Chapter 16

Bullet wound or no bullet wound, Theo was ready to punch Hugh in the head. No, in the throat. That way, his partner would have to stop talking.

“Nothing? Not even running her license?”

Theo’s jaw ached with the effort it took to unclamp his molars enough to speak. “Drop it.”

“I’m not dropping it.” Of course he wasn’t. Theo stood and started to pace Hugh’s deck. The rock fell away beneath them, exposing a startling view of the evergreen-studded cliffs that rose from where Lion Creek had worn a fold in the mountain. The rest of Hugh’s house wasn’t much, but that view from the back deck made developers and real estate agents from all over Colorado knock on his door with offers. Hugh had grown up in that house, and he’d inherited it when his grandparents died. Theo couldn’t see him ever selling it. “Are you listening to me?”

At Hugh’s demand, Theo turned to face him. “No.”

“No, you’re not listening to me, or no, you won’t run a background check?”

“Both.”

Hugh looked ready to hurl a crutch at him like a javelin. “Why not? Why not protect yourself? The woman is running from something; that’s obvious. Who knows what she’s done? She could be one of those black widows, who marry men for their money and then kill them.”

Theo actually laughed out loud at that. “So she picked blue-collar Monroe, rather than Breckenridge or Aspen or Vail, to find her next victim, and a cop, rather than someone who actually has money? If she’s a black widow, she’s not very good at it.”

Although Hugh made a frustrated sound, a grudging smile broke through his scowl. “Fine. So she’s probably not planning on killing you for your money. The point is that she’s running. Don’t you want to know who’s chasing her before you get trampled?”

A part of Theo, the cop part, was still almost unbearably curious about Jules’s past. It was overwhelmed by the much-stronger urge to bury his head in the sand and pretend there wasn’t a huge, blinking neon sign telling him something was very wrong. If he dug into it and found it was something bad, something he couldn’t ignore, he’d be forced to act. And he didn’t want to act. He wanted to keep visiting that dilapidated shithole of a house because he was actually starting to like the place. He liked her brothers and sister, liked the way Viggy became his normal dog-self around them, and Jules…he more than liked Jules.

“You’re ignoring me again.”

“I’m trying,” Theo grunted, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Why?” True frustration filled the word. “I don’t get it. You hate not knowing shit. And now you’re living happily in la-la land, playing house with this woman who’s obviously lying to you. Why aren’t you protecting yourself?”

Silence hung over them, the only sound the lingering echo of Hugh’s words bouncing off the cliff faces as Theo looked at his partner, trying to sort out a rational response in his mind. It was hard to explain—even to himself—this bone-deep assurance that Jules was a basically honest person, that her reasons for whatever she had to do in her past were solid. He didn’t need to hear the entire story. Jules was good. There was no doubt in Theo’s mind.

“It’s true that I don’t know the specifics of her past, but I’m starting to know Jules. She’s kind, and she loves her brothers and sister. I’m not ignoring my gut. It’s telling me she doesn’t have it in her to hurt me or anyone else—intentionally, at least.”

It was Hugh’s turn to study Theo. Finally, Hugh sighed. “I hope you’re right, buddy. I really do.”

Theo hoped so, too.

* * *

Something was out there.

It was something that had woken her, a forgotten sound or feeling or instinct that had made her eyes snap open at two in the morning. It was something that had forced her to check all the scary, dark corners of the house until she ended up in the kitchen, peering out into the darkness, watching shadows where shadows shouldn’t be.

“It’s probably only Viggy,” Jules told her galloping heart as she eased open the back door. Her heart ignored her, beating even faster. She didn’t blame it. It was the “probably” part that scared her.

Sticking her head outside, with most of her body still in the kitchen in case she had to duck inside to safety before slamming and locking the door as quickly as possible, she quietly called, “Viggy? Viggy, you out there?”

Everything went silent. There was no crashing of a large dog through the underbrush, no answering bark, nothing. It was almost like the forest was holding its breath. Even the aspen leaves, which almost never stopped shifting and moving, were still. It was eerie and threatening and Jules didn’t like it.

Retreating into the kitchen, she stared at her cell phone screen immediately after turning the ancient dead bolt and hearing it thunk into place. It felt strange calling him, even though it was for a legitimate reason. Still, her fingers shook slightly when she pulled up his number and hit send, and she was pretty sure it wasn’t from residual jumpiness about moving shadows.

“Jules.” As soon as she heard his gruff voice, she calmed, to the point that she started feeling silly for overreacting. If it wasn’t Viggy, whatever she’d seen moving in the trees must’ve been, if not her imagination, something natural and normal and no reason to get hysterical. “You okay?”

