Operation Alpha. Justine Davis

think it’s lovely. Peaceful. Conducive to learning.”

      And again Liam caught himself thinking that if he’d ever had a teacher who looked like her, he might have paid a lot more attention. Since he’d sworn off thoughts like that—apparently unsuccessfully—his tone had been a bit snarky. “Spoken like a born teacher.”

      “I am, I hope” was all she’d said. And thus had begun day two of this longest weekend.

      If it wasn’t for Cutter, bless that hound, Liam wouldn’t have made it. But, as he had last night, the dog seemed to sense when he was too near the edge and then did something. Anything. Demand a break, more often to play than for a call of nature. Chase a bird, a ball if Liam would throw it, or simply start a rather manic game of tag. He included Ria in the tag, which made it both easier—it was difficult to think of anything but fun when you were playing with a dog who seemed to be working overtime to make you laugh—and harder, because she did laugh, delightedly, and it was the best thing he’d heard in years.

      “He is quite a personality,” she said now, after the current mad chase ended with Cutter finally stopping for a drink of water from a spigot Liam turned on for him. They sat on a different bench in a shady spot while Cutter plopped down before them, panting but clearly happy.

      “He is. He’s downright scary sometimes. But he’s also a valuable member of Foxworth,” he said.

      “I imagine he gets people to talk to you. Like, hopefully, Dylan.”

      “He does. But it’s more than that. He brings us at least half our cases.”

      She looked from him to the dog and then back. “He what?”

      Liam explained as best he could with examples, ending by asking, “Remember when he sat in front of you and Emily and looked at Quinn?”

      “Yes.”

      “He was giving him The Look.”

      She smiled but in a puzzled way. “You say that like it’s capitalized.”

      “To us, it is. It’s his ‘fix it’ look. Means there’s a problem that needs fixing and Foxworth can do it.”

      Again she glanced from him to the dog and back. “That’s...”

      “Yeah. It is. But it’s true.”

      She looked at Cutter with even more interest now. “He’s Hayley’s dog?”

      “Started out that way. But he’s Quinn’s now, too. We knew that when he got his own bark.”

      “His own bark?”

      She was laughing again, but it was clearly in delight, not disbelief. She only stopped when Cutter got to his feet. The dog stretched and then started walking toward the woods next to the building that housed the library.

      “Do you need to go with him?” she asked.

      Liam shook his head as he opened the envelope of flyers Hayley had printed up for him last night, announcing his workshop. “He’ll let me know.”

      “He is...amazing.”

      “He’s a different sort of critter, that’s for sure.”

      She tilted her head as she looked at him then. “Is your accent still off-limits?”

      His mind shot back to that moment when he’d both misinterpreted and overreacted to her comment on his drawl. Maybe he’d known even then how she was going to tangle him up. But he wasn’t going to make that too-obvious mistake again.

      “Texas,” he confirmed neutrally.

      “Your family is still there?”

      “Most of them, yes.”

      “I have a cousin in San Antonio. He has a restaurant on the River Walk. He—”

      She broke off as Cutter, from the corner of the library, let out a sharp, two-note bark.

      “And there’s my call,” Liam said, lifting his head.

      “That’s your bark?”

      “Yep.”

      “Amazing,” she repeated and got up with him.

      “Maybe you should stay here until I find out what he’s onto.”

      “I hardly think anything’s going to happen here.”

      “The roads are paved with dead critters who didn’t think anything was going to happen.”

      “Well, thanks for that visual,” she said, her tone dry. “If some murderer is lurking in the woods, wouldn’t I be safer with you and Cutter than standing here alone?”

      “I was thinking more about bears and mountain lions.” But, he thought, it was interesting that her first thought was a human threat.

      “Oh. We haven’t seen any for a long time. Coyotes, yes.”

      “With that barn full of coyote bait, I’m not surprised.”

      “Another charming visual.” She sounded a little peeved now. “Are you always so graphic?”

      “Realistic,” he retorted.

      “Then maybe I won’t tell you how I feel about orcas.”

      “I can probably guess.”

      “I love them,” she admitted. “They’re so beautiful, and I love that they play. They have a cohesive family unit, aunts will take care of calves if the mother dies. It’s remarkable.”

      Again spoken like a teacher. “And they’re killing machines, don’t forget that. They call them killer whales for a reason.”

      “That, too. Very efficient.”

      She seemed unbothered this time, and he guessed she’d come to terms with that aspect of the striking black-and-white creatures. And he wondered if she’d set him up for that, just to show him she wasn’t naïve about the realities of nature.

      The bark came again, more insistent this time. But not warning, he thought. Cutter just wanted him over there; he wasn’t sounding an alarm to come armed and ready to fight.

      He started toward the sound. Ria followed. Of course. He’d just have to trust that if it was a threat, he and Cutter could handle it. Which wouldn’t even be a question if it was only him. But Ria threw everything off balance.

      In more ways than one.

      He shoved the thought out of his mind as he rounded the corner of the building. Trusting Cutter, he didn’t take unusual care, but he was alert and ready just the same.

      The scene that greeted them was anything but threatening.

      Cutter was lolling in front of someone seated on the ground. The dog was clearly reveling in enthusiastic petting and scratching. His tail was wagging energetically. There was definitely no threat here.

      “Dylan,” Ria breathed, so close Liam could feel the brush of it against his ear. He wondered if the shiver that went through him was visible to her, even as he confirmed the teenager’s identity from the photos he’d seen.

      “He’s smiling,” Ria said, sounding pleasantly surprised. “I hadn’t realized how long it’s been since I’ve seen him smile.”

      “Step one accomplished, then,” he said quietly. And she smiled at him, as if her annoyance at him had been erased by a simple smile from a troubled boy. Which told him even more about her.

      Dylan looked up then, still smiling at the dog. But when he saw them, the smile froze and then vanished as the boy went still. Too still.

      “Here we go,” Liam muttered and started forward.

      “Gently,” Ria suggested, right behind him.

      He gave her a sideways look