Rick excused himself, explaining that he’d been involved in Sawyer’s training and wanted to check on the dog and his handler, and loped after Jackson and his dog.
“Enjoying yourself?” Madison heard a slurred voice by her ear and was assailed by the scent of sour breath. She stepped back. It was Brody. He must have left his perch after they’d made eye contact. She took another step back.
“Yes, I am. Thank you.”
She was about to walk away, but Brody grasped her upper arm with a clammy hand. “Where you going?” he asked.
There was no doubt in Madison’s mind that he’d had too much to drink. She wondered how he could get away with it at a party with a bunch of cops, including his boss. Then she realized that the whole time she’d been there, she hadn’t seen him talk to a single person other than her when Rick had introduced them. Whenever she’d noticed him, he’d been sitting by himself in the same spot at the far end of the yard, drinking beer. She looked down to where he held her arm, hoping he’d get the hint and back off. When that didn’t work, she tried to pull free, only to feel his grip tighten on her biceps. He had more strength than she would’ve given him credit for. She wasn’t worried, though, not with a yard full of cops, but she was annoyed and uncomfortable. She didn’t want to cause a scene.
“Look,” she began. Before she could say more, the hand was off her arm, and a flailing Brody landed on his backside on the grass, the bottle of beer spilling on the soft ground.
Madison rubbed her upper arm where Brody’s fingers had been digging, trying to ease the dull ache. For a second time, everyone stopped to look at the commotion. This time she wasn’t on the periphery but central to the incident.
Rick towered over Brody, a menacing look on his face. He extended a hand. “Gotta be more careful there, Brody. Uneven ground here,” he said, speaking loudly enough that anyone who was paying attention could hear. She was grateful that Rick was trying to defuse the situation to avoid causing a scene. But Madison was closest and heard him continue in an undertone as he helped the other man up, “Touch her like that again, and you and I are going to have a problem.”
Madison glanced around quickly to see if anyone else had heard, but it seemed that they’d all gone back to what they’d been doing. Except Logan. The charm was gone as he watched the interplay with narrowed eyes. He obviously knew there was more to the incident than Rick had let on.
Brody grumbled something under his breath, then dusted off his jeans and moved away. She assumed he’d gone home, because she didn’t see him again the rest of the evening. A couple of people mentioned that they’d seen him get into a cab. A smart move, in her opinion.
She saw Rick and Logan huddled together shortly after the incident, with long faces and intent eyes. She was certain it had to do with what had happened with Brody, but when Rick returned, he was all smiles and easy manner.
He hardly left her side for the rest of the evening. The altercation with Brody aside, Madison had enjoyed herself. She was sad to see the evening end, but she had an early start at the clinic Monday morning.
At Madison’s house, Rick placed both helmets on his seat and walked her to her front door. She hadn’t thought to turn on the outside light, so they stood in the silvery glow of the moon.
“Thank you for coming with me today,” Rick said.
“I had a nice time. You work with great people.”
“I hope those great people will stop flirting with you now when they bring their dogs to the clinic!” he joked.
“And take all the fun out of my job?” she retorted.
He laughed and reached out to tuck a strand of her hair that had come loose behind her ear. His fingers lingered on it, and when he took a step closer and lowered his head, she let her eyes flutter closed. She didn’t have to see him to know he was only inches away. She could feel his warmth, the caress of his breath. She didn’t exhale, anticipating the brush of his lips across hers.
At the loud woo-hoo from behind the door, they both stepped back. Madison gave a nervous laugh.
“Your chaperone?” Rick asked, his voice a little hoarse.
“So it would seem.” Madison might not have been accustomed to good-night kisses on a first date, but she was disappointed that the opportunity with Rick had slipped away. There was something she really liked about him. A number of things, actually. “I had a nice time,” she repeated to fill the silence. “Thanks for inviting me.”
Rick hesitated, then took her hand and lifted it to his lips. “Have a good night, Madison. I hope I’ll see you again, soon.”
