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Search and Rescue

by Valerie Hansen

ONE

S
ophie Williams faced Desert Valley's new police chief, Ryder Hayes, with a smile, hoping he wouldn't ask what she was up to and object before she had a chance to convince him she was acting for his benefit.

Anybody would be tense about taking over as chief after Earl Jones finally retired, but Ryder had received a double whammy. He'd discovered that he'd been working beside his late wife's murderer, and the killer of others, for over five years. Former police department secretary Carrie Dunleavy had fooled everyone and had disappeared weeks ago, just as Ryder and his team had discovered she was the killer they'd been after for months. The whole town was unbelievably on edge. No wonder the new chief had been a tad short-tempered lately.

“I'm going to make a quick run to town and back,” Sophie told him, noting his scowl in response.

“Be careful. You may have been a cop once,” Ryder said, “but you're a dog trainer now.”

That was a low blow.
Sophie clenched her jaw while the chief brushed a speck of lint off his dark blue uniform and continued as if clueless. “We all have to be on guard,” he said. “There's no telling where Carrie is or whether she's through killing people. There's nothing normal about Carrie. I have a feeling she's sticking close to town, watching us.”

Given the shrine to Ryder that had been found in Carrie's home, Sophie had to agree. Carrie was in love with Ryder, had killed his wife, had killed two rookie K-9 officers who were like stand-ins for him. Why she'd murdered Sophie's predecessor, lead dog trainer Veronica Earnshaw or had attacked prominent resident Marian Foxcroft, no one knew yet. Until Ryder and his rookies had answers, until Carrie was behind bars, everyone had to be careful. Sophie nodded. “I'll keep my eyes open.” She tossed back her shoulder-length blond hair and faced him with a determined look.

He arched a brow. “Are you carrying?”

“Of course.” She patted a flat holster clipped inside the waist of her jeans and further hidden by her blue T-shirt. “I won't be out and about for long. I'm going to the train station to pick up a dog.”

“Why didn't you say so in the first place?”

“Because I wanted to surprise you.”

She watched Ryder stroke the broad head of the old yellow Labrador retriever at his feet. The Desert Valley K-9 training center hadn't been running regular sessions since the last rookie class had been temporarily assigned to help in the investigation of the murders and attacks they now knew Carrie had committed. Therefore, Ryder was highly likely to suspect Sophie was picking up a potential replacement dog for him.

“I don't appreciate that kind of surprise,” he said.

Sophie rebuked him gently. “Look. Poor old Titus is more than ready for retirement. We both know that. And your little girl will love having him as a full-time pet. It's not as if you're abandoning him.”

Ryder passed his hand over his short, honey-colored hair, clearly frustrated. “Lily already plays with Titus every night when I go home. He and I are a team. It's as if he can read my mind. This is
not
the right time to trade him for a newer model.”

“Maybe it isn't for you,” Sophie said. “But what about what's best for your dog? We both know he'd keep going until he dropped in his tracks because he's so dedicated. Is that what you want?”

“Of course not.”

“Then trust me.” She began to grin as she headed for the door. “The paperwork's all taken care of. I'll be back in a flash.”

She was still smiling a few minutes later when she parked at the small railroad station and climbed out of her official K-9 SUV.

Dry August heat hit her in a smothering wave. Thankfully, the scheduled train was already there so she wouldn't have to stand on the outdoor platform for long.

Sophie was always eager to get a new dog but it was not normal for her to feel this nervous. That was the chief's fault. He'd planted seeds of apprehension when he'd suggested that Carrie might still be in the vicinity, and that possibility kept Sophie from fully enjoying herself.

A sparse crowd was beginning to disembark as she approached. She shaded her eyes.
There!
A slim, young police cadet had stepped down and turned, tugging on a leash. The welcome sight brightened her mood. Grinning, she offered her hand to the courier. “Hello! I've been expecting you. I'm Sophie Williams.”

“This is Phoenix,” the young man said, indicating the silver, black and white Australian shepherd cowering at his feet. “I hope you have better success with him than we did.”

