhaustion. “Hey, Harley.” She leaned over and petted him. “Tell me, what’s wrong with your daddy?” Nick sighed. “Jamie fired us…I mean me.” “Fired? I thought you two weren’t together anymore.” “Well, we weren’t, then we were, but now we’re not.” “What did you do?” Nick finished his first beer and opened the second. He didn’t even bother asking why his grandmother assumed it was his fault. She’d known him too long…through the good, the bad, and the ugly of his teenage years and early adulthood. “Jamie’s a police widow, Grammy. I can’t guarantee I won’t make her a widow a second time. All she wanted was the sex, but then even that wasn’t enough.” “Well, I don’t know if you’re good in bed or not, but that would never be enough. There’s an old song that says to love the one you’re with. But that applies when you have no one else you care to love or who loves you.” Nick looked at Grammy, completely confused. “What the hell does that have to do with anything?” She took another deep drag. “This just happened, didn’t it?” “How did you know?” “You’ve always acted immediately whenever something bad happened. How many times did you get into trouble when you were a little boy because you stormed off and did something without thinking first?” Nick nodded his acceptance of that truth. “Too many. I’m really too bummed for a lecture right now.” “No lecture. Just something to think about. That song is about loving someone who is available, not someone who you love or who makes your heart beat faster.” “So?” “It’s about thinking with your heart and not your dick. Is that how you want the rest of your life to go? Loving the one who is available?” Nick poured another shot and downed it. “Look, your first wife, what’s-her-name, gave you two wonderful sons, but she wasn’t the love of your life. She was just the one who was available at that time. I think it’s totally different with Jamie. I saw the way you looked at her.” Nick exhaled, his lips puckering as the liquor and her words began to sink into his brain. “For me, being in love—and I’ve been there a number of times—was always with someone I didn’t want to live without…but they were never available. That’s why I’m seventy-six years old and fucking alone.” She sucked in, held the smoke for a few seconds, then exhaled slowly. “So Nick, two questions.” “How do you get so logical on that stuff?” Nick waved her exhaled smoke away. The last thing he needed was a contact high. “Quit being such a prude. Listen, first you need to ask yourself, is Jamie someone you have to have in your life?”

Nick sat back and absently petted Harley’s head as he contemplated her question. “I see myself differently when I’m with her. My sons are more interesting. Harley makes me laugh. I’m a deeper, more thoughtful man. I actually care about her happiness.” Another cloud of smoke drifted between them as she exhaled slowly. “I’ve never heard you so introspective, Nicky. I think you’re right. So here’s the second and much more difficult question. You will never win against her dead husband. That’s not the hill to die on…and you will die if you try to replace him or make her forget him. The question is, are you the man who can love her so much that she’s willing to risk the possibility of losing you just so she can be with you as long as you’re still alive?” “Still alive?” This conversation was not making him feel any better so far. “Look at it from her point of view. You are in a dangerous line of work, and you may not make it home. Unless you’re willing to give it up and start selling insurance, it’s a part of you. Your challenge is to make her realize that life with you, however short, is better than life without you.” Nick nodded. “I get it. But how do I do that?” “This is where I need to go get another bag.” Grammy stood and went into her house. When she returned, she reached into her baggie and lit up again. She drew in and exhaled before speaking thoughtfully. “You have to establish new traditions, places to go, new friends, your own song….You know, things unique to just you and her. Keep her dead husband’s memory clean in her mind. You don’t use his tools, wear his clothes, or make love to her in his bed. You’re not the ghost of her first husband….You’re Nick Archer, the keeper of things she must have in her life to be happy.” Grammy drew in again and the smoke curled over her wrinkled lips and toward Nick, who by now didn’t bother swatting it away. “In other words…I have to make her believe that it’s okay to love again after love?” Grammy glanced over and smiled. “Couldn’t have said it better myself!” “The only problem is that it’s all a moot point now,” Nick said. “Jamie probably won’t even take my calls.” “She’s just running scared. Let her realize how much she misses you, then she’ll come back.” “You have more faith in me than I do.” She reached over and squeezed his hand. “Honey, I always have. Staying the night?” Nick looked down at the half-empty bottle of Jack. “Guess I should.” “Good. I’m starving. I’ve got some of the neighbor’s chicken wings to bake up. Blue ribbon winner!”

Chapter 17 There was a poster of the DeLorean from Back to the Future on one wall and a Mad Max poster on another. A bookshelf had a variety of books from the Hardy Boys mysteries to Lonesome Dove to Pet Sematary to Patriot Games. Nick had never been a voracious reader like his older brother, Justin, but he’d managed to read a couple of books each summer. He and his brothers had spent a lot of time here at Grammy’s when school was out because both of their parents worked full time. Plus, all three brothers loved spending time at the farm. Grammy always gave them each a month when she focused on them individually. As anyone would guess, Grammy wasn’t a harsh disciplinarian. But she insisted the boys read at least one book, write one poem or song, and complete one art project. Luke was the poet, Justin, the reader, and Nick had discovered a talent for art. Some of his paintings still hung on the walls of this house. He lay on the narrow twin bed that his six-foot frame no longer fit and looked at a charcoal drawing of a horse running in a field. In all modesty, he thought it was pretty good. What had happened to that artistic side? He’d taken a few art classes in college and had thoroughly enjoyed them. But somewhere between boot camp and a Middle Eastern sandbox and getting shot in a cheap apartment during a drug raid, he’d lost his muse. His gaze moved to the row of dinosaurs on one of the shelves. He remembered the Christmas morning he’d gotten the set of prehistoric creatures, along with an Usborne book about dinosaurs. His kids played with them now, especially after the recent movie Jurassic World. They had no idea how many hours their dad had spent with those plastic figures, creating dioramas out of dirt, twigs, and rocks. This room had been his and his brothers’ home away from home for as long as he could remember. Even though the big house had four bedrooms, all three brothers had slept in this room on three mismatched twin beds, talking and laughing late into the night because the first one to fall asleep ran the risk of being pranked. Nick couldn’t remember the last time he’d actually stayed here, but it had been many years. Nick dressed and cleaned up in the upstairs bathroom. This whole house was like a time capsule. Nothing had changed for as long as he could remember, and that was strangely comforting. It took him back to when he was much younger and more innocent. He’d never seen a dead body or watched a junkie take a last hit. He’d never heard the wrenching cries of a woman whose child had just been shot or the deafening pounding of his heart when he’d been pinned down by unseen snipers who were gradually closing in. Being in Grammy’s house washed the sins of the world away and reminded him of a simpler time…a happier time…a time that was gone forever. Grammy called up the stairs, “Breakfast is ready.” Nick finger-combed his damp hair and headed to the kitchen. He sat at the scratched wooden table in the same place he always sat. His fingers traced the letters NA, which he had

carved on the oak tabletop to mark his spot. Grammy had not been amused when she saw it, but even after all these years, she had left it. She placed a plate in front of him, covering the initials. It was the same breakfast he’d eaten here since…forever. Fresh eggs, bacon, whole wheat toast, and a large navel orange cut precisely into eight sections. Sundays were the only days that the menu changed, and that was when Grammy made waffles. She never allowed cereal in the house because she believed it was full of chemicals, artificial colors, sugars, and crap. He smiled at the memories. “How’d you sleep?” Grammy asked. Nick spread an ample amount of butter on his toast until it was totally covered, corner to corner. “Surprisingly well, thanks. You?” Grammy sat down next to him with a plate of her own. “It was nice having you sleep over….Reminds me of the old days.” He savored each bite. No one cooked like his grandmother. “What’s on your agenda today?” she asked. “Want to go fishing?” “Fishing…” He was so tempted, but he wasn’t that barefoot twelve-year-old boy who would have dropped anything for a day at the lake. He was a grown man with a serious job that meant life or death to some unsuspecting kids. “Sorry, Grammy. I wish I could, but I’m real close to breaking that killer loosie-goosey case wide open.” “I suppose you’re right.” She tried to hide her disappointment. “The whole drug thing has changed since I was your age. I always knew the grower personally, so I didn’t worry about quality. It’s too commercial now. That’s why I grow my own.” Nick put his hands over his ears. “I didn’t hear that. Please don’t tell me things like that.” Grammy smiled. “You’re a good boy…and a good agent. But you don’t have to be both at the same time.” “You’re giving me permission to be bad?” he teased. “I think your life is too serious. I’ll bet you don’t have a hobby, do you?” “I watch sports on TV.” “Phht,” she sputtered. “Turn off the TV and get out and pick up a ball. Surely there’s a softball team you can join or a football pickup game. You’re too pale. And unhappy. What’s the last book you read?” “Jeez, I hate these pop quizzes.” He whistled for Harley, who was lying on the back porch, watching for wild things to wander into the yard. The dog jumped up and walked to Nick, who handed him a half slice of bacon. “I already fed him some eggs and hamburger I cooked up,” Grammy said. “He loved it.” “You should get a dog. It’s not good for you to be out here all by yourself.” “I’ve thought about it. When I was going out on tour all the time, it didn’t make sense, but now…Maybe I’ll check out the pound.” “That’s where Jamie gets most of her dogs. It’s been a great experience for…” Nick’s phone rang. “Archer,” Nick growled, not recognizing the phone number and resenting the disruption of his breakfast.

