Colton P.i. Protector. Regan BlackЧитать онлайн книгу.
up the puppies to carry them back to their kennel for what remained of the night.
In the hallway she paused, listening and looking around for Shane and Stumps, relieved they didn’t seem to be in the building. Whenever she bumped into Shane, here or in town, she felt an awkward and uncomfortable secondhand guilt. Until tonight, she’d always managed to maintain her professional footing when he was nearby.
Her arms full of the puppies, and her head a bit woozy, she pushed through the door to the kennels backward. Turning, she found herself face-to-face with Shane—or rather her face to his chest. Did everyone have to be taller than her? When she glanced up, she caught a wisp of concern in his gaze before his eyes iced over with the familiar reserve and disdain.
“What are you doing?” he demanded.
“My job,” she replied calmly, in deference to the puppies and fussing dogs nearby.
“How are you doing?” Carson asked.
She hid her jolt of surprise behind the wriggling puppies. How had she overlooked her brother standing right behind Shane? She knew they occasionally teamed up for cases, but seeing them together was unexpected. Giving Carson a smile, she walked down the row and settled the puppies into their kennel. She closed the latch and made a note of the time on the clipboard attached to the door.
The instant she finished, Carson pulled her into a big, lingering hug. She eased out of the embrace to get a deep breath and to make sure she wasn’t caught wallowing in front of Shane. “I suppose when they got the call about trouble here, they dragged you out of bed, too?”
“You’re my little sister. I’m allowed to worry.” He looked her up and down, his gaze stopping at her neck. “That looks like a needle mark.”
She nodded, brushing at the sore spot with her fingertips and pulling her ponytail around to hide it.
“Why didn’t the paramedics transport you?” Carson demanded.
“Because I’m fine,” she said. Did they have to do this in front of Shane, of all people? If Carson kept up the big brother routine, she was likely to lose Stumps’s respect, as well. “And I’m an adult,” she reminded him.
“I’d feel better if—”
She held up her hand and cut him off. “Can we take this somewhere else? The dogs really need to get back to normal.”
“Not quite yet,” Carson said, clearly unhappy with the answer. He waved her over as he moved down toward another aisle of kennels.
Her stomach knotted as he tipped his head to the side and pointed. “What can you tell me about this dog, Nico?”
Danica rushed forward, her shoulder bumping Shane in the process. She ignored the sensation, consumed by more bad news tonight. Whatever she’d expected to find, it wasn’t the door to Nico’s kennel hanging open, the kennel empty. “You found it this way? He isn’t anywhere inside?”
“Stumps found the kennel,” Shane replied. He held out his phone to her. “The dog isn’t here.”
She glanced down at the picture of the corgi, frozen in the quiet alert stance in front of Nico’s kennel. “Oh, no.” She pressed her fingers to her lips. “This can’t be happening.”
“Talk to me, Danica,” Carson prompted, pulling out a notebook. “Has this dog been stolen?”
She nodded. “Must have been,” she said. Worry and misery swamped her in waves as she reached for the clipboard log they kept on Nico. “According to this, I took him out to the yard one last time before ten. That was a little earlier than usual because of the puppies.”
“You don’t remember taking him out?” Carson asked.
She closed her eyes tight, searching for the memory. “I remember opening the gate and clipping the lead to his collar.” That had to be today, she thought. She’d had the last two nights off. “I don’t really remember being outside with him.” Yet she must have done it or she wouldn’t have written it on the chart.
It occurred to her that if someone had attacked her to get to Nico, they could have stolen the dog more easily while she was in the yard with him. She mentioned it, but neither Carson nor Shane seemed as convinced.
“What’s his status?” Shane asked.
“Nico is fully trained attack/protection, but not yet assigned to a handler.” She turned to her brother. “Dogs with Nico’s training are kept separate and we limit their interactions. Other than his trainer, only the vet and I have had any contact with him.”
“So he bonds best with the handler,” Carson said.
“Right.” She wrapped her arms around her middle, willing away the tremors. This was a disaster.
As both Shane and Carson took notes, Danica watched Stumps. The adorable corgi was Shane’s partner and companion, but she had worked with him through his initial obedience training and she had written the recommendation for him to become an evidence dog. “You’ve had a long day,” she said to him in the same tone she’d use with her human colleagues. “Can we please take this elsewhere?” she asked again.
She rubbed her hands up and down her chilled arms. Her knees were like jelly and her mind kept fogging over. The whining from nearby dogs normally didn’t bother her but right now it was giving her a pounding headache and she wanted to shield her eyes from the lights overhead.
Carson nodded. “A crime scene unit will be here shortly, but you don’t have to guide them through.”
Great. More disruption for the dogs tonight. She couldn’t argue. Nico needed to be found and recovered immediately, and gathering evidence was the first step. Hopefully the RRPD would put a tracking team on the case.
The three of them, along with Stumps, returned to her office, and she was thankful for the quiet after the noisy kennel. Carson walked in and sat down in a guest chair while Shane leaned against the doorjamb, Stumps at his feet. On weak knees, she sank into the second guest chair rather than circling around to sit behind her desk. Shane’s tall, muscular form blocked the only way out. Inexplicably irritated, she bit back a request to have him move. She’d never been claustrophobic before, but tonight everything was different and it bothered her to think she couldn’t get up and walk out whenever she chose.
“What can you tell us about the attack?”
She hesitated, thinking her brother’s question should have ended with dog. “Oh. You mean what happened to me?”
He nodded, pointing over his shoulder to Shane. “They found you unconscious in the yard with the puppies. Do you remember anything about your attacker?”
“No. Not really.” She closed her eyes again. “I heard a noise. The gate maybe?” She scrubbed at her face. “No. A twig snapped near the gate—that was it.” She was sure that had been while the puppies were out.
“You need a hospital,” Shane stated.
He was studying her so intently, she pressed her hands between her knees to warm them up.
“When did you find her?” Carson twisted around to face Shane.
“About ten forty-five.” He consulted his phone again. “Log says I called dispatch at ten forty-seven.”
“Based on the log on Nico’s cage, she could have been out for up to an hour.”
“Hospital,” Shane murmured.
Restless, she pulled the tie from her hair once more and left it loose. “I just need to get home and sleep it off.”
Carson started to answer and stopped, interrupted by his cell phone. He checked the display and then looked from Danica to Shane and back again. “I need to meet with the crime scene unit. Shane will drive you to the hospital.”
Turning to go, he paused at the doorway, waiting