Chapter Nine
The blare of a trumpeted reveille disturbed Tag’s dream of entwined limbs, the heady scent of arousal, and a body relaxed from hot sex. When he grabbed for his phone to silence the alarm, he realized he hadn’t been dreaming.
With a sleepy protest, Malin patted a hand over the mattress until it encountered his ribs then she sighed.
That soft sound went straight to his heart. Even in her sleep she sought the security of physical touch. Last night’s lovemaking proved to be both the most challenging and the most soulful he’d ever had. Watching her work through her demons in order to share intimacy, without his active participation, tested his self-control. Hearing her plea and seeing her quick response to his touch strengthened his feelings for this brave woman. Once the room was quiet again, he gathered her close and closed his eyes. Just five more minutes.
From the other side of the bed, an alarm bonged like a church bell.
Malin sat upright and squinted in all directions, searching the immediate surroundings with patting motions. “Where’s my damn purse?”
Tag settled a hand behind his head and watched her fumble to locate and silence the church bells. Years in the military had trained him to function on reduced sleep at various times of the day or night. But his sweet lady must need a minimum of eight, and all during the darkness. He’d witnessed her bumbling her way through the first several minutes after each awakening. Not the most sexy of sights.
Tempted as he was to feel her naked body nestled against his, he had a deadline to meet. And they had a ninety-minute drive to reach Lackland, possibly two hours if traffic was heavy. Spotting Malin curl into the fetal position prompted him to jostle the mattress.
“I’m up.” She lifted her head and glared in his direction through tousled strands that covered her eyes.
“You showering?” He retrieved the towel off the floor and knotted it around his hips.
“Sure, but you go first and warm up the room.”
He pressed a hand to the window and scoffed. “Malin, we’re in Texas, not Montana. Temperature is in the mid-eighties.”
She adjusted her cheek on top of her clasped hands. “Then you make the coffee and I’ll get up.”
That one was a new delaying tactic. “Picking up coffee from a drive-thru.”
“What?” She shot upright on braced arms. “We’re not eating in the resort’s restaurant? I looked forward to ordering a meal from a menu I can hold in my hands.”
Winking, he pointed. “Gotcha. Bet your blood’s pumping now. We’re leaving at fifteen hundred hours.” Now that things were settled, at least in his mind, between him and Malin, he could focus on Dex. The return trip didn’t have a hard deadline so they could play the schedule by ear.
Two hours later, they crawled along the 410 loop at twenty-five miles an hour. On a four-lane divided freeway, five lanes in some places. He’d forgotten that fact about this sprawling city
“Have you ever seen so much traffic? Where is everyone going?”
“Home. After four o’clock is commuter traffic.” At least, today wasn’t Friday.
“But we’re almost to the base, right?”
He glanced sideways and saw her stretching toward the back seat to reach Pixie’s paw. “Less than twenty miles. Malin, Pixie can ride with her harness clipped to your seat belt.”
“But the front seat’s not the safest place for her. I’m fine.” She faced front. “Are you excited about seeing your dog again? Want to talk about your feelings?”
“After that session earlier today, I’m all talked out. In fact, I’ve never heard so much talking during sex.” He was quick to rub a hand over her knee. “Just teasing, babe. I’m glad you worked through what kept you trapped.” All of a sudden, the congestion loosened and their speed hit forty-five, closing the distance on their destination. He started looking for the correct exit. Now that Malin mentioned feelings, he recognized signs of tension—the base of his skull was tight and he kept flexing his fingers around the steering wheel. Him being cool and relaxed at the human-canine reconciliation offered the best chance to re-establish their relationship.
Thirty minutes later, Tag needn’t have worried. From the moment he rounded the back corner on the row of kennel runs, he heard Dex’s welcoming bark. “I’m here, Dex.” Pulse pounding, he broke into a jog scanning the runs until he spotted the brown and black dog with the point missing on his left ear. War wound. His gut clamped tight. “Hey, buddy. I’m right here.”
Sometime later, that’s where Malin found him—sitting on a concrete slab with Dex’s head in his lap, running his fingers through the Malinois’s thick coat. His grateful tears had dried but he didn’t care if she spotted any evidence.
Being with his buddy and knowing a good place waited in Montana healed the worry he’d grappled with for so many months. Dex and he were a team again. Within a few weeks, they could get back into training.
“Tag, are you all right?” She grabbed hold of the chain link fence and lowered to a squat.
Pixie sat on her left side, panting.
Dex crawled forward to touch noses through the fencing.