“I’m fine.” Even though she felt a little silly about calling him for no reason, it was still nice to hear his voice. Closing her eyes, she pictured his face, pictured him here with her, his reassuring hand squeezing her arm. The last of her anxiety trickled away. “I just thought I saw Viggy in the trees behind my house, and I was wondering if he’d made a break for it again.”

“No,” he answered immediately. “Vig’s here with me. We’re on duty.”

“Oh!” She’d gotten so used to him being off during his two-week leave after the shooting that she hadn’t even considered he might be working. “I thought you were on days, normally.”

“I am, but there was some shift shuffling happening. Hugh’s out, of course, and three others are down with the flu. Guess it’s going around. Try not to breathe other people’s air for a while.”

She laughed softly as she stepped outside, not wanting to wake any of the house’s still-sleeping residents. With Theo on the line, all the scariness of the dark shadows and the waiting silence of the trees dissipated. “I’ll try. Has it been a busy night, then?”

“Yeah.” He gave a huff of impatience, and she smiled, imagining his cranky expression. “Just a lot of bullshit calls that kept us running. It’s been quiet for the last hour, so Vig and I are parked behind the Suds ‘n’ Go, and I’m trying to get some reports finished up.”

“You’re hiding?” she teased.

“Trying to. Can’t hide from dispatch, though. If they send me a call, I’m stuck.”

“Poor baby.” She smiled again. It was surprisingly easy to talk to Theo on the phone. For some reason, she figured he’d bark a few words at her and then hang up without saying good-bye. “When does your shift end?”

“Six.”

“Are you coming to breakfast?” Her heartbeat sped up as she waited for his answer, and Jules knew she was too eager to hear him say “yes.” Her resolve not to get involved with this cop tended to dissolve as soon as she saw him or spoke to him or touched him or, to be completely honest, thought about him.

His voice roughened, not with irritation, but with a certain husky tenderness she’d just started noticing when he talked with her. “Wouldn’t miss it.”

“Good,” she whispered, flushing, her face hot even in the cool mountain night air. “I should let you finish your reports.”

His groan made her laugh again. “I’d rather talk to you.”

Her face flamed even hotter, and she used her free hand to fan herself—not that it helped. “Um…okay.”

This time, it was Theo who laughed, a low chuckle that raised goose bumps along her spine, up her neck, and under her hair. “Good night, Jules.”

“Good night, Theo. Be safe.”

Long after the call ended, she sat smiling at her phone screen.

A shiver brought her back to reality, and she slipped back into the kitchen. It was hours before she had to leave for work, but there was no way she was going to get back to sleep. Jules figured she might as well do something productive, rather than lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, replaying the phone conversation in her head, and smiling like a maniac. There was no reason she couldn’t clean the kitchen while replaying the call and grinning. She was an excellent multitasker.

She reached for the light switch when she heard a creak above her head. Possibilities raced through her thoughts as she froze, staring at the ceiling, her arm still outstretched. It’s just the house settling, or one of the kids headed to the bathroom, or…

Or there’s someone else in the house.

Once the idea popped into her head, it wouldn’t leave, no matter how many times Jules told herself she was being paranoid.

Just check it out, she told herself as her hand dropped to her side and she moved toward the dark doorway. You’ll see it’s nothing, and then you’ll be able to sleep. Or at least you’ll be able to clean and think of Theo.

Theo. The reminder made her realize she’d missed something. Viggy was with Theo. If the dog wasn’t in the woods, then what—or who—was?

Her heartbeat ramped up until it thumped in her ears, masking all other sounds. Swallowing hard, her throat suddenly very dry, she forced her feet to move to the window. Check outside first, and then go look upstairs.

She peered into the darkness. The moon was half-full, but that almost made things worse. The wind had picked up again, and every swaying evergreen tree cast a shifting shadow that overlapped other shadows, creating a moving, layered grid of semidarkness. After seeing countless crouching boogeymen that morphed into normal, nonscary things like rocks and trees and scrub, Jules gave up. She wasn’t going to see anything out back, and she certainly wasn’t going to leave the kids and go monster-hunting by herself in the dark woods.

Turning away, she moved quietly into the hall. The house had its own dark corners and frightening, shadowy pockets, and she realized she was tiptoeing as she reached the stairs. It was silly. She was in her own house—her own creaky, noisy, possibly haunted house—and there was no one there who shouldn’t be. Although she drew her shoulders back, determined to believe there was nothing to fear, her feet still touched each stair tread softly, and she cringed at each creaky step.

