Scent Of Danger. Terri Reed

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Scent Of Danger - Terri Reed


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linoleum and bouncing off the walls of the hallway.

      Ignoring the pain pounding in her head, Melody pushed away from the wall. For a moment, her off-balance equilibrium sent the world spinning.

      The exit door at the end of the hall banged shut. She grimaced. He was escaping.

      Forcing herself to move, Melody chased after the intruder. As founder and co-director of the youth center, she’d come in this morning expecting to get a little work done before heading to the police station to start her shift. She hadn’t been prepared for a smackdown and footrace.

      The blood surging through her brought the world into a sharp focus she didn’t experience anywhere else in her life except on the job. It had been a while since she’d had to chase a perp. And never from the youth center.

      This place was supposed to be safe, for the kids who sought help and for the volunteers who ran the center.

      Out on the sidewalk, she searched for the trespasser. Sagebrush Boulevard was empty. There was no sign of a person dressed in black. At seven in the morning on a Tuesday, Sagebrush, Texas, was barely coming to life.

      At the end of town, the spire of the white community church gleamed in the early morning May sunlight, like a beacon of hope. A stark contrast to the dark figure who’d assaulted her. She sent up a silent prayer of protection, for herself, for the youth center and for the citizens of Sagebrush.

      A cynical voice in her head taunted, Would God

      listen?

      As much as she hated to admit it, she didn’t know. He certainly hadn’t listened to her pleas when her marriage fell apart and her ex-husband abandoned her to go “find himself.”

      Holstering her weapon and pulling her tailored jacket closed, she retraced her steps and entered Sagebrush Youth Center’s single-story brick building.

      She stopped in her office doorway surveying the scene. Irritation raced through her. The place had been ransacked. The filing cabinet had been emptied, the files strewn all over. The pictures of her family had been knocked off the desk.

      Her heart squeezed tight at the sight of her sister’s face smiling up at her from one of the images. Her arm was slung over her then twelve-year-old son’s shoulders. A time when they’d been happy. Alive.

      Forcing back the sadness, she continued her perusal. Books ranging from popular fiction to nonfiction teenage psychology had been pulled down from the shelves and lay haphazardly on the floor. The open desk drawers appeared to have been rifled through.

      A cardboard box lay toppled upside down, the contents spilling out. Her nephew’s name was written across the side in big bold letters. She didn’t need a paper inventory of the box. She had the contents memorized. The files full of witness testimonies, and Daniel’s effects at the time of his death had been in that box. All that was left of a life cut too short.

      A sense of violation cramped her chest. She was used to investigating this sort of vandalism, not being the victim herself.

      She was no one’s victim. Her fist clenched.

      She would find the person who broke in, and discover what they’d wanted. She tapped her foot, impatient to get in there and see what had been taken.

      But protocol had to be followed.

      Yanking her cell phone out of the backpack-style purse she always carried, she dialed the Sagebrush police dispatch non-emergency number.

      “Sagebrush Police Department.” Cathy Rodriquez, the day dispatch operator answered in her no-nonsense tone.

      “Cathy, it’s Detective Zachary. I need a crime-scene unit at the youth center. My office has been broken into.”

      “Were you hurt, Melody?”

      “I’m fine.” She wouldn’t mention the throbbing headache. The last thing she needed was to be coddled. She’d find some pain reliever in the nurse’s station once things settled down. “I surprised the intruder, but he got away.”

      “I’ll let the higher ups know what’s going on.”

      “Thanks, I appreciate it.” Melody hung up and leaned against the doorjamb. Despite the doubts that at times tried to rob her of faith, she sent up a silent prayer of thanksgiving that the intruder hadn’t been armed. This scene could have gone down very differently.

      The sound of footsteps sent a fresh wave of adrenaline pumping through her veins. She whipped around, her hand going to her weapon.

      “Melody?”

      At the sight of her volunteer co-director and fellow Sagebrush police officer coming toward her, she let out a tense breath. Jim Wheaton always wore the navy blue Sagebrush Police Department uniform, claiming the visual reminder of authority helped keep the kids in line.

      Nearing fifty and single, Jim spent more time at the center, whether he was on duty or off, than any other volunteer. He claimed it was because he didn’t trust the teens not to cause trouble, but Melody suspected he liked the company even if he wouldn’t admit it.

      “You’re here early again today,” he said, coming to a halt a few paces away.

      She usually stopped by Arianna’s Diner for a pastry and cup of coffee before heading to the station, but ever since her nephew’s grave had been desecrated last month, she hadn’t had much of an appetite. Keeping herself occupied gave her less time to think.

      Besides, the diner was closed now that the owner, Arianna Munson, had been killed after being linked to the crime lord, known only by the police as The Boss.

      For the past several years, a crime wave had terrorized the citizens of Sagebrush. The mastermind behind the crime syndicate was a faceless, nameless entity that even the thugs who worked for The Boss feared.

      This man was at the top of the police department’s most-wanted list. Especially after the crime syndicate kidnapped Rio, the three-year-old German shepherd partner of the K-9 unit’s captain. The whole department was on high alert looking for the canine.

      She could have used a dog like Rio today. Maybe she should look into getting a K-9 partner for the center. A nice big dog with sharp teeth. “Hey, Jim. I interrupted someone breaking into my office. They made a mess of things.”

      His gray eyes clouded with concern. “You okay?”

      “Just a bruised ego.” And a knock to the noggin. Nothing she couldn’t handle.

      “Let me see.” He tried to push past her.

      Her arm shot out and blocked him from entering. “I’m waiting for the CSU team.”

      He scowled. “It was probably a kid looking for some loose change.”

      Melody shook her head. “Guy was too big, too strong to be a teen.”

      “You get a look at his face?”

      “I didn’t.”

      The center’s front door opened. A small dog with his black nose pressed to the ground entered. Melody recognized the beagle as Sherlock, part of the K-9 unit. He wore a vest with the Sagebrush Police Department emblem over his light brown and white coat. A harness attached to a leash led to the handsome man at the other end. Melody blinked.

      What were Narcotics Detective Parker Adams and his K-9 partner doing here?

      The dog was adorable with his floppy ears and big round eyes.

      Much like his handler.

      She didn’t know the narcotics detective well. She worked for the homicide division, mostly cold cases, while he was part of the Sagebrush’s elite K-9 unit. Their paths hadn’t crossed much, though she’d noticed him at the police station.

      Hard not to take notice when he filled out his uniform nicely with broad shoulders and trim waist. She liked the way he wore his dark hair swept back from his forehead and his warm brown eyes appeared kind whenever


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