“Hey, that’s my line. We’re fine, just reconnecting.”
A frown wrinkled her brow. “You left the SUV almost an hour ago.”
“Sorry, babe. I hope you didn’t feel abandoned.” He pushed to a stand and brushed dog hair off his clothes. “Guess I better find the kennel master on duty and get the adoption paperwork signed.”
****
They spread the return trip over the bulk of three days, including deviations from major highways to allow for sightseeing. Cell service proved reliable enough for keeping in touch with their respective businesses. The easier driving pace allowed for long conversations about their childhoods and hopes and dreams. Tag determined stopping in motels would give Dex’s leg a rest from the jolting. A side benefit was two nights of romping sex exploration that left Malin and him sweaty and satisfied.
Only a few hours from home, Tag’s phone rang. Still hadn’t bought the hands-free device. That task would be a priority. He reached over from the driver’s seat and swiped the screen. “Redmond.”
“Tag, Detective Rayburn. Do you know where Malin Langstrom is?”
The harried tone in the man’s voice brought Tag to full attention. He shot a sideways glance and met her surprised gaze.“Right beside me.”
“And you’re where?”
“Driving out the north entrance of Yellowstone at Gardiner headed toward Eagle Rock.” He braked for a steep downhill curve and hoped the signal didn’t cut out this far below the ridgeline.
“We think we’ve located the black king-cab.”
“Where?” He cut a sideways glance toward Malin.
“Abandoned in Lewis and Clark Caverns State Park with a busted axle. Looks like someone tried driving in the forest.”
Malin grabbed his forearm. “That’s not far from Dream Vistas.”
He nodded. “Appreciate the update, Detective.”
“If any matches are found, I’m expecting a fingerprint report sometime tonight. I’ve put a rush on the results.”
“Roger that. Keep us apprised of anything else.” He tapped the red button.
“Should we warn Tilda and Jude?” Malin lifted her phone from her lap.
He stretched across the space then rested their linked hands on the console. “And tell them what? We don’t know enough yet to get them worried. The sheriff is conducting nightly stops, Swede’s monitoring the system, and Hank had guys doing walk-throughs of the grounds a couple of times while we’ve been gone.”
“You’re right. But as we drive closer to home, I can feel the tension returning. Up until that phone call, I saw you checking the rearview mirrors more than usual.”
He thought he’d been subtle. “Only a few times. But now we can relax. The truck’s bound to reveal fingerprints. If the last two are like the first, they have records.”
They stopped in Livingston for burgers and to switch drivers. But neither had much of an appetite and ending up feeding the meat to the dogs. Just as Malin turned into the Dream Vistas’ driveway, Tag got a call, leaving Malin to unharness the dogs. Tag put the call on hold and lifted Dex out of the SUV then went back to his call.
Malin wrestled the contraption that held up Dex’s hindquarters down from the back.
But Dex walk-hopped on three legs to the corner of the garage then laid down. After glancing over his shoulder and whimpering, he struggled upward and moved along the building before dropping again.
Malin waved an arm and pointed. “Tag, what is Dex doing? I tried to lead him to a tree, but he’s over by the garage.”
****
Tag disconnected the phone call and watched. When Dex repeated the motion, Tag tensed and turned toward Malin. “How many times has he done that?”
“The last was his third. What does it mean?”
“Dex is a scent dog, and he’s picked up a trail.” Needing to hide his growing concern, he stepped in front of her and hugged her tight. “Love you, babe, but I need to get to work. Grab Pixie and get into the house. Call Hank and tell him to send in the cavalry and get his best bomb tech over here.”
“Bomb?” Her eyes rounded.
“Go, Malin. Now.” At the back of the SUV, he shoved aside their bags of clothes and souvenirs and opened the hatch. Thank God, Hank was an organized guy. Tag pulled out a Kevlar vest and a hard hat and put them on. From a small compact box, he pulled an earbud and inserted it--just in case it was still set to the right frequency. He sorted through the other vests until he found the smallest size and rushed to fasten it on Dex. With leash clipped tight to Dex’s collar, Tag waited for the dog to struggle upright then gave the command. “Seek, Dex, seek.” He wished like hell he had a handgun, but his KA-BAR would have to suffice.
With no waver in his path, Dex set off in a straight line from the back of the garage across the open field. Four more times, he dropped to a lying position and held it.
