Protection Detail. Shirlee McCoy
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time to get away? I’d rather help hunt him down.”
“Your time would be better spent giving us a good description,” Paul said.
“I’ll take Glory out after we get you back inside,” Gavin cut in.
“I’m fine,” she insisted, stepping to the edge of the porch and pointing to the east. “That’s the direction I ran. He wasn’t far behind me. Your dog can probably—”
“Cassie,” he interrupted. “I appreciate your help, but the guy could still be hanging out in the woods. If he’s the same guy who shot Michael and Harland, he has a gun. It wouldn’t be that hard for him to take a potshot from those trees.”
“If you’re trying to scare me,” she said. “You’ve succeeded.”
“All I’m trying to do is—”
“Keep me safe?” She walked inside, moving deeper into the kitchen.
He followed, wanting to remind her a dozen times that she was in danger and that she needed to play by his rules. She knew it, though. There was no sense beating her over the head with it. “Yes.”
“Thanks.” Cassie shivered, dropping into one of the kitchen chairs. The bruise on her cheek looked darker, her oversize pink sweater and bare feet making her look young and vulnerable. “But, I’m pretty good at keeping myself safe.” She brushed a hand over her hair, frowned as she pulled a few leaves out of the wild curls.
“Not from this kind of creep,” Paul said as he stepped inside. “You saw him. He’s going to want to take you out. You’re going to need more than yourself to stay safe.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” she responded, tapping her fingers on the table. She had short nails. No polish. It looked as though she’d gotten a couple of cuts and scrapes climbing out of Glory’s reach. Gavin was tempted to tell her she should wash the wounds out, put some bandages on.
“Can you give me a description of the perp?” he asked instead. He needed to get out into the woods, see if he and Glory could track the guy.
“Blond, short hair. Kind of a military cut. Not very tall. Lots of muscle, though.” She shivered and Gavin shrugged out of his jacket and dropped it around her shoulders.
“I think you’re going to need this more than I do,” she said, but she made no move to remove it. Just scratched at a spot on the tabletop, her brow furrowed. “He was wearing black. Pants. Shirt. I’m not sure about his shoes.”
“Eye color?” Paul interrupted.
“Blue. And his face...” She shook her head. “He looked dead inside.”
Glory shifted, the movement subtle, her head turning toward the still-open door. Beyond it, Gavin could see the porch, the yard, a glimpse of the woods beyond.
Glory sniffed at the air, the fur on her scruff standing on end. She growled, the deep low grumbling making the room go silent.
“She see something?” Paul asked.
“Looks like it.” He walked to the open door, scanned the tree line at the far edge of the property. As far as he could see, there was nothing lurking in the thick shadows there. He trusted Glory, though. The dog had good instincts, a great nose, and eyes that were a hundred times better than Gavin’s.
“Better close the door after I leave and keep Cassie away from the windows,” he said as he walked outside.
He waited just long enough to hear the bolt slide home before he gave Glory the command she’d been waiting for. The shepherd sprang into action, lunging off the porch and racing toward the tree line, Gavin sprinting behind her.
Gavin pulled Glory to a stop at the edge of the woods, the beam of his flashlight bobbing along dry earth. Dark trees jutted up from ground covered with a winter’s worth of dead leaves. A half mile in, a small tributary meandered through the thick forest. Usually, the Royal River was nothing more than a creek that flowed across the congressman’s land. The winter had been brutal, though, and melting snow had probably turned it into a rapidly flowing stream.
“Hopefully, our guy didn’t have a raft or boat with him,” he muttered. “If he did, we may lose the trail there.”
Glory’s ears perked up, but she kept her head down, nose snuffling dead leaves and earth.
She’d pick up the scent again. Gavin trusted her to do that as much as he trusted the German shepherd to do the job she’d been trained for. Not search and rescue. Protection. Together, they’d been assigned more than one case that involved protecting high-level political figures.
Tonight, they hadn’t been able to protect Michael and Harland. They would find the gunman, though, and they’d protect Cassie and her kids. There was no other option. “Gavin!” someone called.
Gavin turned, caught sight of Chase Zachary hurrying toward him. Chase hadn’t been working with the Capitol K-9 Unit for long, but there was no doubt he belonged. A former Secret Service agent, he worked hard and knew the ropes. His Belgian Malinois Valor knew them, too. The dog moved beside Chase, ears alert, body tense.
“Glad you’re here. There’s been an incident at All Our Kids,” Gavin said, turning his attention back to Glory, who’d found the trail again and was moving through thick foliage and deeper into the trees.
“I heard the call come in while I was on the road searching for your perp. Adam and Brooke are still at the crime scene working with the DC police.”
That was fine with Gavin. Adam Donovan and Brooke Clark would keep things flowing smoothly. Veteran members of the K-9 Unit Team, they’d have no trouble cooperating with the police.
“Good. Any sign of a vehicle on the road?”
“No vehicle. No perp. There is something, though. It was found at the crime scene.”
That caught Gavin’s attention, made his pulse jump. “What?”
“I saw a gold pendant about fifty feet away from where Michael’s body was discovered. It looked like it had been kicked under some leaves. The thing was clean as a whistle. No dirt embedded in it. Nothing to indicate it had been lying there for any length of time.”
“There’s more to it than that, right?” Because Gavin knew Chase. The guy was clear thinking and had spot-on instincts. No way would he have come looking for Gavin if there wasn’t something compelling about the find. “I know who the pendant belongs to.”
There it was.
The missing piece to the puzzle.
Gavin met Chase’s eyes. “Who?”
“Michael’s girlfriend.”
“Erin Eagleton? You’re sure about that?” Gavin pushed through a thick stand of evergreens, the loamy scent of damp earth filling his nose. Glory was ten feet ahead, working the trail, her head down, tail up, ears alert. She’d found what she wanted, and she was going to keep chasing it until it led to the prize.
“Would I be telling you if I wasn’t? It’s an unusual pendant. A starfish with the initials E.E. engraved in it.”
“There are plenty of people in this world with those initials.”
“How many of them are dating a guy who just turned up dead?”
“We can’t make assumptions, Chase. You know that. We can look for DNA on the locket, we can ask Erin if it belongs to her—”
“It’s hers.”
He sounded certain, so certain that Gavin wondered just exactly how he could know what kind of pendant a socialite like Erin would have hanging from her neck. She came from money and privilege and, as far as Gavin knew, didn’t hang in the same circles as Chase.