Unease didn’t begin to seep in until she called for Brad four times, thoroughly searched the limited square footage of her one-bedroom condo, and came up empty.
Back in her bedroom, she noticed the drapes swaying, and when she drew them back, every muscle in her body tightened. The screen had been pushed out of the frame.
A search of the neighborhood accomplished nothing. No one had seen a large, fawn-colored dog. Liz fought the urge to call 911. Instead, she checked with Jenny to see if anyone had hauled Brad back to the pound.
“No, he’s not here,” Jen replied. “Try waiting it out at home. I know he hasn’t had much time to get familiar with his new location, but he might just turn up at your doorstop.”
Time dragged on while Liz sat on the porch. For hours. At last, she heaved a sigh. Brad had ditched her.
Or, maybe he was in trouble.
What if he’d been hit by a car? Liz lived on a busy street. Her pulse clicked into overdrive. It was nine o’clock when real panic prompted her to jump into her Honda and drive. But, where? The Fire Department? The cop shop?
The sheriff’s department was less than ten blocks away. At the receptionist’s window, Liz had the presence of mind to ask the young uniformed woman on reception duty if Deputy Bartolotta happened to be around.
“He is.”
“Could you tell him Elizabeth Jorden is here?”
“Let me ring him.” After the woman’s brief phone conversation, Liz found herself on the receiving end of a curious glance.
“He said I should bring you right in.”
Liz followed the female deputy into the inner sanctum, through a door that required card access, down a long hallway past a complex of offices until they reached a door labeled Lieutenant Dan Bartolotta.
The minute Liz stepped into the office, Dan dropped a folder on the desk, jumped up, and greeted her with, “I’ve been trying to call you for over an hour.”
“You have? I’ve been out, away from the phone, looking for—”
“Woof, woof.”
“Your dog?” The deputy flipped his glance aside as Brad squiggled out from under the desk.
The sick nervous feeling in Liz’s stomach instantly dissipated. “What’s he doing here? I’ve been looking all over for him.”
“When I checked in tonight, I found him in front of the building, hanging out with the guys switching shifts. For whatever reason, he seemed to take a shine to me, and he’s been shadowing me ever since.”
Brad made a squeaking noise and wagged his tail, then sauntered over to Liz and slobbered on her hand.
“Hey, Big Boy. You had me scared half to death.” Before she could fall to her knees and throw her arms around him, the delinquent canine scurried back to Dan’s side, tail tucked between his legs, and lowered himself to the floor, gazing at Liz sheepishly.
“I left you a message,” Dan said. “I thought this might be your dog. You don’t see a lot of Belgian Malinois around, and his collar looked familiar. Meanwhile, I started doing some checking. Something about this guy…” When he moved to a table and reached for some papers, Brad followed him like he was a magnet.
“Take a look at this.” Dan held out a computer printout.
A dog named Soldier mourns his handler’s death as Delta Operative Major Roger Huntington is put to rest. A picture of a casket draped with an American flag…A Belgian Malinois hunched on the floor nearby.
“Oh, my…I remember reading about this a while back.” Liz scanned through the rest of the article. “You think this…is Brad? That he was part of a Delta team?”
Brad perked up and barked while Liz’s eyes continued to speed over the page. “The dog in this article is a hero…look at all the missions he was a part of…Unbelievable.”
“That’s what I thought, too.” Dan reached down and patted his furry shadow on the head.
A soft whine escaped the dog’s throat as he tilted his head and looked from Dan to Liz.
The picture and stories about a dog that had risked his life dozens of times on military missions—a canine’s unfaltering devotion to his handler—all caused Liz’s insides to ache.
Dan took the printout from her. “The article says he more or less fell apart when Major Huntington died during a raid in Afghanistan. After that, the military was forced to retire him. He came up missing shortly thereafter. That was six months ago.”
“The funeral was in Washington D.C.” Liz stared into Dan’s face. “We’re a thousand miles from D.C. He found his way here on his own?”