“It’s Larry.” “What’s up?” “I need your help.” “Sure, I owe you one.” “I’ve got a hot bust all set up, but my partner’s out sick. I’ve got a backup, but I need someone to watch the entrance to southbound Texas 130. College-age kid pushing to kids in the park. I think it’ll be an easy arrest, but if he freaks, he might head that way. You in?” “Cool, what time?” “We’re meeting at two p.m. at the Stone Hill Whataburger. The buy is at four.” “See you there.” Nick hung up. He shoved the last piece of toast in his mouth and wrapped the orange in a paper napkin for later. “Loosie case?” Grammy asked. “No, I’m just helping someone out.” He stood and clapped his hands, and Harley was ready. “Thanks for the advice last night….I think it’s too late….” He bent down and kissed her on the cheek. “You’ve never been a quitter. Go get her.” “I’ll tell her you sent me.” “I’ll set a place for her on Sunday.” — “Nick!” Larry called out from the corner booth near the window at the Whataburger at the Stone Hill shopping complex in Pflugerville. “Hey, Larry,” Nick said as he slid into the booth. “Who’s our third?” “Stacey Betts. She just called, and she’s already at the park.” “She’s solid.” “I agree.” Larry laid the picture of the suspect on the table. Want to know his name?” “Not really.” Nick picked it up and examined it, committing the face to memory. “Lives with his parents?” Larry smiled. “How’d you guess?” “He has that look…kind of empty, like his eyes aren’t plugged in. What’s he driving?” “Usually it’s a late-model black Suburban.” Larry put the picture back in his notebook. “Daddy’s car?” “Yeah. Papa owns a chain of car washes. You can’t miss the license plate: WASHME2.” “What kind of car is WASHME1?” “A red Corvette.” Larry touched an American flag on his lapel. “My new body cam. You’ll be able to see and hear exactly what I’m seeing and hearing.” He handed Nick a mini iPad. “That’s cool.” Nick turned it on and his own face appeared on the screen. “One, two, three, test,” Larry said in a low voice. “I hear you,” Nick confirmed. “Ready to go?”

Nick nodded. “Good. Let’s get him.” They left and headed in different directions. Nick drove down the Texas 130 service road a short distance and pulled into a parking lot that was several hundred feet from the on-ramp. He circled around so he was facing outward. As soon as he saw the Suburban or Corvette, he could zip out and cut it off before the kid entered the high-speed, limited-access highway. “Okay, Harley. It’s your first stakeout. We’re looking for a black SUV or a red Corvette. Too bad you’re color-blind.” Nick reactivated the iPad and watched as Larry got out of his car at the park. “You got me, Nick?” “Yes, loud and clear. Suspect in view?” “Not yet.” “We’re ready to go out here,” Nick assured him. “He just pulled in…black Suburban.” The camera view snapped back to the parking lot as a sparkling-clean SUV pulled in. “Come on, kid…step into the web.” Nick watched as the perp parked his vehicle across multiple parking spaces. In less than a minute several kids, mostly teens, approached the driver one at a time. They were orderly, standing in line as if it were the lunchroom on pizza day. The video was clear enough to see the drugs and cash changing hands. “Stacey, can you see this?” Larry asked. “I’m too far away, but if he leaves through the west entrance, I’ll have him,” she answered. “I’m going in,” Larry whispered. “Nick, keep your engine running.” “Ten-four.” Nick watched as Larry took his place in line. He was wearing a ratty T-shirt and baggy shorts, just like everyone else in front of him. He had pulled a baseball cap down so his face was in shadow. Even though he was twenty years older than the others, at first glance he blended in well. Gradually he moved up, carefully positioning himself so that his body cam was recording every transaction. “Hey,” Larry said when it was his turn. “Waz up?” Larry handed him a twenty-dollar bill. “Need a bump.” He looked around cautiously, playing the role of nervous buyer. The man took the twenty and held out a small plastic bag. “One bump.” Larry pocketed the drugs and pulled out his badge in one smooth move. “You’re under arrest for selling a controlled substance. Get out of the vehicle.” “No way, dude.” The man rolled his window up and accelerated. Larry lunged for the door handle, but the car pulled away. “He’s driving across the grass,” Stacey called out. “He got past me.” “On it,” Nick said as he flipped the tablet to the floor and placed a magnetic flashing blue light on the roof of the pickup. “Coming your way, Nick,” Larry gasped, breathing heavily as he ran back to his car.

Nick watched from the south side, where contractors parked at the back of the Hawaiian Falls water park. A black Suburban approached the intersection at a high speed. Nick knew the dealer had two choices. A hard left would take him north. With posted speeds of eighty miles per hour, he could disappear quickly, especially if he exited onto any of the many side roads. However, Nick had a gut feeling the man would be heading south because that would give him quicker access to the interstate. He watched as the Suburban took a hard right toward the southbound entrance ramp. Nick gunned his pickup, shooting out of the parking lot just as the Suburban approached. The guy had to see him coming, but instead of stopping, he jerked the wheel to the left, trying to avoid the truck that was heading straight for him. “Hang on, Harley,” Nick yelled. He punched the accelerator and nailed the Suburban in the right rear quarter panel. The vehicle spun 360 degrees clockwise, nearly taking out a white Honda Accord whose driver had guessed wrong and tried to pass. Nick gunned his pickup again and rammed the vehicle in the right side of the bumper, which popped the rear door open. The vehicle turned sharply left to get on the entrance ramp, and out of the back dropped a large wire kennel full of something black. The kennel bounced once, then skidded across the lanes as the door popped open, pouring ten black puppies out onto the feeder road. Nick glanced in his rearview mirror just as Larry’s car passed him, taking up the chase after the crippled but escaping Suburban. “Stay, Harley,” Nick commanded as he turned his truck crosswise, blocking two lanes, then jumped out. The puppies had scattered in every direction, including into the oncoming traffic. Tires squealed as people slammed on the brakes. Nick scrambled to catch the frightened puppies, but he could hold only four at a time before he had to take them to his truck and put them in the back. People climbed out of their cars and chased after the rest of the little animals. Harley stayed inside the cab, watching everyone chasing after the terrified puppies. He paced back and forth in the small space and whined. Finally he couldn’t take it any longer and jumped out the window. He took off after a puppy no one else had noticed who had run off into a field. Streaking across the grass, he quickly caught up with the puppy and grabbed it by the nape of its neck. It instinctively went limp and allowed itself to be carried. Harley trotted back to the truck, stood up on the bumper, and dropped the puppy over the tailgate into the truck bed with the others. Nick and two of the drivers dropped the last three puppies in with the rest of the litter. Nick brought the crate to the truck, put it in the back, and climbed in so he could load them all back in where they’d be safe. Surprisingly, all the puppies seemed to have survived their traumatic tumble and escape with no obvious wounds. With all the puppies inside and the door latched, he turned around. The crowd applauded and cheered. Several of them had their cellphones out, snapping photos or videos. “Thank you for your help,” Nick called out. He hopped down, then loaded Harley in the backseat, jumped in, and drove away. “Good boy, Harley,” Nick told him, and turned the air conditioner on full blast. All that

exercise in the heat had worked up a sweat. His phone rang, and he saw it was Larry. “Did you get him?” “On his way to APD even as we speak.” “Good. Paperwork is all yours. And don’t forget to back me up with Bobbi. She’s going to bitch at my truck repairs.” “Thanks, Nick. Great job.” “Any time.” Nick glanced back at the kennelful of puppies. Labrador retrievers, he guessed. And he knew exactly where he’d take them: to Jamie. It would give him a great excuse to see her and maybe pass on some of his newfound knowledge about love and life. As he headed south so he could circle downtown and avoid most of the traffic, it occurred to him that a month ago he would have probably gone for the collar and not stopped for the puppies. The pun made him smile, but he also realized that he was glad his priorities had changed. Maybe the old Nick wasn’t too far gone after all. Nick had just turned off the main road onto Jamie’s long driveway when his phone rang. Bobbi’s name popped up on the caller ID. “Archer.” “Do you have any idea what you did today?” Nick thought for a moment before answering. “I helped Larry make a drug bust. He told me he had talked to you about it.” “He did,” Bobbi fumed. “But it was supposed to be a simple, quiet affair. It wasn’t supposed to make the fucking five o’clock news.” “It was a good arrest. The guy was dealing ketamine to kids.” “The arrest was great. The adorable video of my best undercover agent chasing after a shitload of puppies was not. Cellphone videos! All over the local channels! Hell, Nick, you and Harley went viral.” Nick shrugged it off. At least they didn’t know who he was. He gave Harley a thumbs-up. “Why did you talk to those reporters?” “Talk? I didn’t talk to anyone except to thank the drivers for helping. No one knew who I was.” “Wrong! Everyone knows who you are. You’re a hero.” She paused to take an angry breath. “Well, I have no idea how they got my name, but fuck, Bobbi, what would you have done? I slowed the guy down, then Larry took over. Those puppies would have been slaughtered.” “That stupid dog has ruined you, Nick,” she blurted out. “I never should have set this whole thing up.” “Put your paws over your ears, Harley,” Nick said. “She doesn’t know what she’s saying.” “In my office first thing tomorrow, Nick…and leave Harley in the truck….I wouldn’t want to make him feel bad when his master gets disciplined,” she said without pity. Nick shut his phone off. “No worries, Harley. She loves us. That’s just her way of showing it.” Nick backed up as close as he could get to the gate leading to the kennel. He parked the truck and let Harley out the back door. He had just lowered the tailgate when Jamie came out of the kennel. When she saw it was him, her steps faltered and a frown darkened her face.

