DEFENDING HIS OWN

Newly sworn in as chief of police, Ryder Hayes is ready to defend the citizens of Desert Valley—especially his five-year-old daughter, Lily—from his wife’s murderer. So when Ryder starts to grow close to K-9 trainer Sophie Williams, he pushes her away to protect her. He can’t let Sophie become the next target of the deranged serial killer who’s obsessed with him. But Sophie has secrets of her own, and Ryder’s caution isn’t enough to shield her—from deadly peril or her own feelings. To save everyone he loves, Ryder will have to let Sophie in…and count on his new K-9 partner to help sniff out the killer.

The pursuit was almost over. Ryder had launched himself at the quarry as soon as he’d gotten close enough.

The man had whirled and fired, but the shot had gone wild when Phoenix had hit him below the knees and taken a bite of his leg.

Ryder left his own gun holstered rather than chance sending a bullet into the officers still at Sophie’s. He’d seen them gathering when they’d helped him locate the fleeing criminal, and knew the fence would slow them down enough that he’d have to finish this job himself.

He ducked a punch, then landed one of his own before wrapping the shooter in a bear hug and shoving him to the ground.

Phoenix immediately went for the arm holding the gun.

The wiry attacker tried to bring the muzzle to bear on the dog. Ryder was on him too fast. “Drop the gun!”

ROOKIE K-9 UNIT:

These lawmen solve the toughest cases

with the help of their brave canine partners

Protect and Serve—Terri Reed, April 2016 Truth and Consequences—Lenora Worth, May 2016 Seek and Find—Dana Mentink, June 2016 Honor and Defend—Lynette Eason, July 2016 Secrets and Lies—Shirlee McCoy, August 2016 Search and Rescue—Valerie Hansen, September 2016

VALERIE HANSEN was thirty when she awoke to the presence of the Lord in her life and turned to Jesus. She now lives in a renovated farmhouse in the breathtakingly beautiful Ozark Mountains of Arkansas and is privileged to share her personal faith by telling the stories of her heart for Love Inspired. Life doesn’t get much better than that!

Search

and Rescue

Valerie Hansen

www.millsandboon.co.uk

MILLS & BOON

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Seek and you shall find; knock and it shall be opened to you.

—Matthew 7:7

As I have continued to write book after book, it has occurred to me that I can never fully acknowledge all the amazing folks who have helped and encouraged me along the way. This book is dedicated to all those unsung heroes who are ready to share a smile or a hug no matter what their own needs may be.

And, as always, to my Joe, who is with me in spirit.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

About the Author

Title Page

Bible Verse

Dedication

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

EPILOGUE

Dear Reader

Extract

Copyright

ONE

Sophie 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?”

“Why not?” Ryder said, continuing to cruise slowly down Main, “She shot my wife and Veronica, but she pushed rookie Mike Riverton down steep stairs and burned down rookie Brian Miller’s house with him in it. Carrie has no known MO when it comes to how she murders her victims.”

Shivering with those memories, Sophie said, “I just can’t see Carrie accurately aiming a rifle. She’s too scrawny to hold it steady.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. She did miss.”

“Well, somebody did. Too bad it wasn’t caught on surveillance cameras.”

Nodding as if pondering the attack, Ryder pulled into a deserted parking lot and stopped beneath a shade tree, letting the engine idle to keep the vehicle cool. “If not Carrie, then who?”

“How should I know?” She raised both hands, palms up, and shrugged. “I was too busy taking cover to make notes. All I know is there were three shots and they all seemed to be coming from the east side of the depot building. Whoever it was took a big chance of being spotted. Somebody must have seen something.”

“We’ll sort that out back at the station after I’ve read the reports. That’s one reason I deployed all the K-9s. We may as well make full use of them while they’re still temporarily assigned here.”

Sophie sighed. “I suppose so. I’ll be glad to get back to running new training classes but I will miss these rookies when they move on. They’ve kind of grown on me.”

“Me, too,” Ryder admitted. “It’s nice to have more officers. Particularly when their salaries are being paid by the richest woman in town.”

“Marian Foxcroft.” Sophie thought of the woman who’d arranged to have the newly graduated rookies stay on to solve the murders and mysterious deaths over the past five years. Someone had attacked Marian in her own home—and that person was very likely Carrie Dunleavy. Why, was a question no one had an answer to. “I hope she recovers from her head injury, for her sake and for poor Ellen’s.” Sophie knew that Ellen Foxcroft, one of the rookies, hadn’t been very close to her mother before the attack. Everyone was pulling for Marian. Sophie decided to change the subject. “It’s nice to be able to have all the rookies’ partners around for a little longer, too.”

“Right. The dogs, too.” He cast a quick glance over his shoulder. “Well, all except for one. What possessed you to send for—Phoenix, is it?”

“Yes. Phoenix. We have him on a trial basis, just in case he doesn’t work out, but I think you’re going to be surprised. Besides, he was a bargain.”

Ryder arched his brows. “I don’t doubt that.”

“Hey, don’t criticize him before you give him a chance. At one time, this dog was very good. He can be again.”

“What happened to him?”

Taking a deep, calming breath Sophie explained. “He lost his partner in the line of duty. They were ambushed in an alley. Even though he was wounded, too, Phoenix stood guard over his fallen partner until reinforcements arrived.”