“I've read his file.” She let her free hand drop in front of the medium-size dog, ignoring him as he sniffed her fingers. As soon as the three-year-old canine began to visibly relax, she said, “You can pass me the leash now.”

“I don't know, ma'am. He's pretty skittish. You sure you don't want me to walk him over to your car and crate him for you?”

“That's the last thing I want,” Sophie said. “Did he give you trouble on the train?”

“Not to speak of. I kept a good tight hold. He mostly just sat on my feet and shook a lot.”

She grasped the end of the leash, gave it slack and took several steps back before asking. “Is he shaking now?” The way the courier's eyes widened almost made her laugh. Instead, she politely bade him goodbye, turned and walked away with Phoenix at her side. Every maternal instinct in her was on standby, yet she knew better than to fawn over the dog too soon.

“You already have a lot in common with your new partner,” Sophie said softly, watching Phoenix's ears perk up. “He's hard to get to know, too, although who can blame either of you? He lost his life's partner and, in a way, so did you when your handler died in the line of duty.”

As they approached the parking lot Phoenix hung back, putting tension on the leash.

“Heel,” Sophie ordered, firmly but calmly.

The dog refused to budge.

She faced him, the leash slightly loose. “What is it, boy? We were doing so well. What's scaring you?”

Phoenix was sitting with his back arched and head lowered as if trying to hide in plain sight.

The poor animal was terrified. Sophie's heart went out to him and she broke her own rule. Gathering the leash as she slowly edged closer, she dropped into a crouch so she and Phoenix were eye to eye.

A loud bang echoed fractions of a second later. Sophie recognized a rifle shot and instinctively ducked before she'd fully processed what was happening.

The already-traumatized dog surged toward her. She opened her arms to accept him just as a second shot was fired. Together they scrambled for safety behind her SUV.

She was reaching up for the door handle when a third bullet took out the windshield.

Shouting for bystanders to take cover and waving them away, Sophie drew her weapon and cocked it, prepared to defend herself—and praying she wouldn't have to.

* * *

Ryder was livid. And more afraid than he dared let on. “I
told
her to watch herself out there. Who called it in?”

“Sophie was the first. She said she was ready to return fire but never did get a bead on the shooter.”

“Description?”

The dispatcher shook her head. “Some callers said it was a man and some said a woman.”

Ryder rounded on the pack of rookies who had been made his temporary deputies. “Let this be a lesson to all of you. Never let your guard down. Now get your dogs and gear and let's roll.” He pointed to the bloodhound's handler, James Harrison. “Especially you and Hawk. I want
evidence
.”

“Yes, sir.”

The chief glanced over at the whiteboard as he prepared to leave the police station. It was all there. Every victim's photo, including that of his late wife, Melanie. It didn't matter how much it hurt him to keep seeing her picture, it had to stay posted. She was an integral part of Carrie's crime spree; the beginning, the key, for the simple fact she happened to be married to him.

Ryder tore himself away and raced for his car. Enough people had already died at the hands of the madwoman who wanted him, or his blond look-alikes, to fulfill her distorted sense of romantic destiny. It must stop now. They were not going to lose one more life. Not on his watch.

Sirens howling and lights flashing, he and the others pulled out onto Desert Valley Road. Ryder floored the accelerator. Multiple incoming reports had not mentioned any victims, but he needed to see for himself. Sophie Williams might be hardheaded but she was a great dog trainer. He'd hate to lose her.

Was that the only reason his pulse was pounding? he asked himself. Probably not. It was true that all his deputies and the staff at the training center were special to him, yet he and Sophie had occasionally seemed to connect on a deeper level. Which was another strong reason for him to keep his distance. If Carrie imagined that he and Sophie were even good friends it might be enough to put the innocent trainer in the crosshairs. Which was exactly where she had ended up today.

Ryder's pulse jumped as he skidded to a stop outside the Tudor-style depot. There she was! Sophie was not only on her feet, she was pointing and apparently giving directions to other arriving officers.

