K-9 Hideout Page 3

  Tate could happily stand around half the day, chatting with Sabrina while she pet Sitka, but he was on duty. “You can watch from inside if you want. We’re just going to see if Sitka picks anything up here.”

  The smile that had stayed on her face the whole time she pet Sitka faded, replaced by wariness at the reminder of her stalker. “Okay. Thank you.”

  Tate watched her walk inside, heard the loud click of the dead bolt turning and then said to Sitka, “Let’s see where this guy came from.”

  Most likely, they wouldn’t get much. But knowing which side of the street the stalker had parked on might indicate whether he’d come from the direction of town or somewhere more secluded. Tate was betting on the latter, betting that her stalker had chosen an out-of-the-way cabin, too.

  Directing Sitka onto Sabrina’s porch, he told his dog, “Scent, Sitka!”

  She sniffed the air briefly, then her nose went to the ground, and she barked at Sabrina’s door.

  “Another one. Scent again,” he told her, knowing she’d just alerted on Sabrina, since the woman had been on the porch most recently. Hopefully, the stalker’s scent was still here, too.

  If it was, Sitka should be able to find and follow it. Compared to the paltry five million scent receptors in the noses of humans, dogs had two hundred and twenty-five million.

  Sitka’s nose went back in the air, then down to the ground, sniffing around for a minute. Then she walked off the porch, nose still down. She headed straight into the woods off the side of Sabrina’s porch like he’d expected. But instead of bounding toward the street, she ran around the side of the house.

  Had the stalker crept around Sabrina’s home, maybe peered in her windows? The idea made his fists clench, but it shouldn’t have surprised him.

  Instead of circling the cabin, Sitka raced into the woods, away from Sabrina’s house.

  Frowning, Tate ran after Sitka. He glanced back once, saw the big sliding-glass door at the back of the cabin, Sabrina’s face peering out at them.

  Then he was hurrying after Sitka again. She was definitely tracking a scent. Her nose came up a few times, as she slowed and sniffed the air, before dropping down again.

  As they moved away, the woods got more dense. It wasn’t long before he glanced back, and even knowing where the cabin was, he couldn’t see it.

  He couldn’t imagine a stalker finding a random road somewhere else alongside these woods and then trekking through the trees for miles to leave a note on Sabrina’s doorstep. But Sitka seemed certain, her tail wagging as she ran, because K-9s were trained to think of their police tasks like games. She kept a pace that was hard to match.

  Then a noise up ahead put Tate on instant alert. A rustling, like someone was there. Had the stalker stuck around this long?

  His hand dropped to the grip of his gun in his duty belt even as he continued to scan the woods ahead of Sitka.

  She’d slowed, the fur on her back rising. The fact that she hadn’t shifted slightly and raced toward the noise meant it wasn’t the same person who’d left the scent she was tracking.

  Tate swore as a shape materialized from behind the tree. A black, furry shape, a solid twenty pounds lighter than Sitka, followed by another.

  His pulse spiked, and he tried to keep the panic out of his voice as he called, “Sitka, come! Back up, girl.”

  She backed toward him, her movements slow and controlled, like she was backing away from a suspect so he could take over.

  Only this time, she was backing away from a pair of baby bears. The question was, where was the mom?

  Then there was more rustling, and Tate saw her. A cinnamon-colored black bear lumbering after her cubs. Her head swiveled in his direction, then Sitka’s, as her babies continued to run perpendicular to his dog.

  “Sitka, slow, girl,” Tate said softly, hoping the bear wouldn’t see either of them as a threat. The bear might have weighed about the same as he did and was probably only a foot shorter if she stood, but he was no match for her strength-to-weight ratio. And his pistol was no match for a furious mom protecting her cubs.

  Sitka’s movements became even slower, but she kept backing toward him, showing no fear even as the bear got up on her hind legs, still watching them.

  Then the bear dropped back down, and Tate held his breath, wishing he’d brought the bear horn he kept in the back of his vehicle. He reached for his pepper spray with one hand and got ready to shout and try to seem as large as possible if she rushed them.

  He let the breath out slowly as she followed her cubs instead, but his pulse didn’t return to normal until she was out of sight and Sitka had backed up against him.

  “Good girl,” he whispered, stroking her head as her tail wagged.

  She looked up at him, then back in the direction she’d been tracking, ready to keep working.

  But Tate didn’t want to risk running into the bear again. They usually weren’t dangerous if you were smart, but he didn’t want to startle a mom with cubs. He had no idea how far these woods went before they led to a road. “We’ll look at some maps instead,” he told Sitka.

  Her talents were unproven in the real world, and Tate knew his boss would question whether the stalker had actually trekked so far through the woods, not giving himself easy access to a getaway vehicle if Sabrina or someone else had spotted him. But Tate trusted Sitka.

  He glanced around, seeing nothing but woods in all directions. If Sabrina’s stalker was confident enough to sneak up on her house through a mile or more of woods, he was more skilled than a typical city boy. Or maybe he hadn’t just recently found Sabrina. Maybe he’d been right behind her all along and only today decided to make himself known.

