Broken Promises (11 page)

As suddenly as Shadow started barking, she
stopped. Had the intruder—and make no mistake about it, there
was
an intruder—left or done something unspeakable to her
dog? Bastard.

What about the sliding door to the tiny
patio? She hadn’t bothered to check it. Had Alex?

She clenched her fists to stop their shaking.
She’d just have to face whoever it was alone, but she’d beat the
bastard to death with her bare fists if he’d hurt her baby.

Screwing up what little courage she
possessed, she eased back the lock, grabbed the knob, and opened
the door.

~~*~~

Alex unlocked the door to their room and
found Bette sitting on the bed wearing sweat pants, a T-shirt and a
big frown. She had the Sheltie cuddled in her arms and was crooning
a mixture of baby talk and nonsense. “If you two want to be alone,
I can come back later,” he said, giving her a leer.

“Where the hell have you been?” She jumped
from the bed and raced toward him. “What took you so long? Someone
got in here while I was taking my bath.”

He breathed in her fresh, clean scent, but
his gaze was riveted to her breasts. She wasn’t wearing a bra. The
damp T-shirt clung to her fuller-than-he’d-imagined breasts,
leaving shadows where her nipples poked through the thin fabric.
Gentleman or no, he was a man. Should he say something? Yes, but
his mouth refused to form the words.

God, yes, he looked, feasted with his eyes on
her beauty.

He dropped the sacks of takeout and must’ve
groaned. Sure as hell couldn’t form thoughts, much less words.
“Uh—”

“Better not’ve been you who scared me to
death,” she said.

His chin dropped. Still having trouble with
his powers of speech, he shook his head. “Nuh-uh.”

The pressure in his groin grew until he had
to turn away.
Count backwards.
Ten. No, one
hundred. Ninety-nine
. He knelt in time to rescue their
dinner from the dog, and then slowly rose and set the bags on the
dresser.
Ninety-eight. Ninety-seven.
His hold on sanity was
stronger.

“If your eyeballs are back in your head, I’ll
tell you what happened.” She loosened the T-shirt and plopped down
on her bed.

He shut his eyes and turned away. “Sorry. I
just—”

“Got a damned good look. That’s what you
did.”

He nodded, walked stiff-legged over to his
bed, sat, and faced her across the space between the double beds.
“Yeah, go ahead. What happened?”

He listened to Bette’s tale of how she’d been
in the tub, heard the dog bark and growl, then opened the bathroom
door and found nothing…except the sliding door ajar.

“I can’t believe you’d go off and not lock
the door behind you!” She sprang from the bed and pummeled him with
her fist.

He stood, caught her wrist, and pulled her
close to his chest. “I
didn’t
leave the door unlocked.” His
words came out in a rasp. All he could think about was her body and
the single thin T-shirt that stood between them. He’d grown hard
again as soon as he had her in his arms. Dangerous territory.
“You’d better finish drying off or—”

Her brows shot up. “Or what?” Her breasts
rose and fell a little more rapidly than before.

He choked out, “I won’t be responsible for
what happens next.”

“That’s a cop-out if I ever heard one.” She
wagged her head back and forth, then mimicked his words. “I won’t
be responsible…” Then she turned away from him.
Thank
heaven
.

“All right,” she said with an indignant huff,
then got back in his face and challenged him. “Certainly wouldn’t
want to incite an attack on my honor—now, would I?” She jerked away
from him but stopped and glared over her shoulder. “Didn’t know I
was staying with a voyeur.”

Mad was good. Now if he could just keep her
pissed off—and out of his arms—he might just survive the next few
minutes. “How was I supposed to know
you
were a closet
exhibitionist?”

“I most certainly am not!”

“Couldn’t prove it by me.”

“As you might well imagine I didn’t have time
to dry thoroughly.” She pulled the damp garment away from her
breasts. “Get over it!”

With that, she grabbed her overnighter and
flounced into the bathroom. He let out a sigh of relief. Being
around her was getting harder and harder, meaning he was on the
verge of losing control of his cock.

Sassy. Sexy. And fun. What’s not to like?

Don’t forget your sister and nephew are
missing, and the detective in charge of the case is a cretin.

