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Standing, he paused near the car door for his leg to adjust to the new position before he took a step. During his rehab he’d learned the weakened muscles didn’t always cooperate. A few embarrassing face plants in the physical therapy room had taught him caution, especially when there was an audience.
He pressed the lock button and pocketed his keys while Heather greeted her brother with the standard Morris family bear hug.
Over her head, Deputy Morris glared at him, but Dale wasn’t cowed.
“Just dinner?” the deputy asked, shifting so his arm draped protectively across Heather’s shoulders.
“An important dinner,” Dale replied, his voice even.
“Shut up, J.C.,” Heather scolded, shoving her hands into the pockets of her coat. “I’m happy.”
The deputy didn’t look convinced. “What’s so bad that you called us,” better to make that much clear right now, “in the middle of the night?”
Morris looked to his sister, then narrowed his gaze on Dale, clearly unhappy with the new dynamic. Welcome to the party. That made two of them. Dale could only hope to delay the inevitable confrontation about his “intentions” with Heather. Despite the rock on her hand, his only intention was to keep her safe—from herself as well as Lester. Morris might understand that objectively—if the woman at risk was anyone other than his sister.
After his overblown reaction to that kiss, it was obvious his body suddenly had other intentions where Heather was concerned. Those intentions had no purpose during their investigation. She was a free spirit and absolutely the wrong woman for a jaded, wounded, workaholic “suit” like him.
Monday couldn’t come soon enough for Dale.
He took a halting step closer to brother and sister, willing Heather to leave the shelter of her brother’s arm. Why did it matter? This was just an act. An act she’d sold well from the beginning.
It was almost a relief when she turned to the deputy. “Show us what you’ve got,” she said.
Blood was always thicker than water, Dale thought, but her use of “us” counted for something.
“They came in through the back,” Deputy Morris began, leading them around the building. “The security system wasn’t forced and the monitoring company has no record of any alarm.”
“Which leads you to believe Terry let them in,” Heather said. “As I said, that’s just not possible.”
“Well, someone managed to figure out the code.”
She snorted. “A few of us had our own, but the master code wouldn’t have been tough to crack.”
“The monitoring company says the master code was used,” the deputy said.
Nearing the open back door, the sounds of barking dogs and unhappy cats grew louder. Dale cringed. “Anything stolen?” Crossing the threshold into the kennels, the smell of blood was a tangible force. He paused, fighting his dark memories of the night op when that metallic smell had been his blood watering a nameless patch of desert.
“Only animals, if the records are current,” Morris said, regret in his voice, as he looked at his sister. “At least that’s what I hope Heather can verify.”
“Shouldn’t that information come from the owner of the shelter?” Dale studied the inside of the door, locks, and frame. All of the surfaces were shadowed where the tech units had dusted for fingerprints.
“The county owns the shelter and the manager is with Sheriff Cochran,” Deputy Morris replied. “Ask anyone. They’ll all tell you no one knows this place better than Heather.”
“I see.” From Dale’s perspective that was all the more reason to keep her far from here, but Deputy Morris couldn’t know that yet. Heather didn’t want him involved in the bigger picture and Dale would respect that for as long as possible.
“I told you volunteers keep this place operational,” she said, sliding her small hand into his.
“Right.” But he didn’t have to like them taking advantage of her. He smothered the errant thought, blamed it on the personal contact and her outstanding acting skills. Nothing about her life was any of his business beyond the purpose of the case. “Come on, Deputy, walk us through the rest of it.”
“They came in the back, cut through some cage locks and used the keys on others.”
“At least two perps,” Dale said.
Morris agreed.
The noise in the kennels changed as the dogs recognized Heather. She made soothing noises as she looked around and her big brown eyes went wide as she turned in a slow circle. It wasn’t a pretty sight with blood spatter staining the floor. Her perpetual smile had faded with her brother’s matter-of-fact recitation of events, but the sadness stamped on her face twisted something deeper inside Dale.
“Have arrangements been made?” She dropped to her knees in front of one cage where a large mutt cowered near the back wall. “Hey, Sal. You’re okay, baby.”
