“Great job, everyone.” Stephanie watched her assistant, Taylor, stitch up the border collie. The poor dog had been hit by a car. They managed to save most of her puppies, but it had been touch and go with her for a couple of hours.

“I’ll finish here, Steph. Your shift is almost over, right?” Taylor was her latest acquisition from the university veterinary services emergency room. She jerked her head toward the door.

Stephanie nodded her thanks and walked out, rolling her neck to knock loose some of the kinks. She pulled down her mask and tore off her surgical gear to toss in the trash. Everyone was chatty and joyful. They were already feeding the pups. Nothing made this group happier than healthy animals.

Her mind instantly wandered to Max and his new human, Gideon. Ryan once told the nickname Grimm was perfect since the man never seemed to actually smile. The way he’d grinned at Max made her heart flip over. He may not know it yet, but Max was probably never going to let him go.

And she didn’t blame him one bit. Maybe Max wasn’t ready to give up. Grimm just sparked that lust for life and duty back in his heart. She hoped and prayed that it stayed that way. Seeing such a lively dog refuse to eat nearly killed her.

“Stephanie, you have a phone call at the front desk. It’s your brother.”

Crap. Steph shook off her thoughts and ducked her head around the wash area. If Keith was calling, she’d probably forgotten to meet him for lunch. Again. “I’m finishing up here. Give me just a few minutes and I’ll take it in my office.”

“Sure thing.”

Stephanie scrubbed clean and then rushed to the office, going over what she could have possibly forgotten. Her stomach twisted a bit in anxiety when she grabbed the phone and took the call off hold.

The moment she put the headset to her ear, she heard Keith’s coughing. With a wince, she leaned forward to rest her arms on the desk. His cough was getting worse. She waited until it wound down to some soft sputters. “Hey Keith.”

“Hey kiddo.” He wheezed for a moment and then suppressed another cough. “Sorry, about that.” His breaths came in shallow gasps. His lungs had been damaged in the house fire that had taken their parents decades ago. The resulting COPD and asthma had him in and out of hospitals for most of his life.

“Did you take your breathing treatment today?” She closed her eyes in annoyance. Every time she opened her mouth, she seemed to turn into a mom.

“Would it kill you to let me be the older brother for once? It’s just a bad day. How is work going?”

“It’s been insane here today. We weren’t supposed to meet for lunch today, were we?”

He half laughed. “No. I was just wondering if you wanted to go to dinner tonight.”

Dinner out when he coughed like that usually meant hospital time. “I think you should rest a bit. We can go this weekend.”

“I’m fine.” A thread of anger filtered through his voice. Keith hated the occasional helplessness his asthma shoved down his throat. But if he didn’t take it easy, he’d be stuck in a hospital bed. Something he hated worse than anything.

“We’ll see. I’ll swing by after work. Speaking of which, you’ll never guess who I ran into today.”

“Who?” The amusement was back in his voice.

“Do you remember Ryan’s friend from the station?”

“Vaguely.” His one word answer seemed strained. Another short cough came through the line.

She waited until his coughing subsided. “Apparently, he’s moved to the investigation division.” Keith had been obsessed with firefighters and all their inner workings since they’d been rescued back when they were kids. His adoration of the men and women in Fire Rescue had inadvertently influenced Ryan into pursuing a career in the fire department. Keith loved any tidbit or gossip she could share.

“Wow. So he’s still involved. I thought he’d retired or something after…” Keith’s voice trailed off. Ryan’s death had hit him hard. Hit them all hard, honestly.

“Not sure, but he has eyes like Sasha. Do you remember him?”

“That cat of yours from when we were kids? How could I forget? He’d stare at me for hours with those two-colored eyes. Remember that psycho cat movie you used to make me watch? I think they based it on him.”

“Keith,” she laughed. His breathing had gotten easier. “He was cuddly and adorable.”

“Maybe to you.” He sounded outraged.

Stephanie smothered a chuckle.

Her brother went quiet for a moment. “You sound stressed. It must have been hard seeing him.”