“Good job, Dex.” He dropped flat to the grass. The line was clear and Tag sighted on specific trees to get the bearings straight. “Time to wait for reinforcements, buddy.” Tag rolled to his back and told his body to relax. Early in his career, when he had the need to prove himself, he would have tracked the scent into the forest alone until it ran out. But, the older and wiser Tag Redmond had someone to live for and a beloved’s feelings to consider before he ran off playing at being a solitary hero.
He stared at cloud formation when a click sounded in the earbud.
“Redmond, you on this line?”
“Reading you, Hank.”
“You slacking off, Ranger?”
“Who’s asking?”
“Taz, on your three o’clock about nine hundred out.”
“Mad Dog on your nine, north side of the barn.”
“Patterson on the road in a whirlybird standing by. Waiting on your go, Redmond.”
Tag rolled to his stomach and used his scope to locate the other agents. “Have your bomb tech check the garage. Dex marked spots along the west side.”
“On the move.”
Tag made one last reading and signaled for Dex to stay.
Dex whimpered and made crawling motions with his front paws.
Tag held his collar tight and stared into Dex’s eyes. Then he gave the hand signal again. As much as Dex had already helped, on the uneven terrain, he’d only slow Tag’s pace. Rising to a crouch, he took two deep breaths. “Go, go, go.” In a bent position, he jogged to the tree line and looked for a foot trail. Whoever put the explosives in the garage probably left the property in this direction.
Mad Dog and Taz converged on his location and joined the search. The men walked three abreast with heads down.
“Bear here. Working downhill from Rocky Point. Headed toward a red tent near a flat boulder beside a creek.”
The memory of the water fight with Malin surfaced, but Tag pushed it aside.
Mad Dog straightened. “Need back-up?”
“Going solo.”
Minutes passed with only the crunch of leaves as the men looked for footprints.
Taking too long. Hairs on the back of Tag’s neck rose. Something was off.
“Tent’s empty. But I found rope and a floor plan of a multi-story house.”
“Shit, it’s a diversion. Get back to the main house.” Tag spun and ran hard, dodging under branches and around trees. “Possible abduction in progress.”
“Taz, approach from the back.” Hank gave command instructions. “Mad Dog, swing around to the front. Report when you breach and Helo will block the driveway. Tag, be cool. They’re not leaving the property.”
As the men moved into position, no one reported. Tag broke from the trees and spotted an empty field. No Dex. Running in a zig-zag pattern toward the deck, he heard Taz hot on his heels. Remembering a shade tree, he headed left toward the spa. In no time he’d scaled enough branches to drop onto the roof and gain access through an upstairs window. Too many accesses paid off in his favor. He unsheathed his knife and crept down the hallway, clearing each room he passed. A video played in one room with the volume muted. He left it running.
At the head of the stairs, he heard the murmur of voices, all female. Had the agents returned before the kidnapper made his move? Somehow, taking a different path in the forest? Reaching the bottom stair, he heard a scratch on the front door and pressed himself against the entry wall, knife raised to shoulder height.
The door eased open, and a tall form, clothed in camo, stepped inside.
Mad Dog. Tag waited until the ex-soldier made eye contact before signaling a forward direction then right turn. Why did they women sound so calm? Tag hesitated just short of the doorway and dropped to his knees. He pulled a telescoping mirror from a vest pocket and scoped out the kitchen from floor level.
Two of the kitchen chairs held bound and gagged men.
What the hell? Tag jumped to his feet and stepped into the room, sweeping his gaze around but not finding Malin. He took a moment to glare at the scumbags who’d caused his love such heartache.
A whoosh of the sliding door off the back deck sounded followed by gasps.
Tag crossed the floor in long strides until he saw the back of Malin’s head then he slowed.
“Don’t be alarmed. Brotherhood Protectors, ladies.”
Tag waved a hand. “Taz, all clear. Two tangos are immobilized and breathing.”
“You’re back.” Malin jumped up from her chair, clasping Pixie to her chest.
Dex whined from under the table, his long tail thumping the floor.
“How you’d accomplish the capture?”
“Swede called about figures on the surveillance monitor. So we gathered the available resourceds.” Malin circled her arm to include the group. “Pixie sounded an alarm. Jude had pepper spray. Dex blocked the front door. I didn’t want to get close enough for a hip throw so I just used the always reliable kick to the balls.” She grinned.
Tilda patted a hand on an antique rifle lying on the table. “And I had our granddaddy’s sawed-off shotgun for backup.”
He glanced at the ex-soldiers who just stared and busted out a laugh. Seems their skilled and coordinated tactics were upstaged by loyal canines and resourceful women.