“You’re the last person I—” she started. Nick interrupted midsentence. “—wanted to see today, right?” “Well, no…Yes, actually.” “I found these guys on 130 today. Their kennel tumbled out of the back of a perp’s SUV. They escaped and were running all over the road. It was pretty crazy, but we caught them all.” Jamie walked to the back of the truck and peered at the kennelful of chubby black Labs, who were pushing and shoving in their eagerness to get out of the small cage. “Oh my gosh… they’re gorgeous. But why did you bring them here?” Nick tried to ignore how glad he was just to be that close to her. “I didn’t know where else to take them where they would be able to stay together. They’re part of a case, so you’ll be paid for their care.” Nick tore his gaze away from her. Somehow he knew it wasn’t the right time to talk to her about Grammy’s theory about love. “I know you don’t want me around, so if someone can help me get this off my truck, I’ll take off.” “It’s not that I don’t want…,” she started to say, then turned around and called toward the kennels, “Hey, Rick and Kaley.” Two bright-eyed teens stepped out of the kennel. “Did you need—” Kaley started to say, but Rick interrupted her. “It’s him! It’s the guy who saved all those puppies,” Rick exclaimed. “Are those the dogs?” Kaley asked as she raced to the back of the truck. “They’re so cute! And this is Harley?” She leaned down and petted him. “Those videos on YouTube of him carrying the puppy are so cool.” “What’s going on?” Jamie asked. “They’re watching YouTube when they’re supposed to be working.” Nick ratted them out with a grin. “Well…I’ll look into that.” Jamie looked around uncomfortably as if she didn’t know what to do next. Nick climbed into the bed of the truck. Rick and Kaley scrambled up after him, and together they were able to drag the kennel to the edge, then hop down. Rick ran off and returned with a small flatbed wagon. Once they had lowered the kennel onto the wagon, Rick and Kaley were able to keep the crate steady as they pulled it toward the kennel. “Call me if you need anything,” Nick said. “I won’t.” She shook her head with certainty. Did she mean she wouldn’t need anything or that she wouldn’t call him? But he already knew it was both. “See ya.” He barely was able to force a nonchalant smile as he loaded Harley into the backseat. He didn’t look back as he stepped into the driver’s side and started the engine. He waved to the kids and generally in Jamie’s direction and drove off. He looked down at his hands and noticed that his palms were sweaty. “I don’t know about you, but I need a good, stiff drink,” Nick told Harley as they headed home.

Chapter 18 Bobbi was seated at her desk, studying something on her laptop screen, when Harley trotted in and sat down in front of her desk and stared at her. She rolled back in her desk chair. “What the fuck, Har—…Nick?” she shouted. “I told you to leave that dog in the truck. He doesn’t like me.” Nick entered her office and plopped down on one of the chairs in front of the desk. “I know you did, and I know you’re mad. But it’s hot out there, and it’s illegal to leave a dog in a vehicle. I wouldn’t want to break the law.” “Oh, right! The old Nick Archer would not only have left a dog in a car, but he would have rolled the windows up and turned on the heater.” “That’s harsh.” Nick was a little shocked that someone thought that about him. “I’ve always liked animals.” “You like to crush criminals even more. Or, at least, the old Nick did. He was one of best special agents I’ve ever worked with. You could go so deep that even I didn’t recognize you.” Bobbi shook her head in disgust and disappointment. “Now your name and face are all over the Internet because of that stunt yesterday. You’re useless to the agency…and to me.” Harley whined and placed his paw on Nick’s leg. He could sense the tension in the room and wanted to help Nick relax. It was part of his PTSD training. Nick swallowed hard, barely able to speak around the lump in his throat. He’d screwed up before, and Bobbi had reamed him a new one. But this time it was different. There was a quiet anger that went deeper than a simple reprimand. This time he might have gone too far. “This will all blow over. You know how quickly people forget.” “Not when there are goddamn puppies. That clip will live forever on YouTube.” Bobbi sighed and leaned back in her chair. Today she was wearing a simple pantsuit with a doghouse pinned to her lapel. Nick tried not to read too much into that. “I read Larry’s report,” Bobbi continued. “Where’s yours? Exactly what happened?” “Larry’s report is the official one. I read it over last night, and it was complete. I have nothing to add.” Bobbie pulled her screen closer and scrolled back to the top of the document. “Larry said you tried to ram the Suburban with your truck to slow it down so he could catch the dealer. True?” “I didn’t try to ram it. I did ram it…twice. So that’s mostly true.” “Then he said that the dealer had a wire kennel in his vehicle that fell out and busted open, and that you jumped out to rescue the puppies. True?” “With some onlookers’ and Harley’s help, we got them all. So, true.” “Why, Nick? The old Nick would have driven around the puppies, beaten Larry to the

dealer, dragged him out of his vehicle by his balls, and beat the shit out of him before arresting him. Where is that Nick, Nick?” Nick stood and walked over to the window before answering. He stared out at the streets that he loved. It was oddly ironic that this whole episode had started with a dog he didn’t want and ended with some puppies he couldn’t allow to be roadkill. It was interesting that she had used the phrase the old Nick when just this morning he’d thought exactly the same thing. Had he lost his edge? He felt compelled to make Bobbi understand what was going on in his head…and his heart, even though he wasn’t completely sure he knew. Maybe if he talked it out, it would help clarify it for both of them. “When I started with the DEA, I learned that fast decisions and actions without regard for other people’s feelings got me collars, longer sentences, and, yes”— Nick turned to look at her—“more power. It was all about getting the bad guys, no matter what it took. I was determined to be the best.” “And your point is?” “Yesterday I woke up in my old bedroom and, like you, I wondered where the old Nick was. But not the one you were talking about. Not the one who didn’t mind disappearing from the real world for a year at a time. Not the one who would lie, cheat, steal, or kill…anything to get an arrest. The Nick I missed was the one who could strip off all his clothes and jump in the lake…or take the day off to go fishing with my grandmother…or carry a box of colored pencils into the woods and draw pictures of leaves or squirrels or whatever shit caught my eye. The old Nick knew how to have fun. This Nick has forgotten how.” Bobbi’s forehead crinkled into a confused frown. “You’re an artist?” Nick rolled his eyes. “Is that all you got out of that?” “I guess it’s about priorities, and apparently yours have changed. First you risk your job by running off to Mexico on a wild-goose chase, and now you’ve blown your cover and everything you’ve worked for…for puppies?” “I didn’t get up yesterday and make a plan to fuck it all up. It just happened. Blame it on cellphones or the Internet. Or, better yet, on assholes that sell drugs to kids in parks.” “In other words, blame everyone else?” Nick gave her a sharp look. “Absolutely not. It was all my decision to stop traffic and keep from having ten little black smudges on the road. I consider rescuing innocent creatures, human or animal, part of my job. I’m sorry if you don’t agree, but I feel good about saving those dogs.” His eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “And even though you won’t admit it right now, I think you’d have done exactly the same thing.” “You’re wrong. I’ve worked damn hard to get where I am, and I would do anything to stay here.” “You know what they say: it’s lonely at the top. Maybe you should get a dog.” Nick crossed the room in long strides. He paused in the doorway. “Do what you have to do, Bobbi. I’m good with where I’m at and where I’m going.” “And where is that, Nick?” “I’m going to stop that guy who is killing those kids. That’s my job. Come on, Harley.” Harley jumped to his feet and ran out of the office, catching up with Nick at the elevator

bank. Nick punched the button repeatedly, but when the doors didn’t immediately open, he pivoted, escaped through the exit door, and galloped down the four flights of stairs to the street level with Harley following close behind. Nick’s head was spinning. He was pissed that he couldn’t get a break in the loosie-goosey case. He was concerned about losing his job because in most ways he loved it. Last but certainly not least, he was worried about not being able to convince Jamie he was worth the risk. Although if he lost his job, it might solve his problem with her. But his job was so important to him, and it would crush him to leave it. Harley, with his favorite knotted rope toy in his mouth, stuck his head between the front bucket seats. Nick glanced over at him and nodded. “I agree. We need a little fresh air and playtime.” He made a turn at the next light and headed toward the park near his house. It was Saturday and the weather was perfect, so of course the park was crowded, but Nick was able to find an empty bench in a shady area as far as possible from the playground equipment. He risked letting Harley off the leash since they were in an isolated corner. Harley dropped his toy at Nick’s feet and looked up with sparkling eyes. Nick tossed the large, brightly colored rope twenty yards away, and Harley charged after it. The game went on until the heat got to Harley and he stretched out on the cool grass in the shade. Nick took a bottle of water and a small collapsible bowl out of the backpack he always carried on their walks. He pushed the bowl closer to Harley, who raised up enough to get a drink, then lay back down. Nick took out his notepad and meant to study his notes. Instead he started sketching Harley. His fingers moved slowly, tentatively at first. It had been so long since they’d done anything so frivolous…other than when they explored Jamie’s enticing curves. That memory distracted him, and his pencil strokes became more relaxed as his hand moved on its own, capturing the bold lines of Harley’s head, the noble curve of his ears, alert even in sleep, and the lean, muscular body. He shaded in the darker color of the dog’s saddle and mask and was working on getting the hair right without making him look fluffy when his phone rang, playing the first few bars of “Stayin’ Alive.” “Hi, Grammy,” he answered, recognizing the ringtone. “I saw you on YouTube. Those puppies are so cute.” “Yeah, you and four million other people. At the rate I’m going, I’ll be out of undercover work and into the high school career-day circuit.” Grammy chuckled. “It’s not that bad, Nicky.” “No, it’s probably worse. Don’t rent out my old bedroom. I might be moving back in.” There was a moment of quiet, and Nick was afraid that even his grandmother was going to reject him. It was that kind of day. “What are you doing this evening?” Grammy asked, seeming to change the subject. “Uh…Harley and I will probably call out for pizza and catch a game on TV. Why?” “Why don’t you come out here for dinner…say, around eight?” Nick wasn’t really in the mood for company tonight. It was a good time to get shit-faced and fall asleep on the couch in his underwear. “Nah, I’ve had a shitty day. But I’ll be there tomorrow.”

