The Marine's Last Defence

“She was too scared for her knees to work. And there is the fact that she ran without putting on her shoes.” As indicated by two sets of bare footprints that led into the street.

“It would seem so.” Shirley smiled and picked up her case. “I meant to ask, what happened to the dog from this morning?”

“Animal Control showed up this time.” It helped when they were actually called—which he’d done personally. “A kid saw Dallas with me at the park and led me here.”

“That was lucky, then. I hope someone claims her. Big, black dogs don’t get adopted so easily, especially ones with a blind eye. See ya.” She waved and got into her car.

Jake sat in his car. “Blind eye? I couldn’t tell she was half-blind. Dallas is a good pup. Somebody will adopt her.”

The dog deserved someone with a huge yard. Or someone close to a park where she could be trained to catch flying disks or retrieve tennis balls. From the little he’d seen of her interaction with Bree, Dallas had a huge heart. And the loyalty she’d displayed staying with her owner and fighting not to leave her side after she’d been freed, sort of reminded him of his marine brothers.

Would a pup like that get adopted? Or was it amazing she’d been adopted the first time. He’d seen genuine relief on his mystery woman’s face when he’d walked up with Dallas. Call it a hunch or good detective work, but he’d bet his next paycheck that Bree wouldn’t let Dallas stay overnight in the city pound.

Owens and the rest of the responders were out front, walking toward their vehicles. If he was right about the dog sitter showing up to rescue Dallas, he’d obtain the answers to many of his questions. Official case or not, it wouldn’t stop him from finding the murderer.

He’d stared into Brenda Ellen Richardson’s death gaze. He was connected to her. He’d also held a half-frozen dog walker in his arms and hoped somehow he was wrong about why she’d been so dang frightened. And especially wrong about why she’d run away.

After a series of calls, Jake finally got the information he needed and the pound location. He circled through a hamburger joint and dealt with his stomach’s insistence to be fed. Two burgers and twenty minutes later, he parked in the far corner of the parking lot at the Dallas Animal Services and waited.

Late on a Saturday afternoon, there weren’t too many people around. Most of the visitors had a kid or two with them. When a woman driving a really nice ride pulled to a stop, Jake’s attention perked up.

Sure enough, less than fifteen minutes later, she had Dallas on a leash and was loading her into the backseat. Jake didn’t have to tail the woman closely. They were following the path they’d both taken to get there...straight back to White Rock Lake.

And straight back to Bree.

Chapter Five

“Who’s that hunky man? Nice car, but he looks like he wallowed in the snow a couple of times today.” Julie brazenly ogled the detective while handing Dallas’s leash to Sabrina.

The detective from Brenda Ellen’s house? Here? She couldn’t turn to look. Maybe he hadn’t seen her.

Strong hands landed on her shoulders and long fingers locked her in place inches from his chest. “There you are, Bree. Sorry, I’m a little early.”

Oh, shoot. What should she do?

Sabrina hid her surprise as the detective came to her side, tugged her hand from her pocket and locked his fingers with hers. His fingers were warm and his grip secure. His nearness turned her inner thermostat up several degrees. At least he hadn’t shoved her face into the picnic table and slapped cuffs on her.

Detective Craig was being gracious and sparing her the embarrassment of an arrest in front of a friend and employer. Julie was just an employer. The only one home who could go pick up Dallas from the pound. And only after Bree had agreed to look after her dogs without charge once.

“Oh, hi, I’m Julie Butler,” she bubbled. “No wonder you didn’t mind the cold, Bree. Having such a nice guy to warm you back up.”

“Sorry to rush you two, but we should probably get going,” he said. “Got to run by my place for some different duds.”

Sabrina caught a glimpse of his free hand pointing at his mud-stained pants.

“You two are going out. That’s good. Bree shouldn’t be alone tonight. Did she tell you Brenda Ellen was murdered?”

“Yes, I was the first person she spoke to about it.” He patted her hand. “You’re like ice, Bree. We need to get you in front of the car heater.”

She’d let him know just how inappropriate he was behaving. Later. Right now, she was grateful not to say another word.

“I should get her home.” He kept her hand firmly sealed in his, anchoring her in place.

“Terrible about Brenda Ellen. I’ll never feel safe out here again. But Bree, dear, you promised to give me all the details if I picked up Dallas for you.” Julie emphasized her fright by dropping her hand across her rather large breasts.

“Another time,” the detective said.

“We’ll see you in two weeks to sit with the dogs. We’re gone four nights and you can bring Dallas with you to the house. If you need to, that is.”

“Thanks for picking her up, Julie.”

“Ta-ta for now.”

Another of her house-sitting jobs walked away. Sabrina acknowledged it would probably be the last time she saw her. If she got away from the police, she’d have to leave all the dogs she worked with.

“Should I thank you, Detective? Or demand a lawyer? Very clever of you to track me down through Dallas. How did you know I wouldn’t leave her in the pound?”

“I have to admit I was stuck the first couple of hours, thinking more about what would make you run from the police. But the forensics analyst said black dogs were less likely to be adopted. Then she mentioned the pup was blind in one eye—totally missed that. She seems normal enough.”

“She is,” she said, defending the puppy.

“I didn’t think you’d risk an adoption. Care to answer a couple of questions before we call a lawyer?”

“Well, as you can see, I’m extremely busy right now.” She pointed to Dallas, who was doing her best to get off the cold ground. Her scrambling included jumping and slapping her large front paws against Bree’s chest.

“Busy leaving?” He pointed to the suitcase just inside a row of bushes.

“Oh, I haven’t been home yet. I needed to wait close by for Julie.”

“And is home close, since you seem to be walking everywhere? Wait, you ran away five hours ago and haven’t made it home and couldn’t wait it out at the diner. They put an officer on the place. So you really are cold. I’ll be glad to give you a lift so we can chat where it’s warm or we could just head directly to see my captain.”

“I’m sure we can clear this up right here.” She sat at the picnic table, where she’d been waiting since Julie texted.

“I need to see your ID.” He extended a hand from the end of the table.

She felt like Jack facing the giant in the fairy tale. “I, um, I lost it about three weeks ago.”

“No driver’s license? Convenient. Can you remember the number? Or let’s try a simple question. One not too taxing on your elusive memory. What’s your real name?” He crossed his arms, acting as if he didn’t expect a real answer. “Think you can manage that?”

She had barely met him this morning, but she could already tell that the slight curve of the left side of his mouth meant trouble.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Beg all you want, but until I find out who you are—” he paused, digging into his back pocket and then swinging a pair of handcuffs on the tips of two fingers “—you’re under arrest.”

“For what?” Of course she knew, suspicion of murder, fleeing a crime scene, impeding an investigation. They’d pile on the charges and detain her. Then they’d find out that everyone she cared about in Amarillo thought she was dead. As soon as the police discovered she wasn’t, she’d be charged with the murder of whoever was in the clinic fire. And she shouldn’t forget about the embezzling and fraud charges that would be sure to follow.

Yes, she knew the answer to her own question...even if this cute detective didn’t.