Force of Attraction (9 page)

Usually the handlers had some form of cover themselves, creating a convenient excuse for why the agent would be in contact with them. Dave had been Scott's uptight cokehead brother-in-law whom he sold to from time to time.

“You sure you've told me everything? Is there anyone else we need to include in the scope? A regular girlfriend?”

“Don't have one.” Scott's expression didn't alter but his handler changed the subject. Dave knew more than anyone how messed up Scott had become after his divorce.

“It's just as well this new task force assignment is taking you off the street for a while. If there's a real threat, the Pagans will either give up when they can't find you, or intensify their efforts to pick up your trail. If they choose door number two that will make it easier for us to track them, and protect you. Meanwhile, I'll check with ATF and see if they've picked up any talk of a bounty on a narc's head. When are you leaving?”

“Tomorrow. DEA is anxious for us to get under way.”

“Where will you be?”

Scott shrugged. “How about I call you?”

The former handler looked over his notes. “For the record, can you think of anyone else who might want you dead?”

Scott smiled. “A name or two comes to mind.”

“Want to share?”

“Maybe I'm wrong.” His smile widened as he recalled how close Nikki had come to kissing him that day in her place. He'd been able to remember little else when not on the job. She was still attracted to him. Even if she did hate his guts.

“You're wasting my time.”

“Yeah. Sorry.”

Long pause. “If I get anything you'll hear from me. Meanwhile don't get yourself fucking dead playing the hero.” This was Dave's standard parting line.

“Yes, sir. I won't be leaving myself open to approach again.”

 

CHAPTER SEVEN

“What the hell?” Yardley Summers crossed the parking lot of Harmonie Kennels to greet her latest students, her expression reflecting her thinking. None of it was good.

Officer Nicole Jamieson grasped the leash tightly as her K-9 Hugo went airborne at the end of it. His repeated jumps were impressive, all four feet off the ground as ninety-five pounds of black Bouvier cleared more than two feet of air with each leap.

Six feet away, straining at the end of her own leash, Agent Scott Lucca's chocolate Lab, Izzy, stood at full alert, growling at Hugo's antics.

The mixed doggy messages were clear: Hugo was gonzo happy to meet Izzy while Izzy thought Hugo was a bad idea in every possible way.

Yardley already knew the reason why, though Agent Lattimore had neglected to mention it. It's why she always did her own background checks even if she'd been sent the official files. Trust but verify. This tiny oversight was a time bomb. Agent Scott and Officer Jamieson were once married.

She could tell them she knew, but she wanted to hear it from the pair themselves. Their explanations would reveal a lot and tell her if, and possibly how, to proceed.

She reached Cole first. “Control that gorgeous beast, Officer Jamieson.”

“Yes, ma'am.” Totally embarrassed, Cole barked orders to her canine partner. “Hugo.
Nein. Fuss
.”

Hugo stopped jumping and trotted back to heel at Cole's left side. But his happy-to-see-you-let's-play attitude had him squirming.
“Sitz.”
He sat but his butt continued to do a happy dance.

Yardley moved in close then waited until Cole gave Hugo the go-ahead to greet their instructor. “Hello, you handsome devil.” She bent down and Hugo moved to let her pet him. “How fine and strong you are, Hugo. What a sweetheart.”

Yardley stood and turned to Scott.

Scott curbed his dog before she could speak. “Izzy.
Fuss. Blieb.
”

When Izzy had moved back next to her handler, Scott let out her leash and took a couple of steps forward himself, leaving her behind to offer a smile and his hand to Yardley. “Morning, ma'am. This is my fault.”

Yardley ignored his offer of a handshake. “Don't fall on your sword just yet, Agent Lucca. This unacceptable behavior is on both of you.”

Once again, she moved into range, of Izzy this time. Izzy, whom she'd helped train, immediately came up to lean against her leg to be petted. “Pretty girl. How sleek you are. Like an otter.” She bent lower. “Yes, you are a beauty, my girl.” Izzy licked her trainer's face.

Yardley treated her dogs like small children, unashamedly doting on them in a singsongy voice of affection. It was humans she seldom gave a second chance.