There was another long moment of silence, then Grammy admitted, “Jamie will be here.” That sweetened the pot. “How do you know?” “Because I invited her.” “Why would you do that?” “Two reasons…One is that she’s bringing over a dog she picked up at the pound. They were about to put him to sleep because no one adopted him. He’s ten years old, and I guess most people want younger dogs. But Jamie thought we two old farts would be good for each other.” “That’s cool. I think you’ll enjoy the company. And the other reason?” “Because if I leave it up to you boys, I’ll never have any more great-grandkids. I don’t know where I went wrong. All of you boys are smart and handsome…yet none of you can hang on to a good woman.” “I don’t need help with my love life.” “Apparently you do. Be here at eight. And bring some ice. My ice maker is on the blink.” The phone went dead, leaving him no option but to wake Harley up and head home. If he was going to see Jamie, he wanted to take a shower and wash all the failure off. An hour later he and Harley were out of Austin and heading west. Clouds blocked the sun, tantalizing with the promise of rain. In the distance he could see the thunderheads building and occasional streaks of lightning splitting the air. They were too far away to hear the thunder, but it looked like they were coming this way. Nick loved the smell of rain, so he left the windows open, and Harley did the dog thing with his nose in the air, sampling the plethora of scents while his lips flapped in the wind. It was late enough that the traffic had thinned. This was a main artery out of Austin, so he wasn’t alarmed that a silver BMW had been right behind him since they left downtown. Nick’s mind was formulating exactly what he should say to Jamie, and he didn’t notice that the traffic light had turned yellow until he was already in the intersection. He glanced quickly both ways and, since no one was coming, he accelerated rather than slam on the brakes. Behind him the BMW sped up and ran the light even though it was clearly red by then. “Asshole,” Nick muttered, wondering where the small-town cops were. Writing tickets wasn’t part of his job, so he blew it off and let his thoughts swing back to Jamie. “Almost there, boy,” Nick told Harley as they headed toward the last bridge before the turnoff to Grammy’s farm. He noticed the BMW speeding up and assumed it was going to pass. A second later, when the silver luxury car had drawn even with Nick’s truck, he looked over in time to see the passenger’s-side window roll down and a big, black nine-millimeter automatic point at him. “Fuck! Hang on, Harley,” Nick yelled as he simultaneously ducked, slammed on the brakes, and jerked the wheel to the right. A bullet zipped through the air, just missing his head, seconds before the BMW took a hard right and rammed into the side of Nick’s truck. Because the truck was already at an angle, the blow was enough to send it into a spin. The bridge flashed into his line of vision, then he felt the truck slam into the metal rail. There was a deafening screech of metal against metal, and then the truck tilted. It teetered for a second, much too briefly for Nick to react, before it rolled down the incline leading to a shallow creek below.

Nick didn’t know how many times they rolled. He heard Harley yelp as the dog’s body slammed into the ceiling, then back to the seat. It wasn’t a very deep creek bed, but it felt like the roll lasted forever, with everything shifting to slow motion. Nick saw his phone float up, then fly out the window. All the change he kept in the cup holder in his console pelted him on one of the upside-down revolutions. The litter from his floorboard tumbled around the cab like clothes in a dryer. Finally they came to a stop, the truck resting on its roof. It took Nick a few seconds to realize he was hanging by his seatbelt. He released it and collapsed onto the ceiling. Harley whimpered in the backseat, but he seemed to be okay. Nick crawled out the open window and Harley scrambled out after him. They both just lay there on the river rocks and tufts of weeds, trying to catch their breath and gather their wits. On the road above, he heard voices and hoped someone had called 9-1-1. Pebbles and dirt tumbled down in a delayed reaction from the truck disturbing them—and loosened by two pairs of feet that were half sliding and half walking down the slope. Nick tried to see who they were, but the setting sun was behind them, casting the two men in silhouette. But the sun also was reflecting off the pistol the shorter man in back was carrying. Nick tried to get up, but he grimaced in pain. He knew he’d broken either his leg or his pelvis. Either way, he wasn’t going to be running away anytime soon. His fingers fumbled with his own gun, which miraculously was still stuffed into the back of his waistband. He pointed it at them, trying desperately not to let his hand shake. “Drop the weapon!” he shouted in a weak version of his usual loud command. The men just laughed. “Fuck you,” the short one muttered. “You’re not such a tough guy now, are you?” Nick heard their gun fire just a split second before a bullet burned a hole in his side. He automatically fired back and was gratified to hear a thud and a loud grunt. The man shot again, and the bullet hit Nick in the right shoulder, causing his hand to go numb. The gun dropped from his limp fingers and hit the rocks. Then another bullet burned into his chest. Suddenly, behind him, there was a deep-throated growl, much fiercer and more frightening than any dog sound he’d ever heard. He saw the black and tan flash of fur as Harley launched himself at the gunman. Another shot and Harley cried out in pain, but he didn’t stop. A second shot found its mark in the dog, but he reached his target and took the man down. Ninety-five pounds of angry animal held the man on the ground while Harley’s jaws clamped around the man’s right forearm. “Get him off me,” the guy yelled, his voice high-pitched with terror. The other guy ran forward and landed a booted foot in Harley’s side, knocking the air out of the dog long enough for the two men to scramble back up the slope. Vaguely Nick heard their car start, followed by the powerful roar of the BMW’s engine as they took off. Then there was quiet. Only the faint trickle of the lazy creek over the rocks several feet away broke the silence. Nick struggled to lift his head so he could see Harley. The dog was lying on his side. Blood was pouring out of several wounds, and he looked lifeless. “Harley,” Nick cried. He stretched out until he could touch the dog’s tail. “Harley,” he repeated weakly, then felt the earth start spinning around him. Nick could feel himself being

pulled into a dark hole. The thought occurred to him that this was all wrong. Dying people were supposed to be drawn toward the light. “Jamie…” Her name escaped his lips in a shallow breath. Would she miss him, or would she be glad she’d pushed him away? She’d been right….There were no guarantees in life. At least she wouldn’t have to go through the pain of burying another man. He’d thought he would never fall in love, but he had…head over heels. He wished he’d told her…and now it was too late. Nick’s eyelids fluttered closed as blackness enveloped him. Apparently even the afterworld wasn’t going to give him a break. Fuck, his day had just gotten even shittier.

Chapter 19 Harley raised his head. The two strangers were gone. He looked around and saw his man lying on the ground just outside the truck. Harley whimpered and tried to wag his tail, but the man didn’t move. Harley was shaky, but he forced himself into a standing position. The ground was uneven, and he fell once, but he dragged himself back up and kept moving until he reached his man. Harley nudged the man’s hand, but it was completely limp. The rancid scent of blood and sweat filled the dog’s sensitive nostrils. He’d smelled blood before, but this time he intuitively knew that this wasn’t right. He pushed his wet nose against the man’s cheek, but still no reaction. This was bad. The man always responded. Even when he was asleep and Harley needed to go outside, a touch of the dog’s cold, damp nose always brought the man wide awake. Why wouldn’t he wake up now? The man was bleeding from several wounds. Harley tried to lick one, but the blood kept flowing, confusing him. The dog didn’t know why he felt so tired. He saw his fur was wet with his own blood, but he didn’t take time to clean it off. He lay down next to his man and rested his head on the man’s chest. Why wasn’t he moving? Why wasn’t he saying what a good dog Harley was? His man was always so generous with praise, and Harley would do anything to please him. Harley whimpered again. His whole body hurt, but he was more worried about his man. He nudged his cheek again, but the man’s head just rolled to the side. His eyes were shut, and he wouldn’t wake up. Harley lifted his nose in the air and sucked in. His lungs weren’t working properly, so it was a shallow breath, but there were some familiar smells. He recognized the scent of animals and the pungent odor his woman had trained him to find. It reminded him of the old lady who sat on the porch and slipped him treats. She was nice and his man seemed to like her. She would help wake his man up. Harley licked his man’s cold cheek. The dog sensed that he needed to hurry. Each step sent pain shooting through him. The rocks hurt his feet, but he followed the creek bed until he was on the other side of the highway. The scent was stronger here, not mixed with exhaust fumes. He stopped for a drink and to catch his breath. He didn’t understand why he was having so much trouble breathing. He took another drink, then left the creek bed behind as he squeezed between the rails of a fence and walked across a field. A rabbit darted past, cutting back and forth in an effort to escape, but Harley ignored it. Normally it would have been a fun chase, even though he rarely succeeded in catching the animals. It was all about the game. But not today. He was on a mission. His man needed help, and Harley had to get someone to save him. The dog slogged on, forcing his legs to keep moving. He reached the other side of

the field and crawled through the fence. In front of him was the gravel road. Another scent was added to the rest: his woman. Harley perked up a little. She would know what to do. She could fix anything. He wished he could trot, but he just couldn’t make his legs move any faster. With every step he took, the smells got stronger. Then the house came into view. Just a little farther. One heavy paw at a time. The two women were sitting on the porch. They weren’t looking in his direction. Bark. That would get their attention. The sound that came out was nothing like his usual bark. It was sort of gurgly and gruff, but the women heard it. “Harley! Oh my God, what happened to you?” His woman raced toward him. Just seeing her face made him happy. He managed a small wag of his tail, but that seemed to drain the last bit of energy from him. Just as she reached him, he collapsed. “He’s bleeding…all over,” his woman cried as her gentle fingers probed his fur. She cradled his head in her lap and stroked him, crooning sweet words that he loved hearing. He had no idea what she was saying, just that her voice was warm and kind and familiar. But he had to get her to go help his man. Painfully Harley struggled to his feet in spite of her attempt to make him stay down. He swayed but managed to turn around and start heading back down the road. He stopped and looked back. They weren’t following. What was wrong with these people? He barked again and started walking. “It’s Nick. Harley’s trying to tell us that Nick’s in trouble!” Jamie exclaimed. “Good boy, Harley. I’ll find him. You stay here with Grammy.” Harley didn’t understand, but he felt the old lady’s hand grip his collar. “Hurry,” she said. “I’ll call 9-1-1 and get Harley in my car. Where should I take him?” “Ted Pendergrass went to school with me. He’s at the Town & Country Veterinary Hospital in Dripping Springs. If the office is closed, he lives in the little blue house next door.” “I know where that is. I’ve used him a couple times for the alpacas.” The woman pulled her keys out of her pocket and ran to her SUV. The old lady led Harley to her car. It was quite a struggle to get him in the small front seat of the Mustang, and Harley wasn’t able to help much. He seemed to have lost all strength in his legs. The old lady carefully pushed his rear further into the car and moved his tail out of the way as she shut the door. Harley was tired…so tired. He was comforted that his woman was going to help his man. Harley gave a contented sigh and let his body relax. His work was done.

