Protect And Serve. Terri Reed

“Oh, it wasn’t a humble gesture. She does this almost every session. She gets mad for some perceived infraction and makes a scene.” Gina blew out a breath. “Veronica needed me to return to the center to process the intake of three new German shepherd puppies donated by Marian Foxcroft.”

      “So you were here today.”

      “Yes. This morning.” She wiped her forearm across her forehead. “I would have been at the training center this evening if I hadn’t already committed to serving at the community church’s Saturday-night potluck dinner.”

      He hadn’t known she attended church. He hadn’t seen her there these past few Sundays. “Do you mean the church’s singles’ potluck?”

      She nodded.

      For some reason the idea of her mingling with other singles rubbed him wrong. Which was so out of left field and inappropriate at the moment. Irritated at himself, he pushed the thought aside to focus on Gina.

      Fresh tears rolled down her cheeks. He hated seeing her cry. Yet there was a jaded part of him that wondered if the tears were real. Were they a ploy to gain his sympathy?

      “Veronica wasn’t pleased that I couldn’t be here tonight,” she said. “But she agreed to microchip the new puppies and expected me to take over their care and training first thing on Monday morning.”

      However, that didn’t explain how Gina came to be here now. Something about her story felt off.

      The sounds of Desert Valley Police Department’s finest arriving drew Shane’s attention. Since the station was so close, several officers came on foot while the chief of police and the lone K-9 officer of the department drove to the training center.

      “Is that...?” Louise Donaldson, the first officer to reach the scene, clamped a hand over her mouth and turned away.

      Officer Dennis Marlton put a hand on her back and bowed his head as if the sight were too much to bear.

      Officer Ken Bucks staggered back several steps. Though it was too dark to see his expression, Shane imagined that seeing an acquaintance murdered like this must be a shock, to say the least.

      The last murder victim in the community of Desert Valley had been the wife of K-9 officer Ryder Hayes five years ago. A murder that had never been solved.

      Shane glanced at Ryder, his face hidden in shadows created by the many flashlight beams directed toward the victim. Sitting at Ryder’s side was his canine partner, a handsome yellow Lab named Titus. Shane had seen the pair around but hadn’t really had a reason to interact with the Desert Valley Police Department’s only official K-9 officer.

      Chief Earl Jones, a tall, imposing seventy-year-old man with thick graying hair, knelt beside Veronica and checked for a pulse, apparently to confirm Shane’s pronouncement that the master trainer was dead.

      When he lifted his head, tears shone in his gray eyes. He stood, his hands fisted at his side. He was clearly struggling to contain his grief and anger. “Who did this?”

      “Gina believes her brother, Tim Perry, did,” Shane said, noting that Gina hadn’t moved, just as he’d instructed her. “She didn’t see it happen, though. I haven’t asked her how she came to be here tonight.”

      “Hmm, her brother, huh?” Earl scrubbed a hand over his jaw.

      “Apparently he’s a wanted criminal in Mesa,” Shane added. Did the chief know Gina had a brother who was in trouble with the law? Or had she kept that information hidden? The thought made him wonder what else she could be hiding. Was Gina capable of murder? Was the story about her brother a convenient way to deflect blame?

TWO

      “All right, everyone.” The chief’s voice held a sharp edge that swept over the group outside the Canyon County Training Center’s side yard. “We have a crime scene and a potential suspect. Let’s work this for Veronica and bring her killer to justice.” His voice broke on the last word.

      Shane felt for the man. It was no secret that the chief and Veronica had had a special relationship. Though they weren’t related, Chief Jones regarded Veronica as the daughter he’d never had.

      And despite complaints from other trainers and rookies that she was too harsh, critical and demanding, Chief Jones’s philosophy was if you couldn’t handle working with Veronica, how could you handle all the stress of being a cop or training police dogs and their handlers?

      Chief Jones barked out orders for Marlton to fetch standing lamps and Bucks to call the coroner and start documenting the scene. “Donaldson, gather forensic evidence.”

      Officer Marlton left and returned a few minutes later with two huge freestanding lamps. Within moments, pools of sharp glaring light replaced the darkness.

      Shane and Bella stepped out of the way as Ryder and his dog moved past. Shane could only imagine Ryder was remembering his wife’s murder. But in this case they had a clear suspect. They would solve Veronica’s murder.

      Chief Jones pinned Shane with a questioning look. “Have you cleared the building?”

      “No, sir, I was waiting with Gina.”

      Earl turned to Ryder. “You good?”

      Taking a deep breath, Ryder nodded. “Yes, sir.”

      “Clear the building,” the chief instructed. “And, Ryder, be careful.”

      “Yes, sir.” Ryder and Titus headed toward the training facility door, keeping a wide berth around the dark, bloody trail.

      The chief ran a hand over his graying hair. “I’ll need to let her brother, Lee, know. He’s the only family she had left.” He shook his head with sadness.

      “Is he here in town?” Shane asked. He hadn’t known Veronica had a brother.

      “No, he’s in the state prison. He was convicted of larceny a few years back.”

      Shane bit back his surprise as he turned his attention to Gina. Seemed she wasn’t the only one with brother issues.

      Officer Donaldson squatted down in front of Gina. “Honey, I need to swab your hands for gunpowder residue.”

      A stricken look crossed Gina’s lovely face, making her already pale complexion even more so. “I didn’t shoot her. I don’t even know how to handle a gun.”

      “It’s procedure,” Officer Donaldson explained as she worked. “Our department isn’t large enough to employ a crime scene technician, so all of us officers have been trained to do basic forensic collection.” She bagged the pad that she’d swiped over Gina’s hands and face.

      “I touched Veronica to see if she—” Gina turned away.

      “I’ll send everything gathered to the lab in Flagstaff. As long as the particle count is twenty or less, then you’re fine. Cross contamination happens.”

      “But even if you don’t find any sign of gunpowder on Gina, the lack of forensic evidence could be explained away,” Shane said. “Someone wearing gloves when they pulled the trigger wouldn’t have any residue on their hands. There could be some blowback on the perpetrator’s clothing.”

      Gina whipped her attention to him.

      “True,” Officer Donaldson said. “The lab won’t be able to process Gina’s clothes until she’s able to surrender them.”

      The flash of a camera burned Shane’s eyes. Officer Ken Bucks snapped shots of Veronica’s body.

      “Marlton,” the chief called to the older officer standing off to the side, observing.

      “Yeah, Chief,” Dennis Marlton answered, but didn’t step closer. He had his arms folded over his potbelly as if protecting his paunch. He was shorter than his coworkers and had gray,