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I scream and he looks up. His eyes are flat and cold, colder than the ice sheeting the deck. Like Charlie’s when he goes into predator mode. But this man’s upper lip is curled in a perpetual sneer. He doesn’t look at the deputy with a gun trained on him, but stares at me. He isn’t afraid. He certainly isn’t sorry he hurt Sheba. He stares at me, his eyes dark and intent. He refuses to look away, challenging me, or maybe trying to cow me.
That look freezes me in place. Terror shrills through me. My instinct screams at me to duck, drop to the ground and cover my head. Hide my eyes. I don’t want this man seeing my secrets, getting into my head. And that’s exactly what he’s trying to do.
“Identify yourself,” Deputy Daniels demands, his gun pointed at him.
Without looking away from me, the man takes a step back and drops the arm holding the gun down along his side. “Special Agent Rusk.”
Daniels doesn’t lower his gun. “Show me your badge.”
Whimpering, Sheba crawls across the snow, leaving a trail of blood. But she doesn’t come toward me. She inches toward Rusk. With Daniels to back me up, I rush toward her and drop to my knees in the snow, careful to face the threat. No way in hell I’ll give Rusk my back. I wrap my arms around her to keep her still. “Shh, it’s okay. I’ve got you.”
I keep my head down, but I watch him carefully. He slowly holsters his weapon and pulls out a black wallet from inside his coat pocket. He flips it open and Daniels lowers his gun.
“Sorry, she came out of nowhere.” He doesn’t sound sorry. In fact, he sounds…cheerful. Rage boils inside me. When he smiles at me, I want to punch his stupid face. Preferably while gripping one of Charlie’s knives. “I’m here to speak to you, Miss Killian.”
Fumbling, I get my phone out and call Dr. Wentworth’s personal number. “Sheba’s been shot. Should I bring her to you or take her to the emergency pet hospital?”
Calm, cool Dr. Wentworth gasps. “Bring her to me. I can be there in fifteen minutes.” Over the phone, I hear her muffled voice talking to her family, and then the door slams and her car door dings. “Keep pressure on the wound.”
Deputy Daniels puts his gun away and jerks his head at the other man toward Sheba. “Help us get her into my car. What the hell were you doing out here without identifying yourself? You scared her to death and damned near killed her dog.”
“I wanted to check out the point of entry in the report, see if you missed anything.” The deputy starts to lift her, while the other man reaches down to grab her around the shoulders. Sheba snaps at him and Rusk stumbles back. “Fuck, that’s one mean dog.”
I push my phone into my pocket and move around to help Daniels. “She’s hurt. I’d bite too.”
Between the two of us, we heft her up, though he takes the bulk of her weight for me. Rusk goes ahead and throws open the back door of the deputy’s car. I climb in and Daniels wrestles her onto my lap. “Let me grab my emergency kit.”
I run my hands through her fur until I find the wound, a slash across her front shoulder. It doesn’t feel like a hole, so maybe the bullet only grazed her. The agent stands beside the open car door. “I’m sorry, Miss Killian. It was instinct. She came out of the dark and I shot.”
“Good thing she wasn’t a child.” Daniels tears open a large square sterile bandage and hands it to me. “Next time you’re going to interview a victim of a break-in and possible attempted abduction in my county, maybe you should come in broad daylight or at least call her first.”
“Yeah,” Rusk drawls. “Sure.”
He backs away and shuts the door. Daniels jumps behind the wheel and tears out of the driveway so fast he throws gravel on Rusk and his car. The agent curses and shoots an ugly look after us.
Trust Sheba’s instincts, Charlie told me. She tried to bite Rusk, but not Daniels, even as he struggled to lift her dead weight up into his car.
I bend down over her, stroking her face, making sure she’s still breathing. “You’ll be okay,” I whisper, dripping tears on her. “I promise.”
Warning received, loud and clear. Beware Special Agent Rusk.
* * *
Dr. Wentworth runsout of the clinic with a rolling table, which makes getting Sheba inside much easier. In minutes, she has an IV in her front leg and trims the fur around the wound.
“Oh, Ranay, she’s so lucky. See the path of the bullet? We’ll take an X-ray to be sure, but I don’t think she has any broken bones, and it’s a clean wound. She’s lost some blood but that’s nothing rest and care won’t cure.” She lifts her head and gives me a brilliant smile. “She’s going to be just fine.”
My breath sighs out with relief. I drop my head and brace my hands on the exam table for a moment, trying not to burst into tears. I’ve done pretty well on the emotional front so far. I’m not going to fall apart now.
“Another inch to the right and she’d be dead.” Dr. Wentworth points to the stainless steel table on my side of the room, so I grab it and roll it over for her, careful not to touch any of the instruments. I haven’t washed up yet. “She’s smart and well trained. It wouldn’t surprise me at all if Mac taught her to evade a man with a gun.” She stitches the wound, not looking up at me, but her tone is careful, probing as gently as she examined the wound. “Then there’s the service dog angle. A deputy helps you bring her in because she’s shot. Are you in trouble, Ranay? Or Mac?”
Deputy Daniels might still be in the waiting room, and I’m not sure if he can hear our conversation or not. “It’s complicated. Someone tried to break in, and now the cops and the FBI are involved. Charlie’s gone.”
“Another Doctors trip?”
“No,” I whisper. “Gone.”
“Oh, honey. Is he in trouble?”