Chapter 20 Am I dead? The light pierced Nick’s closed eyelids. Actually, he was relieved to be out of the darkness and the cold. Wherever he was, it was warm and soft…and goddamn bright. His eyes didn’t want to cooperate, but gradually he was able to work them open. The images were blurry, but he could make out two men, about the same height, standing in front of a window. One had golden blond hair and the other had dark brown hair almost the same shade as his own. If Luke had come all the way from DC, it must be serious. He slowly panned the room, taking in a TV mounted on the wall and a pole with a curtain hanging from it. To his left were two women. “Jamie?” he croaked, the sound raspy and unfamiliar. His throat was raw and dry, and the word barely came out, but both women immediately rushed to him. “He’s awake!” He recognized Grammy’s voice. He felt her cool, wrinkled hand on his cheek. The two men stepped closer. “Luke, what are you doing here? Who’s watching the borders?” “You had us all a little worried,” Luke admitted. “What happened?” Nick asked. His memories were sketchy. Images flashed through his mind: crashing through the bridge rail…tumbling down the embankment…feeling good that he and Harley had survived the wreck… He shifted and pain shot through him. He realized he had bandages wrapped around his chest from his neck to his belly button and his leg was immobilized by a heavy white cast and suspended by a sling hanging from a pole attached to the bed. More memories flooded back: two men standing over him…shots ringing in his ears, echoing in the narrow confines of the creek bed…Harley sacrificing his life to save Nick’s. Tears leaked out of the corners of his eyes and ran into his ears. “How’s Harley?” he asked. Grammy spoke up, her voice gentle and sympathetic. “I’m so sorry, Nicky. He was in pretty bad shape when I dropped him off at the vet’s. He had been shot several times and barely made it to my house before he collapsed.” Nick frowned. “He went to your house? But how?” “God only knows how he made it. He could barely walk, but he wouldn’t rest until we realized you needed help. You’d have been proud of him.” “He saved your life,” Justin added. “If Jamie hadn’t found you when she did, you would have bled out.” Nick gingerly touched his chest. “Jamie found me?” He knew he was repeating everything, but his mind was having trouble putting all the pieces together. “She and I were waiting for you to arrive for dinner. When she saw Harley, she took off.

She saw your truck and you lying beside it down by the creek. She called 9-1-1, then ran down and applied pressure to stop the bleeding until the ambulance arrived,” Grammy explained. “It was raining cats and dogs, but she stayed right with you.” Nick tried to judge the time by the angle of the sun shining through the window, but he was completely disoriented. “How long have I been here? Overnight?” Grammy exchanged worried looks with Justin and Luke. “You’ve been unconscious for four days. You took a bullet in the lungs and another one broke a couple ribs. You didn’t stabilize until yesterday. That’s when they moved you out of ICU into this room.” “Four days?” he echoed. The other woman stepped forward, and he saw it was Bobbi. “Nick Archer, you always have to do it the hard way,” she said, but her smile was relieved. “Congratulations, you solved the case.” Nick tried to sit up, but his grandmother pushed him back down. Instead she pushed the button on the controller that was hanging from the bed rails, and the back slowly moved up, easing Nick into a more upright position. When he grimaced, she stopped, but at least he was more at eye level with everyone. “What case?” “The loosie-gooseys.” Bobbi shook her head in amazement. “Your instincts are excellent. It’s just your execution that blows.” He sucked in a gasp. “You found the guy that was making the loosies?” “No…you found him.” “I did?” Nick was too groggy to play it cool and pretend he had a clue what she was talking about. “Who was it?” “Garret Grossman!” Bobbi announced dramatically. Now Nick was positive he was dreaming all this. Whatever drugs he was on, they were fucking great. “Did you hear me?” Bobbi asked. “It was the congressman’s son. He was the mastermind behind all of it. When he stole the caffeine, he was going to use it as an additive for an extra kick, but you spoiled that.” Bobbi chuckled. “He was a business major, not a chemist, or he would have known that his other special ingredient might cause quick highs but could also be deadly. When Nick didn’t react, she reached out and pinched his arm…hard. “Ouch!” Okay, this was real. “Well, fuck me.” “I’m sure that’s what he was thinking when he checked into the hospital with an accidental gunshot wound. Unfortunately for him, you had already been found, along with your pistol and his. I don’t know what went on down there, but there were spent cartridges everywhere.” It was starting to make sense. He’d thought the silver BMW looked familiar. The kid with the glasses who had stolen the bags of caffeine had another enterprise up his sleeve. “Good. I hope that little shit is in as much pain as I am,” Nick muttered. “He’s already been released.” Bobbi smiled. “He didn’t know we had a guard on the door, and he was arrested as soon as the doctor said he was ready to go.” “I’ll bet Daddy bailed him out,” Grammy commented, her usually mellow attitude disturbed.

“Not this time. The illegal drug charges were the least of it. Four counts of murder and one count of attempted murder of a government agent should keep him in prison for twenty to life.” “How did you connect him to the loosies?” Nick asked. “DNA. He’d gone to the apartment you busted to get it set up before the cooks arrived, just like you guessed. His mistake was to take a drink and not destroy the glass.” Nick relaxed back against the pillow. “I guess the governor is happy.” “Ecstatic. He didn’t like the congressman, so this is a win-win for him. He thinks you’re the greatest thing since electric lights.” “I’ll bet he’ll be upset to hear that I’ve lost my job.” Nick’s eyes widened innocently. “I never said you were fired.” Bobbi had known him too long to be fooled by his act. “But I don’t know what I’m going to do with you. Your cover was blown by the puppy rescue, and all the press from this arrest will pretty much seal the deal.” “I’m not hearing the good news.” “We’ll find something for you to do…after you get well.” “Did I mention that I need a new vest, a new phone…oh, and a new truck too, because mine was destroyed in the line of duty.” Bobbi shook her head and exhaled. “I’ll check the budget.” Grammy stepped closer to the bed and fussed with Nick’s pillow. “You scared the dickens out of me,” she said, being uncharacteristically grandmotherly. “Where is she, Grammy?” he whispered. His grandmother didn’t pretend to not understand. “I don’t know,” she answered honestly. “She was a superhero when it came to finding you and saving your life. She even rode with you in the ambulance and slept in the waiting room that first night. When you didn’t come around, she left…and I haven’t seen or heard from her since.” Grammy patted his hand. The sympathetic adult wasn’t a role she played often. “How about Brad and Brent? Do they know?” “No, we’ve been waiting. I’ll see if I can get them here for a visit if you’re up to it.” “Maybe in a couple days. I don’t want them to see me like this. It’ll scare them.” Nick leaned back. He was tired all the way to his bones, and weak. He hated being sick, but even he had to admit that he was pretty banged up. Surrounded by the love of his family and the appreciation of his boss, he should have felt better. He knew how close he had come to dying, and he was delighted that the loosies were off the street. It wouldn’t take long for the college kids to find something else that was dangerous and possibly deadly to take its place, but at least this threat was gone. But he’d blown it with Jamie. His accident couldn’t have happened at a worse time in their relationship. Shit…who was he trying to fool? He’d never really had a chance with her. She’d been one of the few people in the world who had a great marriage. Nick had no clue what that even meant. His own marriage had been such a fucking disaster. Apparently relationships just weren’t his thing. Now he wouldn’t even have Harley to go home to. It was a crushing realization. That silly dog had managed to worm his way so deeply into Nick’s heart that there would be a huge void without him. Harley was a DEA agent, and

he deserved an honorable burial. “Bobbi, I have one more request,” he said. “What? A new house? A trip to Italy?” “A funeral for Harley. And not a plot in Paws in Paradise…a real officer’s funeral.” Bobby started to protest but must have seen the stubborn set of his jaw because she nodded. “I guess he deserves it.” “Don’t make those arrangements just yet.” Jamie walked into the room, pulling the flatbed wagon that she used on the farm. Nick’s eyes focused on her face. The heart monitor beeped at the dramatic increase of his heart rate, and he tried to will himself to stay calm. Be cool, dude. Don’t chase her away again. A whine pulled his attention to the wagon as Jamie pulled it next to the bed, and the heart monitor beeped again. “Harley!” he cried. The dog had bandages wrapped around his chest, and one leg was in a cast. One side of his neck had been shaved, and a neat row of stitches stood out against his bare skin. As soon as he saw Nick, he wiggled and tried to stand. Jamie half lifted, half supported him as he struggled to his feet, whimpering and whining in delight at seeing his man. Harley’s thick tail wagged so fast, it was probably leaving bruises, but Jamie didn’t flinch as she helped him get closer. The dog was finally able to reach out and put his good front paw on Nick’s arm. He stretched his nose toward him, sucking in his man’s scent with delight. Every little movement hurt, but Nick managed to wrap his arms around Harley’s big head and bury his face in the dog’s fur. “You big, crazy mutt. I thought you were dead.” “He thought you were too,” Jamie said. “I didn’t think he’d make it through surgery, but he did. Dr. Pendergrass did all he could, but Harley seemed to have lost his will to live. He wouldn’t eat or even try to get up. When I found out you were awake, I thought I’d bring him here to see if that would help.” Nick’s cheeks were suspiciously wet, and he didn’t try to hide it. “This is the best therapy I could have.” He rubbed Harley’s ears. “I think he feels the same way.” As happy as he was to see Harley, it occurred to Nick that Jamie wasn’t here to see him but to help Harley. She was simply doing her job. “Thank you for taking such good care of him.” She gave Harley a hug. “He’s the bravest, most intelligent dog I’ve ever seen. You wouldn’t believe how badly injured he was when he came to Grammy’s. But somehow he figured out how to get from your wreck across a half mile of rocks and pastureland to get help. Then he wouldn’t let himself lie down until he saw me leave to go find you. I know he wanted to go with me, but he was literally almost dead on his feet.” “We can recover together. Between us, we have four good legs.” “You’re going to stay at my house until you’re both well,” Grammy said. “I’ll let you have my bedroom downstairs.” Nick knew he didn’t have a choice. For at least the first couple of weeks he would need help getting around and preparing meals. He hated putting out his grandmother, especially considering what a burden it would be on her.