“Amazing, huh? He and Major Huntington were originally deployed from Camp McCoy, less than twenty miles from here.”
“But…how do we know for sure this is really Major Huntington’s dog?”
“By the way he’s marked for one thing. I’m sure the army has a detailed description and identification information on file. And I made a couple of phone calls. When Soldier was retired, the Army released him to the Military Working Dog Foundation, which is an adoption agency for placing K-9s no longer capable of performing their military duties. It was a couple of days after he arrived at their facilities when he came up missing.”
Liz searched Dan’s face and wondered if he had noticed his obvious resemblance to the Delta operative in the photo, the fallen hero. No wonder her dog had taken to him.
“And watch this.” He called out, “Soldier.”
The dog perked his ears and cocked his head.
Dan knelt down. “Hier.”
Fifty plus pounds of dog scampered toward the deputy, skidded to a stop, and lunged forward, placing his paws on Dan’s shoulders.”
“Wow.” Liz beamed. A tear trickled down her cheek as she knelt beside them.
With his thumb, Dan reached past Soldier and wiped the moisture from Liz’s skin. “You’ve got yourself a really nice dog, Lizzy. Just think, if you hadn’t rescued him from the pound what might have happened to him.”
She regarded the deputy and the dog. “Yeah…he is a really nice dog.”
Liz and Brad were on their way out of the McCoy County Sheriff’s Department when the deputy working the reception window said, “He sure does miss his partner.”
“I beg your pardon?” Liz turned to her.
“Dan—he was part of a K-9 unit for three years. His dog was shot and killed on a drug bust. Guess that’s why he and your dog hit it off so well.”
Liz didn’t even make it to the front door before she suddenly knew what she had to do. With a lump the size of a Milk-Bone in her throat, she said, “Soldier, come.”
The dog stood gaping at her.
“Hier,” she whispered the command Dan had given the canine earlier.
When he padded closer, she pulled the rubber ball from her pocket. He took it in his teeth, then sat beside her, dropped it to the floor, and looked up at her inquisitively.
She swallowed. The dog was crazy about Dan. Who wouldn’t be crazy about him? And the deputy was fantastic with her dog. She heaved a sigh. The two of them belonged together…like peaches and cream, like fish and chips, like Ben and Jerry. Like…
There was no swallowing past the clog in her throat as she turned around.
As the receptionist led her and Soldier back to Deputy Bartolotta’s office, Liz had the feeling she was headed for a double fudge brownie binge. She sucked in a breath and pushed open the door.
“Liz, what’s going on?” Dan looked up.
She hesitated a second. “I think it’s you who has gotten yourself a really nice dog, Lieutenant Bartolotta.” Like overfilled balloons, her lungs threatened to pop, but she kept her lips pressed in a smile and fought to keep tears from squeezing out.
“Whoa—” Dan struggled with a response then croaked, “R-Really? Why would you give him up?”
She shrugged. “He’s crazy about you…and…I heard what happened to your…partner. And my condo’s really small. And I’m not really into dogs…”
He stared at her, then at the dog, finally returning his gaze to he
r. The glow on his handsome face was worth a thousand heartaches. “You’re something else, Lizzy Jorden. You know I’ll take really good care of him.”
He stepped closer, reached out for her, but she shuffled backward. If she didn’t get out of there immediately, she’d blow her façade.
***
Two days later on the way home from work, an all-too-familiar glare of blue and red pulsed in Liz’s rearview mirror. Her nerve endings tingled. Dan? Highly unlikely. McCoy County was patrolled by hundreds of sheriff deputies.
Liz hadn’t seen Lieutenant Bartolotta since the night she’d given up Brad, not even when she dropped off the box of dog paraphernalia at the sheriff’s office, including her ratty old slipper, the one Brad seemed to take comfort in.
More likely, she was in trouble. She hadn’t been paying attention, and she could have been speeding. For the second time in less than a week. Dread kept her nerves tingling. If warnings went down in the records, she’d probably just bought herself a ticket. Without looking up, she waited to be reprimanded by the law as the officer approached and loomed alongside her car.