On the second floor, she slipped down the hall, telling herself she was being quiet so as not to wake the kids, but knowing in her heart she was a chicken and a liar. The room right above the kitchen was at the end of the hall, one of two unoccupied bedrooms. Jules reached for the doorknob. Even in the dim light, she could see her hand was shaking.

Biting her lip, she turned the knob and pushed open the door.

The room was empty. Empty and cold. A night breeze blew chilly air through the open window, making the normally limp, old curtains billow and cast dancing shadows across the wall. Why was the window open? Her heartbeat hiccupped, and she told herself firmly that there were four other people in the house, any of whom could’ve opened the window earlier that day.

Sending a nervous glance at the half-open closet door, Jules took a step toward the window, but decided to check out the closet first. As overcautious as it was, she didn’t want to turn her back on a possible hiding spot.

The closet door resisted sliding open but finally yielded, squeaking as it moved along its track. Moonlight filled the space, revealing nothing but an empty closet. Jules’s heartbeat settled slightly. She crossed to the window quickly. Now that she knew the room was empty, she wanted to shut it, to have that barrier between her and whatever was moving in the trees.

As she closed the window and wrestled the rusty latch back into the locked position, she looked out into the backyard. The roof of the small porch was right below her, and she bit her cheek, trying not to think about how easy it would be to climb from the porch railing to the roof to the open window—

“J-J-JuJu?”

She jumped and spun to see Sam in the doorway. Pressing a hand to her thundering heart, Jules glared at him. “What are you doing up?”

He frowned right back at her. “You w-were b-b-being k-kind of loud.”

“Sorry.” Jules took a deep breath and let it out again before forcing a smile. “I’m just being a nervous Nellie. You should go back to bed.”

Instead of responding, he just crossed the room to look over her head out the window. “Is someone out there?”

“No.” The answer came too quickly to be believable, and she grimaced at his skeptical expression. “Really, truly, there’s no one out there. I’m just letting the night worries get to me. Let’s go to bed.”

After studying her for a long moment, he nodded, but he didn’t head for the third-floor stairs.

“Where are you going?” she asked.

“Wh-where are you g-going?” he shot back.

“I figured I’d sleep with Dee.”

“I’ll s-sleep in T-Tio’s b-b-bed. You know h-he’s in T-T-Ty’s r-room.”

Something inside Jules finally relaxed. They’d all be together. “Let’s leave the doors between the rooms open.”

“Of c-course.”

* * *

It was hard to return to the drudgery of reports after talking to Jules, listening to her sexy sleep-roughened laugh and the warm note in her voice as she’d told him good night. He wondered if she’d made up the possible Viggy sighting to have an excuse to call him, and then Theo frowned. If she hadn’t, if Jules really had seen something moving in the woods, what had it been? Just a mule deer or a coyote, or could it have been something more dangerous, like a mountain lion or a bear or a person skulking through the trees? Although Monroe was a fairly quiet town, it did have its share of troublemakers and criminals. He should stop by, check things out.

“Better look around, just in case,” he said out loud, making Viggy raise his head. Although the dog wasn’t plastered against the seat like the first few times Theo had taken him out, his body language was still screaming that he was unhappy.

“Want to go see Jules?” he asked, feeling like an idiot. Viggy wouldn’t understand him. For some reason, though, Viggy thumped his tail weakly against the seat. Despite knowing Viggy couldn’t understand English, and that the dog had responded to something in Theo’s tone, rather than the words, he chose to take Viggy’s reaction as affirmation that he was doing the right thing. “Okay, then.”

Ignoring the little voice in his brain that was mocking him for his pathetic attempt at finding any excuse to visit Jules, he shifted into drive. He’d just pulled out of the car wash parking lot when his radio came to life.

“Unit 5449 requesting assistance on a traffic stop in the three-hundred block of Timson Street.”

Theo was less than a mile away. As he picked up the mic to tell dispatch to put him on the call, he resigned himself to waiting to see Jules. At least he knew she’d be at the diner later. Dispatch copied his transmission, and Theo flicked on his overhead lights, accelerating down the abandoned street. With as little traffic as there was, he kept his siren silent. No need to wake the sleeping neighborhood, he figured.

“Ready for this?” he asked Viggy. There was no tail thump that time, just a mournful look that Theo caught in the rearview mirror. “Sorry, buddy. You’ll have to wait to see your fan club. Otto needs our help.” His foot pressed harder on the gas, and a tiny shock of excitement bubbled up in him. It was familiar, yet foreign, since he hadn’t felt anything except for numbness on a call for months. Theo welcomed that surge of adrenaline. He’d missed it. Turning the corner onto Timson, Theo saw the front of a newer Ford pickup. Behind it, Otto and another man were silhouetted by Otto’s squad car headlights.