Ryder hit the ground running. “Keep your head down.”

“The shooter's long gone,” she called back.

He stopped beside her, on high alert despite her assurances. “You okay?”

“Yeah. I hate to think what might have happened if I hadn't bent over when I did.”

Ryder's jaw clenched. He started to grab her arm, then stopped himself. “Get in the car and fill me in.”

“It's too hot for that.”

“I'm running the auxiliary air in my unit. Come on.”

“Titus is with you?”

“No. I left him in my office.” When Sophie didn't move quickly he scowled. “Well?”

“Just a second. I need to coax Phoenix to come with us on his own. I don't want to muscle him into obedience.”

A mottled, grayish muzzle poked from beneath the damaged SUV as Sophie spoke softly and reached out. Ryder didn't know what to say. If that sorry excuse for a K-9 cop was supposed to be his new partner, the obstinate trainer had better rethink her plans. No way was he going to accept a trembling basket case in place of a heroic partner like Titus.

The new dog slunk over to Sophie and pressed against her lower legs as she straightened. “This is Phoenix.”

“Um...”

“He'll come around. He's already better than he was when he arrived. I had a courier bring him so he wouldn't be frightened by being treated like freight.”

“I don't think it helped,” Ryder said flatly. “If he crouched any lower he'd be crawling on his belly like a commando.”

“Trust me.” Sophie gave him a slight smile. “I really believe you and this dog will work out together. He needs a strong, seasoned handler like you, and you need a replacement partner.”

“I need a good partner, emphasis on
good
.”

“He will be. You know we don't have the funds right now to bring in a fully trained K-9, and this one deserves a second chance. If it happens he doesn't work out, we can think about pairing you with one of the younger dogs. They're just not ready yet.”

“If you say so.” He opened the rear door and waited until Sophie managed to load the dog, then held the passenger side for her. As she slid into the car he was struck by her courage and calm expertise despite the danger she'd just faced. That was part of the problem he had with her. She was very good and she knew it, which made her far less tractable.

Ryder smiled to himself. If she'd gotten a dog with those same tendencies she'd have been quick to send it away as a pet or maybe farm it out to the service dog program that Desert Valley Police Department rookie Ellen Foxcroft had recently started.

He could tell Sophie was studying him as he slid behind the wheel. When she asked, “Why are you grinning?” he decided to tell her.

“Just thinking. If you got a dog half as obstinate as
you
are, he'd wash out of the program in a heartbeat.”

“There's a fine line between being dedicated and being foolish. I see myself as dedicated.”

Although he wanted to remain aloof he couldn't help chuckling. “Dedicated to running things your way, you mean.”

She shrugged, reflecting wry humor in her twinkling hazel eyes. “Hey, if my way is the best way, why not?”

Ryder sobered immediately and glared over at her. “Just make sure it doesn't get you killed.”

Sophie knew she had barely cheated death at the railway depot. In order to cope and remain functional, she usually relegated troubling thoughts to a separate part of her psyche. This time, however, it was a bit harder to do. The tight expression on Ryder's face didn't help.

Sophie was half-turned in her seat, checking on the condition of the dog in the back, when the vehicle began to move. “Hey! Where are we going?”

“Away from here,” he said.

“Why? I told you the danger is over. It has to be with all those K-9 rookies milling around. What did you do, bring the whole team?”

“Yes.”

Viewing his profile, Sophie admired his strong jaw and muscled forearms. He was every bit a chief, in demeanor as well as appearance. The way he carried himself spoke more loudly than words, and his pristine blue uniform fit perfectly, unlike the way the previous chief's shirt had strained to stay buttoned over his ample stomach.

Ryder apparently sensed her attention because he glanced to the side. “What?”

“Nothing.” Sophie was afraid she was blushing. “I was just thinking.”

“About the shooter?”

“Right. The shooter. Why assume it was Carrie? I mean, would she suddenly switch to a rifle when her previous weapon of choice was a handgun?”