She stood again, allowing her gaze to move between the human pair. “What exactly is the issue here?”

“It's my fault, ma'am.” Cole ignored Scott's look of surprise. “A misunderstanding occurred between Agent Lucca and myself when he was introduced to Hugo last week. Hugo misread my reactions.”

“I doubt that. Hugo is so tuned into you that if you sneeze he licks his nose.” Yardley folded her arms and jutted out a hip. “Want to try again?”

“Officer Jamieson and I were once married, Ms. Summers.” Scott noted Cole's glare but continued. “As you might imagine, we have a few unresolved issues.”

Something between a grunt and laughter erupted from Yardley. “DEA must be really desperate to even consider putting exes together undercover. The probability of disaster is astronomical, and John knows it.”

Cole and Scott exchanged glances at Yardley's use of Agent Lattimore's first name.

“What the hell. I can't make things worse than they are. Let's move out.” Yardley pointed in the direction of the practice field. “Officer Jamieson, lead the way.”

“Yes, ma'am. And you can call me Cole, ma'am. Hugo.
Hier
.” Hugo moved instantly with her as Cole turned to walk away.

Cole's hands were shaking as she held Hugo's lead. She had met the K-9 legend once before but she was more intimidated today than the first time. Yardley was her idol. Cole cringed. After the way Hugo behaved, her idol must think that she couldn't control her emotions any better than her K-9. And why did Scott tell her they were acrimonious exes?

In the male-dominated field of K-9 law enforcement, Yardley Summers was both an enigma and a rock star. Rumor tagged her as everything from a retired Special Ops to a sometimes still-operative spook. What she did have was access to the highest echelons of both political and military arenas.

Cole hadn't missed the look of admiration on Scott's face when Yardley appeared. Okay, she couldn't blame him. The entire male population probably responded like that when Yardley appeared.

At five feet nine inches tall with long dark red mahogany tresses and coal-black eyes, Yardley was what Cole's grandmother would call a striking woman. Yet she most often hid her long-legged Victoria's Secret curviness beneath military fatigues and windbreakers. Today, as usual, her hair was stuffed up under a fatigue cap.

Some said there was a man out there who had her complete and utter loyalty. No one seemed to know who he was or what he did. Yet, almost every man who passed through here envied him. A few learned, to their regret, that she wasn't interested in second-best.

Above all, she radiated a no-nonsense intensity and competence that made even SWAT teams and military Special Ops call her ma'am with absolute respect.

Cole led the way past a sprawling facility that housed classrooms, a dining hall, a series of canine training suites, and farther on, barracks for handlers. Next they passed the temperature-controlled low-roofed barn that served as the kennel for the animals Harmonie Kennels bought and/or trained for law enforcement and the military. At any given time the kennels might be simultaneously hosting law-enforcement K-9 handler classes on the local, state, and national levels. Only military classes and drills were held in seclusion.

As she followed them, Yardley reviewed what she knew of the pair she'd promised to whip into shape. She knew them both, though Scott Lucca much better than Nicole Jamieson.

Officer Jamieson had come to her attention six months ago as part of Montgomery Police K-9's annual training week at Harmonie Kennels. Most law-enforcement K-9 departments made certain their officers got professional refresher training at least one week a year. Though a rookie, Officer Jamieson had a gift for working with dogs. And she was eager to prove herself, pushing Hugo and herself every day. At the time Yardley had wondered why. Now watching Agent Jamieson's posture as she gazed at her ex, Yardley suddenly understood a lot more. Something to tuck away for use later.

Scott, on the other hand, was one of her salvage projects. Undercover operatives often had a miserably difficult time trying to fit back into even normal law-enforcement routines. Scott had suffered the double whammy of an extraction from a tough undercover situation just after the breakup of his marriage. Surly and feeling sorry for himself, he'd had almost gotten himself kicked out of K-9 training the second day.