Stephanie fiddled with a pencil, rolling it along the top of her desk. “Not really. He looked better than that time in the hospital.”

“Who wouldn’t?”

“I know. It’s just—“ The words choked her. And so did her pride, dammit.

“What is it?”

“He didn’t seem to remember me at all.” There, she said it. And her cheeks heated up with embarrassment while the sick feeling in her stomach grew. She expected Keith to give her a hard time. Like he always did.

“Didn’t you tell me he was yelling that he could see Ryan? They had to restrain him at one point, right?”

She’d been talking to the lieutenant when Gideon had bellowed that he could see Ryan. She rushed inside and found him pointing at an empty chair with bandages tore loose from his face. He had stared right at her, but his left eye had been red, likely a Subconjunctival Hemorrhage caused by trauma to the eye. For a moment, their gazes had locked, and then she was shoved out of the room while they sedated him. “He had bandages over his head and eyes, so he probably had a head injury.”

“There you go. So, what was he doing there?”

“Oh. Yeah. It looks like he’s taking old Alex’s position with Max.”

“They have a new arson dog handler?” Keith sounded more excited about the dog than the rest of the conversation.

She remembered how easily they’d talked Grimm into taking over Max’s care. Was it the dog, the shock at being knocked on his butt, or Torres’s ingenuity was anyone’s guess. “I wonder who’s handling who, but yeah.”

“Okay, we definitely need to meet for dinner. I want to hear more about the new handler.”

She glanced at her cell phone. No call from the man yet. “Sure. But let’s order takeout instead.”

“You got it.”

What was Mr. Tall dark and Grimm up to right now?

The deputy chief was a firecracker of efficiency. She was the first female DC, and first woman in charge of the division in its long history. You didn’t get here by pussyfooting around sensitive issues.

“That eye is definitely going to take some getting used to.” She leaned back in her chair and observed him while he stood at ease in front of her desk.

“Two years, ma’am, and it still freaks me out.”

“Is that why you wear a bandage?”

He opened his mouth and she waved him off. “Torres told me about it. Do you have a medical reason for the bandage?”

“No ma’am.”

“Then lose it. You can wear regulation sun glasses outside, but not indoors without a medical note. I need your depth perception and all your senses. If you can’t handle that, now’s the time to speak up.”

Grimm shook his head. “Not a problem ma’am.”

She leaned forward to cross her hands on the expansive desk. “Good. Moving on, then. I have nineteen men working their asses off in this division. Do you know the percentage of arsons we actually solve per year?”

“No ma’am.”

“Less than 25%. Before K-9 Max, we were at 12%. Do you know why?”

He fell back on the training they drilled into his skull. “Most scenes grow cold within hours of the initial fire. The hotter it burns, the more likely it will be that the accelerant and any other evidence burns with it. An arson dog’s ability to sniff out accelerants speeds up the process before the trail can go cold. Most criminal cases require a combined effort between our division, the Dallas police department, forensics, and occasionally homeland security.”

“You know your stuff.” She tapped a finger on the desk. “Do you know why I invited you to the arson side instead of the investigation side?”

He shook his head once. The investigation side of the division dealt with accidental fires while arson dealt with criminal intent. He could see why some of the investigation team was irritated that an outsider had stepped into this spot.

“You found a witness on a case that had gone cold. Our investigation work tends to remain on the initial crime scene, not cross into police investigation territory. A case, I might add, that led to your rather unusual eye color change. By the way, did you know that they put hazel on your physical description since they couldn’t figure out how to say blue and green for your eye color?”

“I had no idea.” He clenched his jaw. “Ma’am, I chased down any lead I could despite being reprimanded by my superiors for my obsession. I know that finding the arsonist won’t bring my teammate back, but it will prevent him or her from striking again.”

“And that leads us to our current situation.” She opened her palms and rose to her feet. “Alexander Mitchell.” She picked up a folder and set it down on the table in front of him. “Max’s previous owner and our only K-9 handler.”