Before Madison could say anything, he jogged down the steps, put on his helmet and placed the other inside the back carrier. Then, with a roar of the powerful engine, he rode out of sight.
CHAPTER FIVE
“HEATHER, PLEASE APPLY a discount of ten percent to Mrs. Singer’s bill,” Madison instructed the Mission Bay Veterinary Clinic’s receptionist.
“Sure, but why?” Heather asked in a whisper.
“Mrs. Singer is elderly, and Maple,” Madison said, referring to the woman’s Labradoodle, “isn’t getting any younger, either. We’ll be seeing them on a regular basis.”
“That’s so—”
Before she could finish, the door to the clinic swung open and both women glanced at the blonde who rushed in. She was...striking was the word that came to Madison’s mind. She was tall. On the slim side. Her face was longish, not classically beautiful, but...striking.
Madison looked at the dog by her side. Him she recognized. “Hey, Scout,” she called to the German shepherd, and bent down to greet him. Then she looked up at the woman and met wide-set, intelligent but appraising eyes. “I’m Madison Long,” she said. “Is there something wrong with Scout?”
“Madison’s assigned to take care of the SDPD dogs.” Heather joined them. “Madison, meet Jessica Palmer, Officer Calen Palmer’s wife.”
“Nice to meet you, Dr. Long. Do you have time to see Scout?” Jessica asked.
“I just finished my last appointment for the day, so yes. Of course.” She led Jessica and Scout to examination room one.
“What’s the problem?” she asked. Scout seemed fine to her. Energetic and happy. She crouched down to check his eyes, ears, teeth and gums.
“Scout ate a sock.”
Madison glanced up at Jessica and noted the flush on her cheeks. “Believe me, it’s not the first time a dog has done that.” She proceeded to palpate Scout’s abdomen.
“Maybe not, but it’s the first time for me with Scout. I’m a doctor. I understand the risks. If it comes back out before it makes its way into his intestine, it’s not dangerous,” she went on hurriedly. “I know dogs usually eliminate small objects like this on their own, but...Scout is much more than a partner to my husband. He’s part of our family. Cal risked his own life to save Scout. I don’t want to take any chances.”
Madison stood up and placed a reassuring hand on Jessica’s arm. “Don’t worry. He’ll be fine.” She removed a jar from a cupboard and a syringe from a drawer.
“What are you doing?” Jessica asked.
“Administering a small dose of hydrogen peroxide. I don’t believe the sock’s made it into his intestine yet, so it should be a simple matter of getting him to bring it back up.”
“Oh, good.”
“You and your husband weren’t at the K-9 Unit captain’s barbecue,” Madison said conversationally, trying to ease Jessica’s anxiety.
“No. We were out of town with our girls for the weekend. We were sorry to miss it.” Jessica tilted her head and gave Madison a considering look. “You were there?”
Madison nodded. “Yes. It was fun.”
“So...you went in an official capacity to meet the members of the K-9 Unit?”
Madison detected the curiosity in Jessica’s voic
e. “No, I didn’t. I went with Rick Vasquez.”
“You did?”
Madison cast a quick glance at Jessica as she extracted a syringe full of liquid from the jar. Jessica’s mouth was all but hanging open.
“Yes. Is that a problem?”
“No. Yes. I mean, no... It’s just... Rick? He doesn’t usually...”
Madison wasn’t sure she wanted to find out what Jessica was thinking. She’d enjoyed herself at the barbecue, liked Rick and was looking forward to getting to know him. She didn’t want her judgment clouded. She changed the topic. “You said you’re a doctor?”
“Yes.”
“Where do you practice?”
Jessica flushed again. “Oh, I don’t anymore. I run Care Across Continents. We’re a charitable organization. We send doctors to developing countries in need. Have you heard of us?”
“Yes, of course. Your organization has an excellent reputation.”