“Do you mind stepping out of the vehicle, Miss?” a velvety, decadently rich voice crooned.
Dan stood towering next to her Honda. Soldier stood at his side, wagging his tail, sniffing in her direction.
Her breath caught.
“Elizabeth…”
“Sorry…I think I was speeding.” She got out and stared up into eyes the color of Caribbean water.
“Really? I didn’t have my radar turned on. Couldn’t prove it by me.”
“Then…why did you stop me?”
“You stole something from me, Liz.”
“What?”
“Something intangible…something in here.” He pressed his hand to his chest. “Soldier’s not the only one with a new crush.”
Heat swamped her cheeks, and she straightened to make herself look taller, and maybe make her hips look more proportioned to her waist.
Dan moved closer, and her knees started to sway.
“Maybe we have to work something out,” he said.
“Like?”
“We need to think about Soldier’s well-being,” he said, his strong jaw now within millimeters of hers.
She closed her eyes.
And, he kissed her—Deputy Dan Bartolotta—kissed her, a growl rumbling in his throat. Then he said against her lips, “Let’s take this somewhere a little more private.”
Inside her Honda, he settled in the passenger seat and placed his arm around her. She faced him and he pulled her closer until their lips met.
“Ummm…” She wrapped her arms around him and hoped she wasn’t dreaming.
“Wow, Lizzy.”
“Woof, woof,” sounded from the back seat.
“Like I said,” her real-life dream-man repeated, “we need to do what’s best for Soldier.”
“What do you mean?”
“He’s become quite attached to your slipper.”
Her eyes widened and her mouth pulled in a huge grin. “He has?” When she glanced at the mutt in question, Soldier leaned in and kissed her cheek.
“What do you think about joint custody?” he asked. “It would mean we’d have to spend a lot of time together.”
“Anything for the sake of a veteran like Soldier.”
“So, you’re okay with ditching the name Brad? I mean…Soldier’s what he’s used to.”
“Sure. It suits him.” Soldier was the perfect name for their dog.
As Liz’s glance settled on the perky, tail-wagging Belgian Malinois—his head on the back of the seat nestled between Dan and her—she could see a new beginning on her horizon. Healthy eating. Morning workouts. And maybe even some nighttime calisthenics.
Yeah, baby, her love affair with Brad Pitt just might lead to a fairytale ending.
***
This is a work of fiction. Names characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.
Website:
https://www.malolson.com
Cover art: Melody Marshall
***
Other titles by Mal Olson
Author of adrenaline kicked romantic suspense:
Shadow of Deceit
A full-length romantic suspense novel
Can an FBI agent obsessed with redemption and a grieving widow desperate to clear her husband’s name learn to believe in love again?
Shannon Riedel faces down danger when a gunman breaks into her office claiming her dead husband swindled him. When FBI agent Tony Crazaniak arrives to investigate, sexual heat sizzles.
The ex-Delta Force operative’s massive presence and dark eyes trigger an attraction the young widow finds unnerving. When Crazaniak convinces Shannon she needs his protection, they partner to unearth secrets her husband left behind—secrets involving a Tanzanian mine that yields perfect blue diamonds coveted by dealers around the world—secrets connected to a terrorist leader Crazaniak has vowed to take down.
With danger surrounding them, two emotionally wounded souls bond, but can they put their demons to rest and trust in love? Can they survive long enough to find out?
EXCERPT – Shadow of Deceit:
Shannon sat, stalled, her heart pummeling like prey snagged in an icy hunter’s trap.
Someone knocked on her window.
Heart in her throat, every muscle in her body tensed as she jerked her head toward the passenger side and looked through frosted glass into the face of Special Agent Tony Crazaniak.
Relief uncoiled the knot in her stomach. She’d never been so happy to see anyone in her life. She unlocked the door, and he opened it.
“Jesus, what the hell was that all about?” He dipped his head and plunked a snow-clogged foot onto the floor mat as he grabbed her bags and tossed them over the seat.
