K-9 Defense (HQR Intrigue) Page 3

  Tears of relief spilled over and instantly froze on her cheeks and then Colter was there, his strong arm around her shoulders, leading her into his home.

  She didn’t even pause at the doorway, wondering if it was really a good idea to trust a man she’d just met. She simply let him help her inside.

  As soon as she was through the doorway, Rebel pressed up against her side. The dog stayed with her until Colter pushed her into a big recliner near the fire. Then Rebel sat primly next to her, soft brown eyes full of worry.

  The heat from the fireplace made Kensie shiver. It didn’t make any sense, but she couldn’t seem to stop as Colter bent down with a pained grunt. He pulled the sopping wet boots from her feet and propped her legs up near the fireplace. Then he peeled the gloves from her hands, rubbing them between his own big, calloused palms until the warmth finally penetrated.

  And so did his words. “What are you doing here? Wandering around in this weather is dangerous. Do you have some kind of death wish?”

  Before she could bristle, he let out a heavy sigh and stopped rubbing her hands. “Hold them by the fire. I’ll make you some cocoa.”

  “My truck hit a snowbank,” she managed through chattering teeth.

  “But why were you up here to begin with?” he asked, looking like he wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer as he walked into the connecting kitchen.

  “I came to see you. I need your help. No one here will talk to me. But you know them. You know the area. You know how to track—”

  “I told you, Kensie, Rebel and I don’t do that anymore. And the kind of tracking you’re talking about, we never did. It’s not the same thing. Dogs are trained to do one thing. You can’t just switch them over, make a drug-sniffing dog an explosives one. Doesn’t work like that. And finding people without a direct trail? Even if we had a scent to work from, we wouldn’t be able to do that.”

  Kensie felt her shoulders drop. She’d come all this way. This couldn’t be the end of it.

  Colter kept talking as he put a pot on the little stove and poured in milk and cocoa. She barely heard his words as she thought about the note that had been found. Thought about Alanna, somewhere in the Alaskan wilderness with her kidnapper.

  “...Military Police don’t do that. In a war zone—”

  Kensie’s head snapped up. “What did you say?”

  “That kind of tracking work,” Colter said, as the scent of cocoa filled Kensie’s nostrils. “We don’t—”

  “No, not that. You said you were Military Police?”

  “Yeah.” The word was full of wariness.

  “So, you know how to run an investigation.”

  “So do the civilian police. And they actually have authority here,” Colter said as he handed her a steaming mug of cocoa.

  The heat felt wonderful in her hands, the scent tempting her. But she just clutched it and stared up at him. “They don’t want to help me.”

  He frowned as he lowered himself stiffly onto the chair on the other side of the fireplace. “Why not?”

  Internally, she cursed her stupidity. If he knew the truth about what the FBI thought, he’d call her crazy, too. He’d probably join the chorus of people trying to get her to return home.

  She postponed answering him by taking a gulp of the cocoa. It burned its way down her throat, making her eyes water, but it also seemed to warm her from the inside, so she took another sip and then another. When the mug was almost empty, she lowered it to her lap, realizing her teeth had finally stopped chattering.

  Pins and needles danced along her feet and hands, but they’d gone numb when she’d been outside. The painful return of sensation was a good thing.

  “Kensie,” Colter prompted, staring at her with light blue eyes fringed with pale brown lashes.

  He was more than just good-looking. The hard, battle-worn expression he seemed to constantly wear disguised it, but when he stared at her like he was now—with curiosity and sympathy—awareness settled low in her belly.

  Suddenly, it wasn’t just the scent of cocoa tempting her.

  His dark blond hair was cropped close, military style, but she suspected it would be soft if she ran her hands through it. There was no hint of matching scruff on the hard planes of his jaw, but she wanted to slide her hands over the skin there, too, to pull him close and see how much control he’d have if she kissed him.

