months, she thought.
Less than four months ago, she’d finished the twelve-week training session at the Canyon County K-9 Training Center. The state of Arizona had started the program years ago and found it quite successful. They trained new police academy recruits to be K-9 officers. She was a newbie, a rookie officer with the Desert Valley Police Department.
And now she might have to shoot someone.
The thought wanted to paralyze her, but her training kicked in and she knew she could do what she had to in order to protect herself and Lee.
The car roared up beside them and she got a brief glance at the driver and the gun he had pointed at her. Lee stomped the brakes, throwing her against the seat belt. She jerked forward then back, her head slamming into the headrest, her hand against the door. She lost her grip on the weapon and it clattered to the floor. The next shot took off the passenger-side mirror of the truck. Another hit a tire. Lee fought with the wheel and the truck listed to the side, but that didn’t stop him.
He spun the wheel to the right and they roared onto a side road. The other vehicle swept past. Lee hit the brakes again and backed up, the truck lurching, the rim of the flattened tire grinding. But he managed to complete his three-point turn so that the front of his truck now faced the road. She watched the disappearing taillights of the other car.
As soon as Lee put the truck in Park, Ellen rolled out of the passenger door, grabbed her weapon from the floor and aimed in the direction the other car had gone. “Lee, are you okay? Come out the passenger door.”
“I’m fine.” He landed on the ground beside her, kneeling behind the protection of the open door. He radiated tension. “I’m going to check on the dogs.”
Ellen registered the barking. “I’m calling for backup.” She grabbed the radio from her hip and put in the call. When Dispatch answered, she rattled off the information. She glanced at Lee who was also watching the road. “Anything?”
“No, not yet.”
“Help is on the way.”
She maintained her vigilance even as her mind searched for answers. Who would want to attack her and Lee? Probably the same people behind the other trouble the police department and her fellow K-9 officers had faced since being assigned to solve Veronica Earnshaw’s murder. Then again, Lee had just been released from prison. Could it be someone after him?
The drone of an engine caught her attention and all speculation fled. She heard it coming closer as Lee pulled the two crates from the backseat of the king cab one after the other and set them on the ground by the blown tire. He handled the heavy cargo as though it weighed nothing, but she knew the two six-month-old pups weighed about fifty pounds each. “I hear something. Are they coming back?”
“Sounds like it.” She raised her gun and aimed it. When the car crested the hill, she knew they were in for a second attack. “That’s them.” The dark gray Buick slowed; the barrel of a rifle appeared in the window. She figured it was now or never and tightened her finger, heard her weapon bark, felt the kick against her hand.
The sedan’s front windshield exploded. The driver hit the gas and the vehicle blew past in a drunken weave. Ellen spun from her position and moved to the back of the truck near the crated, yapping puppies. This time the car didn’t turn around—and she got a partial plate. “Oh-four,” she whispered. “I didn’t get the rest of it. But I got 04.”
She turned to find Lee hovering over the puppies, his features tense, face pale. “Are you all right?” he asked.
“Yeah. You?”
He nodded. “The puppies are fine, too.”
Ellen pulled her phone from the clip on her belt. “I’m going to find out where backup is. Keep an eye out for them to come back while I’m on the phone, will you?” Not only did they need a tow truck for Lee’s vehicle, they needed a ride back to town and a Be On the Lookout—a BOLO—put out for the gray sedan.
“Of course.” He looked distracted. Thoughtful. His brows pulled together over the bridge of his nose as if he knew something and was pondering it.
“What is it?” she asked.
His eyes flicked to hers then he shook his head. “Nothing.”
The dispatcher came on the line. “Where’s my backup?”
“On the way, Ellen. They should be there within minutes.”
“Tell them to be looking for a dark gray sedan—a Buick—with 04 in the license plate.”
“Copy that.”
Ellen hung up and paced behind the protection of Lee’s truck while she watched the road and thought about what had just happened. “Did you tell anyone about us going to pick up the puppies?” she asked.
Lee frowned. “No. But it’s not because I thought it was some top secret mission—it’s just that I don’t talk to too many people.”
Ellen heard the bitterness behind the words. Being imprisoned for two years for a crime one didn’t commit could do that to a person. She also knew that people in Desert Valley, Arizona, had long memories and weren’t very forgiving. Never mind that the man before her had been set up by a corrupt cop.
When she’d heard Lee had been arrested for robbery, she’d been stunned. Then disbelief had set in. But the evidence had been overwhelming. Now she knew why. It was easy to frame someone when the investigating officer planted evidence. Disgust curled inside her. She had nothing but contempt for those who used their power to hurt others, to fulfill some kind of personal agenda.
Sirens broke the silence and she straightened, her eyes once again going to the place where the gray sedan had disappeared. Some of her adrenaline eased now that she felt sure they weren’t coming back.
Chief of police Earl Jones stepped from his cruiser. Seventy years old, he topped six feet two inches and carried himself well in spite of his large gut. His gray hair looked mussed, as though he’d run his hands through it several times. His gaze landed on Ellen then slid over to Lee. “Not out of prison two weeks and you’re already causing trouble? Not a good way to start your new life.”
* * *
Lee nearly bit through his tongue to keep the words he’d like to fling at the man from making their way past his teeth. He simply stared at the chief. He wouldn’t defend himself. He didn’t have to. The fact that he stood here a free man was defense enough as far as he was concerned. Chief Jones raised a brow, a glint of respect lighting his eyes before he hitched his britches and held out a hand to Lee. “You got a raw deal. I’m glad it all worked out for you.”
Lee blinked and swallowed his anger. He shook the man’s hand. “Thanks. I am, too.”
The chief looked at Ellen. “What’s going on here, Foxcroft?”
Ellen’s gaze darted between the two them. Lee maintained his cool stance. Deputy Louise Donaldson exited her cruiser and joined them on the side of the road. The woman was in her early sixties and, if Lee remembered correctly, had been widowed at a rather young age.
She was tall and solid, her hair cut in a no-nonsense brown bob. Her dark eyes were serious and concerned. He also knew she planned to retire soon. In fact he wondered who would retire first, the chief or Louise. And why he was even thinking about that confused him. He attributed it to some kind of coping mechanism. If he thought about the mundane, he didn’t have to think about the fact that he and Ellen could have been killed a short few moments ago.
“We were shot at,” Ellen was saying. “I think there were two of them in the vehicle. They drove a dark gray Buick and I got a partial plate.” She gave it to him. “They’ve also got a busted windshield.”
“I’ll call for a tow truck,” Louise said. She got on her phone and Earl rubbed a hand over his craggy face.
“All right, let’s get you two back to town and get this figured