Guardian

The squeal of tires behind her sent a chill of terror over her flesh. The killer’s truck rounded the corner and roared down the street after her. She gripped the steering wheel so tight that her hands ached.

Only a few more feet to safety. She laid her hand on the horn in an effort to attract attention. She lifted a prayer to God that someone inside the building would hear the commotion and come out to investigate.

Because surely, the killer wouldn’t risk doing something to her and Charlie within plain sight of the police station, would he?

* * *

Leo and True slipped through the ground-floor doors of the FBI’s Tactical K-9 Unit headquarters in Billings, Montana.

His boss, Max West, had called for a team meeting, pulling Leo and True in from a morning run. His T-shirt was damp with sweat and his running shoes were silent on the concrete floor. He hoped this powwow meant some news about Jake.

Leo left True in the care of one of the dog trainers, then scrubbed a hand over his bristled jaw as he took the stairs. He’d hardly slept in the week since Jake went missing. They’d had no word on his whereabouts. The silence and lack of information concerned him deeply. For the millionth time, Leo prayed that his buddy was alive and that the team would find him.

The six-story brick building was the unit’s base of operations, but at any moment each team member could be deployed to any crime scene in any state in the country. That was how they’d ended up in that Los Angeles warehouse a week ago.

The K-9 unit consisted of the training facility on the ground floor, while the second floor housed the agents’ offices and computer tech center. The other floors were occupied by a variety of government officials. Both the training center and the presence of other governmental employees helped to disguise the team’s covert operations.

Stopping by his desk in the bull pen, Leo shrugged off his lightweight jacket and hung it over the back of his desk chair. He checked for messages in his inbox on his FBI-issued laptop, flagged a couple to return to later, then headed to the communications center. Pausing in the doorway, he noticed the team wasn’t gathered there. There was only Dylan O’Leary, the computer genius. “Hey.”

Dylan spun from the bank of computer monitors to grin at him. His spiky, sandy-blond hair and dark-framed glasses screamed techno geek while his loud Hawaiian shirt over his official FBI Tactical K-9 Unit polo made it clear he was a man with a sense of humor. “How’s it going, Leo?”

“Going.” Leo leaned a shoulder against the doorjamb. “You?”

Dylan sighed and rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “I miss Zara, but Radar and I are doing okay. We’re getting along.”

Leo was glad to hear his fiancée’s dog wasn’t giving him trouble. Zara was at Quantico, training to be an official FBI agent so that she could come back and officially join the team. “Where is everyone?”

“The debriefing room.”

Leo chuckled. In other words, the kitchen. “You coming?”

Dylan turned back to his computer monitors. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

Leo left Dylan to his gadgets and headed into the large open area of the “debriefing” space. Along the far wall was a state-of-the-art kitchen, complete with oven, stovetop and fridge, all in stainless steel. A bank of windows provided natural light and an extra-large monitor hung on the wall near the door.

A long hand-carved wooden table with bench seats dominated the middle of the room. The team was already seated and munching on fruit platters and trays of pastries from Petrov Bakery, a favorite with all the agents.

Max stood at the coffee machine, making himself a latte. He glanced up and tipped his chin at Leo. He was a tall man with short blond hair and a ragged scar on one side of his face. “The gang’s all here.”

Not quite. Jake was missing.

The familiar burn of guilt ate at Leo, killing any appetite he might have had. He straddled the end of the closest bench next to Ian Slade. The tall, muscular agent cracked a joke that had Harper Prentiss and Julianne Martinez and the team’s general assistant, Christy Burton, laughing. As usual, the good-humored Ian was charming the ladies.

Max moved to the head of the table and sat. “Where are we with the Dupree case?”

“Reginald Dupree isn’t talking,” Harper replied. “He’s lawyered up and so have his henchmen. The US district attorney is spitting mad about it.”

“Angus Dupree escaped—we assume on the helicopter,” Timothy Ramsey, a junior agent, added. He sat across the table from Leo between Harper and another junior agent, Nina Atkins.

“And Agent Morrow?” Max asked, his piercing blue eyes surveying his team. “Jake’s brother, Zeke, has been hounding me for answers. I don’t have any to give yet.”