  But if he’d been in Alaska for six months like Sabrina, what had changed to make him announce himself? And what did that mean for Sabrina’s safety?

  Chapter Four

  “He came through the woods.”

  Sabrina stared at Tate, a sick feeling in her stomach. “Through the woods?” Had her stalker seen her in the mornings when she stood outside on her deck, enjoying nature, sometimes in her pajamas? How close had he gotten without her ever suspecting anyone was there?

  She resisted the urge to reach up and touch the alert button that was hanging on a thin chain around her neck. There was comfort in knowing Tate and the rest of the Desparre PD were on the other side of it.

  “Yeah, I know it’s strange,” Tate said, misinterpreting her surprise. “I’m not sure where he came from, because we ran into a bear.”

  “A bear?” She glanced from him to Sitka, relieved that they both looked fine, then realized she’d basically been parroting his words since he’d returned to the house after trying to track her stalker.

  Flushing, she stepped back a little and did something she hadn’t done in two years. “You want to come in?”

  The words felt foreign on her lips, and she realized just how much had been stolen from her. Even the little things, like feeling comfortable enough to trust anyone in her home, had become a thing of her past.

  Not anymore. She stared at Tate, watching a debate play on his face. He was on duty. But he wanted to come inside.

  She hadn’t been imagining that the attraction she’d felt in the brief moments they’d spoken over the past six months was reciprocated. A zing of excitement darted through her, lodging in her chest and quickening her breathing.

  “Can you tell me more about the tracking?” she asked, hoping it would make his decision easier if it was connected to his work.

  “Sure.” He wiped his boots on the mat, and Sabrina held in a smile.

  She wouldn’t have cared if he’d brought in all the mud in the forest. Despite the nerves suddenly dancing in her stomach, this was the most normal she’d felt in a long time.

  “Come on inside, Sitka,” she told his dog, and the Alaskan Malamute glanced at her owner.<
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  When Tate nodded, Sitka bounded inside, danced a circle in the tiny entryway and then sat.

  Laughing, Sabrina asked, “How come I’ve never met Sitka before?”

  Tate stepped inside, closing the door behind him and throwing the dead bolt for her.

  The loud sound made her jerk, her nerves doubling at having a man she’d admired from afar for six months crowding her entryway. He was tall and lean, but whether it was the six inches of height he had on her, the fact that there was obvious power in his frame despite his lack of bulky muscle or just his nearness, the space suddenly felt much smaller.

  “I only got Sitka a few months ago,” Tate answered, either not noticing or pretending not to see her discomfort. “The two of us have mostly been down in Fairbanks for the past two months getting our training.”

  No wonder she’d seen him so infrequently lately, even though she’d gone to town more often, hoping to run into him.

  “What was that like?” she asked, tilting her head back so she could see his face better.

  “A lot of work.” He grinned, and the expression softened the sharp lines of his face, made him seem even more approachable.

  It eased her nerves but only increased her awareness of how little space was between them.

  For six months, every time she’d seen this man, she’d wished she dared risk asking him out. Now he was in her home.

  Taking a step back, she gestured for him to follow, then headed into her combined kitchen and living area. The big sliding-glass door, nestled between two equally large windows, showcased a gorgeous view into the forest. This had always been her favorite spot in the house. But now, as she peered into the dense woods, she wondered if the solitude that had always made her feel so safe and alone had just been camouflage. She wondered how often someone else had been staring back at her unseen.

  “He’s not out there now,” Tate said.

  When she glanced at him, there was sympathy on his face, and anger, too, like he was as upset about the invasion of her privacy as she was. “If he was, Sitka would have found him?”

  At the mention of her name, the dog hurried over to stand between her and Tate, tail wagging.

  Tate reached out and stroked Sitka’s head. “Yes. The guy trekked a long way to get here.”

  “I wish he’d run into the bear,” Sabrina muttered, earning a brief laugh from Tate. Then, she awkwardly gestured to the couch facing the view. “Have a seat. Do you want something to drink or—”

  “No, I’m fine.” Tate settled on one side of the couch, giving her plenty of space. Sitka followed, lying beside the sofa.

  Sabrina sat on the opposite end of the couch, twisting slightly to face him. He looked at ease in her home, and she wondered if being a police officer brought that level of calm confidence or it was just his natural personality.

  She was the opposite, usually filled with a jittery energy, a need to be active or creative. Sitting still had always been a challenge. As she stared at him, he watched her quietly, and she wondered if he could tell that she wanted to jump right back up and move. She wondered if he could tell just how much nervous excitement filled her at his nearness.

  “How does it work, the tracking?” she blurted, partly because she was curious and partly to fill the silence.

  “Whenever you move, you leave a scent behind. So, on your porch, Sitka actually scented on you first. She followed the scent to your front door.” He laughed, then continued. “Then she found the second scent, presumably the stalker. She sniffs the air to locate a scent and then puts her nose to the ground. Dogs can track scents for long distances, through water, through all kinds of weather conditions. It’s pretty amazing, actually.”

  Sabrina looked at the Alaskan Malamute, who had enough of a gangly puppy look that she couldn’t have yet been quite full-grown. “Very impressive.”

