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  It didn’t help to have the media hyping up every assault and accidental gun discharge as a potentially linked crime. Media aside, public opinion remained divided between Demi as the prime suspect and someone successfully framing her. Shane couldn’t help clear her name if she wouldn’t communicate.

  He glanced at his patiently waiting dog and sighed as he pocketed his phone. “Let’s go.” Clearly delighted, Stumps trotted forward once more.

  Shane’s thoughts moved away from the gun deal case to Demi’s situation. He supposed the best first step would be sharing this text with his half brother Brayden. Like Shane, he would be relieved to have some news from her. Brayden was also a K9 officer in the RRPD unit and more importantly, he’d never had a moment’s doubt about Demi’s innocence.

  They were on one of Stumps’s favorite routes this evening, following a walking path that wound away from the street and circled the K9 training center, where he’d met and trained with the dog to become an evidence team.

  Smart as a whip on the job, Stumps knew how to have fun when he and Shane weren’t working. They were strolling along, Stumps sniffing out every detail of what he’d missed in recent days, while Shane continued to ponder the Groom Killer case. Suddenly, Stumps halted, ears perked. He sat down, his nose pointed at the training center fence.

  “I know,” Shane said absently. “We have more classes next month.” He spent working time with Stumps every day, regardless of their caseload. A few times a year, they returned to the training center for various classes to keep them both sharp on the job and current with techniques.

  Distracted with two cases playing bumper cars in his head, Shane took another step or two before he realized that Stumps was at alert. Giving the area his full attention, he paused and listened, hearing the unmistakable whine of young puppies on the other side of the fence. Underneath the whimpers, he heard an occasional spate of barking from the kennels. That didn’t make any sense. He shouldn’t be able to hear those sounds so clearly unless a door was open. Something had the dogs riled up. How had puppies wound up in this part of the yard alone?

  The training center staff didn’t make mistakes like this with their dogs. Concerned, Shane put a hand on his gun and signaled Stumps to lead the way. Casual walk or not, with a killer roaming around Red Ridge, he didn’t go out unarmed anymore.

  Silently, they approached the fence, the sounds of the distressed puppies growing louder. Stumps abruptly sat again, back straight, and nose aimed at the gate as if he could see right through it. Something out of place had grabbed his attention again. Shane peered over the fence and swore.

  Sprawled on the ground, her head lolled to one side and one leg bent awkwardly beneath her, was Danica Gage. Two fuzzy puppies, obviously training center newbies, were doing their best to rouse her. The shadows of the woods behind him swallowed the light, and the glow of the security light over the open back door wasn’t enough for him to tell if she was alive or dead.

  “Danica?” he called in a hoarse whisper.

  Why did it have to be her? Since his return to Red Ridge nearly ten years ago, he did his best to avoid anyone named Gage. Not an easy task in a town originally founded by the Colton and Gage families. Although the dark bitterness lurking inside him urged him to believe the worst of her, that she’d landed in that pose due to her own errors, he knew better.

  Danica was a top-notch professional. She’d been their lead trainer when he and Stumps first began working together three years ago. With enough fiery energy packed into her petite body to power the sun, she was dedicated to her career and the dogs entrusted to her. And though he hated to dwell on it, by pairing him with Stumps she’d breathed new hope into his life when he’d been on the verge of giving up.

  He glanced at Stumps. “Good boy.” Gage or not, they couldn’t just call this in and walk away. In a perfect world, he’d give his dog a treat and let the police take over. This scene had too many unknowns to wait.

  “Danica?” he tried again. The lack of any sounds other than the dogs made him nervous. If her attacker was still lurking around he—or she—was being damn quiet about it.

  He thought she was breathing, but it was hard to tell in the lousy light, with the puppies crying and climbing all over her, leads trailing in their wake. They were stepping on her hair and hands, tripping over her legs, and she gave no visible reaction. “Please don’t be dead,” he muttered as he pulled out his phone and dialed the police station for backup.

  With the promise of assistance on the way, Shane pocketed his phone again and let Stumps know they were back in working mode as they moved toward the back gate. He was pleased the gate was closed, but it was unlocked. Shane had spent enough time at the training center to know the policy was to keep the gate locked for the protection of the dogs, the staff and the community.

  Drawing his gun, he flicked off the safety and let Stumps take the lead as they walked into the yard. One of the hinges squeaked as he closed the gate behind them for the safety of the puppies that were loose. He knew he was potentially contaminating the scene, but he wasn’t about to leave her there until it could be cleared.

  Stumps didn’t alert Shane to any further trouble as they crossed the yard and approached Danica’s unmoving form. The worried puppies cranked it up another octave, bracing at the sight of Stumps, while staying close to her.

  Shane hoped their behavior meant she was alive, but he didn’t lower his guard. “Stay,” he said to Stumps, before he released the lead. His dog sat, ears perked, eyes on Shane.