Leo’s jaw tightened. It had to be tough for Zeke, thinking he’d never see his brother again. Jake had mentioned once he and his brother weren’t close and barely spoke, but still... Family was family.

“The press is also pestering me for a statement,” Christy said with a flip of her auburn hair. “I can’t keep them in the dark for much longer.”

“It’s been a week and no word,” Julianne said, her voice soft. No doubt she was thinking Jake was dead. Leo wouldn’t accept that.

“Angus took Jake,” Leo stated. “We know that. We tested the blood we found at the scene. It was Jake’s.”

Ian swiveled toward Leo. “Why would they take him?”

“For leverage. To get information out of him.” Leo couldn’t help the growl in his voice. He should have had Jake’s and Buddy’s backs.

“Angus might use Jake to reduce Reginald’s sentence,” Harper added.

Ian shook his head, his normal good humor disappearing as he sobered. “If Angus was going to use him, he’d have done so by now, right?”

“Jake has intimate knowledge of our investigation into the Duprees,” Harper said. “He knows that we have Esme Dupree stashed away in witness protection, ready to testify against her brother.”

“But Jake doesn’t have access to Esme’s whereabouts,” Ian pointed out.

Dylan stepped into the room carrying a computer device. “Hey, guys, I received an alert on a crime I think you might want to hear about.” He tapped some keys on his console. “A witness in Settler’s Valley, Wyoming, claims to have seen a man dumping a body into the Blackthorn River. By the description, it sounds like the victim could be Esme Dupree.”

Leo’s stomach muscles clenched. Could the report from Wyoming be true? Had a witness seen Esme Dupree’s dead body? Without Esme, their case would fall apart. “Is the witness reliable?”

“The Settler’s Valley police chief thinks so,” Dylan replied. “A schoolteacher named Alicia Duncan. She saw the killer, who she claims shot at her and her three-year-old son.”

Leo’s breath caught in his throat. A child. Memories assaulted him. He fought them back with the practice of over two decades. He focused his gaze on his boss. “We’ll go. True is the only dog qualified for the task.” True’s specialty was Water Search and Detection.

Max’s eyebrows hitched upward. “Good point. Leo, you and True make your way to Wyoming. I’ll call the US Marshals to verify they haven’t lost our witness. Dylan, contact the nearest SAR team that has a qualified diver and send them to Settler’s Valley. Also get everything you can about this new witness to Leo, as well as any info you can get on the supposed killer.”

“On it.” Dylan pivoted and exited as quickly as he’d arrived.

By the time Leo had showered and changed into khakis and a black, long-sleeve polo shirt with the FBI logo on the breast pocket, Dylan had a dossier on Alicia Duncan ready.

After he had True secured in his special compartment of the official K-9 unit SUV, he flipped through the file on the witness, getting the basics. She seemed legit. A widowed schoolteacher with a young child living with her father. Not some attention-seeking nutcase wasting his time. Leo placed the folder on the passenger seat and set off for Settler’s Valley, Wyoming. He’d interview the witness and then take True to the river. If there was truly a body to be found, True would find the victim. He always did.

TWO

“Mommy, I’m hungry,” Charlie whined. “I want sherbet.”

“Me, too, honey.” Stomach cramping with hunger, Alicia smoothed back Charlie’s dark hair as he bent over the coloring book one of the female officers had scrounged up along with a box of crayons. Three hours had passed since she’d come blazing through the police station doors with Charlie in her arms.

The police chief, Dwayne Jarrett, was a friend of her father’s and had escorted her to his office, where he listened to her nearly hysterical account of what she’d seen and that the killer was after her and Charlie.

She wasn’t sure Dwayne had believed her until he’d gone outside to move her car off the lawn, where she’d left it parked near the front entrance, and seen the bullet hole in the back bumper. After that he’d taken her seriously. Like her word hadn’t been enough.

She sighed with frustration and glanced out the office window. The bull pen was filled with officers busy doing whatever they did. She’d spied a vending machine on the way in. Tired of waiting, she decided to take action. “How about we go see if we can find something to eat or drink.”

Hitching her bag over her shoulder, she rose and held out her hand to Charlie. He set aside his crayon and clasped her hand. His tiny fingers curled through hers and love for this little precious gift from God exploded in her chest. She had many regrets about her marriage, but Charlie wasn’t one of them.