“And after that he stayed scared?”

“Not exactly. Several other officers tried to work with him. When that failed, he was sent to rehab training in the southern part of the state, then reassigned, but he was too emotionally fragile to be of much use.”

“You think you can cure him?”

“I think I understand him. That’s a start.” She hesitated. “Been there, done that.”

Ryder was shaking his head. “So, you expect to convince a dog that the death of his handler was inevitable because that’s what you’ve been telling yourself about the loss of your own partner, back when you wore a badge?”

Wondering if she would be able to sound logical, Sophie paused to gather herself. Her mouth was dry, her palms damp. She knew full well that her narrow focus on the criminal she and her former partner, Wes Allen, had been pursuing was what had cost him his life. Acting as his backup, she’d failed to notice a hidden gunman—until it was too late. Wes had died on the spot and it was her fault. She’d left the force shortly thereafter.

Sophie suppressed another shiver. Here in Desert Valley she had colleagues who would probably understand. One of them was sitting next to her. Confiding the full extent of her lingering guilt and pain, however, was out of the question.

“That all happened long ago,” she said. “I’ve found my niche training dogs for law enforcement.”

“It’s still excess baggage. We all carry plenty.”

She could tell by the faraway look in his blue eyes that he was remembering his wife, the mother of his little girl. At least he still had Lily to give him solace. Sophie had nothing left but her work.

Pressing her lips together tightly she considered her personal life. Her best friends were dogs—and that was just the way she wanted it. People had hurt and disappointed her as far back as she could remember. Listening to her parents quarreling, she had often hidden in her room, hugging the family dog and trusting him to keep her safe. Law enforcement had seemed the perfect career choice at the outset but she had quickly realized she was not equipped to accept loss, particularly the death of her own partner. In turning to K-9 training she had, in a way, gone back to the solace she’d found as a frightened child. Not that she was about to admit it.

“I’ve recovered from my past,” Sophie finally said. “You will, too. Just give it time.”

Ryder was shaking his head. “No. I don’t ever want to forget.”

A sense of melancholy enfolded her. She had never come close to finding the kind of love and devotion this man held for his late wife, nor did she ever hope to. A lifelong commitment was the kind of thing dreams were made of and she knew better than to entertain such fancies.

She had her job, her dogs and a career many people coveted. Heartfelt prayer had led her to Desert Valley and circumstances were keeping her here. That was enough. It would have to be.

A sidelong glance at Ryder convinced her further. He needed her help and that of the dog she was preparing for him. Call it a job or a ministry or whatever, it was why she was where she was at this moment in time. She would not waste the opportunity.

While it was wrong to think of hugging away his pain, it was right to support his rise in rank. Merely the fact that he had been promoted to police chief while still technically a K-9 cop was a wonder. Keeping him active and qualified with a dog for as long as he wished to be was up to her.

She closed her eyes for a moment and thought. Father, thank You. Please stay with me.

“You okay?” Ryder asked.

“Fine.” Her voice had a catch in it the first time so she repeated, “Fine.”

“Do you want me to drop you back at the training center or take you home?”

“Home, please,” Sophie said. “I want Phoenix to get used to living with his handler again. We may as well start right away.”

“You won’t take any unnecessary chances? Promise?”

“Cross my heart.” She made the motion.

“Okay. I’ll go in ahead of you and check your house.”

Her “No,” came easily.

“No?”

Sophie was nodding. “Thanks, but no thanks. That won’t be necessary. If there’s anything wrong at my place the dog will alert.”

“How? By ducking and shaking the way he did at the depot?” The chief sounded cynical.

Reminded of the shooting incident and the way her own hands had trembled in its aftermath, Sophie covered her emotions by shrugging and saying, “Whatever.”

To herself, she added, That will make two of us feeling fearful. All her previous efforts to escape the rigors and threats of active law enforcement had been rendered ineffectual the moment those shots had been fired. If she had not been going home with a dog, traumatized or not, she might have welcomed human intervention.

Ryder was adamant. “Look. Until we know whether or not the attack on you was random, I’m going to pull rank. I’m inspecting your house when we get there. Is that understood?”

Sophie was so relieved she nearly sighed aloud. Instead, she purposely pouted, scooted lower in the seat and folded her arms, making sure her courageous image remained unspoiled. “Yeah, I get it.”

In truth, she was thankful. The house she’d been renting for several years sat on a double lot on East Second Street and backed up to undeveloped land, a quiet location that had seemed ideal until she’d started feeling vulnerable.

Right now, she’d have gladly settled for high stone walls instead of wire fencing, and maybe a turret with an armed guard or two, preferably one like Ryder Hayes.

If he turned up anybody hiding in her house, waiting to hurt her, she didn’t know what she’d do. But she was pretty sure she knew what Ryder would do—whatever it took to see that she was taken care of.

TWO

Ryder had figured Sophie’s objections to his entering her home had been based on its messy condition. One look had immediately changed his mind. She was a good housekeeper. The dishes were washed, the bed made, and a vacuum cleaner stood sentinel in a corner of the living room. There were slipcovers on her padded furniture and an extra throw on the sofa. He could understand that when a person kept bringing new dogs home.

