The Military K-9 Unit Collection. Valerie Hansen
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to check your apartment before you go inside.”
“Why? Your evidence people were still here when I left for work and probably stayed most of the time I was gone.”
“Most of the time isn’t good enough. I’ll go in first, do a walk-through, then give you the all clear.”
She shuddered, thinking of the way her home had looked the last time she’d seen it. “I hope they took away everything that was soiled. I mean, I’d hate to go back up there and find the same awful red mess I left behind—even if it is fake.”
“Tell you what,” Linc said. “If there are places that need TLC, I’ll take care of those while you change. We can leave the hall door open so we don’t start any rumors.”
She was touched. And wryly amused. “After everything that’s happened to me lately, I imagine my reputation is already trashed. Thanks for trying to protect me from gossip, but I’m less afraid of that than I am of finding another attacker lying in wait. You are more than welcome to inspect the apartment and wait there with me, whether my front door is open or closed.”
“Thank you,” Linc said.
“I’m serious. I trust you implicitly.” Zoe realized she meant that from the bottom of her heart. There might be nobody else she could truly count on except Linc Colson. But that was enough. He was enough.
Watching him don his official blue beret as he circled the vehicle to open her door, she had to fight to keep from once again enumerating his many virtues. This was a good, good man. An admirable member of the Security Forces that kept the base safe. Not only could he be relied upon in a crisis, his presence gave comfort when all was in chaos.
Zoe clasped the hand he offered and carefully climbed down from the truck. His touch was warm, steady, welcome. It seemed as natural as breathing to slip her fingers between his. It was a pity that this kind of supportive contact would cease once Linc’s assignment was over.
Given that nebulous peek into the future, she decided to make the most of these brief moments of closeness. He never needed to know how special he was becoming to her, nor did she intend for their camaraderie to blossom into something more, something deeper. She’d been married once. That was enough. God had rescued her in the nick of time or she might have ended up blamed for John’s illegal transfer of classified data simply because she was his wife.
Thoughts of marriage melded with images of the strong man walking beside her and she nearly panicked. She gently slipped her hand from his.
It wasn’t a lack of interest that caused her to withdraw. On the contrary. She’d broken their physical bond because she did care for him. Far, far too much.
* * *
The steps leading to the second-story apartment looked clean to Linc. What they’d find when Zoe opened her door was what worried him. Even if the evidence techs had gathered up all the throw rugs, there were likely to be signs left behind. How involved the cleanup would be depended on how much Zoe had tracked through the rooms while she’d waited for the authorities.
His jaw clenched as he turned the knob. The door was locked. “Do you have your key?”
“Yes.” She produced it from a small handbag tucked inside her briefcase. “Do I have to wait out here, or can I follow you in like before and see what’s what?”
“You can come. Just hang back and let me clear all the rooms before you get too curious.”
“Yes, Sergeant.”
“You may as well call me Linc,” he said, stepping over a tacky partial footprint on the hardwood floor. “Where do you keep your cleaning supplies?”
“You—you don’t have to mop this up.” She was speaking to his broad back as he walked away.
“Do you want Freddy to come home to it?” Linc called from the direction of the bedrooms.
“Of course not.”
Linc returned and said, “Then stop arguing and get me some rags, at least. Your room is actually the cleanest of all. I guess they took everything from in there as evidence. It’s the hallway and this floor out here that caught the worst of the footprints.”
“Do we need bleach, too?” Zoe asked.
“That would probably help lighten the red food coloring if it left stains, but the syrup should wipe up easily. I’m truly sorry this happened to you, Zoe.”
“Yeah. Me, too.”
Linc’s gut twisted as he recalled his first impression of her when he’d seen her in her doorway that morning. The sight had stolen his breath and left him temporarily stunned. That was another reason why he hadn’t immediately pursued Star. Concern that Zoe was injured had kept him with her. Wrong or right, it had happened, and Linc wondered if his commanding officers suspected the fault in judgment.
Someday he would have to admit what had been behind his mistake. Hopefully, nobody would ask him to explain further. If they did, he was going to have to admit that his personal feelings had got in the way of doing his job at a most critical moment.
That was bad. Really bad. If it happened again and was reported, he could lose a stripe. Or, worse, he could lose his coveted position as a handler.
Linc sighed. Star—his Star—would be given to someone else.
* * *
Zoe took the time to spruce up the bathroom where she had showered earlier, careful to leave no trace of red. By the time she donned jeans and a T-shirt and returned to the living room, there was nothing left to mar that scene, either. She smiled at Linc. “Good job. Thanks.”
“You’re welcome. Ready to roll?”
“I guess so. I’ll take my cell in case Maisy Lockwood calls from her preschool and day care. She’s a wonderful teacher, but Freddy sometimes begs to come home early and I have to reason with him on the phone.”
“You’d think he’d be adjusted by now. How long has he been going to that place?”
“Most of his life. It’s not that. It’s the rumors flying around. Even the littlest kids pick things up from parents or other caregivers. With Boyd, the talk of the base, I think Freddy’s overheard plenty and he’s afraid for me.”
“He’s not the only one,” Linc said. “We’ll go over your list of possible suspects again when we break for lunch.”
“Okay. Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure.”
“Are you going to get in trouble for taking me with you?”
“I don’t see a problem.” Linc eyed her up and down, bringing a new warmth to Zoe’s cheeks. “Dressed like that and with your hair down, nobody who doesn’t already know you is going to suspect you’re Boyd Sullivan’s sister.”
She smoothed the powder blue shirt over her jeans and turned in a circle. “You think? I figured since I wasn’t on duty, this would do.”
“Nicely.”
Zoe caught the hint of a blush on his face, too. They were acting more like lovesick teenagers than responsible adults, weren’t they? “I can change if you want. Maybe put on an ABU?”
“Nope. No camo. You’re fine like you are.” He led the way to the exit, and Zoe could have sworn she heard him mutter, “Very fine,” before he opened the door and stepped out into the hall.
After that, there was no way she could suppress a grin and the incongruity struck her as ironic. Here she was, the sister of an escaped serial killer, the object of some madman who was bent on trying to drive her crazy, relieved of duty and under the thumb of Security Forces, who had blamed her for crimes that had no connection to her normally placid life. So why was she feeling almost elated?
Because Linc had promised to keep her by