Chapter 12

“That’s it!” Theo slammed the exam room door. “I’m sick of this shit.”

Hugh hushed his partner, but it was too late. Grace, who’d finally dozed off five minutes earlier in a very uncomfortable-looking chair, had already startled awake. She winced, probably because the movement hurt her strained shoulder. Curled up in the chair, she looked so fragile, so delicate, that it was hard to believe she was the tough woman who’d saved herself and Lexi. Hugh watched her closely while absently responding to Theo. “You’re sick of it? I’m the one who keeps bleeding. All you have to do is visit me.”

Turning his head, he saw that Theo was vibrating like a tuning fork—a rage-filled tuning fork. Hugh couldn’t help but smile again. He knew that Theo would take every bruise and burn and bullet hole for Hugh and Otto and Jules and the kids if he could. The same went for Otto. Hugh’s partners were his family.

From the look on Theo’s face, it seemed that Hugh’s happy expression was just cranking up his anger, but that was fine. If Theo did give into temptation and punch Hugh in the head, at least they were already at the hospital.

“It’s not a joke,” Theo snarled. “The R and R guy talked about you.”

“About me?” Hugh widened his eyes, trying to keep a straight face. “Really? What’d he say? Has he heard good things? Bad things? Is it my hair? Does he hate it? Did he say that my T-shirts are so last year? Because that’s just mean.”

By the way Theo worked his jaw muscles, Hugh was pretty sure that his partner had ramped back up to murderous. It took Theo a few seconds to say a word, but he finally gritted out, “About who wants you dead, dumbass.”

Grace sucked in an audible breath.

“Me?” That caught Hugh’s interest. He’d much rather discuss which scumbag had a grudge against him than the way it hurt Theo’s secretly tender heart when anyone he cared about got hurt. “Not Grace?”

“It wasn’t Jovanovic. The truck bomb, the shooting, the biker, your deck… They were aiming for you. There’s a hit out on you.”

“What?” Grace came to her feet. “What do you mean there’s a hit out on Hugh?”

He’d been so sure that Martin Jovanovic was trying to get to Grace that Hugh’s thoughts were scattered by the unexpected revelation. He stared at Theo for a long moment before he spoke. “Who ordered the hit?”

“Truman.”

“Truman?”

“Yes.”

“Who’s Truman?” Grace asked.

“Sit.” Hugh frowned at her. She was looking pale, too pale, and he knew her arm had to be killing her.

Of course she ignored him. “Who’s Truman, and why does he want you dead?”

“A coke dealer.” Hugh couldn’t answer the second part of Grace’s question. The man known only as Truman was a major player in the Denver area, but Hugh had never had a run-in with him. In fact, he’d never even met the guy. All Truman was to Hugh was a fuzzy surveillance photo and half a name in a briefing. It didn’t make sense that Truman wanted him dead so badly that he was willing to pay a lot of money to have him killed. “Why?”

“Dresden.”

“The china?”

“The town.”

“In Germany?”

“Why would the… No.” Theo was looking exasperated again. Grace just appeared confused and scared as she turned her head back and forth between the two, following their conversation. “Not the German city. The Colorado town. The one just forty miles from here. The one with a lot of rich skiers and boarders who want their coke.”

Of course. He should’ve figured it out a lot earlier. Hugh blamed his denseness on the fact that both his leg and his hands felt like they’d been put through a meat grinder and then set on fire. “So, Truman’s finally figured out what the Rack and Ruin guys have known for years. If they take Highway Six from Denver to Dresden, instead of the interstate, then they’re a lot less likely to run into any state troopers who might take their nose candy away. But Six takes them right through Monroe.”

“And you’re the only narcotics-detection K9 team in Monroe since Denny retired.” Theo started to pace the room.

“Does Denver PD have any idea where to find Truman?” Hugh asked.

“No.” Pivoting around, Theo paced the other direction. “They’ve been trying to pin this guy down for years, but they don’t even have a last name for this asshole. LT called in the FBI to help. Apparently, they’ve been trying to get a solid case against Truman for a while now, too.” The door swung open, forcing Theo to stop abruptly so he didn’t get slammed in the face. When Otto stepped inside, he looked about as happy as Theo and Grace did.

“More good news?” Hugh tried to make his voice sound light, but he didn’t succeed. His burned hands throbbed in rhythm with the bullet wound in his leg, and he cursed his intolerance of pain medications.

Otto scrubbed a hand over his head. “The lieutenant and I checked out what was left of your deck.”

The nightmarish image of Grace and Lexi hanging off the edge of the railing, dangling over endless space as he tried to knot the rope around his torso, hit Hugh hard. He wanted to grab Grace’s hand, to pull her against him and keep her safe, but he managed to restrain himself. “Someone messed with it.” His voice was dark and sure. He’d rebuilt that deck just a few years ago. It had been strong and secure; he’d bet his life on it.

Silently, Otto gave a short nod.

Theo swore, and Grace made a small sound in her throat, but Hugh tightened his jaw. Although he’d known the investigating officers would find that the deck had been sabotaged, it still hit him sharply. It was one thing to threaten his life or to blow up his truck, but Grace and Lexi had been hurt, had almost been killed.

Truman had declared war, and Hugh was ready to fight back.