Satisfied that she’d be fine, he divided the remainder of his day between his office and the depot crime scene. He was a methodical investigator. Usually. This time he felt as if he was missing something, some clue that would better explain why Sophie had been targeted. But what?

After being fooled so thoroughly by Carrie, he found himself mistrusting everyone, a trait which had gotten him into hot water with Sophie after her predecessor, head trainer Veronica Earnshaw, had been murdered at work. Unwarranted suspicion and hurt feelings at that time meant he’d have to be doubly sensitive about how he chose to dig deeper into Sophie’s past. Looking for someone who may have held a grudge since her days as a police officer was going to be his first objective.

The most logical choice was to simply question her, although he hadn’t gotten very far when he’d tried that before. There were cut-and-dried facts in her file, sure, but that wasn’t the same as getting her input on old cases.

Planning to speak with her the following day, Ryder put Titus in his car and started for Lily’s babysitter’s house. Passing the veterinary office adjacent to the training center, he did a double take. There was only one old car he knew of that lacked a backseat and was decorated with decals of various dog breeds. Sophie Williams was out and about.

He parked at the curb. Bypassing the deserted front counter he headed down the hall to the exam rooms. Phoenix was perched on a stainless steel table while Sophie comforted him.

Her eyes widened. “Oops. Caught me.”

“You promised me you’d stay home today.”

“I believe I promised I wouldn’t make any unnecessary trips.” She’d looped an arm over the trembling dog’s shoulders while Tanya Fowler, the veterinarian, held a stethoscope to his ribs.

“This is necessary?”

“Yes,” Sophie replied.

“And why is that?”

“Well, you wouldn’t want a sick dog to contaminate our working teams or facility, would you?”

He eyed the shaking canine. “He’s sick?” Judging by the way Sophie’s cheeks bloomed even before she answered, he doubted it.

“Um, no, Tanya says he’s healthy.” Sophie brightened. “But you have to agree. We did need a professional opinion.”

“And now we have one. Let’s go. I’ll follow you home and check the place again.”

“Don’t be silly. There’s no reason for you to go to all that trouble. I told you, I’m armed.”

“A handgun is no defense against a rifle unless your attacker runs out of ammo and tries to club you with it.”

The face she made at him was hilarious. Rather than smile and lose authority he turned away and pointed to the door.

Although Sophie didn’t hurry, she did comply. Giving the vet a brief hug and thanking her, she lifted Phoenix down and started for the exit.

Ryder let her pass before he allowed himself to grin behind her back. Of all the trainers and handlers he’d ever known, this one was the most admirable—and the most hardheaded. She had a quick answer for everything and a dry wit that often surfaced at the most needed moments. Working in law enforcement was tough, particularly for men and women who were in it for altruistic reasons, and they often needed the kind of emotional release that laughter provided.

Sophie was out the door and halfway to her car before he stopped her. “Wait. You forgot something.”

“What?”

He’d already scanned their surroundings, satisfied they were safe for the time being. “You never once checked for threats. You just barged out the door as if you were the only person in town.”

“Like I keep telling you, Phoenix will let me know if there’s danger.”

“Sure. After he has his own nervous breakdown.”

The view of Sophie, chin held high, her eyebrows arched and her hands fisted on her hips, was so cute he could hardly keep a straight face.

“I’ll have you know he saved me at the depot this morning. If he hadn’t held back I might not have bent over and could have been shot.”

That was enough to ruin Ryder’s day. “Why is this the first I’m hearing about a connection?”

She shrugged. “Actually, it just occurred to me when you questioned his abilities.”

“You didn’t hear or see anything to make you duck?”

“Nope. The first I knew I was in trouble was when the bullets started flying. Which reminds me. How long do you think my SUV will be out of service? I like my car but it lacks a certain dignity.”

“If I had my way you’d be stuck in your office for the rest of the year. Or longer.”

It was the rapid way Sophie’s expression changed that focused his attention. She was clearly trying to maintain her bravado and failing miserably. What had he said or done to trigger such a transformation? Even shortly after the shooting that could have taken her life, she hadn’t looked this doleful.

Concerned, Ryder approached. “What is it? What just happened?”

“Nothing.”

He reached out, not quite touching her shoulder, and heard an unexpected growl at his feet. Wonder of wonders, the usually shy dog had stepped in front of Sophie and was prepared to defend her.

“Whoa.” Ryder withdrew. “Maybe there is hope for Phoenix after all.”

“There’s hope for all God’s creatures, given the right environment and enough love,” Sophie said. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be going.”

She let the dog jump in before she slid behind the wheel of her decal-covered car.

Because he assumed she’d take off as fast as possible, Ryder jogged back to his idling patrol unit, unlocking the door remotely. Titus was panting but comfortably cool thanks to a special air-conditioning system that functioned whether the car was moving or not.

It was easy to follow her to the small house on Second Street. Ryder stayed in his car and observed, just in case. The usual spring was missing from Sophie’s step. She was almost plodding, as if bearing a heavy weight on those slim shoulders. Seeing such a change come over her—and linger—had him worried.

Somehow, he had caused emotional injury to someone he admired, and for the life of him he couldn’t figure out what had happened. They’d been talking about her SUV and he’d made some sarcastic remark about wishing she were stuck in her office, but surely that couldn’t have been enough to instantly depress her.