Yardley smiled to herself. Handsome and used to getting his way through charm or intimidation, Scott would not allow anyone in close enough to help. Yardley understood about wounded warriors. What he needed was an intimate relationship, though not the sexual kind. He was the kind of man for whom sex was as easy as entering a room. Part psychologist and part dog whisperer, Yardley personally paired her dogs and handlers and so chose Izzy for Scott. Izzy, calm, sure of herself, and yet absolutely attuned to the world around her, was Scott's perfect K-9 partner. The fact that they worked bomb squad duty allowed Scott to stay part of SWAT, work dangerous situations, and still bond with a partner who doted on his every action. Of course, Yardley doubted Scott realized that pairing them was her idea, not his. The reports she was getting back on them reinforced the appropriateness of her choice.

Now she was saddled with partnering a team of four, who at the moment weren't making eye contact. She did like a challenge, though.

The slight smile on her face betrayed her decision. “I'm told this undercover pairing requires you to pose as a married couple?”

“Significant others.” Cole rushed to supply the answer. “I—we thought it might be more believable if we're just a couple. In case it's obvious to others that we won't, you know, work out.” Oh, God. She sounded like a teenager.

Yardley folded her arms. “From where I'm standing, this mission is already flirting with failure.”

“We just need a little adjustment time.” Cole reached down to pat Hugo and remind herself she was a police officer who had chased down badass criminals. “Hugo's really good at warming up to people.” She glanced at Izzy, avoiding Scott's eye. “I'm sure Izzy will do the same. With time.”

“Right. Hugo and Izzy are the problem.” Yardley pushed her hat back on her head. “So here's what's going to happen. First we're going see what Hugo can do on an Agility course, or this mission is a nonstarter. Cole, take him out behind the kennel barn. We've set up a course for you to use. Warm him up for me.”

“Yes, ma'am.” Cole hesitated. “Alone?”

“Do you need help working your dog?”

“No, ma'am.”

“Dismissed.”

Cole didn't look at Scott as she moved away. She knew her face must be hot to the touch. She'd been sent to detention.

She couldn't believe that she'd allowed Hugo to get so out of control in front of the one person who could send her back to the Montgomery County Police Department with a black mark against her K-9 skills. But then, she'd never seen any dog excite Hugo the way Izzy had. Other dogs seldom caught his interest, unless his alpha position was being challenged. Besides, Izzy was female.
Female.

She glanced sharply down at her partner. “Don't tell me you fell for that chocolate-brown hussy?”

Hugo looked up at her, his jaws slack in a pink-tongued Bouvier smile.

“You dog!” She chuckled. “She is cute. But I've got news. She's fixed. So it would be an exercise in futility. Let's go exercise off some of that excessive energy.”

Cole took a deep breath as she surveyed the Agility course that had been set up on the other side of the kennel. It had been more than ten years since she'd been in the ring with a dog. But something about the familiarity of the course kicked up her heartbeat with pleasure.

Dog Agility was one of several dog sport competitions. In Agility, the handler directed his or her dog through a complicated obstacle course. The judges gave points for both time and accuracy. Winners were determined by the dog that made the most accurate and rapid path around the numbered obstacles. The dogs were always off leash and handlers could use only voice cues and hand signals to direct them, no toys or food or other incentives. It was a team effort, which was what she loved best about it. The dog ran the course while depending on his human partner to point out which obstacle was next and the quickest path to it. No two courses were ever the same.

Cole let out a slow breath as she mentally ran this course. The jumps of various kinds would be no problem. She and Hugo often practiced jumps and Hugo liked to show off by leaping higher than necessary. The A-frame and Dog Walk were about negotiating ramps. No problem there, either. K-9s were trained to go into buildings with stairs and, more rarely, climb over barriers between a suspect and itself. It was the officer's responsibility to judge if there was probable danger on the other side. One of Cole's favorite trainers liked to say, “If I can't see what's on the other side, I ain't sending my dog over that wall.”

The Tube Tunnel and Collapsed Tunnel obstacles were about maneuvering through tight and dark spaces. Dogs instinctively don't like tight spaces but K-9s were trained to navigate them because suspects often chose dark, restrictive spaces like closets, under stairs, or even a drainpipe to hide in.

Cole stopped short as she spied one obstacle they had never done: the Weave. The Weave was like a slalom for dogs, requiring a series of in-and-out motions between upright poles placed close together. This was not something a K-9 team trained for. It was also, unfortunately, the most difficult obstacle to master.