She opened the office door, and they slipped out into the hall. She bought raisins and apple juice from the vending machine then ducked into the restroom. After freshening up, they returned to the chief’s office. She’d expected it to be empty, so she was a bit discombobulated to find the chief sitting behind his desk and another man taking up a good portion of the small space.

He had short blond hair and wide shoulders beneath a jacket with the acronym of the Federal Bureau of Investigation on the back. What was the FBI doing here?

Chief Jarrett leaned to the side to see her around the other man. “There you are.”

The federal agent turned. Alicia sucked in a sharp breath. The man had the greenest eyes she’d ever seen, and they assessed her from head to toe with an inscrutable expression that made her want to fiddle with her hair. She straightened to her full height of five-ten. She was so done with being intimidated by men, especially law-enforcement types.

Next to the agent sat a handsome chocolate-colored Labrador attached to a leash held loosely in the agent’s hand. The dog tilted his head at them as if he, too, was assessing her and Charlie.

“Doggy!” Charlie pulled on her hand, trying to escape from her grasp, but she held on tight, not sure how good an idea it would be for her son to launch himself at a K-9 dog.

“No, sweetie. The dog is working.”

The agent’s eyes flared with obvious surprise, and then an appreciative gleam shone through the sharp emerald-colored gaze. “It’s okay. True won’t bite him.”

“True. That’s an interesting name,” Alicia murmured, still reluctant to release Charlie’s hand. “We’ll not bother the dog.”

Jarrett gestured to the fed. “Agent Leo Gallagher is with an elite K-9 investigation team for the Bureau. He would like to ask you some questions.”

A gentle smile curved the corners of Agent Gallagher’s mouth and her heart did a funny little move she’d never experienced before. What was that about?

“Ms. Duncan, please have a seat.” He flicked his hand toward the place she and Charlie had recently vacated.

Staunchly ignoring her inner reaction, she lifted her chin. “I’ll stand, thank you.”

She settled Charlie back in the chair and opened the goodies for him to munch on. Though his attention was clearly on the dog, she remained a barrier between them. Despite the agent’s assurance that his canine wouldn’t bite, she refused to risk it.

Aware that she was making the agent wait, she took a bracing breath before turning her attention back to the blond-haired fed. “I’ve already told the chief everything I can remember.”

Agent Gallagher held her gaze. “Yes, he’s shared your statement with me. I would like to hear it for myself.”

Her eyes darted to the chief. “I’d prefer not to explain in front of my son.”

Charlie didn’t need to hear the details now or ever. When she’d first arrived a female officer had taken Charlie aside for the few moments it had taken Alicia to explain to the chief what had happened.

Jarrett stood. “Alicia, Agent Gallagher will be taking the lead on this case. Come on, Charlie. Let’s take a walk.”

Alicia bit her bottom lip to keep from protesting. She didn’t like having Charlie out of her sight. But she could hardly protest given that the chief would protect her son. Not only because it was his job, but also because they were a close-knit community. The folks of Settler’s Valley took care of one another. The adage that it took a village was true for this small town.

After her mother’s death, the citizens had rallied around her father and made sure he’d had everything he needed. Alicia regretted she hadn’t been here at the time. But she was now, and she had every intention of making up for lost time.

When the chief and Charlie were gone, the agent hitched a hip on the edge of the desk. “Now, start from the beginning.”

The dog took his cue from his handler and lay down with his head on his paws.

“Fine.” Though the two officers might be relaxed, an anxious quiver ran through her. She fought to keep her voice even as she described what she’d witnessed on the river, the killer chasing after her and Charlie, the gunshots assailing them, and finally ending up at the police station.

The agent’s stoic expression never wavered. “The truck was reported stolen from the marina a half hour ago.”

“That makes sense,” she said. “He’d come from upriver.”

“If you sat with a forensic artist, would you be able to give a detailed description of the suspect?”

Acid churned in her tummy as she recalled the man’s face. “Oh, yes. I doubt I’ll forget his image anytime soon.” She shuddered. “Dark, cold eyes. He had a shaved head. Not tall, but bulky.”