Puzzled, Ryder kept watching and mulling over the problem until Sophie and the dog were safely inside. Whatever he’d done had also bothered the new dog so it must be something simple. Intuitive.

“I raised my voice?” he muttered. “I was just worried about her but...” But perceived anger had demoralized her. Perhaps Sophie’s mood had had less to do with what he’d said than it did with his forceful delivery.

So, who had verbally abused her in the past? And why were the residual effects lingering in her twenties?

A strong urge to climb out of the car and apologize was not easy to quash. Surely there would be a better time to speak with her in private and express regret. Besides, it might be too soon to approach after inadvertently hurting her.

That was what bothered him the most, even though it had been unintentional. He would never purposely harm anyone.

“Except for Carrie,” Ryder murmured. It would be better for all concerned if he were not present for the capture. His respect for the law was strong, yet he didn’t want to have to put it to the ultimate test.

Modern laws didn’t allow “an eye for an eye” biblical justice. God forgive him, he sorely wished it did.

* * *

Before releasing Phoenix, Sophie led him on a comprehensive tour of her house, allowing him to sniff to his heart’s content now that she was sure he was healthy. It was good to have a dog underfoot again, even if she was going to eventually have to relinquish him to a new partner.

She stroked the top of his head and saw his stub of a tail begin to wag. “That’s right, boy. I’m one of the good guys. You can trust me. Now let’s see if I can trust you.”

She unsnapped the leash. At first, the timid dog stayed close to her, not venturing far until he caught a scent and put his nose to the floor.

“You have natural ability and curiosity,” she said, keeping her voice gentle. “Good boy.” The stubby tail wagged faster. “I can get you over your fear. I know I can.”

So, who’s going to help me? Sophie asked herself. It had been a long time since she’d had such a strong flashback to her dysfunctional childhood, and even longer since she’d let it show enough to be noticeable. What was the matter with her? Chief Hayes—Ryder—was liable to think she was as unstable as the new dog.

“I’m not. Not at all,” she insisted. “There must be lots of people who don’t like to be yelled at.” And, to be totally honest, Ryder had not actually shouted. Maybe it was his reference to her being stuck in her office, combined with a harsh tone, that had pushed her panic button. As a child she’d spent long hours hiding in her closet and had even crawled under the bed a time or two, seeking escape from her parents’ anger. By themselves, her mother and father were generally amiable, but put them together and they didn’t seem to know a civil word.

“Which is why I love dogs,” she reminded herself, smiling at her new boarder. “Come, Phoenix.”

His ears perked up and he stopped to look at her. Pleased, she repeated, “Come,” and turned to walk away. To her delight, the mottled gray Aussie trotted along behind. By this time his short tail was wagging his whole rear end.

“Good boy. Sit,” Sophie commanded. Phoenix plunked down so fast it was a blur. She made him wait while she entered the kitchen, then released him to join her.

“You are going to be perfect for the chief,” she told him. “Now, let’s get you food and water bowls and fix a place for you to sleep in my room. Are you hungry?”

Two leaps and a skid on the slick, marbled vinyl floor took Phoenix straight to the refrigerator. Tongue lolling, he danced in circles.

Sophie had to laugh. She cupped his furry face on each side and gazed into his light brown eyes, positive they reflected intelligence. “Dogs eat dog food out of bowls in this house,” she told him. “Didn’t they teach you safety in those other places?”

He barked in her face. “Eww, dog breath,” she joked. “Follow me and pay attention. Lesson one is going to keep you from getting poisoned.”

Sadly, it was necessary to teach working dogs to ignore treats from strangers in order to protect them. The Canyon County Training Center did allow their graduates to eat from a human partner’s hand, but only when given a specific command.

With Phoenix close at her heels, Sophie pulled out two weighted dog dishes and placed them on a mat beside the back door. The expression on his face when he saw they were empty made her laugh again. “Patience, buddy. I’m working on your dinner.”

He watched her every move, quivering with excitement before she released him to eat. Then he approached his food as if he’d been starving. That kind of dog could be harder to train to leave food fragments alone but considering his rapid improvement she felt confident he was a quick learner.

As soon as he’d licked up the last crumb and polished the food dish with his tongue, Sophie accompanied him outside.

The instant his paws hit the porch, Phoenix bristled and began to growl. Sunset was casting her small backyard in long shadows, the lingering heat making portions of the ground shimmer.

Sophie followed the dog’s line of sight to her chain-link fence and past it to a stand of ancient ponderosa pines. The climate might not be conducive to grass and a lot of greenery but it was perfect for drought tolerant trees and scrub brush. Normally, that kind of growth made it easier to spot threats but at this time of day every silhouette seemed to mask danger.

A gust of wind lifted her hair, bringing a welcome draft of cooler air. She squinted to see what was bothering Phoenix. If he was the kind of dog who alerted at every lizard or blowing leaf he might not be suitable after all.

Opening her mouth to speak, Sophie never had the chance. Phoenix leaped off the porch without touching the steps and tore toward the wire fence. His bark was fierce, his hackles bristling.

When she saw the problem her heart skipped a beat. A large rattler was coiled, ready to strike, mere feet in front of the dog. If she called him now and he turned his back on the reptile he was sure to be bitten!

