livid. And more afraid than he dared let on. “I told her to watch herself out there. Who called it in?”
“Sophie was the first. She said she was ready to return fire but never did get a bead on the shooter.”
“Description?”
The dispatcher shook her head. “Some callers said it was a man and some said a woman.”
Ryder rounded on the pack of rookies who had been made his temporary deputies. “Let this be a lesson to all of you. Never let your guard down. Now get your dogs and gear and let’s roll.” He pointed to the bloodhound’s handler, James Harrison. “Especially you and Hawk. I want evidence.”
“Yes, sir.”
The chief glanced over at the whiteboard as he prepared to leave the police station. It was all there. Every victim’s photo, including that of his late wife, Melanie. It didn’t matter how much it hurt him to keep seeing her picture, it had to stay posted. She was an integral part of Carrie’s crime spree; the beginning, the key, for the simple fact she happened to be married to him.
Ryder tore himself away and raced for his car. Enough people had already died at the hands of the madwoman who wanted him, or his blond look-alikes, to fulfill her distorted sense of romantic destiny. It must stop now. They were not going to lose one more life. Not on his watch.
Sirens howling and lights flashing, he and the others pulled out onto Desert Valley Road. Ryder floored the accelerator. Multiple incoming reports had not mentioned any victims, but he needed to see for himself. Sophie Williams might be hardheaded but she was a great dog trainer. He’d hate to lose her.
Was that the only reason his pulse was pounding? he asked himself. Probably not. It was true that all his deputies and the staff at the training center were special to him, yet he and Sophie had occasionally seemed to connect on a deeper level. Which was another strong reason for him to keep his distance. If Carrie imagined that he and Sophie were even good friends it might be enough to put the innocent trainer in the crosshairs. Which was exactly where she had ended up today.
Ryder’s pulse jumped as he skidded to a stop outside the Tudor-style depot. There she was! Sophie was not only on her feet, she was pointing and apparently giving directions to other arriving officers.
Ryder hit the ground running. “Keep your head down.”
“The shooter’s long gone,” she called back.
He stopped beside her, on high alert despite her assurances. “You okay?”
“Yeah. I hate to think what might have happened if I hadn’t bent over when I did.”
Ryder’s jaw clenched. He started to grab her arm, then stopped himself. “Get in the car and fill me in.”
“It’s too hot for that.”
“I’m running the auxiliary air in my unit. Come on.”
“Titus is with you?”
“No. I left him in my office.” When Sophie didn’t move quickly he scowled. “Well?”
“Just a second. I need to coax Phoenix to come with us on his own. I don’t want to muscle him into obedience.”
A mottled, grayish muzzle poked from beneath the damaged SUV as Sophie spoke softly and reached out. Ryder didn’t know what to say. If that sorry excuse for a K-9 cop was supposed to be his new partner, the obstinate trainer had better rethink her plans. No way was he going to accept a trembling basket case in place of a heroic partner like Titus.
The new dog slunk over to Sophie and pressed against her lower legs as she straightened. “This is Phoenix.”
“Um...”
“He’ll come around. He’s already better than he was when he arrived. I had a courier bring him so he wouldn’t be frightened by being treated like freight.”
“I don’t think it helped,” Ryder said flatly. “If he crouched any lower he’d be crawling on his belly like a commando.”
“Trust me.” Sophie gave him a slight smile. “I really believe you and this dog will work out together. He needs a strong, seasoned handler like you, and you need a replacement partner.”
“I need a good partner, emphasis on good.”
“He will be. You know we don’t have the funds right now to bring in a fully trained K-9, and this one deserves a second chance. If it happens he doesn’t work out, we can think about pairing you with one of the younger dogs. They’re just not ready yet.”
“If you say so.” He opened the rear door and waited until Sophie managed to load the dog, then held the passenger side for her. As she slid into the car he was struck by her courage and calm expertise despite the danger she’d just faced. That was part of the problem he had with her. She was very good and she knew it, which made her far less tractable.
Ryder smiled to himself. If she’d gotten a dog with those same tendencies she’d have been quick to send it away as a pet or maybe farm it out to the service dog program that Desert Valley Police Department rookie Ellen Foxcroft had recently started.
He could tell Sophie was studying him as he slid behind the wheel. When she asked, “Why are you grinning?” he decided to tell her.
“Just thinking. If you got a dog half as obstinate as you are, he’d wash out of the program in a heartbeat.”
“There’s a fine line between being dedicated and being foolish. I see myself as dedicated.”
Although he wanted to remain aloof he couldn’t help chuckling. “Dedicated to running things your way, you mean.”
She shrugged, reflecting wry humor in her twinkling hazel eyes. “Hey, if my way is the best way, why not?”
Ryder sobered immediately and glared over at her. “Just make sure it doesn’t get you killed.”
Sophie knew she had barely cheated death at the railway depot. In order to cope and remain functional, she usually relegated troubling thoughts to a separate part of her psyche. This time, however, it was a bit harder to do. The tight expression on Ryder’s face didn’t help.
Sophie was half-turned in her seat, checking on the condition of the dog in the back, when the vehicle began to move. “Hey! Where are we going?”
“Away from here,” he said.
“Why? I told you the danger is over. It has to be with all those K-9 rookies milling around. What did you do, bring the whole team?”
“Yes.”
Viewing his profile, Sophie admired his strong jaw and muscled forearms. He was every bit a chief, in demeanor as well as appearance. The way he carried himself spoke more loudly than words, and his pristine blue uniform fit perfectly, unlike the way the previous chief’s shirt had strained to stay buttoned over his ample stomach.
Ryder apparently sensed her attention because he glanced to the side. “What?”
“Nothing.” Sophie was afraid she was blushing. “I was just thinking.”
“About the shooter?”
“Right. The shooter. Why assume it was Carrie? I mean, would she suddenly switch to a rifle when her previous weapon of choice was a handgun?”
“Why not?” Ryder said, continuing to cruise slowly down Main, “She shot my wife and Veronica, but she pushed rookie Mike Riverton down steep stairs and burned down rookie Brian Miller’s house with him in it. Carrie has no known MO when it comes to how she murders her victims.”
Shivering with those memories, Sophie said, “I just can’t see Carrie accurately aiming a rifle. She’s too scrawny to hold it steady.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. She did miss.”
“Well, somebody did. Too bad it wasn’t caught on surveillance