“Heard we might need your skills tonight.”
“Whatever you need.”
“Sounds like we’re going to be working closely on this one.” He pulled out a small notebook as Kyle filled everyone in.
“Woman’s name is Shelly DuPaul. Boyfriend’s a cop named Dexter Morrison. Works out of Douglas County. Ben found her broken down on the side of the road—car was sabotaged. Loose lug nuts, damaged serpentine belt.”
Charlie’s stomach twisted. “He tried to kill her.”
“That’s my read on it, too.” George’s expression was grim. “Morrison’s going to claim it was mechanical failure if we can prove anything at all.”
“But we’re going to make sure Shelly’s safe first,” Kyle said. “Everything else comes after that.”
“Understood,” Charlie said. Flo sat at Charlie’s left heel, alert but calm, like she knew something important was happening.
My dog, Charlie thought, and allowed herself one small moment of pride before locking it away again.
Kyle’s phone buzzed. “They just went through the gates. Here’s how we’ll play it.” He stood up and came around the desk. “I’ll meet them up front with Camo. You all hang back until I get a read on her, get her calm. We don’t need to overwhelm her.”
“Sounds good,” George said.
Kyle and Camo headed for the parking lot. Kyle’s office was at the front of the building, so Charlie heard the truck before she saw it. The low rumble of a diesel engine, tires crunching on gravel. Her pulse kicked up and she told it firmly to calm down.
It’s just Ben. Shane’s friend. That’s all.Nothing special.
Except he was special. She’d known it the moment she’d seen him. The way he carried himself—that combination of quiet strength and unexpected gentleness—and the way he made himself smaller around people who were scared, like he understood what it meant to be intimidating without wanting to be.
Charlie, Shane, and George watched as the truck pulled into the parking lot and stopped. In the low light, Charlie could see two silhouettes in the truck.
The driver’s door opened and Ben climbed out.
Six-seven, easily. Broad shoulders, long hair tied back, moving with the kind of controlled grace that came from years of military training. He was wearing cargo pants and a black t-shirt that stretched across his chest, and Charlie’s mouth went dry.
Get it together.
He walked around to the passenger side and opened the door, stepping back to give the woman inside plenty of space. Even from this distance, Charlie could see the way he made himself smaller, less threatening. The woman—Shelly—climbed out slowly, looking exhausted and scared.
Ben’s hand hovered near her elbow, ready to steady her if she needed it but not touching without permission. The gesturewas so gentle, so careful, that Charlie felt something twist in her chest.
He’s one of the good ones.
Kyle stepped forward with Camo at his side. Shelly’s attention immediately went to Camo. She knelt and smiled as she scratched his ears.
“Kyle has fantastic instincts,” Charlie said.
George nodded beside her. “We’ll give ’em a few minutes to settle into the conference room. Better leave the other pups here for now.” He looked at Flo and Pete, curled up beside each other in the corner but alert to every word and movement.
Charlie and Shane agreed as they watched the three of them head inside, Charlie painfully aware of Shane studying her. He’d poked fun at her more than once, implying that she had a crush on Ben—which she vehemently denied. Charlie blanked her expression. Shane had even offered to set them up once, but she shut that down immediately. She didn’t need her teammate to set her up on a pity date.
As they approached the conference room, Charlie heard Shelly talking.
“But Dex is a cop,” Shelly said. “Won’t they protect him?”
“Not if I have anything to say about it,” George said as he walked in.
Ben’s gaze landed on Charlie for just a second—long enough for her breath to catch—before moving to Shane, then George, then back to Shelly.
Professional. Focused.
