When the Right One Comes Along

  Jessica burst out laughing and turned to face Cal. “Either your dog needs a lot of refresher training or I’m not cut out to be a handler!”

  Cal chuckled. “Probably a combination of both.” He moved to the first obstacle and instructed Scout to climb it again. When the dog did it effortlessly, Cal called him back. “What he did—ignoring you—isn’t surprising,” he told Jessica. “Scout’s smart. Would you want to go through all that work if you didn’t have to?”

  “I suppose not. So what should I do now?”

  “If he goes around an obstacle, stop, call him back and indicate it again, until he clears it. As I said, he’s smart. After the first few times, he’ll know there’s no getting out of it.”

  Cal stood back and watched Jessica try three times to get Scout to scale the first obstacle. When he finally did it on the fourth go, she hooted and clapped. When her eyes met his, her delight so clearly evident, Cal felt a jolt that was nearly physical in its intensity.

  “Good. That’s great,” he encouraged. “Okay,” he added, trying to get his brain to function again. “Now start with the first one again, because he now knows what you expect of him, then lead him through the course. Remember, if he avoids an obstacle, call him back and signal him again.”

  Scout did well on the first two obstacles. When he sailed effortlessly over the first of the two hurdles that came next, it was Jessica who broke stride. She looked over at Cal. “Wow! Did you see that?” She laughed at herself. “Of course you saw it and you’ve seen it many times before, but Scout cleared that hurdle so easily. It looked like he was flying.” She called him back. Signaled for him to do it again, then took him to the second one and repeated the command. She stopped again. “He’s so fast and agile! He just jumps up and over, but it shouldn’t be so easy at that height.”

  Cal watched Jessica, her face alight with excitement, and that odd little jolt hit him again. This time it persisted.

  He sat on a wooden box and watched Jessica work with Scout. They ran the course four times, the final one flawless and quicker than the preceding three. She was...mesmerizing. He had no idea where that word had come from, but it was apt. She was as sleek and agile as the dog. Finally she plopped down on the grass and, calling Scout to her, rewarded him with lavish affection. She got up, gave Scout the heel command and they ran over to Cal.

  “That was terrific!” she said. She squatted down to ruffle Scout’s fur and praise him again for his performance.

  Cal had a strong urge to touch her. Simply stroke her cheek. And when she smiled up at him, he couldn’t seem to take his eyes off her.

  “I understand the agility training now, but how do you train the dogs to do their jobs?”

  He shook his head. He was glad she’d snapped him back into reality. He’d actually been wondering what it would be like to kiss her laughing mouth, and that was definitely out of the question. “It’s all based on positive reinforcement.”

  “You mean treats?”

  “Not necessarily. We train our dogs with nothing more than a toy and lots of praise. You saw how excited Scout was to be in the yard and do what you asked him to—once he realized you weren’t letting him off the hook. It’s as simple as that, but it takes practice and repetition.”

  “Can you show me how you teach him to track?”

  “We do the tracking exercises mostly outside the yard. We set up a three-mile course. The subject will walk it, leaving two to three objects hidden along the way. Things like a credit card, a handkerchief, a phone. He or she will wander through the area, whether it’s a residential community or undeveloped space. The dog has to find not only the subject at the end of the trail, but the items that were discarded.”

  “It’s incredible that a dog can track over such a large distance and after the passage of time. How do you train dogs for other duties, such as narcotics or explosives detection?”

  “Let me show you.”

  Cal led Jessica back into the building and signaled Scout to go into his kennel. He unlatched another one. A gunmetal-gray dog, the size and shape of a German shepherd, bounded out. In addition to his spectacular coloring, he had gold-amber eyes; the near-black coat and gleaming golden eyes were an unusual combination and made for an extraordinarily beautiful dog. The dog greeted Cal exuberantly, then turned his attention to Jessica.

  He sniffed her hands, handbag, and did a quick circle around her.

  Jessica grinned. “Am I cleared of drugs, then?”

  “Explosives in this case. Boomer, meet Jessica. Jessica, meet explosives-detection dog Boomer.”

  “Boomer? Really?”

  “Really. You don’t like his name?”

  “Yes,” she said, chuckling. “I do.”

  “Good. The dogs don’t care, and we need to have a sense of humor about it all,” he said. “Boomer, into the yard,” he instructed. And the dog shot off.

  Cal moved to a locked cabinet. He extracted a cylindrical container, and secured the cabinet again.

  “What’s in the container?” she asked.

  “Explosives residue.”

  She took an involuntary step back and eyed the container warily.

  “No need for concern. It’s a trace amount, about what people would have on their hands if they’d set a bomb. The residue itself is not explosive.”

  “Do you work with Boomer, too?”

  “No. But we do training exercises together sometimes. Boomer is Jagger’s dog.”

  “Jagger?”

  “Yeah. That’s our captain Logan O’Connor’s aka. Boomer is his K-9 partner. Ready?”

  “Sure.” Jessica carried the cylinder for him and they started toward the yard.

  “Why do you call your captain Jagger?”

  Cal turned to her. “Do you know the Rolling Stones?”

  “Yes. Of course,” she responded, sounding perplexed.

