Rookie K-9 Unit Christmas: Surviving Christmas. Lenora Worth
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been fidgeting. Now she spoke up. “Why Angel? I mean, she’s lovable and partially trained in several disciplines, but she’s also terribly headstrong and easily distracted.”
“Exactly why she needs a strong, forceful, determined man as her partner,” Ellen replied. “Mr. Murphy is right about not being as badly affected as many of our clients, so why not let him give Angel a try? It’s that or wash her out of all our programs.”
Watching his old friend’s expression, Sean could tell she was mulling over the suggestion. A misfit dog for a misfit soldier. What could be better?
Zoe finally nodded. “Okay. How can I help?”
“We’ll do introductions first thing in the morning. Bring everybody involved to the training center with you but don’t wear your uniform. We want that meeting to be as casual as possible so we can judge Angel’s reactions. If she passes that test, we’ll make up a training schedule.”
The women stood, as did Sean. “Thank you, both,” he said.
Sophie nodded and shook Sean’s hand, then paused and looked to Zoe. “By the way, what was the disturbance at the market all about? I understand from Ryder that a threat may have followed Mr. Murphy to Desert Valley, after all.”
Sean knew she was referring to the chief of police, Ryder Hayes, the same person who had sent for the report about his break-in back in St. Louis.
“It started when I thought I saw somebody who had caused me trouble in St. Louis,” Sean explained. “It turned out they were driving a stolen truck and ditched it right before somebody took a potshot at Zoe’s car.”
Ellen nodded. “I heard we tried using James Harrison’s bloodhound, but he lost their trail. Do you think the incidents were connected?”
“I’m sure beginning to,” Zoe said. “Freya reacted to one of the guys when we were all in the store.”
Sophie nodded. “We’ll all need to be on alert. See you tomorrow morning at eight.”
Sean hung back as Zoe walked her friends to the door. Patrick had curled up on the sofa with Freya. The dog opened one eye, studied him for a second, then closed it, sighed and relaxed. If the new dog he was about to meet was half the canine companion Freya was, he’d be more than satisfied.
It suddenly struck him that canine senses were going to be the answer. If he felt threatened and the dog did not, then he’d know his imagination was in charge. If, however, the dog reacted as well, he could begin to trust his own senses. To trust himself.
What might it be like to actually lighten up and enjoy life again? Considering the way he’d been feeling, the concept sounded both enticing and out of reach.
Sean shivered, remembering the words of his attackers. They had been sent to kill him. That was all there was to it. If they were here, in Desert Valley, there was no way he’d ever be able to let down his guard. Not if he expected to live long enough to raise his child.
* * *
Zoe took a brief phone call later in the evening. She’d watched the tension building on her friend’s face as she’d listened, so the first thing she did was set Sean’s mind at ease. “That was Chief Hayes.”
“What now?”
“Good news, actually,” she said, smiling. “They were able to get usable prints off that stolen red truck. They belonged to local kids who have been in trouble here before, not hit men from St. Louis.”
“They’re sure?”
“Positive.”
“But, the guy we saw in the parking lot was no kid.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. In any case, they’re also running a partial palm print through the AFIS database to see if there are any matches.”
It pained her to see some of the starch go out of Sean’s spine. “You can’t convince me it’s all in my head, so don’t even try.”
“That’s not what I meant. We didn’t find any shell casings today, but the bullet in your apartment ceiling was plenty real.”
“True. I wish I had a better idea of who has it in for me. I haven’t been home long enough to have made new enemies, so it has to be somebody from my past.”
“Or Sandra’s,” Zoe said. “Did you pick up any of her stuff from her parents?”
“Nothing except clothes for Patrick and a few toys.”
“Could she have hidden drugs in those?”
“If she did, the proof is back in my old apartment. I left too fast to take much with me.”
“I could have Chief Hayes contact the St. Louis department and suggest they do a thorough search. The problem is, if they do turn up illicit drugs, it will look as if you were hiding them.”
“I hadn’t thought of that.”
Zoe shrugged. “At this time it’s a moot point. Anybody who thought you were hiding drugs has probably already ransacked the place. You can check when you’re done training here and then involve the police if you need to after Christmas. In the meantime I’ll be keeping careful watch, just in case. So will my colleagues.”
“Mentioning Christmas reminds me,” Sean said. “I can understand why you haven’t put up holiday decorations, but would you mind if I did a few things for Patrick?”
She clapped her hands. “I’d love it! I wasn’t even considering Christmas when I left Mesa in September.”
“Do you know where we can get a tree?”
“I do. The church youth are having a sale. And rehearsals are starting for the outdoor Christmas pageant, too. We can get Patrick involved in that when we go to church on Sunday.”
The off-putting look on his face was disappointing. “We don’t go to church.”
She made a face. “Why not? You used to.”
“Things change. People change.” He lowered his voice to add, “I’ve changed.”
“Fine. God hasn’t. And whether you admit it or not, your little boy needs to learn about faith. If you won’t go with us, Freya and I will take him.”
“I could stop you.”
“You could try.” Although she no longer wore her holster or uniform, she struck a dominant pose, feet apart, hands fisted on the hips of her jeans, shoulders back. Yes, she was being pushy. And, yes, Patrick was Sean’s responsibility. But she cared so much for both of them it was hard to stand back when she thought there was something she could do or say that would help.
“You’re actually serious.” Sean was frowning.
“You’re right. I am.”
“Okay, I’ll think about it.”
“You do that. And while you do, I’ll be praying that you come to your senses.”
“Why do you think faith makes sense?”
Zoe began to smile. “The very definition of faith is belief without seeing. You had it once.” She jabbed a finger at his chest. “It’s still in there. All you have to do is look.”
“I have,” Sean argued.
She wasn’t about to back down. Not when she was convinced he needed his former faith in order to complete his healing. “If I could loan you some of mine I would, but it’s an inside job. You can’t borrow it or catch it like a cold. You have to seek the Lord yourself.”
“God gave up on me long ago,” Sean said flatly.
Zoe couldn’t help smiling. Instead of continuing to argue, she merely said, “Then you might want to ask how you got here and why you escaped death when the bomb went off on your way to the airport and