Jessica beamed with pride. “Thank you. We have a terrific team, and they really do good and meaningful work.”
Scout started to emit dry, heaving sounds, drawing their attention back to him. His eyes were shut tight and his face looked as if he had a big, toothy grin spread across it. He was obviously trying to hold back from vomiting. The hydrogen peroxide was working.
Jessica immediately squatted down to comfort Scout, while Madison held a stainless steel bowl in front of him and stroked him gently. Within seconds, the dog could no longer control the heaving and he retched into the bowl.
Madison angled the bowl so Jessica could see its contents. “Mission accomplished. It looks like a tennis sock to me. One of yours?”
Pink cheeked, Jessica nodded.
“Safe to say, you don’t want it back?”
Jessica laughed sheepishly. “Oh, no, thank you. I’m just going to have to find its mate before Scout does.” She gave an embarrassed shrug. “I’m not the most orderly person, and Scout, being a search and rescue dog, is very good at finding articles I misplace. Usually I get them back...” She waved a hand toward the bowl. “And not in that manner.”
“No, this wouldn’t be the preferred method,” Madison agreed with a smile, and emptied the contents of the bowl into a waste receptacle.
“You’re new to the clinic?” Jessica asked while Madison cleaned up.
“I’ve been here a few months now. I’m not just new to the practice, but to San Diego.”
“Oh, welcome! Do you like it?”
Madison dried her hands on a paper towel. “For the most part, I love it.” She tossed the towel in the garbage and offered Scout a treat. “I miss my family and my friends, though.” It surprised her that she’d confided in Jessica. What she’d said was true, but she didn’t like to complain.
Jessica looked sympathetic. “I can imagine that would be difficult. I don’t know what I’d do if I couldn’t drop by my parents’ house for a cup of tea and a chat. There’s always the phone, but it’s not the same, is it?”
Madison shook her head. “No, it isn’t.”
“I have to get Scout back, but how about having a coffee or a glass of wine one day after work in the next week or two?”
Madison ruffled Scout’s fur, then opened the door to the examination room. “That would be nice.”
Jessica shook Madison’s hand on the way out. “Good. I’ll give you a call to set it up. Thanks for your help with Scout.”
“No problem. I look forward to getting together.” Madison meant it. She felt a connection with Jessica, one that was based on more than the similarities in their professions.
* * *
IT WAS ONLY MIDAFTERNOON, but the day had already been a grueling one for Rick. Despite its being a scheduled day off for him, he’d been at the division since six that morning. He and Logan and a couple of the other guys from the unit had met with SDPD Chief Cohn, and the heads of the SWAT team and Narcotics Task Force. They’d kicked around their strategy for taking down the Los Zetas Cartel. Through their intelligence sources, they’d been able to ascertain that it was Los Zetas behind Jeff’s murder.
They’d considered every opportunity, every known risk and potential flaw, until they’d exhausted themselves. They’d been working on the plan all day, refining it as much as they could. In their line of work, there was never such a thing as a perfect plan.
They figured they’d have one shot at it; they were taking it and they’d better make it work. They didn’t want any cops or innocent civilians sustaining any injuries, and certainly didn’t want to risk the loss of another life. There was more at stake here than curtailing the cartel’s operations. No one could ignore what had happened to Jeff. And if they could stem the flow of narcotics into San Diego by shutting down one of the most active Mexican cartels—even for a limited period of time before they regrouped—they’d accomplish something significant. They had to believe there were kids who wouldn’t be lured into a life of drug abuse or trafficking if the SDPD could eliminate the enticement.
Rick thought of Madison often throughout the day and had wanted to call her. But the day had brought back memories of Jeff’s murder, and Rick just couldn’t force himself to sound cheerful. It was with the gloomy cloud of loss and grief hanging over him that Rick entered his parents’ house that evening. This house had been his home from the time he was thirteen, the home in which the Stewarts had raised him to become the man he was.