Although she was still armed she didn’t want to shoot so close to civilization unless she had to. Praying silently, she slipped off the porch and opened the door of her metal toolshed.

A broom would only irritate the snake and a shovel was too unwieldy. A hoe, however, was ideal. If she couldn’t scare off the rattler she might be able to pin its head long enough for Phoenix—and herself—to escape. It wouldn’t be the first snake she’d routed since coming to Desert Valley, but it was the first incident involving a working dog. If the fangs pumped venom directly into a dog’s head, the chance of survival wasn’t good.

Phoenix was still barking when Sophie approached behind him. Too bad she and the Australian shepherd didn’t know each other well. If they had, she would be able to better predict his reactions.

Staying to one side, Sophie inched closer. There was no way she could swing faster than a snake could strike. The trick would be getting the metal blade of the hoe between it and her dog, then trying to pin it or push it away. If it had recently fed and was only defending itself, it might turn and flee.

Another short step closer. And another. She extended the hoe. The snake’s forked tongue flashed out, its mouth opening. She could see folded fangs descending. It was ready. So was she.

Phoenix backed up slightly. The rattler’s head rose. Sophie was out of time and she knew it. She thrust the blade forward. Her aim was accurate. With one lunge she managed to force the viper’s triangular head to the ground.

Startled, Phoenix jumped back. He began to circle her, barking, while the snake writhed, struggling to get free. As soon as she was certain the dog was out of striking distance she gave the blade a last push, dropped the handle and made a dash for the back door.

She didn’t get far. A slightly smaller rattlesnake was crossing her path. Two more were curled up on her back porch! Incredulous, she climbed onto an old rickety picnic table, hoping it wouldn’t collapse under her weight.

“Phoenix, come!” The order was more than forceful. It was filled with alarm.

Sophie braced herself as the dog vaulted to the bench, then joined her atop the table. Encountering one venomous snake wasn’t that unusual in the desert but this... This was incredible. Why in the world had they suddenly invaded? There was no wildfire to drive them into her yard. And if there had been a den located nearby she should have noticed problems right away, not several years after moving in. Such reptile gatherings tended to be seasonal and this was her third summer here.

Wide-eyed, she scanned the ground around the table and noted three more reptiles. They instinctively knew that direct August sun would kill them and had taken refuge in shady spots. Unfortunately, some were resting between the picnic table and her kitchen door. Once night fell they’d move. But by then she’d have trouble seeing well enough to avoid being bitten, not to mention keeping Phoenix safe.

Sophie was trapped. Frustrated. Mad at herself. She hadn’t even brought the hoe to the table with her. How long could she stay crouched without her legs and feet going to sleep? And how long could she keep the new dog from attacking the reptilian menace and getting himself killed?

Easing into a sitting position and preparing to fold her legs, she glanced down. One of the smaller snakes was climbing onto the bench. Once he got that far he’d be able to reach the top of the table! Sophie lowered one foot over the edge, hooked a toe under the side of the bench, and kicked.

It wobbled. Teetered. When it fell all the way onto its side it was farther away, hopefully far enough to keep all but the largest rattlers from getting to her.

And speaking of those... A triangular head poked over the edge of the table. Its forked tongue vibrated. There was no way she was going to try to kick this one away.

Drawing her gun she started to take the standard two-handed aim, then thought better of it and used one hand to grab the dog’s collar so he wouldn’t bolt when she fired so close to him.

The first shot hit the reptile under the chin and threw it backward. Trembling, Sophie leaned over the table’s edge to make sure she’d killed it—and came face-to-face with its bigger brothers. More shots finished those. By this time, she sincerely hoped her neighbors had heard enough to call the police because she didn’t want to take her eyes off the snakes for a second.

Up until then, Phoenix had held his position pretty well, considering. Now, however, he rose slowly, hackles bristling, and stared past the side yard to the street beyond. Sophie recognized the dog’s attitude immediately. He was no longer concerned with chasing dangerous snakes. There was something else in his sights. Something he’d sensed was evil without even seeing it.

She swiveled, kneeling, looked in the same direction and brought the muzzle of her gun up, ready for self-defense.

A sudden thought stripped away her bravado. How many shots had she fired at the snakes? How many bullets were left? Did she have any? In the heat of the moment she’d failed to count and if she dropped the clip out now to look, she might not be able to replace it fast enough.

Only one thing was certain. There was at least one shell left in the chamber or the slide would have stayed back.

Was one shot going to be enough?

THREE

“You’d better get over here, Chief,” rookie officer Shane Weston said, once Ryder answered the phone. “And don’t bring Titus. I think we’ve killed all the snakes but we could have missed one or two.”

“That was what all the ruckus was about? There was enough radio traffic to have handled a small war. I could hardly make out a thing the way you were interrupting each other’s transmissions.”

“Sorry, sir. It was pretty hectic for a while. I’m surprised she managed to keep that dog safe.”

Ryder scowled. “Dog? What are you talking about? Was the call at the training center?”

“No,” Weston said. “I thought you knew. Sophie Williams had a backyard full of rattlers.”

“What? The dispatch was for the corner of Desert Valley and Second, so I didn’t realize they meant her house down the block.” His pulse jumped when he imagined the scene. “I might expect a bunch of snakes gathering like that in the spring but not now. How many were there?”