He knelt and examined the carpet in front of
the slider. No footprints. Then he straightened, pulled opened the
slider, and walked outside. The small concrete patio didn’t show
any signs of an intruder—no surprise there. The patios were
surrounded by a lush lawn, but with the prior rain, he couldn’t
make out any footprints.

Bette stuck her head out of the bathroom.
“Find anything?”

“Nope.” Maybe it was never locked. Maybe the
dog had smelled a skunk. Who knew what set the creature off?

He shut the slider, locking it for sure this
time.

He walked over to the dresser, opened one of
the bags of takeout, and started setting out the food. His stomach
rumbled. Damn, a man could starve around here. He dipped into a
container of fries and snagged one, sat on the foot of the bed and
aimed the remote at the television.

A familiar rerun was on while the promised
Amber Alert crawled across the bottom of the screen. About damned
time.

Hungry enough to eat a small animal, he
leaned forward and grabbed the burger. The Sheltie pranced back and
forth, her nose pointed straight up, sniffing the air. “Better be
glad your mistress is so fond of you, or I might be eating a hot
dog
.” He chuckled at his lame joke.

A door slammed behind him. He turned to see
Bette, dressed only in a pair of short, pink PJs, standing with her
hands on her hips. “I don’t appreciate your attempt at humor. Just
because dogs can’t talk doesn’t mean they don’t understand what we
say or mean.”

Man. He’d expected more clothes not less.
Talk about not being able to catch a break. “Aw, come on. I was
kidding. You know I was.”

“She’s hungry, and I’m sure a bite or two of
hamburger would suit her just fine.”

“Too bad. I brought you chicken. I have the
only burger.”

“Then give her a bite. No onions. Dogs can’t
metabolize them.”

“Give her some of your chicken.”

“You’re the one who needs to bond with her.
Just give her a nibble.”

Grudgingly he broke off a small bite and held
it out. “Here you go, girl.” The Sheltie went for it with a snap.
“Ouch! She bit me.” He sucked on his finger. “Vicious dog. Now you
see why I don’t like ’em.”

“You big baby. That was a tiny nip.” She
shrugged. “Guess I’ll have to work on her manners. You could’ve
just dropped it and let her catch it.”

“
Now
you tell me.” He reached for
another fry.

She snorted and grabbed the french fry from
his hand. “Don’t eat ’em all.”

“I’m happy to share my fries anytime.”

“That’s good because I love fries.” She tore
off a small bite of chicken and held it out for the dog. “Sit,” she
said. Tail wagging happily, the dog sat. Bette dropped the treat
and the animal caught it.

She shot him a smug smile. “See that’s how
it’s done—at least until I have time to teach her better
manners.”

“If you say so.” He shrugged, keeping his
gaze fixed on the television screen—and away from Bette and those
dratted pink pajamas.

The news came on. “Oh, finally,” she said.
“They have the Amber Alert going. Maybe that’ll jog someone to come
forward.” She leaned against the headboard and ate her sandwich,
stopping occasionally to give the dog small bites of chicken.

Sitting on the side of his bed, he inhaled
the last of his burger. “Time for lights out.” He toed off his
shoes, but he didn’t dare undress further—not with Bette and her
pink PJs in the same room. He would sleep on top of the spread just
fine. “We have to meet Rigby early tomorrow morning.”

No response except, “Come on, Shadow. Let’s
go night-night.” She patted the bed beside her and stretched out
next to the canine.

He reached for the light and doused it. Any
other time. Any other place. Or any other woman. What he wouldn’t
give to be curled up alongside Bette. But she wasn’t a good-time
gal. She was for keeps.

And he never played for keeps.

“Alex?” Soft as a sigh, her voice drifted
across the gap between their beds.

“Yeah?” He pushed up on one elbow.
What
now
?

“Do you think there’s still hope?”

“What’s the matter?” To hide his real
thoughts on the matter, he tried a glib response. “You the one
losing faith now?”

“Trying not to.”

He heard a quiet sniff. Was she crying?

“But it just seems like she’s been gone
forever.”

Over twenty-four hours when, according to
statistics, it was likely she’d been dead for twenty-one of them.
And Cody. For some reason, he felt the need to bolster her mood.
“Tomorrow’s a new day. We can move back into the house. We’ll meet
up with Rigby and see what we can do with his superdog bloodhound.
Like you said earlier—and loudly, if I remember correctly—stay
positive. And something about not inviting negative energy.”