“Actually, I have a different idea,” Jamie spoke up. “I’ve just remodeled the master bedroom in my house, and Nick could stay there. My house is already handicap accessible, and I’m a veterinarian, so I can take good care of Harley.” All eyes focused on Nick as he considered his options. Of course he wanted to stay with Jamie, but not as an invalid. He was afraid she was taking him on as another one of her strays instead of because she cared about him. “I think we need to talk about a few things first.” “Let’s go get coffee,” Grammy announced. Luke’s expression reflected everyone’s confusion. “You don’t drink coffee.” “Then make it a margarita…a big one.” She hustled everyone out of the room before they could protest further. “That was subtle.” Nick lay back on his pillow, and Jamie eased Harley down into a lying position on the wagon. The dog didn’t take his eyes off his man, but he was exhausted from the effort and was satisfied with being close. Jamie moved next to the bed. “I was hoping we’d get a chance to talk.” “Me too,” Nick agreed. They both simultaneously blurted out, “I’m sorry,” then laughed a little nervously. “You go first,” she said. “No, you.” There was so much he couldn’t say until he knew what she was feeling. “I was terrified you wouldn’t survive.” She blinked back tears at the memory. “You were a mess. I could barely feel a pulse, and you were so cold. I didn’t know if you’d hang on until the ambulance arrived.” “Thank you for that,” Nick said. “But how did you find me?” “I drive that road almost every day, and I noticed the broken guardrail right away. I pulled over, but I couldn’t see your truck until I got to the edge of the embankment.” She wiped her eyes and tried to steady her shaking voice. “I think I went into shock until the next day when I saw you in the ICU. You were so pale and still…like you were dead. I guess that kind of freaked me out.” He could tell this was difficult for her, and he covered her hand with his. “I couldn’t stand to see you like that. It reminded me of…of Mike. I didn’t want to go through that again…so I ran.” “That’s okay. I understand,” he tried to reassure her. “No, it’s not. I picked up Harley from my friend’s office and brought him home. But he was listless and didn’t seem to care about anything. I realized that was exactly how I was feeling. Harley didn’t want to live without you.” She met his gaze hesitantly, almost shyly. “And neither do I,” she added softly. Nick’s heart monitor started beeping faster again. “You don’t know how much I wanted to hear that.” Her expression brightened. “Oh God, really? I was so afraid you wouldn’t care.” “You know the last thought I remember going through my head before I passed out?” “What?” “Regret that I never told you that I love you. I know we’ve both sworn off love, but Jamie,

you’ve shown me that loving someone so much that it hurts isn’t a myth. The sex was fucking great, but I liked just hanging out with you, talking and laughing. When I wasn’t with you, I was thinking about you, and when I was with you, I couldn’t get enough. It’s never been that way with anyone before.” She smiled with relief. “I tried so hard not to fall in love with you. I felt like I wasn’t respecting Mike’s memory. But you brought me back to life. Ever since he died, I’d been moving through my days like a sleepwalker, staying busy so I wouldn’t think about my loss. Then you roared in, so big and strong and full of energy. It was like I took my first deep breath in years.” Her cheeks flushed as she added, “I thought it was just because I hadn’t had sex for so long, and if I slept with you, that would be enough. But it wasn’t.” He grinned. “I was willing to take what you wanted to give me.” “It wasn’t until I almost lost you forever that I realized that loving you is worth the risk,” she admitted, gently squeezing his hand. “I know your job is dangerous, and I’ll never stop worrying about you every time you’re not with me, but I’d rather have a few wonderful days or months or years with you than never see you again.” He pulled her toward him, and she carefully crawled onto the bed next to him, trying not to touch any of his wounds. He was so anxious to hold her, he ignored the pain, cradling her body against his. As soon as she was close enough, his hungry lips captured hers in a deep, delicious kiss. “Hmm…even better than I remembered,” he murmured, not removing his mouth from hers. “I’ve missed you so much,” she whispered. “I meant it when I said I wanted you to move in. I bought new furniture for my bedroom and repainted it a nice shade of blue. You can have it all for yourself or…” “Darlin’, I think I’m going to need round-the-clock care for”—he kissed her again—“the rest of my life.” He pushed her away just enough so he could look into her beautiful blue-green eyes. “I love you, Jamie Chambers.” She exhaled a happy sigh. “And I love you, Nick Archer. Too bad it’s going to be months before I can show you how much.” “Luckily I’m a fast healer.” He pulled her back for another long, passionate kiss. Harley looked up at his two favorite people in the whole world. He knew it would be a fulltime job taking care of them, but he was up for it. His lips spread in a happy doggy smile. People were so easy to train.

All my life I’ve had a dog by my side. This book is dedicated to all of my best four-legged friends, including my two current buddies, Karma (a Yorkie) and Alex (a German shepherd whose personality is a lot like Harley’s). Also, always in my heart and never to be forgotten are Kelly, Bingo, Kiwi, Holly, Tabu, Tigger, Elsa, Jake, Magic, Cricket, Tina, Blackie, and Cindy Lou. I have a plaque that says MY GOAL IS TO BE AS WONDERFUL AS MY DOG THINKS I AM. I try.

BY KATHY CLARK Austin Heroes After Love

Denver Heroes After Midnight Cries in the Night Deep Night

Scandals Due Dates Killer Date Worst Date Ever Life’s What Happens

See You Later (CUL8R) YA series (writing as Bob Kat) Oh My God (OMG) Be Right Back (BRB) Believe It or Not (BION) Rest in Peace (RIP)

KATHY CLARK has always been a storyteller. She published her first book when she was just four years old….Okay, it was self-published (way ahead of the trend). The Little Black Horse That Ran Away was self-illustrated and completely sold out of its first printing (one copy to her mother). Years later, Kathy’s first official book was published by Dell. Since then she has had a total of twenty-six novels published by Random House, Dell, Crown, and Harlequin and seven novels self-published on Amazon. Bob Wernly (Kathy’s husband) came from a corporate background, which doesn’t usually encourage creativity. When he and Kathy came up with the idea for a young adult series, a new team was born. Since 2012 they have written three adult romantic suspense novels in the Denver Heroes series, three new adult romantic suspense novels in the Scandals series (all under the name Kathy Clark), and four YA time travel/romance/mysteries in the See You Later (CUL8R) series (under the pen name Bob Kat). Their books have been honored with numerous awards, including Best Indie Book of the Year, Reader’s Favorite, and Colorado Humanities awards. TheThrillOfSuspense.com @93NightWriter

The Editor’s Corner Bring in the New Year with a new romance from Loveswept—all are specially written with you in mind, so I know you’ll find a story that’s a perfect fit. Elisabeth Barrett returns to Briarwood, an unforgettable place where legacy and longing make dreams come true, in The Best of Me. USA Today bestselling author Jamie K. Schmidt follows with the first book in her new Hawaii Heat series, Life’s a Beach, an irresistible tale of second chances. The bad boys of baseball only get better with Katie Rose’s fourth book in the Boys of Summer series, The Heat Is On, where a homegrown baseball star returns to snag the one that got away. USA Today bestselling author Mira Lyn Kelly finishes her Dare to Love series with Now and Then, a steamy short novel of lost love, second chances, and hidden dangers. New York Times bestselling author Kathy Clark releases After Love, book one in the suspenseful Austin Heroes series. Cecy Robson’s Of Flame and Promise kicks off a sizzling new series in the Weird Girls saga as Celia’s sister Taran fights to have it all. Jessica Lemmon introduces the ultimate bad boy in Forgotten Promises, and Gina Gordon starts her powerful, deeply sensual series Body & Soul where one woman discovers the courage to face life’s greatest challenges in Naked. Let’s get sweet with USA Today bestselling author Laura Drewry and her latest, Off the Hook, part of her Fishing for Trouble series, and Zoe Dawson and her first Laurel Falls novel, Leaving Yesterday, for fans of small-town romance. Sidney Halston’s fans will be happy to know another mixed-martial-arts story is en route with Fighting Dirty, and then Claire Kent has you Taking It Off with a male stripper—yum! Adding to this USA Today bestseller list is a fast MC story from Maisey Yates, Strip You Bare. And Sawyer Bennett is bundling her books from her New York Times bestselling Cold Fury Hockey series. Looking for a few historical romances? Lavinia Kent releases a Regency favorite in Ravishing Ruby, Sharon Cullen brings you back to Culloden in Sutherland’s Secret, and Pamela Labud’s Hunt Club series begins with To Catch a Lady—all with heroes to die for. That’s it for this month—but February is bigger and better than ever before. Hope to see you soon. ~Happy Romance!

