The Pregnant Colton Witness. Geri Krotow
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ahead to the lake, Nash. We’ve got two units approaching the clinic.”
“How far out?”
“Three and four minutes.” Frank’s concern was audible. “Repeat, K9 officer is to go to the lake. Victim in the water.”
“I hear you. But I’m going into the clinic first if no other unit is there yet.” Nash was only a minute out, and seconds could mean the difference between life and death. He’d be damned if he let anyone harm Patience. He strained to see up the road, willing the clinic to appear.
“You’re right, Nash—we need you to go to the clinic first. We’ve now got a crazy man in the kennels, threatening Dr. Colton. She’s armed.”
“Copy that. Clinic first.” Like it was going to be anything else. A victim in the cold depths of the lake, even with his and Greta’s expert abilities, stood a slim chance of making it, if any. There was still hope for Patience.
Damn it. Why hadn’t he called her, reached out to her after their night together? If he got them through this, he’d make it up to her.
Greta whined in the back seat.
“It’s okay, gal. We’re going to get there.” Greta never made a sound unless reacting to her instinct that something was wrong. That made two of them. It was constant these days in Red Ridge, from the Groom Killer case to the incessant pace of drug crime.
The clinic buildings came into sight, and as they appeared on the horizon Nash expelled a harsh breath. He willed the vehicle to go faster, faster as he navigated the familiar road. The security lights were blazing, but no inside lights were visible. He also noted no sign of RRPD units, confirming Frank’s reported ETA for them, so Nash pulled around to the back, next to the fenced area for the dogs and K9 training.
Wasting no time, he got Greta out of the vehicle. With his weapon drawn, they ran for the building. Greta needed no orders, for they’d practiced and served together thousands of times. They were more than K9 partners; they were a team.
Nash went to let himself in through the secured fence, ready to punch in the code known only to himself as the lead K9 officer and Patience. His gut sank when he saw the broken gate, proof of forced entry. Together he and Greta ran to the clinic’s rear entrance, where he found shattered glass on the concrete doorstep, the door ajar. He signaled for Greta to jump over the sharp shards.
“Come on, Greta!” Employing the moves that were second nature to them, Nash and Greta went through a coordinated series of tactics that allowed him to ensure the way was clear, while she remained on alert for any unusual sounds or scents. Several of the windows that looked out onto the lake and lined the corridor had been smashed, but Nash noted that none of the animals in the kennels appeared to have been injured, and only a few were yipping or meowing in distress. The loudest of the bunch was Gabby, the bird Patience boarded so often she was becoming a familiar sight. What wasn’t usual was the huge red parrot’s screams that threatened to split his eardrums.
“Help, help!”
The parrot’s cries were downright spooky as he and Greta moved forward through the dark corridor. Patience. He had to get to Patience.
Patience grasped her .45 and aimed it at the office door. The thug continued to pound on it after firing once, and it was beginning to splinter around the handle. She stayed steady behind her desk, resting her arms atop it, ready to shoot. Mentally, she recalled all she’d learned at the firing range, and in various training scenarios the RRPD had put her through in the rare event she’d ever need to protect herself or the K9s. She’d never expected someone to break into the clinic to come after her, though. To steal the valuable K9 dogs, sure, or to score prescription painkillers for street sales—specific crimes the clinic was at risk for. But to have a murderer break in and come after her? Not expected.
Adrenaline surged as she prepared to shoot, but she maintained her steady focus on the door, visualizing the shape of the man she’d take down.
And then...nothing. Footsteps running away. Sharp barks, more footsteps.
“Patience, Nash Maddox is on scene with Greta.” Her phone, on speaker, barked into the quiet office.
“You mean at the lake.” Despite the silence she remained ready to shoot. Her mind heard Frank’s calm explanation, but her nerves weren’t ready to stand down.
“No, he’s come to ensure your safety and apprehend the assailant.” Sirens reached her ears. “Stay put as he clears the front reception area.”
“Okay.” She heard Nash’s deep voice echo through the halls, heard Greta’s bark as the K9 team secured the clinic.
“RRPD is on-site, Patience.” Frank’s relief was evident. “Nash and Greta chased off the suspect, turned over security to the other RRPD units and are headed to your office now.”
“Thanks, Frank.” She let out a shaky breath, but still couldn’t let go of her weapon. What if the man had circled around back?
A knock sounded on the damaged door, followed by a deep bark—Greta’s.
“Patience, are you there? It’s Nash.” Greta’s second bark let her know the huge Newfoundland wanted to declare she was there, too.
Slowly, Patience unfolded from behind the desk. “Nash is at the door, Frank.”
“Affirmative. You can let him in, Patience. Repeat, he’s chased off the intruder and our units are on-site.”
“Patience?” Nash’s voice reflected concern, even muffled by the door.
“I’m here.” She unlocked the door and opened it, and was immediately engulfed by Nash in a bear hug. His arms pressed her to him, his solid, hard body the most comfortable thing she’d ever felt. Patience melted against him and let herself receive his warmth.
“Thank God you’re okay.” He placed his free hand, the one not holding his Glock, on her shoulder, and his eyes blazed with intent as he looked at her. “Are you? Okay?”
“I am. It was...” In a totally uncharacteristic move, tears fell from her burning eyes and she fought to speak. “I’m sorry. This isn’t like me.”
“It’s just the shock. I’ve had to fight tears on ops before, too.” He wiped one cheek with his thumb, then the other. She relished the rough, calloused slide of his skin against hers. It grounded her, allowed her to stop gulping for air.
“Thanks, Nash. You’re right. It’s shock, I guess.”
“And some adrenaline.” He dropped his arm and looked her over. “Did you hit anything while you were diving under the desk?”
“No, really, I’m fine.” She rubbed both eyes with the heel of her hand, and realized that she, too, still gripped her weapon. “Except I didn’t know I was still holding this.” She engaged the safety and placed it on her desk. “I think I used everything I ever learned in our practice drills over the last twenty minutes.”
“You probably did. And you handled it perfectly, from what I can see.” As she looked into his eyes she saw his conviction, and it chased away the dark cloud of anxiety that the killer had left in his wake.
“Where is he now?” Quakes of relief started to move through her. She’d done it. Nash had helped. The killer was gone.
“Hopefully, in custody. He took off toward the mountains. The RRPD will get him.” Nash sounded certain, but she wasn’t so sure.
“A man who’s so cold-blooded as to...to dump a body in the lake like that?” She shook her head. “He’s not going to get caught. Not this easily. I’ll bet he has a getaway car stashed nearby.”
Nash put his hand on her