  “Well, suffice it to say that our captain has some moves.”

  “You’re talking about the song, ‘Moves Like Jagger’? Your captain dances?”

  Cal burst into laughter. “I’m not sure, but that’s not how he got his alias. He has moves with the ladies. Much like Mick Jagger.”

  “Oh.” Jessica smiled, looking a little embarrassed. “Got it.”

  They followed Boomer out to the training yard. Cal asked her to keep Boomer with her and distract him while he set up the exercise.

  He lifted a precut section of turf and hid the cylinder in a box buried under the surface, before returning to Jessica.

  He alerted Boomer that he was now on the job and directed him to search for explosives. They watched as the dog executed what appeared to be a well-planned search of the area, clearing section by section as he made his way toward the location of the planted cylinder. As soon as he detected the scent of the explosive residue, he sat and stared intently at the spot where Cal had placed it.

  Jessica nodded slowly. “He’s found it. What’s he doing now?”

  “That’s called passive indication. The dogs are trained to sit and indicate the location of what they find. Dogs used to be trained for active indication, which means they’d scratch or dig in the area where they detected the scent. We generally don’t use active indication anymore since it can cause damage to property, and the department could be liable. Passive indication is just as effective but without the potential for damage.” He got up, and she followed him over to where Boomer was sitting.

  Cal praised Boomer and removed the cylinder, handed it to Jessica to carry, and they headed back to the building, Boomer leaping around him.

  Jessica drove them to Cal’s house. As she was about to let Scout into the passenger’s seat of her car, Cal had a hurried argument with himself. “Jessica?” he called. When she turned to him, he adjusted the crutch under his right arm, shifted more of his wei
ght onto his left foot. “I was thinking. Why don’t you leave Scout here this afternoon?”

  She released her door handle and straightened, watching him.

  He shuffled a bit more. “You could come back around six or seven. That would give you some time to yourself, do errands or whatever. And when you come back...” He paused. Debated once more the wisdom of what he was about to do. In the end, his heart seemed to outweigh his head. “When you come back, say around six, would you like to have dinner with me? Maybe go see a movie after that?”

  A smile curved her lips. She closed the distance between them. The smile was reflected in her eyes, too. “I’d like that.” She handed Scout’s leash to Cal and rubbed the dog’s head before turning back to her car. “See you at six.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  ALL AFTERNOON, CAL debated the wisdom of having asked Jessica out to dinner. He was attracted to the beautiful doctor, no doubt about that, but he knew the wounds he carried weren’t just the ones that were visible. Part of him was terrified of falling for someone, and risking more pain.

  He almost picked up the telephone a few times to call her with some excuse to cancel—his leg was acting up or he was too tired from the exertion at the training yard that morning. Once he even started dialing her number before changing his mind again.

  As the afternoon passed, he grew increasingly irritated with himself. What was wrong with him? It was just dinner and a movie. He should look at it as a simple thank-you for her help with Scout. It didn’t have to be anything more.

  But the more he thought about it, the more he worried that he might want it to be more.

  He fed Scout, let him out back, then they went back inside so he could shower. Showering was a little easier now that he could change the bandage himself, but getting dressed still posed a problem. Something like a pair of jeans was still too difficult to put on. Other than the pair of scrubs he’d worn home from the hospital, he’d been wearing shorts. He couldn’t wear shorts tonight, since that would limit their restaurant choices considerably.

  He settled on a loose-fitting pair of khakis and a pale blue dress shirt. At ten to six, he thought about sitting on the front porch to wait for her, but decided that would make him look foolishly eager. Which made him realize he was, in fact, that eager. Darned if he’d show it, though.

  He sat in the living room by the window and knew exactly when she turned into his drive.

  Jess drove, of course, but they took his Porsche, ostensibly because it offered more leg room. Cal was a bit anxious as to how well she’d handle his car, since hers was an automatic, but he needn’t have worried. She drove it like a pro. She obviously appreciated the car and knew how to get top performance out of it. He couldn’t prevent his gaze from drifting back to her time and again. He loved seeing the joy on her face as she tested the performance of his car.

  He’d made a reservation at the Waterfront Grill on Pier 32 Marina. They were seated at a corner table that allowed him to prop his crutches against the wall and out of the way. Soon after that, they ordered their meals and selected a bottle of white wine.

  They kept things light as they finished their appetizers. While the waiter cleared their plates and topped up their wine, Cal scanned the room—and couldn’t help frowning at what he saw. He glanced at Jessica and noted her eyes had followed his to a family being seated at a nearby table, father, mother and a child of five or six in a frilly white dress, with long blonde curls. She reminded Cal too much of Haley.

  “I can’t begin to understand what it’s like not to be able to see your daughter,” Jessica said quietly.

  “Excruciating.” Cal felt his mouth twist as he spoke.

  “You haven’t seen her at all since you left Lincoln?” she asked.

  “No, and it’s torture. Just watching a family like that...” His voice trailed off and he shook his head.

  “If you’d prefer not to talk about her...”

  “No, it’s fine. It’s there whether I talk about it or not.”

  Her eyes were compassionate. “Is there any chance for you to visit her?”