“I did say that, didn’t I?” She let out a
long sigh that almost ripped out his heart.

“Go to sleep, Jersey. Another long day
ahead.”

“We
have
to find them.”

“We will.” It wasn’t a lie. They’d be found.
Bodies usually were…sooner or later.

Chapter Thirteen

Sunday morning dawned bright and clear with a
bit of dew remaining on the grass when Alex and Bette checked out
of the motel. They took their bags back to Bette’s apartment and
left the Sheltie there as well. After hitting the drive-through at
Tim Horton’s, they headed over to the animal clinic. Rigby was
already waiting in his SUV when they pulled into the lot.

Alex drained the last of his coffee and
popped the two remaining Timbits in his mouth. “You didn’t have to
eat ’em all,” he said, mumbling because his mouth was full of the
doughnut holes.

“I figured you were a health nut with that
G-man physique of yours.” She opened her door. “At least
I
had a Diet Coke with mine. Saved a bunch of calories too.”

He grunted at her “saved a bunch of calories”
remark. “Right.” Easing from the compact, he waved at Rigby.
“Morning.” Where was the dog? Maybe in the back of the trainer’s
massive, dark green SUV. Increasing tension between his shoulder
blades reminded him of his phobia. He sucked in a deep breath.
Just a dog. A very helpful dog
.

“You think we’ve had too much rain?”

“Depends on how much fell in this part of
town. A light rain might actually intensify the scent. Did you
bring a scent article?”

“We have the blouse and shoes Jackie wore the
day before she disappeared.” Bette proffered the scent items, which
were still in the plastic bag.

Alex shifted from one foot to the other while
he watched Rigby open the back of his SUV and release the
bloodhound from his cage. Damn. The dog was bigger than Alex
remembered. To hide his discomfort, he asked the dog trainer, “What
makes this breed better at tracking scents than others?”

Rigby rubbed his chin. “Might say he’s
engineered by nature for scent tracking, from the olfactory center
in his brain to his long ears.”

“Looks like those ears would get in his way,”
Alex said. “He ever step on them?”

“They aren’t there for looks, son.” The dog
trainer let out a chuckle. “They sorta sweep along close to the
ground and gather the scent in the dog’s nostrils. And his
low-to-the-ground body is just another part of how form follows
function. Has to be kept fit too. Dog like this ’un will keep going
for miles. Long as there’s scent.”

“Wow.” Alex scratched the side of his head.
“What about tracking in the city? I can see how they would do well
in an open field, tracking an escaped felon.” Why couldn’t he just
shut up and let the man get on with it? “I’d think they’d be
confused with so many cars. And, obviously, she was taken away in a
vehicle…”

“You’d be surprised at how well bloodhounds,
especially this ’un, can follow a scent trail. Seen some near
miracles. Once Duke here finds a trace of Dr. Jackie’s scent, he’ll
follow it. Still depends on how hard it rained over here
yesterday.” He removed the scent articles from the plastic bag and
placed the items at the level of the hound’s muzzle. “If he finds
her scent trail, he’ll take off, and I’ll follow his lead on foot.
You’ll need to drive behind to keep us from getting run over.”

Alex nodded.

“She was last seen inside the building?”
Rigby asked.

“Yes. That’s the last I saw of her. She went
back inside and turned on the lights.”

“We’ll start there then.” The trainer led the
dog onto the porch and waited for the dog’s signal. “Gonna try
around back.”

“There’s a side exit too. That’s where Jackie
and the rest of us park.”

“And where did the man with the cat
park?”

Bette pointed at a large oil spot. “Over
there. His SUV must’ve left that.”

Alex walked over to the stained pavement. “He
took her away in his vehicle because hers remained here. Police
took it in for forensics exam. Doubt they found anything of
significance.”

A loud baying sound erupted from the
bloodhound. Alex jumped. Damn it all. Acting like a scared girl
every time a dog barked was getting old. Not to mention
unmanly.

“Okay,” the trainer called. “He’s caught
scent.” The bloodhound followed a path leading from the side door
to the oil spot. He snuffled all around the spot and then took off
with the trainer following.