“Hard to say. We’re still counting. That’s why I called you.”

“Go on.” Ryder was losing patience. With Lily at home and no one to watch her, any action on his part was going to be delayed until he could drop his daughter back with his babysitter, Opal Mullins.

“There’s more. Sophie insists somebody else was here, sneaking up on her. I’m not convinced. The snakes had her cornered in the yard and she was pretty paranoid about it.”

Ryder clutched his phone so tightly his hand throbbed. “Is there a chance they may have been dumped there?”

“I suppose it’s possible,” Shane said. “Some lowlife sure has it in for our head trainer. Since the bullets missed her this morning, I did wonder if they tried to kill her with a batch of rattlers.”

“Kind of hard to plan ahead for an attack like that,” Ryder said. “Although I suppose they might have gathered them to release at the training center and changed their minds.”

“Terrific.” He snorted wryly. “Look, the worst of the danger is over and nobody was bitten. I just thought it would be good to get your input on this. You know how Harmon and Marlton can be when they’re trying to avoid paperwork.”

“Yeah. The sooner they retire the better,” Ryder replied. “I can’t believe Louise didn’t call me right away. Isn’t she covering the desk?”

“Not this late. So, should we hang around? Are you coming out?”

“Yes,” Ryder said. “I’ll have to drop Lily at the babysitter’s. Give me fifteen minutes, tops.”

“Copy,” the rookie officer said as he prepared to end the call. “Wear your boots.”

Ryder looked over at his drowsy, little blonde five-year-old and had to smile. He’d been reading her a bedtime story and she’d laid her head on the cushiony arm of the sofa when he’d stopped to answer the phone.

The sight of such a loving, beautiful child made his heart beat faster, yet constricted his gut as if he’d just taken a body blow. He’d failed to protect her mother. He was not going to fail Lily. The mere concept was abhorrent. This child was his life, his legacy, his and Melanie’s, and nobody was going to harm her. He’d die before he’d let that happen.

He gently rubbed Lily’s bare feet. “Wake up, honey. I have to go out. I’m taking you back to Miss Opal’s.”

“Uh-uh. It’s story time. You can’t go away again.”

Ryder felt guilty and compensated as best he could. “How about we go out for ice cream after I get back?”

That seemed to brighten the child’s mood although she was still making a face. “With sprinkles?”

“If that’s what you want,” Ryder promised. “Now put your shoes on while I get my boots. I need to hurry.”

Lily’s innocent blue eyes focused on him. “What happened, Daddy?”

“A lady found rattlesnakes in her yard.”

“Are you gonna shoot them?”

Ryder couldn’t tell whether the child was asking because she needed reassurance or because she felt sorry for the snakes. “I’m not sure about all of them. I imagine my officers had to shoot some.”

Sadly, she said, “Oh.”

“They had to protect the lady and her dog.”

“Dog? She had a dog?”

“Yes.”

“Like Titus?”

“Uh-huh. Kind of.”

Lily began to smile. “That’s different.” Sitting up, she rested her bare feet on the big yellow Labrador retriever lying against the front edge of the couch and wiggled her toes into his fur. His tail thumped but he didn’t rise. “I love Titus.”

“Me, too,” her father replied with a sigh. There was only one thing worse than having to retire a faithful canine partner and that was losing one in the line of duty. He knew it was time to give the old dog a rest, but he also knew that Titus would brood about being left behind. That was a given.

He reached down and patted the dog’s broad head. “No other dog will ever work as well as you do,” he said soothingly. “I don’t care who says otherwise.”

“Can Titus go with us?”

“Not this time, honey. You know Miss Opal’s cats don’t like to play with him.”

The scowl returned. Nevertheless, the child had her sandals on when Ryder returned wearing his boots.

He held out his hand. “Ready?”

“No.” Lily tossed her blond curls, dropped to her knees and hugged Titus’s furry neck, placed a kiss on the top of his nose, then jumped to her feet. “Okay. Now I am.”

The poignancy of the scene almost choked him up. So did the trusting way she grasped his fingers. Losing Melanie had nearly broken him—would have—if he hadn’t had Lily. Every day that passed he loved her more. And every time he went out on a call he prayed even harder for her continued well-being.

Yes, he could have sent her away when Carrie Dunleavy’s crime spree was uncovered. But that would have meant trusting his little girl to someone else’s care 24/7 and he simply could not do that. No one’s vigilance could be as sufficient as his because nobody could possible love Lily as much as he did. Nobody.

He’d die before he’d let anything happen to her.

* * *

Sophie wondered who in the crowd of officers combing her backyard was going give the all clear. Rookie Ellen Foxcroft was probably at the hospital visiting her comatose mother, Marian, but Shane Weston, Whitney Godwin, James Harrison and Tristan McKeller had responded. They’d done most of the actual work while Eddie Harmon and Dennis Marlton, the old-timers, had stood back and relaxed, occasionally barking an order or chuckling when one of the novices found and dealt with another snake.

“Typical,” she muttered, preparing to call out to either Eddie or Dennis and insist that one of them release her to go back to the house. Before she could, they both straightened and began to feign being busy. That could mean only one thing. The chief was here.