  Curious, the puppies lurched forward and then tumbled back to Danica, over and over. “Easy now,” Shane crooned to the puppies as he knelt down. Malinois, he saw now, recognizing the distinct black faces, fawn coats, huge ears and long tails. “Have you been keeping an eye on her?” They were so obviously untrained that he didn’t think the puppies posed any threat, but he wasn’t in the mood to wrestle or deal with needle-sharp puppy teeth.

  “All right, you two. Move over and let me have a look.”

  Shane pressed his fingers to the pale skin of her throat, relieved to find a pulse. Slow and steady, it seemed much stronger than her shallow breathing. Fortunately, an ambulance would be here soon. “Danica?” He smoothed her red-gold hair back from her face, trying to ignore the silky texture against his fingertips. “Can you hear me?”

  One of the puppies whined, his tail sweeping across Danica’s face as he strived for Shane’s attention, and the other shoved his head under Shane’s elbow, seeking comfort. “She’ll be fine.” He wasn’t sure if he was trying to convince the puppies or himself.

  Glancing back, he saw Stumps watching as if such raucous displays were beneath him. When his corgi was working, that was true enough, yet Shane made sure he got plenty of time each day just to be a dog and give his innate silliness an outlet.

  Drawing the puppies aside, he continued to look Danica over. She was slightly built, but her confidence in the training classes gave her such a big presence he always forgot that she was short. Lying at such an awkward angle, her hair tangled, she looked almost breakable. His temper flared at the idea of anyone assaulting her.

  There was no sign of blood and he struggled against the urge to straighten out that bent leg. He wouldn’t risk moving her, in case there were injuries from the fall that he couldn’t see. Nearby, a siren wailed and flashing lights darted into the night sky. The police department was nearby but an ambulance dispatched from the hospital on the other side of town might take a bit longer.

  “She’ll be fine,” he said again, gathering the leads on the puppies. He should take them back into a kennel, yet he didn’t want to leave her out here alone.

  Needing a distraction, Shane picked up the puppies. “Stumps, come.” The corgi hustled into action, stopping at Shane’s foot. “Seek.”

  He didn’t have any better direction to give the dog. If there was something that didn’t belong in
the area, Stumps would find it. The stocky legs carried him all around Danica, and he snuffled where the puppies had rubbed against Shane’s running shoes and jeans.

  As he systematically explored the rest of the yard, Shane soothed the puppies and tried to sort out what had happened that Danica landed just like this.

  She moaned, her limbs shifting slowly as if she was moving through thick sand. The puppies squirmed in his arms, eager to reach her. Shane was surprised how much he shared the sentiment. He kept a firm hold on the puppies as her eyelids fluttered open. Eyes he knew to be the pale green of springtime stared up at the sky before darting about, finally landing on him.

  “Relax, Danica,” he said. “You’re safe now.”

  CHAPTER 2

  Danica knew that voice. Shane. Through the fog in her mind, she wondered why she wouldn’t be safe. This was Red Ridge. She’d always been safe here. She blinked, or tried to. Her eyelids were so heavy they just wanted to stay closed. Maybe she should give in. Sleep sounded like a good plan. Her arms and legs felt as if they were weighted or buried. As she rolled her head from side to side, her neck ached and the scent of grass tickled her nose. How had she wound up out here on the ground?

  “What happened?” The words were hard to get past her parched lips. And why was he here?

  “Stay still,” that deep voice rumbled, dark as the night sky overhead. “Help is almost here.”

  “Help?” It didn’t sound like the worst idea to wait, but her pride was taking a beating as she lay here while he stood over her. She heard the yip of puppies and recalled the new Malinois. “Are you holding the new puppies?”

  She would like a better look at the tough, inscrutable Shane holding a couple of energetic three-month-olds. Ignoring her aching muscles, she tried to make out his expression through the weak light and her blurry vision. She knew he lived nearby, but she was a Gage. It seemed more likely Shane would be here to gloat over a Gage in trouble than help her out of any crisis.

  He didn’t like her or anyone in her family—with good reason.

  Her gaze moved to the wriggling Malinois pups, one cradled on each of his forearms, his large hands supporting their chests. “Where is Stumps?” She tried to take a deep breath and sit up. Her body fought her on both actions.

  “Stay put,” Shane said. “Stumps is working.”

  This time when she looked up, she could see the hard line of his square jaw and the grim set of his lips. His blue eyes would be stern and cold. It was the expression she privately referred to as judge and jury. Since his return to Red Ridge several years ago, he seemed to look at the world through that singular mien. “Why are you here?” she asked. Of everyone in the RRPD, why did Shane have to be the first at her side? And who had called him in?

  “I guess I’m that kind of lucky,” he replied.

  Her thoughts were too muddled to make sense of any of this. Ignoring his suggestion to stay put, she sat up. “How did the puppies get out?”

  “I assume you brought them out,” Shane replied, lowering himself to a knee as puppy feet pawed at air, scrambling to get close to her. “Do you remember anything?”

  She took one puppy into her arms, soothing herself as much as the dog as she tried to think. “Not really.” Her eyesight cleared much faster than her mind. Logic said she was on the overnight shift for the new arrivals, but her memory was a blur. “Who called the RRPD?”

