Irresistible Force (32 page)

James stroked his thick coarse pelt, readying them both for action. “
Gute Hund!
We’re going hunting, Bogart. Just like last night.”

He picked his dog up and set him down on the drive. They had made a near-perfect score in a dark-building search last night. They were fresh and ready. But each search had its own unknowns. And this time their target was armed with real ammunition.

Bogart stood with his tail held high and the muscles beneath his coat bunched, reacting, James knew, to his handler’s adrenaline rush feeding down the leash. Yet he waited for James’s command.

James gave a thumbs-up to the deputy and then moved out.

Walking carefully, James circled the building with Bogart. They moved as quietly and cautiously as possible, listening for sounds of movement within. The only sound other than distant background noise of the night was that of Bogart’s panting.

James pressed himself against the side wall and then peered cautiously around the corner. There was no way to tell if the suspect had bolted out the back. That was the greatest concern, that the SOB had gotten away. He pulled his FLIR and scanned the wooded area behind the building. He didn’t see anything moving.

Giving Bogart a bit of lead, they moved to the back of the building and inched toward the back door. It was still closed. He was glad to see that it wasn’t very sturdy or paneled with glass that might allow him to be seen by the suspect inside. It would be their best way of entry. But first he needed to focus the suspect’s attention on the front door.

They retreated to the front of the building. James signaled to the deputy that as far as he could tell, the man was still inside.

From a protected position beside the sheriff, James lifted his head and shouted, “Police K-9 Unit! Surrender or I will send the dog in and you will be bitten.”

James gave the alert for Bogart to bark.
“Gib laut!”

Bogart responded enthusiastically. Straining against his collar, he barked loud and piercing, enough to send shivers up the most hardened criminal’s back.

After ten seconds James called him off.
“Ruhig. Platz.”

Bogart dropped back into position beside his handler, shivering with energy but silent.

James leaned forward, listening for any sound. This time all he heard was the distant wail of a police siren. That would be the state police. He wanted the satisfaction of this takedown himself. They needed to move out.

“You keep him entertained. We’re going in from the rear.”

Deputy Ward smiled. “My pleasure.” He reared up and shouted, “Sheriff’s department. Put down your weapon and come out. You hear them sirens? State patrol’s on the way, son. You’re done!”

Moving quickly, James and Bogart took up a tactical position at the rear of the building by a dumpster. He hunkered down and stroked his partner. “We just did this yesterday. Textbook. We got this.”

He unleashed Bogart, gave him a good hard pat, took in a quick breath and drew his weapon. When they came even with the back door he placed a strategic kick by the knob.

The crack of wood was as loud as a gunshot as the door flew open.
“Revier! Fass!”

Bogart shot through the doorway, barking like a four-footed fanged avenger. James heard a man’s cry of alarm and then the sound of scurrying footfalls as he entered through the door behind his partner. Night goggles revealed a man in silhouette. He heard a shot and saw a flame of report.

His heart stopped. And then he saw Bogart leaping at the man with tremendous ferocity and they went down. The man screamed as James rushed them.

“Put the gun down! Gun down now!”

The man was kicking and thrashing, trying to throw Bogart off, but he was locked on tight. The dog fought back, thrashing and jerking as he held the man down. The man screamed again and again until, finally, James heard him release the gun with a clatter on the floor.

Flipping his night-vision goggles up, he scooped the weapon up out of the way.

Deputy Ward burst through the front door, gun in one hand and a high-beam flashlight in the other. What he saw brought a smile to his face. “Well, lookie there.”

Bogart was still locked into place, all four paws firmly braced along the man’s chest as he clamped the man’s shoulder between his teeth.

“Bogart!
Aus.
” Bogart released his prey instantly.

James reached into his pocket and withdrew a ball. As it bounced away, Bogart leaped after it like a puppy at play.

The deputy whistled. “Well, what do you know?” It never failed to impress civilians how quickly a well-trained dog could go from vicious attacker to playful pup.