Countless times he’d thanked the powers that be that his mother, Hillary Stewart, had been volunteering at Child Services the day he’d dragged his sorry butt in, and that she’d seen something in him that he hadn’t seen in himself. The Stewarts had fostered him, adopted him and in the process more than likely saved him.
He hated the idea of bringing sadness to his parents’ home, not to mention worry. He fully appreciated that his family’s concern about his safety would be heightened by the recent events.
But merely walking through the cheery living room and into the bright, sunshine-yellow kitchen lifted his spirits—which rose even more when he saw his mother standing at the kitchen sink, washing vegetables.
She was humming some jaunty tune. With the water running she must not have heard him approach because she jumped when he wrapped his arms around her waist.
“Oh, Rick! You took ten years off my life!” Hillary exclaimed, turning and placing a hand over her heart.
He enfolded the petite, blonde woman—his polar opposite—in a bear hug. “Hey, Mom!” He dropped a kiss on the top of her head and inhaled the scent he’d grown up with—sweet alyssum and lily of the valley. He knew what it was because he’d been so fascinated by it when he was a kid, and she’d told him more times than he could count.
When Hillary tried to step away, he held tight. “One more minute, Mom. I need this.”
She hugged him back, and he wondered how he’d been so lucky as to end up with these people as his family. “Where’s Dad?” he asked as he released her.
Hillary laughed. “Where do you think? He’s in the garage puttering away on something or other. He’s expecting you. I’m sure he’ll be in soon.” She slid her arm through the crook of his. “But it’s just us for now, so we’ll have a chance to catch up.” She steered him to the kitchen table, then set about brewing a fresh pot of coffee.
Rick pulled out a chair, turned it around and sat with his arms crossed on its back. He took pleasure—as he always did—in watching his mother’s efficient and graceful movements. Yet today, he could sense the nerves below the surface. “You want to talk about it?” He didn’t have to clarify that he meant Jeff’s murder. He understood his mother well enough to know it had been troubling her since she’d heard about it.
She glanced over her shoulder, worry etched on her brow, the sheen of moisture in her eyes. “I don’t know what there is to say, other than my heart is broken for his family.
We met him, didn’t we? At your birthday celebration last year? Him, his wife and their little boy.”
Rick nodded.
She turned to the coffeemaker, but he could hear the raw emotion in her voice. “It could’ve been you.”
“Yes, it could’ve. But it wasn’t.”
With her back to him, she nodded rapidly. “That’s good, yes, but it’s selfish, too. Oh, that poor man and his family...”
Rick had spoken to Jeff’s wife and mother. He knew them both personally. Although he hadn’t been the one to impart the heart-wrenching news, he’d had to talk to them. Extend his condolences and whatever support he could. He had no words of comfort to offer his mother. He knew perfectly well that cops’ families lived each and every day with the possibility that their loved one might not come home that night. Not prevalent, but it happened. Whenever a cop lost his or her life, the apprehension grew more intense. How could he bolster his mother’s spirits when he himself felt so down? Then it occurred to him that he had a way to distract her. “I met a woman.”
Hillary spun around. “Oh?”
He hadn’t intended to raise the subject, but it seemed to have been the right thing to do. Through the remnants of tears, he could see the bright curiosity in her eyes. Oddly he found he wanted to talk about Madison.
“I thought that would get your attention.”
She finished pouring the second coffee and brought both mugs to the kitchen table. “This is major,” she said with a raised brow.
Rick took a sip of his coffee. “C’mon. It’s not that big a deal. It’s not as if I don’t date.”
“Oh, you date,” she said. “That’s not news.”
“Then, why are you looking at me as if I’ve grown horns or something?”
She chuckled and patted his hand. “Don’t you realize what you’ve done?”
Baffled, he shook his head.
Her grin widened, and she cupped his cheek. “Rick, my dear son, this is the first time you started a conversation about a woman you’re seeing.”
“I’m not seeing her. Not exactly...yet.”