Gina Wachtel Associate Publisher

Read on for an excerpt from

Almost Forever

Austin Heroes Book #2

by Kathy Clark

Available from Loveswept

Prologue “Break’s over. Back to work. We need to get this section done before dark.” The job foreman tossed his empty Coke can in the back of the pickup truck and put his hard hat on. The half dozen other men on the crew reluctantly stood and stepped out of the shade of a front-end loader. Even though it was only June, the temperature was already in the upper nineties, promising a brutal summer ahead. Two men wearing orange vests moved their surveying equipment into position. One man peered into the laser level, then straightened. “This would be a lot easier if you guys could move that pile of brush out of the way,” he called. The foreman waved at the loader operator and pointed to a twenty-foot-tall stack of dried mesquite, scrub oak, and cactus. “Load that into the dump truck. We might as well get it out of here now.” The dump-truck driver backed up next to the pile, and the front-end loader moved into position. The rest of the crew stood back and watched as chunk-by-chunk the debris was transferred into the back of the dump truck. One of the surveyors looked around at the one-hundred-acre tract that they were subdividing. “I can’t believe they’re putting in another neighborhood…especially way out here in Dripping Springs.” “Yeah, the Austin area’s booming,” the foreman confirmed. “I heard the guy who owns that vineyard on the left offered big bucks for a piece of this property, but the owner knows he can make more by building luxury homes on small acreage.” The two men studied the vineyards that stretched along the boundaries of the land they were clearing. Row after row of well-groomed vines, loaded with clusters of green grapes, were planted north to south to soak up as much sun as possible. A split-rail fence divided the two vineyards that, otherwise, looked identical. In the distance, several large stone buildings were visible on the property directly in front of them. “Me, I’d rather live on a place like that. Can you imagine looking out at that every day?” the surveyor asked. “Not to mention all the wine you can drink,” the foreman added with an envious chuckle. The operator scooped up another bucketful and started to lift it when the supervisor glanced over his shoulder. He turned and ran to the front of the machine. “Stop, stop! What the fuck is that?” That got everyone’s attention, and they gathered around the bucket, peering inside. There, nestled among the broken branches and twisted tree trunks, was what appeared to be a human skull. It was dark brown, stained from being buried under a layer of dirt and rotting plants for years. The jawbone had separated and slid off to the side in a macabre grimace. “Fuck!” The foreman shook his head. “If this is some sort of ancient burial ground, we’re fucked. The boss is going to shit bricks.”

“I heard of a project down at Marble Falls that got completely shut down,” the surveyor commented. “What was supposed to be a new Wal-Mart is now an historical dig site, swarming with archeologists and historians.” “Damn shame. I like Wal-Mart,” one of the laborers commented. “Yeah, well, I like my job, and finding a body is a fucking ball-buster,” the foreman grumbled. “I could dump this and cover it back up,” the loader operator suggested. “Someone will find it later, but by then we’d be through here. Besides, it’s probably an illegal who didn’t make it to the Promised Land, which will make him just another Juan Doe in the morgue.” The foreman seriously considered the option. It would definitely buy them time. Dozens of Mexicans who managed to make their way across the border died before reaching family or friends. Their bones littered the Texas countryside all the way to El Paso, so this could easily be an unfortunate traveler. Besides, this looked old. He hadn’t seen any skulls in his life, but he knew this one wasn’t fresh. What harm would it do to delay discovery for a few more months? But, in the end, he was an honorable man. This was a human, and whoever the poor sap was, he or she didn’t deserve to spend another day out in this field. “Hey, look at this,” the surveyor said as he bent over and picked up a small object. He held it out on his open palm. “I think this rules out an ancient burial ground or an illegal.” Even after countless years in the ground, the huge diamond in an elaborate platinum setting captured and refracted the sun’s rays into a thousand rainbows. The foreman stared at the ring and felt a little less sympathetic. Whoever could afford an expensive rock like that wasn’t some transient who wandered out in the brush and died. With an unenthusiastic sigh, he pulled out his cellphone. “I’m going to call the local authorities, but I know this is too big for them. I’m sure they’ll turn it over to the Texas Rangers. Shut it down, boys.” The loader operator shut off the engine and climbed out of the cab, and the dump truck driver did the same. All the men migrated back to the shade of the huge machinery and dropped to the ground. They waited until the foreman ended the call. “I’ll stay here, but you guys might as well leave,” he told them. “Check with the office tomorrow for your job assignments. This site is closed indefinitely.” The dump-truck driver tossed his hard hat into the cab and slammed the door. “I’m heading for Broken Spoke for a beer.” Several men murmured their approval, and he led the mass exodus toward the crew pickup truck. The foreman pulled a bottle of water out of an ice chest and settled down for a long wait. Inside the bucket, the skull stared with empty sockets at the blue sky above. He couldn’t speak, but he had a story to tell.

Chapter 1 “Listen, I’m pulling into the parking lot now, J.T. I’ll have to get back to you later.” Justin turned off the main road and drove down a long asphalt-paved driveway. He’d been on this call with the ridiculously rich oil tycoon for the past hour. J.T. was trying to push Justin into running for Lieutenant Governor and was more persistent than poison ivy. It wasn’t that Justin objected to the idea. Politics may be the ultimate end game, but first, he wanted to get a solid career in law enforcement under his belt. Besides, he loved being a Texas Ranger and wasn’t quite ready to be taken out of the action just yet. “You know you’re the ideal candidate,” J.T.’s voice continued through the phone persistently. “Harvard summa cum laude…top of your class at UT Law School…a very successful Texas Ranger…hell, kid, you’d be a perfect candidate.” Justin was doubtful. “Maybe…but what about Grammy?” His very unconventional grandmother, who had toured with most of the famous rock bands in the sixties and seventies, could be found almost every evening sitting on her front porch with a cloud of pot smoke hanging in the air. “What about Grammy?” J.T. repeated. “Everyone knows she’s a harmless old hippie who likes her weed.” “Which, may I remind you, is still illegal in Texas.” J.T. chuckled. “Shit, no one cares about a little pot anymore. Look at Willie Nelson. He’s practically our state mascot.” Justin slowed as he looked for a parking place. Cars were parked on both sides of the driveway, leaving barely enough space for his big SUV to get through. What the hell was going on? As he got closer, he saw a wide canvas banner hanging from the front of a large nativestone building that proclaimed CRYSTAL SPRINGS CELLARS HARVEST FESTIVAL. Well, shit, could he have picked a worse day for this? Justin finally saw an empty space and pulled into it. “What if you’re wrong?” he asked, continuing the conversation on his speaker phone as he parked. “I just don’t think it would play well in the press…Politician’s Pot-head Granny.” “We can handle the press,” J.T. promised. Justin snorted. “With drones, Twitter, and Facebook, no one can handle the press. Besides, what about Nick and Luke? I’m not going to jeopardize their jobs.” “Well, think it over. We’ll talk more later.” “Not a priority right now.” Justin shifted to Park, but didn’t turn off the engine, which would shut down the air conditioner. The last thing he wanted to do was to boil in a vehicle while trying to end the conversation without seeming rude. “Look, I’ve really got to go. It’s hotter than hell out here, and my carbon footprint is growing.” “Where are you?”

“I’m on a case, and you know I can’t talk about it. Take care, J.T., and give Delores my best.” He ended the phone call on what he hoped was an up-note and opened the door of the white state-provided Ford Explorer he called Silver in a homage to the most famous Ranger of all time. Personally, riding a horse would be cooler, but with the miles he had to cover servicing the Austin/San Antonio/Waco area, the Explorer was much more practical. It was a typical hell-hot August afternoon with the temperature hovering around the hundred-degree mark. As soon as he opened the car door, it swept over him like a flash furnace. He picked up his white Stetson off the seat and stepped outside. Justin settled the hat on his head and adjusted his holster. He was wearing the typical, but unofficial uniform of long-sleeved white shirt, khaki pants, dark tie, and cowboy boots. Almost immediately, sweat trickled down the middle of his back as he followed the road to the vineyard. Even the slight breeze didn’t help, but it brought with it the lively sound of music and the buzz of the crowd. He glanced down as his foot caught a stubborn rock in the parking lot. The dry Texas dirt dulled the shiny black boot he had polished the night before. “Shit.” He was proud of what his uniform stood for, and hated to be anything but perfect. With about fifty more yards to go, he tried to focus on his visit this afternoon. Today was officially a courtesy visit to inform the widow of the death of her husband. But since this was a murder investigation, this was also a chance to get a feel for the case. There were a lot of unanswered questions…and he suspected Mrs. Roberts had some interesting answers. Maybe not today, but he had to start somewhere. He would have to go easy. Everyone dealt with grief differently. Even though her husband had been missing for eight years, confirming his death could be unsettling…if she hadn’t been involved. He’d researched the vineyard and its history, so he knew how Mark Roberts’s grandparents had brought the original grape stock over from Italy. The vineyard had passed to their daughter, Isabella, who had married a Scotsman named John Roberts. Mark, their only child, had inherited it about ten years ago and, from all reports, was on the verge of losing it when he disappeared. Somehow, the vineyard had survived and was doing very well…which didn’t add up. And then there were the stories about the trophy wife he had met in a bar in Austin and married after knowing her for only twenty-four hours. Justin had seen her photos, and she was definitely a knockout. It was easy to see why some horny old millionaire would fall for her. But was she also a black widow? Justin finally reached the building and passed through the arched stone opening into the cool interior. The front room was a gift shop with all sorts of wine-related items, as well as a wall of racks holding bottles of the Crystal Springs Cellars’ wine. He glanced around, but didn’t see Mrs. Roberts, so he continued through to the large, wine-tasting room. There was a carved oak circular bar in the middle of the room with barstools all the way around it. Off to the right side was a comfortable-looking lounge with plump leather furniture and a gigantic stone fireplace. And to the left, he could see a dining area. There were people everywhere, tasting, shopping, lounging, eating…and everyone seemed to be having a wonderful time. The whole place had that warm, comfortable feeling of a country home.