  As she stared, his pupils dilated. Fire seemed to race over the icy surface of her cheeks and she ducked her head, trying to gain control of her emotions.

  It had to be the fear of dying all alone of hypothermia. Or the stress of chasing after Alanna. Or maybe she’d just ignored her own needs for too long.

  “It’s old,” Kensie blurted, hoping he hadn’t noticed what she realized had been blatant ogling. But of course he had, or she wouldn’t have seen the reciprocal attraction.

  “What’s old?”

  She wanted to smile at the confusion in his voice, a little part of her hoping he was still as distracted as she was. The more sensible side of her brain reminded her that she was stranded in his cabin and she barely knew the man.

  The voice of reason in her mind won. She straightened in her seat, meeting his gaze with an all-business stare. “The case is fourteen years cold.” She shrugged, hoping he’d believe it, because it was the truth. It just wasn’t the whole truth.

  She rubbed Rebel’s chin with her free hand, to distract herself from the lie by omission. She prayed he wouldn’t read it on her face.

  “So, they’re not going to help you?” He sounded incredulous and a little outraged.

  The combination just made her like him more. But she couldn’t afford to be distracted by him. Not when Alanna might be out there somewhere. Not when everything inside of her was screaming that he could be the break she’d been waiting for most of her life.

  And she had him. She could feel it. He sympathized with her pain and he had skills she’d never possess. With his help, they might really be able to bring Alanna home.

  “It’s a resources thing.” She paraphrased what she’d been told hundreds of times over the years. Police always had to work on new cases, missing persons who hadn’t been gone for years, who had a higher chance of rescue. The longer someone was missing, the less chance they had of ever being found.

  Years ago, they’d first learned the realities about Alanna coming home as months went by with less and less interest from the police and the community. Her parents had made a promise. They’d do whatever it took to be sure that wasn’t Alanna’s fate.

  But fourteen years of disappointment and two other children who needed them had taken its toll. Kensie knew it was her turn to take up the torch and keep that promise.

  She stared expectantly at Colter, sensing his next words would be a wary agreement to try and help.

  But he just shook his head sadly. “Believe me, I understand your pain, Kensie. Probably better than you realize. But I’m no good for you. I’m no good for anyone. I can’t help you.”

  * * *

  MAYBE SHE WAS CRAZY.

  It wasn’t just her parents and Flynn who’d begged her not to fly out to Alaska on a questionable piece of evidence and a thin thread of hope. It was also her friends, the ones who’d been by her side since childhood, who’d watched how the constant surge of hope followed by inevitable, bitter disappointment had almost torn them all apart.

  She’d overheard family friends talking about how Flynn’s car accident had been a necessary wake-up call for her parents, reminding them they still had two children who needed them. And in some ways, it had. But it had also been the day they’d decided to accept something Kensie never would: that Alanna was gone for good.

  But right now, hopelessness reared up.

  After his announcement that he wouldn’t help her, Colter had gone outside to dig out her truck over her objections. The wh
ole time he’d been gone, she was worried he’d hurt his leg or freeze out there. But he’d bundled up in much better winter gear than she owned and forty-five minutes later, he’d reappeared.

  She could tell he was trying to hide how badly his leg hurt, so she’d forced herself to keep quiet rather than asking. But guilt had followed her closely as Colter drove behind her rental all the way back into town. She’d parked by the police station where she’d first seen him playing fetch with Rebel, rolled down her window and debated what to say. She’d known him only a few hours and yet she’d been struggling to say goodbye.

  Apparently, he had no such quandary. He’d given her a wave, a solemn “Good luck,” and off he and Rebel had gone.

  She’d probably never see them again.

  The idea left a bad taste in her mouth.

  But right now, she had to figure out how to move forward. She’d come here alone, with no expectation of help from an ex-Marine with investigative and tracking experience. Nothing had changed. She could still do this alone.