With the deputy standing guard, James rolled the man over and cuffed him. Then he dragged him up to his knees by the back of his shirt and thrust his face into the man’s. “Where is she? Where is Shay Appleton?”

The man sneered at him. “Fuck you!”

James looked up. “Bogart!
Fuss!
” His partner came running.

The man’s eyes got big. “Okay! Okay! She ran away. Into the woods.” He cowered away from James’s grasp of his collar as Bogart growled. “Don’t let him bite me again!”

James wouldn’t do that but he wasn’t about to let this man know that. He tightened his grip, pressing his knee into the man’s back. “You don’t want to fuck with me right now. Is she hurt?”

The man glanced fearfully from James to Bogart. “I don’t know. She set fire to the place. She’s a crazy bitch.”

*   *   *

James drove back to the cabin at breakneck speed. There was no one on the dark country road this time. He found the firemen already beginning to clean up.

He checked with the few remaining onlookers, asking about Shay, but none of them had seen a woman of her description. Every negative shake of a head made his gut twist. Where could she be? With all the commotion of fire and people, she must know it was safe to show herself, unless she was unable.

He block-checked that thought. She was hiding, and he and Bogart would find her. End of story.

The older fireman waved James over when he saw him. “We saved a good part of the structure. Of course, the living room will have to be rebuilt. Damnedest thing. Looks like the fire started under an easy chair. And it wasn’t sparks from the fireplace. The hearth is cold.”

James tucked that information away. Right now he needed to start the search for Shay. “I’ll check with you later. There’s a missing woman out here somewhere.”

With Bogart on the leash, he went first to Shay’s car door. James frowned when he saw the paper patch on the driver’s side. He tore it off, swearing inventively when he saw the word etched into the paint. He had more to make up for than he thought. It made him want to go back and assault an unarmed man.

But the thought of finding Shay pressed him harder.

He opened the car door and picked up a sweater he found lying on the passenger’s seat. He held it up to his nose and inhaled. It smelled of Shay. And, just maybe, forever.

When he’d given his partner a good sniff, too, he gave Bogart the command to search.
“Such!”
He made a motion with his hand. “
Voraus! Such!
Shay!”

Bogart circled the trampled yard in some confusion. Many feet and vehicles had passed through the open area because of the fire.

James held his impatience in check but it was hard. He had to trust his partner. He did trust his partner. He gave him more leash, letting him form his own opinion of what to do next. They were in the dark at the edge of the grassy lawn when Bogart’s tail went up.

James grinned and came running up behind him. “
Such!
Shay!”

Bogart took off.

He was glad he worked out regularly. The terrain was mostly flat but the trail led through woods with shriveled vines and boulders, and without the aid of his high-beam flashlight the going would have been very tough. Shay knew she was running for her life when she traversed this maze. That thought kept him from giving a damn about how hard he was breathing and how much he wanted to smash things. He only wanted to hold on to her until she understood she was the best thing in his life.

Bogart paused a couple of times to sniff and consider but mostly he was taking them straight through the woods.

They came out the other side to a night full of stars. So silent and still it seemed as if they had popped out on the other side of the world. Except that Bogart was pulling him forward. Straining on his leash, he was determined to get to the bottom of a shallow ravine into which a dozen pipes had tumbled.

James couldn’t figure out why Bogart was so interested in them but his interest was good enough reason to check them out.

Bogart didn’t pause until he had nosed into a pipe that was up against a tree trunk on the other side of the shallow ravine they’d waded through.

James hunkered down and shined his flashlight inside.

Shay was in there, lying absolutely still. He couldn’t breathe in or out. Didn’t want to know the answer to the question beating through his pulse, if it wasn’t the right one.

Bogart dove in past his partner. Usually he didn’t like tight places, instinctively avoiding them as all dogs do. But this time, he was on duty and his goal was someone he knew. He grabbed one booted foot in his mouth and began backing out, dragging Shay with him.

She stirred and whimpered. It was the best sight and sound James had experienced, maybe ever.