There was still no sign of the widow Roberts, so Justin walked out the open double doors leading to the backyard. The crowds were even larger outside. Many were sitting on lawn chairs or on blankets on the ground, listening to the live music from a popular local band. Kids were running and playing on the lush green lawn under sprawling oak trees. A row of vendors were on the outer edge, selling everything from homemade soap to jewelry to paintings of the hill country next to booths with all types of food and baked goods. There was even a large vat where the more adventurous visitors were taking turns stomping grapes. “They’ll have purple legs for a couple of days,” a feminine voice said next to him. He turned to see who was talking, and all coherent thoughts fled his mind. There was no doubt this was the widow Roberts. She was even more stunning than her photos. Long golden blond hair was floating around her shoulders in loose curls. Her eyes were large, wide-set, and the color of the Texas sky on a clear summer day. Luscious lips outlined a dazzling smile of perfect white teeth. She was tall for a woman, only a few inches shorter than his six-foot-two, so they were almost eye-to-eye. Although he didn’t let his gaze wander lower, he could see the promise of killer curves under the low-cut peasant blouse and long, flowery skirt. “Uh…” he said, then gave himself a mental shake. He was a seasoned veteran who never lost his cool, no matter what was happening. This was ridiculous. She was just a pretty…make that gorgeous…woman…who may or may not have murdered her husband. “Good turnout.” “It’s our third festival, and it’s grown every year.” She turned the full wattage of her attention on him and asked, casually, “Are we making too much noise? Or are you checking our age compliance? I can assure you, we’re checking IDs.” “No, ma’am. I have another matter to discuss when you…when you’re available.” She glanced around. “This will wrap up around five. Can it wait until then?” “Sure, no problem.” It had waited for eight years…a few more hours wouldn’t hurt. “Make yourself at home. Check out the wine tastings…but then I guess you can’t since you’re on duty.” “I’ll stick to the lemonade,” he said, nodding toward the booth that advertised freshsqueezed juice. A flustered young Hispanic woman rushed toward them. “Miss Lori, we have a problem in the kitchen. Chef Gino slipped on a spill and thinks he broke his leg.” Without another word, the blond beauty hurried away with the young woman toward the kitchen. It was cooler under the shade of the trees, and Justin wandered around, sampling the food and enjoying a truly delicious glass of lemonade. He joined a tour through the winery building, where the harvested grapes were being processed, and through the keg room, where the barrels were stored. Justin wasn’t much of a wine drinker himself. Give him a cold beer any day over a glass of wine. But as he walked through the various areas and listened to the tour guide’s spiel, he began to appreciate the complexity and art form of crafting wine. No one stopped him, so he drifted away from the crowd at the end of the tour and strolled around the buildings. A couple small houses, probably occupied by employees, were behind the winery building. Across the back of the property were dozens of rows of grapevines

following the gentle hills that were common in this part of Texas. In fact, the area west of Austin was known by the name Hill Country because of its undulating landscape. Off to the left of the main building was a two-story stone house with a metal roof and a wide porch. He assumed this was the Roberts’s residence, although he wasn’t sure if she lived out here or had a place in town. Beyond the house was an orchard of round, dusty gray trees loaded with oval green fruit he recognized as olives. By the time he returned to the festival area, the crowd had begun to dissipate. The vendors were packing the remaining merchandise and dismantling the booths. Most were local artists or bakers who traveled around the state, setting up at fairs or festivals, so the setup and teardown was a smooth operation. Even the band was loading their instruments into the back of a van they had backed up to the wooden stage. Justin sat on a glider that was deep in the shade and watched the orderly windup of the festival. Several of the vineyard workers were emptying and hosing out the grape tub. Obviously, it had been more for show and to give the visitors a memorable experience rather than to actually harvest the juice. But from the volume of products that were being sold in the gift shop, the financial loss of a few dirty grapes wouldn’t be missed. Surrounded by all the lush greenery, there was a peacefulness in spite of the activity going on around him. A tiered stone fountain splashed nearby, its trickling water blocking the other sounds around him. Justin found himself relaxing more than he had in months. His job kept him hopping, so he rarely sat around and did nothing. His only respite was the family dinners at his grandmother’s place almost every Sunday. But since both of his brothers were also in law enforcement, the conversation was usually centered around active or solved cases, so none of them were ever really off the clock. He felt someone plop down on the glider next to him, and he realized he had closed his eyes and maybe even dozed off for a minute. He didn’t even have to look to know Mrs. Roberts had joined him. She smelled like lemons and sunshine, a scent he had noticed earlier. “I see you’ve gotten caught up in the magic of this place,” she said, her voice tired. “No matter how hard I’ve worked during the day, I can come out here and sit for a while, and everything seems better.” He turned to her with a smile. He hadn’t expected her to be so…human. If she was a femme fatale or a killer, she was hiding it well. “Hello ma’am, I’m Justin Archer.” He tipped the brim of his hat. “I apologize for not introducing myself earlier.” “Things were pretty hectic, Mr. Archer. I’m Lori Roberts.” She smiled broadly, her eyes fixed on his as she reached around to shake his hand. “But then I guess you already knew that.” “Pleasure.” Justin shook her hand. What a dumb ass thing to say…pleasure? “Did you take care of your emergency in the kitchen?” She leaned back and exhaled. “I lost my chef for at least a couple weeks. It wasn’t a break, just a nasty sprain. But I know those can sometimes be worse. We were able to finish off the day with the assistant chef, but I’ll have to hire someone temporarily. We have the annual Wine Guild dinner next weekend, and then the olive harvest events the week after that.” She shook her head and sighed.

“I’m sorry to interrupt your festival, but I have some bad news.” Justin didn’t want to break the mood, but he needed to get to the point of his visit. “Is there somewhere more private?” She lifted her head and looked at him. For the first time, worry flickered across her eyes. “Of course.” She stood and started to lead the way to the winery building when a young girl ran up and threw her arms around Lori’s waist. “Mommy, I had so much fun today.” Lori automatically adjusted the barrette that was holding the girl’s long blond hair into a messy ponytail. “I’m so glad.” She glanced back at Justin. “Sweetie, could you go help Raquel in the dining room? I need to talk to this nice man for a minute.” The girl focused her attention on Justin, checking him out with adolescent eyes. Apparently impressed by his uniform, she smiled. “Are you a policeman?” “I used to be, but now I’m a Texas Ranger,” he explained, smiling down at the curious child who looked exactly like a Mini-Me version of her mother. “Do you ride a horse?” “Yes, but not on the job.” “I love horses.” She heaved a long sigh. “We used to have horses…but I was too young to remember.” Justin wasn’t sure what to say. He could stare down killers, but he had no idea how to talk to a kid. He cleared his throat nervously. The girl studied him solemnly. “Are you here to arrest someone?” “No, I’m just here to talk to your mother…” He hesitated when the girl frowned, still concerned about his surprise appearance. “…and to go to the festival,” Justin hurried to add, hoping to take away her doubt. “It was very nice.” It worked. The girl’s frown relaxed, replaced by a sunny smile. “Yes, it was. I helped. My name is Mackenzie. What’s yours?” Justin held out his hand. “Justin Archer. Nice to meet you, Mackenzie.” She shook his hand, then released it. “We’ll have dinner after everyone leaves,” Lori told her with a gentle shove toward the main building. “Okay.” With a flip of her ponytail, Mackenzie galloped away. “She thinks she’s a horse,” Lori told him. “I went through that phase when I was a kid. But we lived in the city, so I had to get my horse-fix at the rodeo every year.” She watched until her daughter disappeared inside before Lori turned back to Justin. “Follow me.” She led the way back to the winery building and through the arched double-wide oak doors. Justin had to walk fast to keep up with her and then paused just inside the door as his eyes adjusted from the bright sunshine to the cool darkness. The fragrance of fresh grapes mixed with oak filled the air. All of the workers were outside, cleaning up, so there was no one else in the building. Lori continued through the processing room to a small area in the back that was furnished with several high-topped tables and comfortable bar stools. Two upholstered couches were in one corner, creating a cozy seating area. The floor and walls were stone, and the ceiling was wooden with heavy, oak beams.

“This is our private tasting room for special customers,” Lori explained and motioned for him to take a seat on one of the couches. Justin waited for her to sit, then sat across from her. “Very nice,” he said, referring to artwork that had lined their path and decorated the walls. “They’ve been in the family for years.” She picked up a decanter on the coffee table and poised it over a long-stemmed goblet. “Are you still going to pass on that glass of wine, Mr. Archer?” “Unfortunately, Mrs. Roberts. Maybe another time.” “You should stop by when you’re off duty. We have live music every weekend and all sorts of events until the end of the summer.” She poured a glass for herself and lifted it to her lips. “And please, call me Lori.” Justin smiled, then remembered that he wasn’t there on a social call, and the smile quickly disappeared. He looked at her and struggled to keep from getting lost in her clear blue eyes. He wished they could talk about the vineyard, her daughter, where Lori liked to go on vacation, her favorite food…how she felt about dating lawmen…anything but what he really needed to discuss with her. In all his years of police work, he had never been so distracted by a person involved in a case. “So Ranger Archer, what can I do for you today?” Justin forced his thoughts back to the matter at hand. Ignoring her request to use her first name, he said, “Mrs. Roberts, as you are probably aware, a survey team found a body behind your property two months ago.” She sipped her wine and watched him over the rim. “I heard they’ve been given the all-clear to resume construction.” “Yes, all the evidence has been gathered, and the results of the DNA tests are in.” He paused for effect, then continued solemnly. “I’m very sorry to inform you that the remains we recovered are your husband’s.”

Love stories you’ll never forget By authors you’ll always remember eOriginal Romance from Random House readloveswept.com Follow us online for the latest new releases, giveaways, exclusive sneak peeks, and more! readloveswept readloveswept

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