It was a text message from Jacob.
Mark’s gone AWOL again. Not answering calls. I’m worried about him.
Noah’s chest tightened. Mark had been different since quitting the Army—quieter, more withdrawn. Now this mysterious security job? Something was definitely up with his older brother, and that sat like a rock in Noah’s gut.
The Coltons looked out for each other. Always had. He’d moved back to Dark Canyon to be closer to his family. He should be more on top of what was going on with them.
“Sorry,” he told Kelly, ignoring her flirtatious smile. “Need to handle something with my brother. Give me five?”
Her disappointment was clear, but Noah was already moving toward the break area, typing out another message to Jacob:
Noah: Have you tried stopping by his place?
Jacob: He’s never there.
Noah: I’ll track him down this week.
He’d been so busy lately he hadn’t checked on Mark in person. That needed to change.
“Sorry,” he told Kelly, deliberately halting a solid six feet away from her as he pocketed his phone. “Family stuff. Where were we with the training sequence?”
Her smile dimmed slightly as she registered his distance, but at least she didn’t close the gap. “The crossing patterns?”
Dancer nudged his hand, grounding him like always. Noah was here to help with training issues, and he owed it to her to be present. He smiled in a way that hopefully conveyed,Never going to happen, without being too insulting.
She gestured to where her shepherd paced, eager to try again. “You were saying something about confidence.”
“Yeah. Watch how Dancer processes each intersection.” He set up a new pattern, more complex this time. “See how he slows down, really works the scent before committing? That’s what we want to build.”
The next hour passed in a blur of demonstrations and adjustments. Kelly’s shepherd began to show improvement, his movements becoming more deliberate as he gained confidence. When the training sequences grew a little more rote, Noah left her and her dog to run through their paces solo, which allowed his mind to wander back to those old case files still buried in his laptop.
A few years ago in Colorado, a woman was found in hiking territory wearing city clothes. The official ruling had been accidental death, but something about the scene had never sat right with him. He’d started digging, found similar cases in Utah and Wyoming, but his mom had gotten sick before he’d finished that story.
“Earth to Noah.” Steve’s voice broke through his thoughts. “We’re breaking for lunch. You coming?”
“No, I’ve got a few things to catch up on.” Like the article currently stuck on a blinking cursor because he couldn’t focus on basic training protocols when his brain kept spinning bigger stories. “Thanks though.”
After Steve and the others left, Noah pulled up his notes. Maybe if he approached it from a different angle. Write about how working with new teams kept the training fresh. But his fingers had their own ideas, opening that folder of old articles instead.
The similarities were there. He wasn’t imagining them. The clothing, the locations, the careful positioning that looked just a little too perfect.
Dancer’s head settled on his knee with a soft whine. That dog would be an excellent therapy dog if he ever lost his desire to hunt. But for now, he played the part of Noah’s best friend exceptionally well.
Movement near the main building’s entrance caught his eye. Officer Sabrina West strode out of the police department, her purposeful energy drawing his attention like a magnet. Even from this distance, he could see the fierceness and sheerpresencethat had hooked him yesterday.
“Dancer, heel,” he called automatically, launching himself out of his chair to stride toward Officer West before she vanished again.
As he strode toward the parking lot, the lab fell into perfect heel position because, unlike his handler, he actually had some chill. Noah tried to moderate his pace to something that didn’t scream,Desperately chasing after a woman, but he had a feeling he wasn’t quite pulling it off.
She must have sensed him coming because she glanced over her shoulder well shy of the first row of cars. Intense blue eyes locked on him, her smile edged with something he’d like to callpleasure.
She was happy to see him.
And he liked being the one to put that expression on her face.
“Officer West,” he called, letting his own pleasure lace the phrase with warmth. “Fancy meeting you here.”
“So, this wasn’t an ambush?” she asked, amusement practically dripping from her voice. “The way you came after me felt very focused.”