“I don’t know, and I wasn’t sticking around to find out.”
Cramming six-foot-plus inches of man into her Porsche was like stuffing two hundred pounds of prime beef into a picnic cooler. But he managed not only to squeeze in and make himself comfortable, he took charge.
“Traffic’s moving, go!”
She eased the accelerator, launching forward into an ice-jammed gridlock of traffic crawling west.
“You want to tell me what’s going on?” His shoulder brushed against hers when he shifted in the seat.
“I would if I had the slightest clue.”
His heat made her nerve endings prickle. And as far as telling him what was going on? The “would if I could” may not have been the entire truth, but it was close enough. Besides, she didn’t want to tell him anything. Yet.
What did she actually know?
Snow bunched on the windshield as the wiper blades plowed through thick gruel, as her brain churned, as she tried to come up with an answer the FBI operative would buy. “Obviously someone’s after me.”
“Obviously. But, who?”
“I don’t know.”
“Jilted lover?”
Snapping her head around, she glared at him. The full effect of his intense eyes sent heat waves rippling down her spine.
“No.” Cheeks blooming hot, she tugged her glance away and added, “No lovers.”
She felt his scrutiny slow-slide over her. The bloom that heated her cheeks spread down her neck.
“You ought to fix that,” said Tall-Dark-and-Scrumptious.
And the fact that she noticed that he was scrumptious flustered her. She wasn’t looking for…anything. Although, she could use his broad-shouldered, don’t-mess-with-me attitude and his FBI badge riding shotgun until she ditched the Lexus.
“Listen, I’m not…I mean…” What did she mean? “Not in the market…All I want is a guard dog until I lose the lunatic in the Lexus.”
He shrugged. “Can’t blame a guy for trying.” His smile slammed the scrumptious
meter so high she heard bells ring, which made her reconsider her comfort level. She realized she would be safer, at least on an estrogen-to-testosterone level, without his massive presence and raw animal magnetism steaming up the Porsche’s windows.
Looking into the mirror, she couldn’t see the Lexus. She turned around and still couldn’t spot it. Even if it were there, it couldn’t pass four cars on Wisconsin Avenue on a good day, let alone in this snowy mess.
“On second thought, why don’t I pull over at the next light and you can hop out. If I want help, I’ll whistle.”
“I don’t think so.” He swiveled to look out the rear window, his mouth nearly brushing her cheek.
Too close. Too hot. Too dangerous.
She couldn’t pull over without getting stuck in the slushy excuse for a right lane, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t stop, and that he couldn’t let himself out.
When the line of traffic stalled again, she eased her foot on the brake and said with a prick of guilt over ditching him in calf-high muck, “End of the ride, Agent Crazaniak.”
He shook his head.
“I can make it home from here. Thanks for your concern.” Too bad he hadn’t worn boots.
He settled his broad shoulders against the seat.
“I no longer need your assistance.” She glanced over her shoulder again. “The Lexus is gone.”
“Not my style to leave a woman in distress.”
“Distress?” At the moment, he was the cause of her distress. All she wanted was to get rid of FBI Agent Tony Crazaniak.
Her attention snagged on the Tahoe in front of them, which attempted a jackrabbit start, fishtailed, and landed in a snow bank.
“Maybe when you get out, you could give the guy in the Tahoe a hand.”
“You need protection.”
She reached into the glove box and whipped out a gold lipstick tube. “I’ve got it.” Pepper spray. She waggled bouquet de Red Hot Chili Pepper at him.
“You need my protection.”
“How do I know you’re really an FBI agent?” She flipped off the top.
He eyed her small but effective weapon.
“Come on, Shannon, don’t mess around.” Raising his hands in surrender, he leaned away and grasped the door handle. “I don’t think you want to do that.”
“All I want is to go home. Alone…please.”
A nanosecond later, she found herself watching him stuff her pepper spray into his pocket. She didn’t know how the exchange had happened. Other than fast.