“Vehicle belongs to Gordon Schwartz,” the dispatcher continued, and Theo’s shoulders tightened. Schwartz meant possible explosives, which meant Lieutenant Blessard was going to want Viggy to do a check. Theo glanced in the rearview briefly as he pulled in behind Otto’s vehicle. Vig’s tail was firmly tucked, and he’d started panting tensely, the very picture of canine anxiety.

Quickly letting dispatch know he was on scene, Theo got out of the car, turning on his portable radio as he did so. Otto had Gordon out of his pickup and in cuffs, and Theo cautiously approached, his gaze scanning the scene to make sure someone else wasn’t going to pop out on them. As he passed the truck, he looked in the bed and then the cab. Gordon was screaming at Otto until he caught sight of Theo.

“You!” Gordon gave a bitter laugh. “Why don’t you sic your vicious attack dog on me? Oh wait, because it’d run and hide! Perfect dog for a fucking useless, tax-stealing pig who wants to stomp on my constitutional rights!”

Theo cocked an eyebrow at Otto, who gave an almost invisible eye roll in return, making Theo have to swallow a smile. The big guy was usually the king of poker faces, so Gordon must’ve been aggravating him. Otto started searching him, and Gordon’s yelling ramped up several decibels, especially when Otto carefully extracted a Beretta Nano from the cargo pocket of Gordon’s BDUs.

“You’re violating my second and my fourth amendment rights, you fascist asshole!” Gordon screamed.

Otto handed the compact pistol off to Theo. He cleared it, and then placed it and the magazine on the hood of Otto’s squad car. There were four other cleared handguns there, and Theo shook his head. The guy was prepared for a battle. Theo had no doubt they’d find a lot more when they searched his pickup, too.

“Theo,” Otto said, projecting his voice to cut through Gordon’s rant. When Theo looked at his partner, he saw Otto was holding out yet another gun, this one a 9mm Glock. Theo accepted gun number six as Gordon’s protests rose to an outraged howl.

By the time Otto had finished patting down Gordon, there were nine handguns and eleven fully loaded magazines decorating Otto’s hood.

“Watch your head,” Otto rumbled as he assisted Gordon into the backseat of his squad car. Gordon, who’d gone pretty much silent by the time Otto had removed the eighth gun from his possession, responded with an anatomically impossible suggestion.

Ignoring Gordon, Otto closed the door and moved around to the front of the car, where Theo was eyeing the results of the search.

“Once we search his truck,” Theo said, eyeing the weapon collection, “we could open a gun store.”

Otto gave an amused grunt. “The man likes his weapons.”

“Why’d you stop him?” Even as Theo asked, his gaze was moving, peering past the immediate area lit by streetlights and the headlights on their squad cars into the blackness beyond. They were in the closest thing Monroe had to a warehouse district. A boxy building that housed a gymnastics school butted up next to the expansive lot of a landscaping company, and the piles of gravel and decorative rocks cast strange shadows stretching to the ten-foot chain-link fence.

Although this was better than being in a residential neighborhood, where the flashing lights would’ve woken the residents and brought gawkers by the truckload, there was something about the shadowed darkness of the hulking buildings that was making the back of his neck prickle with warning.

“It started as a suspicious vehicle call,” Otto explained. A quick glance told Theo that Otto was scanning the area, as well. Apparently, Theo wasn’t the only uneasy one. “Someone driving by saw Gordon’s truck. It was running, but the headlights were off. When I got here, there was someone standing on the left side of his truck, talking to Gordon, but they ran off as soon as I pulled up. I approached Gordon, saw he had a pistol in a hip holster in clear view of God and everyone, so I arrested him for brandishing.” Otto rubbed his forehead above his right eyebrow. “No licenses on any of those guns, and he doesn’t have a CCW. Said he doesn’t believe in asking the government if he can carry, and he doesn’t see any reason to conceal his weapons. There might be a few extra charges to add to the brandishing.”

Eyeing the extensive collection decorating Otto’s hood, Theo asked dryly, “You think?”

“Not looking forward to searching that truck.”

Theo glanced at the pickup. From what he’d seen during his very brief inspection after he’d first arrived, the topper-covered bed was filled with junk. The cab had looked only slightly better. “Yeah.”

“Think Viggy would be up for a quick check?” Otto eyed Theo hopefully.