“I’ll send for an artist. Did your son see the man as well?”

“No, thankfully.”

“That’s a blessing,” the agent murmured.

Was this man a believer or was he using the word as a nicety as some people did? “It is a blessing from God. A huge one.”

Something flickered in his eyes before his expression turned all-business again. “The woman you saw go into the water... Did you get a look at her face?”

“No. I only saw her long red hair and her limp body.” She shivered at the horrible memory.

“Would you be able to pinpoint where the body went into the water?”

“Of course, Agent Gallagher. I’m surprised the police haven’t already gone out to drag the river.”

“Call me Leo. Settler’s Valley isn’t necessarily equipped for that. A diver is on his way from Sheridan. I’d like you to go with us to the scene of the crime. My partner and I will find the body so the diver can bring her up. True’s a trained water-search dog.”

Doubt made her voice quiver. “But it’s been hours. The woman is at the bottom of the river. It’s deep in the canyon.”

“The woman’s body will give off gases and liquids that True will pick up.”

She swallowed back the bile rising up. This was one of the many ugly sides of police work. “I can’t leave Charlie.”

“He seems to be in good hands with the chief.”

“Wouldn’t the chief want to be at the river when they bring up the victim?”

He arched an eyebrow. “You heard the chief—I’m taking the lead on this case.”

Not liking his superior tone, she lifted her chin. “Why? What does a small-town murder have to do with the feds?”

He pressed his lips together and a muscle ticked in his jaw. “I can’t divulge the details of the case, Ms. Duncan.” He held open the door. “Shall we?”

She hated being left in the dark. Irritation spread through her chest. She preceded the agent out of the office, determined to get this over with so she and her son could resume their quiet life without murder, mayhem and too-handsome federal agents with secrets to muddy the waters.

* * *

Leo brought his vehicle to a halt in the gravel parking lot behind the Blackthorn River marina. He glanced at the woman beside him as she stared straight ahead in stony silence. Alicia Duncan had a nice profile, a straight nose, with high cheekbones. Her long, wavy dark hair hung over her slim shoulders. She wore a light pink tank top and jean capris with hiking boots. Very earthy.

Nothing like any of the schoolteachers he’d had as a kid. From the dossier he’d read, he knew she’d grown up in Settler’s Valley but had lived in Tacoma, Washington, for the better part of a decade.

She popped open the passenger door, but before she could step out, he laid a hand on her arm. “Wait for me and True.”

She met his gaze and blinked, the pupils of her bright blue eyes a bit too large, indicating she hadn’t fully recovered from her earlier ordeal. Leo would imagine the pretty single mom had never been shot at before, nor ever had to run for her life.

Leo hated that she and her son had had to witness such evil and be put in danger. But while he was on the case, he wouldn’t let anything happen to them.

He gave her arm what he hoped would be a reassuring pat before he climbed out of his SUV and released True from the compartment in the back. The Lab sniffed the air, his tail stiffening, his ears forward and his mouth closed—all signs that he was detecting something of interest to him, but not yet a threat.

No doubt he could smell or hear the rushing of the river, which told him they were about to go to work.

Leo walked around to the passenger side and opened Alicia’s door. She gave him a tight smile as she slipped out of the vehicle. A police cruiser parked beside them and two officers stepped out.

“I’m Officer Jenkins and this is Officer Reynolds,” the older of the two officers said, introducing himself and his partner. “The chief said we’re to stick close to Ms. Duncan.”

Leo nodded and shook the men’s hands. “Much appreciated.”

Alicia hung back with her arms down at her sides, but there was no mistaking the tension pinching the corners of her mouth.

They didn’t have to wait long before a white truck with the Sheridan police department logo on the side turned into the parking lot. It was towing an aluminum flat-bow boat sporting an electric trolling motor to allow them to move slowly through the water while True searched the surface for scents.

The driver pulled next to their vehicles and rolled down his window. He had a craggy face that had spent a lot of time in the sun. Dark eyes regarded them beneath black winged brows. He wore a cowboy hat pulled low over his ears. “Agent Gallagher?”

Leo stepped over. “I’m Gallagher. You’re Craig Sampson?”

“Yep, that’s me.” His gaze shifted to True. “He’s a handsome fellow.”