He reached for the folder and opened it up. Inside, he saw a balding older man in uniform glaring at the camera. At first glance, it looked like an autopsy report and service record. “What do you want me to do with this?” She tossed him a bag that contained a set of keys. He took it.

“Torres tells me Max has taken a liking to you. We need his nose, and if he’s willing to work, I’m willing to make it happen. After our meeting, you’ll schedule a call with the Arson Dog Training Center and coordinate with them about handling Max. If things work out, I’ll send you to the training school.”

“Wait a second, I’m now a K-9 handler? How does that even happen?”

“Max is old. The training facility stated that it would take him too long to train with another officer. If we don’t have a handler by the time he’s up for retirement, our needs for a new arson dog goes to the bottom of the list. We need Max. Max needs you. Therefore, you’re going to be Max’s new best friend.”

“I’ve never owned a dog in my life.”

Her smile did nothing to put him at ease. “You’ll find that dogs tend to own you. Those are the keys to his house. There was no criminal investigation, and his sister has already given us permission to gather Max’s things. She won’t be able to handle his estate for a few more weeks.”

Entering a man’s house after he died to gather his dog’s things? His first day had taken a turn for the surreal.

“You’re not carrying a firearm.”

“I haven’t been issued one yet.”

“When you do, make sure you get down to the range and get used to how it handles. Your primary mission is to protect Max. He’s your partner. When you go out, you’ll carry your weapon, concealed, if possible, beneath your jacket. K-9 Max will wear his issued arson dog vest.”

“Where do I find one of those?”

“No idea where Alex kept them, but if you can’t find one let me know. We’ll get you a new one ordered ASAP. You are responsible for your partner’s health. If you have any questions, contact Max’s veterinarian. Torres should have her number.”

Grimm didn’t mention that he’d already received it from the woman herself. “We met today, actually.”

“You made quite an impression, it seems. Our veterinarian has already called to see how you and Max were doing.”

“She seems to really love Max.”

“Um hmm.” The deputy chief smirked and waved Grimm away. “Welcome to the unit. Make sure you get settled in. Torres will be your training manager.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He nodded and then left the office with key in hand.

The moment he opened the door, Max sat up next to a desk covered in stacks of folders and paperwork. He didn’t have to look to realize it was probably Alexander’s old spot. Max thumped his tail against the desk and waited until Grimm got to his side before leaping forward and nuzzling his palm with a cold, wet nose.

“Hey man, how did the intro go?”

“Good, I think. I have an assignment already. I need to pick up Max’s things from Mitchell’s old place. I figure I’ll do it after work. Want to come with me?”

“Nope.” Torres pointed to the desk. “If his work area looked like this, I have no interest what-so-ever in seeing what he hoarded in his house. Good luck, amigo. Besides, I have a date with a fine little lady who makes the best chicken fried steak you’ve ever tasted.”

“He means his mother,” someone from the back yelled.

“Shut up, man!” Torres spun around and shook his fist toward the air. Everyone laughed.

He needed to know what to do with Max, and the DC had said Torres knew all the answers. “I need a vest for Max.”

“Oh yeah, here you go.” He strode over and opened the top desk drawer. He tossed a yellow and blue vest his way. “He had them stashed around all over the place since Max wore his out all the time.”

“Where does Max usually stay during the work day?” The thought of putting the dog in the kennel bothered him.

“The deputy chief lets him stay right here, next to the desk. Just make sure you take him for a walk.” Torres smacked him on the shoulder as he emphasized the word walk. Max leapt to his feet and jumped toward Grimm with something close to an excited look on his face.

“You did that on purpose.”

“Yep. Let’s take him down. I need to stretch my legs anyway.”

“You mean smoke a cigarette.” Called the same voice from the back.

“Quit making me look bad, man.” Torres grabbed the leash from the top drawer of Alexander’s old desk and tossed it to Grimm. “Let’s go before the peanut gallery really starts thinking they’re funny.

For the second time that morning, Grimm let out a laugh.