“Nope.” Although Theo hated to turn Otto down, he was pretty sure Viggy wasn’t ready. All a failed attempt at searching the pickup would do was destroy the dog’s already shaky confidence. Theo never should’ve tried to get Viggy to search Gordon Schwartz’s compound. It’d just set the dog up for failure, and Theo felt a surge of guilt at the memory. He hadn’t protected his K9 partner. “He’s not ready.”

Otto accepted it easily, right before a thump from behind them brought both of their heads around. Gordon had gotten turned around on the seat and was kicking at the window. Both Otto and Theo groaned.

“Mind if I run him to jail?” Otto asked, already headed for the driver’s seat as he looked over his shoulder at Theo. “I don’t want to have to wrestle him into the leg restraints.”

Theo waved him on. “Go ahead. I’ll keep an eye on the truck until you get back, and then I’ll help you search.” He didn’t say it out loud, but the creeping feeling of being watched hadn’t eased. Theo wasn’t about to turn his attention away from his surroundings to focus on a search, not without someone to watch his back.

“Thanks.” Otto climbed in the squad car and drove quickly down the street, leaving Theo in the dimly lit night with a terrified dog, looming buildings, and a jumpy sense that he wasn’t really alone.

Shaking himself out of his hyperalert state, he returned to his squad car. Grabbing Viggy’s leash, he hooked it to the top hook in the harness. Viggy backed up, ready to brace against the forward pressure, his forehead wrinkled with tension.

“C’mon, Vig.” Theo forced cheer into his voice. It felt easier, more natural this time than it had in a long time. Viggy even cocked his head to the side, and his nervous panting stopped. “Want to play?”

At the word “play,” Viggy’s posture eased a little, coming out of his crouch a little. Encouraged, Theo remembered the stuffed toy he’d tucked into the glove compartment one day when he hadn’t been able to stand the sight of it. He pulled out the bedraggled plush penguin.

“You’ve seen better days,” he muttered, examining the toy under the dome light, but then snorted a laugh and looked at Viggy, who was regarding him cautiously. “Guess we all have.”

Viggy hopped out willingly. Thinking back to that day when he thought he’d have to carry the dog to the scene, Theo was grateful. They’d made some progress, at least. As they approached the truck, though, Viggy dropped farther and farther back, until he reached the end of his lead and stopped.

“C’mon, buddy,” Theo urged, and Viggy reluctantly walked forward again. When they were just a few feet from the truck, Theo stopped and glanced down at the dog’s crouched, miserable-looking form.

“Viggy,” Theo said, and the dog stared up at him, panting in the tense, nervous way that made Theo feel guilty and sad. “Sit.”

There was a half-second pause, as if the dog hadn’t been expecting an obedience command, but then Viggy lowered his haunches to the ground.

“Good boy!” Theo enthused, offering him the penguin. Still eyeing Theo as if he suspected it was all a trick, Viggy shifted forward, so slowly if felt as if he were in slow motion, and closed his teeth gingerly around the leg of the penguin. As soon as the dog took hold, Theo tugged on the stuffed toy, gently until Viggy’s hold got stronger, and he started pulling back. “Good boy!” he called again, swinging the penguin from side to side, swinging Viggy’s attached jaws along with it.

“Viggy, release,” Theo said, and Viggy let go of the penguin, his gaze fixed on Theo. “Viggy, sit.”

Again, he sat, this time as soon as the command left Theo’s mouth.

“Good dog, Vig!” Theo offered the toy again, and Viggy latched on immediately. As he tugged, Viggy’s tail slowly rose, swinging cautiously from side to side until it was wagging enthusiastically. Theo laughed, a sound of pure joy and relief, at the sight of Viggy playing, of Viggy happy—and not just with Jules’s family this time. He was listening to Theo, responding to him, as if they really were dog and handler. For the first time, Theo had a spark of hope that they could really be partners.

“Viggy, release,” he said, and he did, looking up at Theo with an open mouth, his tongue lolling out in a doggie grin. “Good boy.”

Although it was tempting to keep going, to try other commands, to lead Viggy to the pickup and point, indicating that he should check for one of the eight component odors that most explosives contain, Theo just led Viggy back to his squad car. They’d made a huge step forward, and it was time to stop before Theo ruined all their progress by pushing too hard. They’d worked together, and Viggy’d had fun. That was enough. That was more than Theo had expected.

After returning Viggy to the back of his squad car, Theo moved closer to the pickup to wait for Otto’s return. As he stood in the near dark, the sensation of being watched creeping over him again, Theo realized that, strangely enough, he was smiling. Maybe there was a chance that he, like Viggy, could be happy again.

Maybe.