  As many times as she told herself that, she still felt Colter’s absence like a huge blow to her goal of finding Alanna. And maybe a little bit of a personal blow, too, although she didn’t know him well enough to feel anything more than unsatisfied lust.

  “Get over it,” Kensie muttered. If Colter wouldn’t help her, she’d do it herself.

  After her experience slamming into that snowbank up near Colter’s cabin, her first stop should have been to get better winter gear. But down in the main part of town, the snow was slowing and the accumulation was much less. Only an inch or two of slushy white coated the streets.

  More than a pair of warm boots, Kensie needed a mental boost. Something had to go right, something to reassure her that she wasn’t chasing a ghost. Maybe there would be a lead at the store where the note had been found. If she could locate the store itself.

  Having an immediate goal made Kensie feel better. She steeled herself as she stepped out of her rental and back into the cold, but couldn’t stop the shiver that raced up her spine. As quickly as possible, she stomped back into the grocery store where the woman had helped her before.

  The instant Kensie walked inside, the woman—who was probably the owner as well as the cashier—looked up. Her steel-gray eyes, the same shade as her long braid, were sharp and knowing. “He was no help?”

  Kensie shrugged in response, not wanting to badmouth Colter after he’d whipped her up a pot of cocoa, warmed her hands between his own and dug her truck out of the snow despite a badly injured leg. “It was a silly idea,” she said instead.

  The woman let out a grunt that sounded like she disagreed. “What else do you need?”

  A small smile tugged at Kensie’s lips. Living in a place like this must teach you to read people. As the bell dinged behind her, announcing another customer, Kensie said, “Colter Hayes has his own troubles. But I still need to find the store where the note was found. Do you think you could draw me a map? The roads are really confusing out here.”

  “That’s because our roads are what you city folk would call hiking trails. Honey, you might want to wait until the snow clears. It’s out on the edge of town—so far out, most people don’t even think of it as part of Desparre. Owned by a cranky old guy who’s as likely to close for the day as not if the mood strikes.”

  Ignoring the little voice in her head reminding her what had happened when she insisted on driving to Colter’s place in this weather, Kensie shook her head. “I want to try today. I need some good news right now.”

  “He might not have any.”

  “I know,” Kensie said over the lump that had risen in her throat. She swallowed the discomfort back. She had to stay positive.

  If she didn’t keep searching for her sister, who would?

  “All right,” the woman agreed with a deep frown that told Kensie she didn’t approve. But she drew a map and explained it three times.

  Kensie thanked her, then headed back into the cold. She eyed the clothing store down the street, wondering if they’d have better winter gear, then looked up. The sun was hanging low, casting beautiful shades of red and orange across the sky. If she wanted to talk to the owner and get back to her hotel before it got dark, she needed to go now.

  A tap on her shoulder made Kensie jump.

  The man standing there backed up a step as she turned to face him. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

  He was almost as tall and muscular as Colter. Almost as good-looking too, with jet-black hair and chocolate-brown eyes. Kensie lowered her arms.

  “I heard you talking to Talise.” She must have looked perplexed, because he added, “In the grocery store. You’re looking for Jasper’s General Store?”

  Kensie nodded, clutching the hand-drawn map she still wasn’t completely certain she could follow.

  “I can take you if you want. My truck’s right over there.” He pointed to a massive vehicle parked in front of hers.

  It was probably much more solid in the snow than her rental, but what did she know about this guy? Back home, she’d never get into a truck with a stranger. Of course, back home, she never would have driven out to a stranger’s cabin, either.

  Because even though a little voice in her head kept insisting she and Colter had a connection, the reality was that she didn’t know him.

  As if reading her thoughts, the guy stuck out his hand. “I’m Danny Weston. Former military just like your friend Colter.” He gave her a big, crooked, boyish-looking grin. “Although Colter was Marines. I was Air Force. Grunts versus high flyers. Just kidding,” he added as she took his hand.