To Sophie’s amazement, the sight of Ryder’s six-foot-two, athletic self brought instant relief and more than a touch of joy. He looked just as good out of uniform, in jeans and a T-shirt, as he always did with his badge on. She waved. “Over here!”

Though he paused to speak with Shane and then James, he didn’t tarry long. Sweeping the beam of a flashlight ahead of him to double-check his path, he came directly to her.

“You okay?”

“I am now,” she replied, having to restrain herself from leaping into his arms like a scared kid. “Thankfully my neighbors heard me shooting and reported trouble. It’s been a very long evening.”

“So they tell me. Why aren’t you and that mutt in the house?”

“Because nobody has given us the all clear.” Scowling, she eyed the part of the yard she could see from her perch. “How bad was it? I heard enough shooting and shouting to last me for the rest of my life.”

A smile quirked at the corners of Ryder’s mouth. “Fortunately, that will be a long time thanks to my officers.” He held out his hand. “Come on. I’ll get you to the house.”

“I’d rather you carried Phoenix, just in case,” Sophie told him. “What if they missed one?”

“Carried him?”

“Yes.” She tried not to smile. “Please?”

Ryder handed her his flashlight and arched a brow. “If he bites me, we send him back where he came from tomorrow. Deal?”

That wasn’t fair. She hadn’t had enough time to fully assess the dog’s quirks. Still, he was eventually going to have to work with the chief and had performed amiably in his initial placement so she nodded. “Okay. Go for it.”

One of the important aspects of Phoenix’s training regimen was going to be reinforcing his ability to adapt to many situations. This would be a good test. She snapped her fingers to get his attention, looked directly into his eyes and held up her hand, palm out. “Phoenix. Stay.”

Although he flinched and tensed when Ryder slipped his arms under him and lifted, he didn’t struggle. Sophie wanted to cheer.

Instead, she dropped to stand beside man and dog, pointed the light toward the house and led the way back to her porch. It was impossible to miss seeing a portion of the carnage as they passed, and its portent made her shiver.

So did the nagging feeling that someone had been watching her while she’d been trapped on the tabletop.

Ryder was spitting dog hair when he bent to lower the Aussie to the kitchen floor. To make matters worse, Phoenix turned in the blink of an eye and gave his cheek a slurp.

Sophie laughed. “Guess he won’t be going back tomorrow.”

“Guess not.” Brushing off his civilian clothes, Ryder made a sour face. “Shedding all over me has never been a problem with Titus.”

“How often do you carry him?” she asked, still chuckling. “He weighs a ton.”

“I could still lift him if I needed to.” Judging by the way the head trainer was eyeing his flexed biceps she wasn’t going to argue. Flattered but slightly embarrassed, he changed the subject. “Let’s talk about this call.”

“Coffee first?” Sophie was already on her way to the counter so he nodded. “Sure.”

“How about the others?”

“I told Weston to inform them they were free to return to the station. I’ll send a team out at first light to clean up and make sure any possible stragglers are gone.”

“Thank you.”

Watching her fill two mugs with hot coffee he hoped she could carry them without spilling, since her hands were shaking so badly. “Want some help?”

“No. I’ve got it. Have a seat. There’s sugar and creamer if you want.”

“Black is fine.” It didn’t escape Ryder’s notice that the new dog had made itself at home beneath the kitchen table and was sniffing his boots. For an animal that was supposed to be painfully shy, it seemed pretty mellow.

“Looks like you’ve made a friend,” Sophie remarked as she joined him and slid one of the mugs across the table.

“Apparently. All I had to do was rescue him.”

“And me. Thank you again.”

“You’re safe in here.”

He saw her suppress a tremor as she replied, “For now.”

He eyed the slick floor, checking shadows beneath the edge of the lower cabinets and next to the stove and refrigerator to be certain they were clear. “Do you want me to inspect the house for you?”

Sophie shook her head. “That won’t be necessary. The rookies already checked. Phoenix will sense any new danger. He’s the one who alerted me about the yard.”

“Then why in the world did you go out?”

As he watched, she lowered her gaze and began to pick at a nonexistent spot on the tabletop. That was enough to open Ryder’s eyes for the second time that day.

He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry for raising my voice, Sophie. I was just worried.”

“I know.” She breathed a noisy sigh. “It’s been a rough evening and I put your dog in danger by not being vigilant enough. You’re entitled to be upset.”

Reaching for one of her trembling hands he grasped it gently. “Who said anything about the dog?”

The small kitchen seemed to shrink until all Sophie was conscious of was the strong man seated across from her. He was just being kind, she knew, yet it was awfully nice of him to hold her hand. She could certainly use the moral support.

“I’ve never been so scared in all my life,” she admitted, blinking back unshed tears. “I took care of the big one Phoenix saw first and others near the picnic table but there were so many...”

“I know.”

“And there was something else. Did your men tell you I thought there was somebody hiding and watching me while I was stranded?”

“Yes. Any idea who it might have been?”

“None. The only reason I suspected it at all was because of the way the dog bristled. I wasn’t sure but he was. That’s good enough for me.”

“Maybe someone heard you shooting and came to see why.”

Sophie scowled. “Or maybe they were already there and hoping I’d use up all my ammo and be defenseless.” She trembled. “I almost did.”