  As if she knew she’d just been complimented, Sitka’s tail wagged.

  “Did you grow up with dogs? Is that why you wanted to be a K-9 officer?”

  “I didn’t grow up with dogs, which is probably why I wanted to be one,” Tate said, leaning back against her couch, shifting to more fully face her.

  Suddenly, despite his uniform, despite the reason he was here, it felt more like a first date than an update on the investigation. Not just that, but it felt like a good first date, the kind that would ultimately lead to a second date.

  “I always wanted a dog. When I saw Sitka in the shelter, she was just so—” he grinned at her, his expression full of affection “—energetic and goofy.”

  Her tail wagged again, and he added, “She was also smart and eager to please, which helped her in training.”

  Then Tate’s expression got more serious. “What about you? Did you have a dog? Who’s waiting for you back home?”

  “I didn’t have any pets, mostly because I lived in a fifth-floor walk-up in New York City. But I guess it was a good thing, since running with a pet would have been harder and might have been a way to track me. I’m close to my mom and brother, though. They’re both back in New York. I haven’t dared to contact either one, and I miss them every day. The PI who helped me said it was safer to cut all contact on my end unless there was an emergency.”

  Tate frowned slightly, sympathy on his face, but instead of turning it into a discussion about her stalker like she’d feared he might, he said, “I haven’t seen my family in a while, either. I can imagine how much you must miss yours.”

  She nodded, trying not to dwell on the memory of the last time she’d seen them both, when they’d fought her so hard on her decision to go into hiding. Now, after all the sacrifices she’d made, her stalker was still right behind her.

  Shaking off the frustration, she focused on the fact that she had Tate here. After two years of trying to keep everyone at a certain distance, she deserved at least one normal conversation. One semi-truthful conversation. She hadn’t told him her real last name to protect her family’s safety, but this was the closest she’d felt to normal in more than two years. She could actually be herself and not have to watch every word, worrying she might accidentally let something slip about who she really was, why she was here.

  And talking to Tate was easy, comfortable. Despite her hyperawareness of him, she’d gladly just sit and chat with him all day.

  “Have you always lived in Desparre?”

  He looked surprised by the conversation turn. “No. But my mom’s family is part Tlingit, and they’ve been in Alaska forever. My dad’s family has a long-running charter business, so they’ve been here a long time, too. My parents divorced when I was young, and I was an only child, so I was shuttled back and forth a lot. We lived in a bigger town than this, but it was still small enough to run into one parent while I was with the other. They get along okay now, but in those early years, not so much.”

  “Where in Alaska did you grow up? I got here and pretty much headed straight north until I was snowed in. But I’ve heard some parts of Alaska actually get a real summer.” She grinned, because the locals always seemed silently amused by anyone who wasn’t native to Desparre and was bundled up when the locals were wearing shorts.

  “I...” Tate frowned, shook his head slightly. “My family is from here originally, but I actually grew up in the Midwest. I moved to Desparre five and a half years ago.”

  She stared at him, wondering why his words were suddenly so stiff, his gaze averted like he wasn’t giving her the full story. But why would he lie about where he’d grown up?

  She’d probably just become unpracticed at getting-to-know-you conversations. But if she was truly going to stop running, if the Desparre PD was going to help her make a stand here, then maybe all the things she thought she’d never have again were actually possible. That meant she needed to figure out how to talk to a man like Tate Emory again.

  After what had happened to Dylan, she’d vowed neve
r to date again, never to put anyone else in danger. But now, staring at Tate, seeing how dedicated he was to helping her, seeing her interest reflected back in his gaze, everything seemed possible again.

  * * *

  WHAT HAD HE been thinking?

  Tate had managed to spend five and a half years without telling anyone—not even his old partner, Peter—the real details of his past. Half an hour with Sabrina at her house yesterday, and the words had just come out of his mouth, without him even realizing his mistake until she’d asked which Alaskan city he’d lived in as a child.

  Hopefully, his awkward attempt at correcting his mistake hadn’t been an obvious lie.

  Tate had spent most of his morning patrol going over the conversation in his mind, trying to figure out if he’d just blown his own cover. He didn’t think so. Despite having been on the run for two years, Sabrina seemed to take his word at face value. It made him feel worse about needing to lie to her.

  No wonder he hadn’t entered into many deep friendships, let alone any relationships, since he’d come here. It wasn’t in his nature to lie to people.

  He missed having someone who knew the truth about him. Even though he and Chief Hernandez had rarely talked about his real past, knowing that someone here was aware of his secret had made him feel less alone.

  It had also given him a stronger sense of security. Chief Keara Hernandez had let him go through the police academy as if he really was a rookie, then brought him onto the force. She could face legal repercussions if the truth ever came out, but she’d done it as a favor to an old family friend who worked for Witness Protection. That family friend also knew Tate’s family. The man had agreed to help him hide outside official channels. That favor had allowed Tate to return to a career he loved, let him return to a state he loved.

  Yes, he was more than a thousand miles from his childhood home, from his family. But the beauty he’d taken for granted as a kid made him feel closer to them now, even if he couldn’t see them. It made him feel one step closer to who he really was.