  It closed loosely around her own, as if he was afraid to hurt her as he shook. Then he gave her a firm shake anyway. Must have been a military thing.

  Kensie had an internal debate. She didn’t know Danny, but she didn’t know Colter, either. And that had turned out fine. Besides, this was about her sister. If it wasn’t for me, Alanna never would have been kidnapped. Kensie nodded to Danny. “Yeah, that would be great. Thank you.”

  “Sure.” He led her over to the massive vehicle and held open the passenger door. “We can talk to old Jasper and then I’ll have you back here in an hour, before it gets dark.”

  The last of her doubts fled as she settled into the comfortable passenger seat. “That sounds perfect.”

  Danny smiled at her again, then slammed the door shut and ran around to the driver’s side. He started up the engine and was just stretching his seatbelt across his lap when the driver’s door was ripped open and he went flying out of the truck.

  Surprise and panic shot through her as Kensie’s gaze darted to the perpetrator. Colter.

  “Get out of the truck now!” Colter yelled at her, his voice deep and commanding. Rebel stood beside and slightly behind him, teeth bared.

  The panic intensified. She fumbled with her seatbelt as Danny climbed to his feet. She tried to open the door, but there was no door handle on the inside, just an empty space where it should have been.

  Kensie shoved at the door, but nothing happened. She launched herself across the bench seat, straight toward Danny.

  He was squaring off, facing Colter, as though he was about to take a swing. But across the street, people were starting to come out of businesses, maybe because they’d heard Colter’s yell.

  Danny paused, and while she still could, Kensie shoved herself out of the truck. Her body brushed past him and he started to turn toward her.

  Her heart was pounding out of control, her limbs heavy and awkward in her fear. Then Colter’s hand closed around hers, pulling her first to him and then shoving her behind him. The fear shifted, no longer for her own safety.

  Two men who’d come out of the hardware store were slowly walking their way. Talise stood outside with a cell phone to her ear and her eyes on the police station down the road.

  She kn
ew Colter was strong from the way he’d practically lifted her off her feet just now, but with his bad leg, would Danny hurt him? Kensie’s whole body began to shake as she glanced back toward the police station, willing officers to come outside.

  “Drive away while you still can,” Colter said in a low, menacing tone that sent shivers up her arms.

  Rebel crouched low on her haunches and took a slow step forward, growling deep in her throat.

  Danny took one last glance at the approaching townspeople, then gave Rebel a nervous look. He let out a string of nasty curses directed at Colter. Then he jumped in the truck and pulled away so fast she and Colter had to leap backward to avoid being hit.

  As soon as Danny was gone, Colter spun toward her. The fury on his face was unlike anything she’d ever seen. His jaw was hard, his lips turned out in a near snarl. His eyes were narrowed into furious slits. But he took a deep breath and the tension disappeared, his face smoothing back into what seemed to be his default—not happy and mild, but serious and steady.

  Next to him, Rebel straightened, then sat, as if nothing had happened.

  “I’ll help you,” he told her.

  “What?” She was almost more shocked than when he’d pulled Danny out of his truck.

  “On one condition.”

  “Okay.”

  “It’s just me, Kensie. You don’t get into some random jerk’s truck. That guy—” He broke off, blowing out a breath, then finished. “I help you and no one else.”

  The fear that had filled her a moment ago drained away, leaving her exhausted. But a smile built up inside. This was what she needed. This was who she needed. Colter was her best chance to change everything that hurt in her life.

  He held out a hand. “We have a deal?”

  Kensie placed her hand in his, liking the way his fingers closed solidly over hers, as if he knew she was strong enough not to be crushed. “Deal.”

  Chapter Four

  Danny Weston had nearly kicked his ass.

  Colter shoved down the embarrassment and tried to be thankful for the show of support from the townspeople. Despite the fact that he’d been here almost a year, the people of Desparre barely knew him. But they probably knew Danny. And what they knew, he was pretty sure they didn’t like.