  “I’ve tried, believe me. When I’ve called to talk to Haley, and Anna—my ex-wife—tried to get her to come to the phone...” He inhaled deeply, took a sip of his wine. “I could hear Haley in the background. She was, at best, reluctant to talk to me...at worst, crying. I didn’t force it, figuring it would only make things even harder. I hoped and I still hope that—as clichéd as it sounds—time will heal, and at some point I’ll have a chance to reestablish a relationship with my daughter.”

  “How did it happen? If you don’t mind me asking.”

  “It started with the breakdown of my marriage.” He paused while the waiter served their main course. That gave Cal the opportunity to decide whether he should change the subject. But if he had any expectation that there might be something between him and the doc, she should be aware of his baggage. So when the waiter left again, he continued. “I have to be receptive to tells and nuances in my job.” He shrugged ruefully. “You’d think I would’ve realized my marriage was unraveling before my eyes. But I didn’t have a clue. I came home from work one day. I had a bunch of flowers for Anna and brought dinner home, wanting to surprise her. We’d had a...situation at our house that was very stressful for Anna. For all of us. I wanted to make it up to her. To surprise her.” He snorted.

  “Anna’s the one who surprised me. She was distracted over dinner, and as soon as Haley was in bed, she dropped the bomb on me. She said she could no longer tolerate being the wife of a cop. She said it wasn’t anything personal.” He laughed bitterly, and took a long drink. “How much more personal can it get than a wife telling her husband that the marriage he’d thought was solid and happy was over?”

  Cal hung his head. The sense of loss burned through him, as bright and sharp as it ever had. He felt Jessica’s touch on his shoulder, and she ran her hand along his arm. The reassurance she offered disconcerted him. He wanted to take her hand in his and hold tight. Instead, he linked his own fingers.

  “What triggered it?” she asked.

  “She said her decision was prompted by a break-in at our house. The situation I mentioned.”

  “How would a break-in have caused it?”

  “It wasn’t a random act. It was targeted. Our home was vandalized by an associate of a drug dealer whose arrest I’d been involved in.” He sighed. “I was on the drug squad then. Thank God Haley and Anna weren’t home at the time, but Anna said it was the tipping point for her. She said she’d been thinking about it for a while, and that was the last straw.” He rubbed his forehead, then the back of his neck. “I don’t want to imagine what could’ve happened if they’d been home.” And that was something he’d had to live with since the break-in, and it was why he didn’t completely blame Anna.

  “She wanted out of the marriage. I suppose it was my fault.”

  “How could that have been your fault?” Jessica sounded outraged on his behalf, and the knot in his gut loosened slightly. Her eyes were a tempestuous, stormy gray.

  He shrugged again. “If she’d been thinking about it for a while, there must have been something very wrong between us, if she chose not to discuss it with me, and for me not to have seen any signs. How could that have happened if I was a good husband?”

  “You’re being too hard on yourself.”

  “Maybe.” He didn’t believe it, but it helped to hear her say it. He accepted the hand she held out, took comfort in it and stroked his thumb over her knuckles. How could those strong, competent hands feel so smooth?

  “And your daughter? That doesn’t explain what’s going on with Haley.”

  Cal thought back to the day his world came crashing down on him over a year ago. His ex-wife’s declaration that she wanted out of the marriage, the internal police investigation of his conduct and the alie
nation of his daughter.

  He didn’t want to ruin their dinner, but he’d probably accomplished that already. He couldn’t believe how much he’d opened up about his personal struggles to a near-stranger. “I’d rather not get into it,” he said. “It’s complicated and not a pleasant topic.”

  “I have good ears. And a soft shoulder, if it’s needed,” she murmured.

  Her words gave him pause; she seemed genuinely interested. He’d gone this far; he might as well finish it.

  “The short version is that Anna was determined to move back to Cedar City, Utah, to be with her family. Of course I pay support for Haley, but Anna felt it would be easier for her financially if she moved home. That way she could also get her mother’s help with Haley. She’s now living with a guy she dated in college, and I’m not sure how much that had to do with her desire to move back to Utah. It really doesn’t matter at this point.

  “She was determined to move to Cedar City and take Haley with her. Apart from any problems we might have been having in our marriage, she’d never come to accept Lincoln as her home. I suppose it was just another unresolved issue between us.”

  He moistened his dry throat with the wine.

  “Not surprisingly,” he went on, “I wasn’t willing to let Haley leave the state. I insisted on joint custody, but that would’ve prevented her from moving. She claimed it was to protect Haley from what she perceived as the dangers of my job. She demanded sole custody.”

  “That’s terrible,” Jessica exclaimed.

  He sighed. “Be that as it may, Anna had made up her mind and, as I discovered, she’d do whatever she had to in order to get her way. Regardless of how unscrupulous or unethical it might’ve been. It was highly unlikely that she would’ve gotten what she wanted—so she accused me of substance abuse.”

  Jessica looked horrified.

  “Oh, it gets better,” he said sarcastically. “She accused me not only of drug use, but of...” His voice trailed off and he struggled with what came next. “Psychological abuse of her and of Haley.”