“Who’s this little guy?” Alex asked.
The officer—her name tag read Bell—smiled down at the tiny puppy, then explained that she worked in the department’s new Animal Cruelty Squad. “We mostly investigate rooster and dogfighting operations because of their frequent connection to gang activity and the drug trade, but we also respond to emergency calls when Animal Services is overwhelmed. We found this little guy trapped in an abandoned warehouse. We would never have found him if some homeless people hadn’t heard him whining and reported it.”
Alex gently ran his fingers over the puppy’s soft fur, careful not to wake him up. He’d heard a little about the new ACS, but hadn’t met any of the cops assigned to it yet. Too many times, city animal control officers were asked to deal with situations that should have been handled by armed law enforcement personnel. The squad was organized under the Field Services Division, along with other special services like K-9 and SWAT, and from what Alex had heard, they’d already started making a difference. If he weren’t in SWAT, he would have transferred to ACS in a heartbeat.
Officer Bell glanced at Tuffie. “I’d heard that SWAT had taken in an abused pit fighter. Is this her?”
Alex started to answer when the local channel interrupted the program on the TV with breaking news. Judging from all the cameras and media types visible on the scene, something big was going on. He realized what it was the moment a woman stepped up to the podium in front of the crowd and earnestly begged anyone out there watching who might have information concerning the whereabouts of her missing daughter to call the DPD Missing Persons Squad.
Admittedly, Alex had been buried in the drug task force stuff, but he vaguely remembered seeing a department alert on the girl. Abigail Elliott, a junior at Regional Texas College, had been missing for four days. As far as he knew, missing persons hadn’t come up with anything to even substantiate whether her disappearance involved foul play, much less found a lead that might bring her home. Her family was obviously hoping a public plea would generate something the police could use.
When the girl’s mother finished speaking, a distinguished-looking man with salt-and-pepper hair and dressed in an impeccable suit stepped up and begged people to take a moment out of their busy lives and call the police if they saw anything suspicious. Alex couldn’t remember the man’s name, but he recognized a powerful speaker when he saw one. The impassioned words might just make a difference for this girl.
“Poor woman,” Officer Bell said quietly. “I can’t imagine what she’s going through. If Councilman McDonald wasn’t a friend of the Elliotts, the news probably wouldn’t even waste the time putting her on camera.”
Councilman McDonald. Now that Alex had a name to put with the face, it was easier to remember where he’d seen the guy. He didn’t know much about the man personally, but he knew McDonald was a big supporter of the Dallas Police Department and had been instrumental in getting the current chief of police, Randy Curtis, appointed to his position. He seemed sincere in his efforts to help Ms. Elliott, which was kind of surprising. In Alex’s experience, there were few politicians who did anything that wasn’t directly related to getting votes in the next election.
McDonald was just answering questions from reporters when the vet tech walked over. “Dr. Barton will be able to see you and Tuffie now.”
Alex frowned as he stood up. “Dr. Barton? Where’s Doc Jones? He’s been taking care of Tuffie from day one.”
The vet tech gave him an apologetic smile. “Like I said, we’re down to one vet today—Dr. Barton. If you want to see Dr. Jones, you’ll need to make another appointment.”
Alex hesitated. Jones had done all of Tuffie’s surgeries, and Alex trusted the guy to take care of her. He wasn’t sure what he thought about someone who didn’t have previous experience with Tuffie’s injuries checking her out. But with the task force workload, Alex also didn’t have a clue what his schedule was going to look like.
“No, we’ll see Dr. Barton.”
The vet tech nodded. “She’s waiting for you in exam room four,” she said, then hurried over to talk to a woman who’d just walked in with an angry, hissing cat that didn’t want anything to do with being in a room full of dogs.
“Don’t worry,” Officer Bell said. “Dr. Barton knows her stuff. I think you’ll be impressed.”
Alex nodded his thanks, then led Tuffie into the exam room.
Dr. Barton was bent over rummaging through a bottom drawer of the built-ins on the far wall. Even though Alex did his best not to stare, it was impossible not to notice that she had an incredibly spectacular ass. He’d always been a leg man, but one look at her derrière and he suddenly decided he’d been missing out. Then she stood up, turned around, and flipped her long, wavy blond hair over her shoulder, and he realized that the rest of her was equally stunning. While her baggy white lab coat hid a lot, he could still tell that she had an athletic build and some really nice curves. It was her face that made his heart beat faster, though. She had the most captivating pair of blue eyes he’d ever seen and full red lips just begging to be kissed. From this moment forward, whenever he pictured an angel, he would think of the beautiful Dr. Barton.
Alex smiled, and when she smiled back, he heard her heart thudding a little quicker. But then she looked down at Tuffie, and her entire expression changed. Hurrying over, she dropped down to one knee beside Tuffie, gently examining her ears and face.
She gave Alex an angry glare. “Please tell me you arrested the people who put this beautiful girl in a dogfighting ring. Even better—tell me you shot them.”
If Alex had thought her heart was beating fast before, it was nothing compared to the way it was thumping now. Clearly, Dr. Barton was very passionate about protecting dogs. In his book, that made her even more beautiful than she already was.
“I wish I could, but unfortunately, we never found the people who did it,” Alex said. “We rescued Tuffie when her owner was killed. He died trying to protect her from a psychopath armed with a rifle.”
Dr. Barton’s gaze went back to Tuffie, her expression turning from anger to sadness as she ran her fingers down the fresh scars along the dog’s chest and side. “Looks like she got shot anyway.”
“Yeah. It’s a miracle she lived long enough for my teammate and me to get her here in time for Doc Jones to save her. Thank God for sirens. I think we ran every red light in town.”
The veterinarian straightened, gracing him with another dazzling grin, and Alex felt his knees go a little loose. Damn, what a smile.
“I knew there was something I liked about you the second you walked in.”
Alex felt his face flush. “It wasn’t a big deal. I’m a cop. Saving people—and dogs—comes with the job description.”
He cringed the moment the words left his mouth. Had he really just said something that lame?
Thankfully, the beautiful Dr. Barton didn’t seem to notice the cheesy line. Or if she had, she was too polite to laugh at him.
“And is bringing Tuffie to her appointments also in your job description?” she asked, her eyes twinkling.