James reached in when Bogart had pulled her close and patted Bogart’s back, his voice full of praise. “
Gute Hund! So ist brav!
Such a good boy!”

When Bogart had backed out, James reached in and slid her the rest of the way out. She was groggy and her face was bloody. She was wearing only jeans. But she smiled when she recognized James’s face. A really big all-happy smile.

“You came.”

He grinned at her. “You knew I would.”

“Yes.”

Bogart moved in close and, nudging James’s shoulder, stuck his snout in between them to lick Shay’s face.

She smiled weakly and reached out to scratch him behind his ears. “My Prince.”

James’s heart contracted hard as he picked her up and hugged her to him. She was frighteningly cold to the touch and there was blood on her, but he could tell by the way she reached up and grabbed his neck and held on tight that there was a lot of fight still left in Shay Appleton.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

James stood her in the shower and bathed her. There was nothing erotic about it. She was much too tired and sore, and drained from the volcanic overload of her ordeal, and still vibrating from the events of the night.

An ambulance had taken her to an emergency room in Roanoke Rapids where her wounds were assessed. She’d been grazed by a bullet, leaving a searing grooved burn on her upper arm that hurt like hell. There was also a nasty laceration on her right brow, made by a blow from the assailant’s gun. And a black eye. Her torso was scratched in a dozen places from her run half-naked through the woods.

During the exam, James stood by her, absorbing every telltale detail of her ordeal, his face a stoic mask. Beneath that façade, he was feeling helpless and furious, wishing he had not been so by-the-book with the asshole who had done these things to her. Several times he had had to take a deep breath. On his job, he had come across bastards like the one who’d terrorized Shay. They raped and tormented for the pure pleasure of it. But he didn’t want to add fuel to her nightmares. Some things a man kept to himself.

Which is why he was also a tiny bit glad he had not known all she had been through when he and Bogart tracked the suspect down. Shay needed him here, not arrested for assault.

Deputy Ward showed up at the hospital, after handing over the suspect, to take Shay’s preliminary statement. But he didn’t push when James flashed him a look that said,
Not now.

After a thorough examination to determine that nothing else was seriously wrong, the doctor had stitched her brow, dressed her wound, and given Shay antibiotics and a sedative. He recommended that she remain overnight for observation. She was suffering from slight hypothermia caused by exposure and trauma.

But Shay, frustrated and on meds, became loud and downright uncooperative. She only wanted to go back to the cabin.

James didn’t have the heart to tell her that her refuge was a burned-out husk. The compromise was a hotel room across the street from the hospital.

Too wired from what the doctor called an atypical reaction to sedatives, Shay had paced the floor of their room until James persuaded her out of her clothes and into the shower. The warm fall of water did the trick. Her heart calmed, her pulse stopped racing, and she began to breathe more easily.

Though she was much too tired to respond, Shay was very aware of James as he bathed her. She absorbed the careful passing of his hands over her body with pleasure. She luxuriated in how tender he was as he shampooed the blood from her hair while keeping the water from soaking the bandage on her brow. The feel of his strong fingers working the washcloth as he soaped her shoulders and back and then her breasts and stomach seemed to smooth out some of the pain of the many scratches.

Too tired to do more than follow his instructions, she braced her hands on his shoulders and balanced first on one foot and then the other on the edge of the tub as he washed her legs. His touch was impersonal but thorough.

They didn’t talk. Yet she was vibrantly alive to the emotions running beneath his surface calm. Fully aware of his tenderness, and of a barely contained anger he didn’t voice but she knew would remain a good while. He had failed to protect her. That was all he’d said to her about the ugly volatile feeling. The misery in his eyes made her want to cry for him. But she wasn’t ready to carry that burden yet. Maybe she wouldn’t need to.

He stopped every so often and just held her for a moment.

He hadn’t undressed. His tee and pants were soaked by the time they were done but she supposed he was letting her know without words that this was not an erotic encounter. He understood she was much too exhausted in body and spirit for that.