  “I did.” His sandy eyebrows drew together. “Stumps and I were on a walk and he sensed something wrong here in the yard. RRPD and an ambulance should be here any minute.”

  She glanced around for Stumps and found him sitting in an alert position, his gaze trained on the door to the kennels. “I’ll thank him later.” She tipped her head toward the building. “Looks like he’s still on the job.”

  Shane’s expression tightened even more. “Is there another way inside?” he asked, his voice low at her ear.

  “Only the front and back doors you know about.”

  “Where is the ambulance?” he wondered aloud.

  “You need to investigate,” she said.

  “I don’t want to leave you out here alone.” He scowled. “Do you think you can stand?”

  At her nod, he helped her to her feet, both of them dodging the antics of the excitable puppies. When she had the leads in hand and the puppies under control, they walked to the door where Stumps waited.

  “Hang on.” He drew his gun. He and the dog went through the door first. He moved into the shadows, peering down each row. “Hit the lights,” he called.

  She did. Several of the younger dogs were restless, whining, barking or up and pacing in their crates. The fully trained dogs sat quietly, or were stretched out, curious but patient. Somewhere out of sight, a beagle bayed pitifully. Danica recognized the voice of Stella, a sweet-natured two-year-old being trained for a tracking career.

  Shane walked back into view, squinting against the bright glare of the fluorescent lights with Stumps trotting at his heel. “Best way to your office?”

  She was a little surprised he didn’t know. “Straight ahead, through the door, second door on the right. Shouldn’t we kennel the puppies?”

  “Not yet,” he replied, his voice flat. “Stay close.” His gun raised against any threat, he cleared the hallway and her office. Lowering his weapon, he held the door for her. “Lock yourself in and wait for backup,” he ordered. “I’m going to see what Stumps can find.”

  She tried to protest but he pinned her with that unrelenting, chilly blue gaze. It wasn’t a look any argument would overcome. She sat down at her desk and soothed the puppies with soft words and warm caresses. She wanted to be out in the kennels, sorting out the situation. Helping. The dogs needed a familiar face and the quickest possible return to their routine. At this rate, tomorrow’s training plans would fall on deaf dog ears after the disruptions tonight.

  Despite the sirens they’d heard outside, it seemed to be taking forever for anyone to actually arrive. She wondered what he’d told them when he made the call after Stumps had found her. What had they been doing walking out this way? She supposed it could have been a case. Knowing he worked private cases as well as assignments for the RRPD, that thought didn’t give her much comfort.

  When Shane had been training to partner with Stumps, she’d tried time and again to reach out and bridge the abyss of resentment between him and the Gage family. Shane hadn’t been the least bit interested in her efforts. Stumps she remembered fondly from those days and enjoyed whenever he returned for a refresher.

  His partner, Shane, not so much. Tall and ripped, with sandy blond hair and hard eyes, he’d given her shivers—not all of them good. He was wonderful to look at, but he carried a chip on his shoulder the size of the nearby mountains, though she could hardly blame him.

  As she pulled a bag of dog treats from her lower desk drawer, she trembled at the memory of asking Shane about his choice to become a private investigator rather than going through the academy to become a police officer.

  “Someone should keep cops honest,” he’d replied in that flat tone that unnerved her. “I nominated myself.”

  The Colton and Gage families had been feuding since the first days of Red Ridge. But Shane harbored more resentment than all the generations before him. His words, dripping with well-aged hatred, were a clear warning to mind her own business. Danica considered herself a quick study and she’d lost her courage to share how his predicament had affected her own career choices.

  “His predicament,” she muttered to the puppies. What a pathetic understatement for wrongful imprisonment. Weary and inexplicably sad, she managed to get the puppies to sit and rewarded them accordingly as she tried to purge the past she couldn’t change from her mind.

  That exchange years ago had convinced her Shane would never find a way to forgive her grandfather for the dreadful mistakes that had cost Shane his free
dom and so much more. She understood why he hated them all collectively, but she’d never quite been able to stop wishing she could fix it. She studied the bright eyes in the two attentive faces watching her. “Why can I remember the past just fine and have no idea what happened to us tonight?”

  * * *

  With Danica as safe as possible, Shane backtracked with Stumps. He heard vehicles out front and the flashing lights were bouncing off the side of the brick building, spilling into the yard. At the door between the yard and the kennel, he drew his gun once more and set Stumps to searching again. Stumps moved with purpose, Shane’s encouragement following him, as he confidently trotted into the kennel and searched the rows.

  Shane noted the various dog breeds along the route. Had this been a visit for a refresher course, he would have appreciated the soft-eyed basset hound or given reassurances to the enormous Newfoundland who watched Stumps work with obvious concern. It was easy to judge the progress of each dog’s training by how they reacted to the disruption. The fully trained dogs were quietly observant. The dogs still in progress whined or barked as Stumps and Shane passed.

  Stumps abruptly turned down an aisle that seemed deserted. He’d clearly caught the scent of something that didn’t belong. Stumps walked a bit further and then dropped into a perfect alert pose in front of an open kennel. Shane read the tag on the door and swore.