“Thanks.”

“I’ll put in and then you and your dog can come aboard.”

“My witness will show us where she saw the body go in.”

Craig glanced over at Alicia. “I don’t have room for the pretty lady and the officers.”

“They’ll stay on land. She was upriver fishing from shore, so she’ll lead the officers through the woods to the spot.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Craig rolled up the window and drove to the ramp, where he made a wide arc and then backed the boat into the water.

Leo turned to Alicia and the officers. “Ms. Duncan, I’ll need you to lead Officers Jenkins and Reynolds to where you and Charlie were fishing. We’ll head upstream with our diver and meet you there.”

“I can do that,” she said. She squared her shoulders. “This way, gentlemen.”

She strode away, forcing the two officers to hustle to keep up. Leo couldn’t stop the slight smile curving his lips. The woman may have been rattled and afraid earlier, but she was doing a bang-up job of pushing through to get the job done. He admired grit like that.

True started after Alicia. Leo whistled, bringing the dog to heel. “We’re taking to the water, boy.” He grabbed the necessary equipment from the back of the SUV and they headed to the boat ramp.

Once they were settled in the boat, True took his position standing at the bow, his official FBI K-9 life vest around his torso and Leo, with matching life vest, sitting on the middle transom. Craig fired up the boat. He’d pulled on a dry dive suit that covered him from head to toe, leaving only an oval for his face.

They puttered away from the marina and headed upstream. Anticipation and dread twisted in Leo’s chest. He didn’t want the body to be Esme Dupree. She’d witnessed her brother murdering one of his associates and had agreed to testify against him. And since the other Dupree sister, Violetta, who was clean as far as they could discover, had refused to cooperate, the FBI’s case against Reginald Dupree hinged on Esme’s testimony.

But whoever the poor woman was at the bottom of the river, her loved ones deserved justice for her murder.

They rounded a bend in the river, where the landscape on the right side of the river changed abruptly from wooded terrain to towering cliffs of sediment and stone. On the left side, the woods thinned and gave way to boulders that gradually rose to another steep cliff.

Leo shaded his eyes and scanned the shore, immediately spotting Alicia and the two officers standing on a smooth outcropping of rocks.

“Head over there,” Leo instructed Craig.

When they were within shouting distance of the rocks, Leo noticed fishing poles and a tackle box. This must have been where Alicia and her son had been when they’d seen the killer.

Alicia pointed upstream and yelled, “He came from that direction and stopped about three hundred and sixty feet straight out from here.” She gestured to the rocks beneath her feet.

“That’s helpful and gives us a place to start.” Leo stared, admiring the pretty lady. Her hair lifted slightly in the wind that had kicked up. Sunlight reflected in her piercing blue eyes. “You and the officers can head back to the station.” He didn’t want her here to see the body when they found the victim.

Alicia shook her head. “I want to make sure she’s found. Someone has to stand up for her.”

Respecting her decision, he saluted her then turned to Craig. “You heard the lady.”

Craig slowly turned the boat toward the middle of the river. True stood on the bow, his head up, gaze alert. Leo tuned in to the dog’s nuances the farther away from shore they traveled. He documented the time and distance from land on the notepad he carried. They circled the area where Alicia had pointed. True showed no signs of alerting.

“Head downstream,” Leo instructed Craig.

Since the body hadn’t been weighted down, it most likely had been swept along by the river’s current. Craig zigzagged the boat from one shore to the other, moving farther and farther away from the spot. Leo wondered if maybe the suspect had come back and removed the woman’s body. Frustration curled in his stomach.

Then True shifted. He licked his lips and shuffled his paws, clear signs he was picking up a scent. Leo’s pulse jumped. The dog’s tail went down as he craned his neck, dipping his nose toward the water. He pivoted, and then leaned over the starboard side. Keeping his snout at the surface of the water, True walked the length of the boat and stepped easily over the bench seat.

Anticipation revving through him, Leo gestured for Craig to make a slow turn. True retraced his steps, barking an alert. He scratched and nipped at the water. Knowing the animal had scent glands in the roof of his mouth, Leo interpreted these actions as the sign this was the spot.

“Good boy.” Leo grasped True’s life vest to keep the dog from jumping in.