Feeling him squeezing her fingers a little more, she pulled her hand away. It was time to stop thinking and reacting on a personal level. She was a trained professional. She’d better start behaving like one.

Sophie sat up taller in her chair and took a sip from her mug. “All right. We can either assume it was Carrie sneaking around, unhappy that I’ve been talking too much to you lately, or we can look for somebody else. You and the team believe that Carrie likely didn’t have an accomplice because of the journal and so-called shrine you found at her place, right?”

“Right.”

His jaw muscles knotted visibly as he spoke, and when he clasped his hands in front of him on the table, Sophie noticed his muscles flexing. She was entitled to be upset because of her recent ordeal but Ryder had a much deeper reason. After all, Carrie’s collection of memorabilia about her victims had included more than just pictures and clippings of the two blond rookies she’d killed because they’d reminded her of him. A central feature was Melanie Hayes, Ryder’s late wife. Photographs and newspaper clippings on Melanie lined a wall of Carrie’s bedroom. But no one figured more prominently than Ryder Hayes himself.

Empathy filled her and she placed her hand lightly atop his clenched fists. Although he flinched, he didn’t withdraw until she said, “I apologize, Ryder.”

“For what?”

“For being insensitive to your loss.”

“Never mind that. Right now, we need to be thinking about who’s trying to hurt you. Start talking.”

“About what?”

“Anything. Everything. You might explain why a raised voice bothers you so much.”

“I never said it did.”

“You didn’t have to.”

“Hey, I passed my psych eval.”

He didn’t reply immediately and she wondered what painful questions he’d ask next. Until now she’d managed to quell her adverse reactions to triggers that mentally transported her back to her abusive childhood and she’d just as soon not awaken those feelings further.

“All right,” he finally said. “Let’s talk about the night your partner was shot and why you quit the force after that.”

“I’d rather not.”

He propped his elbows on the table and leaned forward. “I don’t think you have a choice, Sophie. We have to start somewhere and that’s as good a place as any. Did you receive any death threats after that incident?”

“Police officers are always being threatened,” she insisted. “Almost nobody follows through.”

“Maybe this guy is the exception. Criminals can be very vindictive.”

The truth stuck in her throat. Was it possible Wes’s brother had made good on his wild threats and come after her at this late date? Why now and not sooner? Part of her mind wanted to brush away suspicion while another part felt as if the upcoming anniversary of Wes’s death might hold the answer. To voice that, however, was repugnant. The poor man and his family had suffered enough without blaming them needlessly and causing more pain.

Ryder had been studying her. “I want you to make a list of possible suspects. Don’t leave anybody out no matter how innocent you think they may be. Understand?”

She nodded as she noted his darkening mood and resigned herself to complying. “I’ll do it, but I don’t think you realize how difficult it will be for me.”

As soon as the words left her mouth she knew she’d inadvertently been insensitive again.

Ryder’s demeanor changed in a heartbeat. His eyes flashed, his jaw clamped and he stood so rapidly he almost knocked his chair over backward. Even before he said a word Sophie knew he was angry.

“Difficult?” he began. “You want to know what’s difficult? Looking at my wife’s picture posted with Carrie’s other victims and remembering how blind I was to the evil that was right under my nose every day. That’s difficult.”

She wanted to tell him how sorry she was, how sympathetic, but she knew better than to offer platitudes when he was upset so she clasped her hands around her coffee mug and remained silent. In seconds he’d turned and stormed out the door.

Ryder was absolutely right. His loss was worse than hers in many ways. Not only had he lost his beloved Melanie and been left to raise their baby alone, he blamed himself for not considering his wife’s killer could be a colleague. Carrie had presented such a mild-mannered facade they’d all been fooled.

As Sophie started to clear the table she recalled Ryder’s outburst and froze in place. He’d raised his voice again. And sounded furious. So why wasn’t she shaking like a leaf?

A glance toward the closed door allowed her to envision him slamming it behind him. No panic ensued. As a matter of fact, there were surprisingly warm and tender feelings flowing over and through her.

She closed her eyes and leaned on the table with both hands. Something momentous had happened tonight and it had nothing to do with snakes, at least not directly.

The emotional healing she had prayed for since she was a child had apparently begun. The scary question was, Why?

An even more disquieting answer came in the form of the admirable chief of police whose raised voice no longer set her nerves on edge. Why not? What had made the difference?

Phoenix came out from under the table and bumped her leg, wagging his tail and panting as he looked up expectantly. That gave Sophie her answer. She wasn’t afraid of Ryder for the same reason Phoenix had accepted her.

Trust. Plain, old, heartfelt trust.

And to nurture those feelings between herself and the chief she’d eventually have to break down and name her deceased partner’s disruptive brother Stan as one of her suspects.

She couldn’t expect Ryder to reflect her growing sense of trust if she weren’t totally honest with him.

Starting immediately.

A shiver sang up her spine and prickled at the nape of her neck. When Wes had died she’d blamed herself even more than Stan had blamed her, so his tirade at the grave site had seemed fitting.

In retrospect, it had been a lot worse than she’d realized. It wasn’t merely his voice, because the threat had been whispered. It was his eyes.

There had been hate sizzling in his gaze. Hate and murderous fury. The kind that lasted. Simmered. And sometimes boiled over.

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