“Sure.” Kenzie had gotten her splint off last week and could manage now. Besides, she had nothing going on these days, no crazy lunchtime sex that made the rest of the afternoon float by. “How much accumulation are we expecting?”
“Up to six inches.”
It would be their first major snowstorm of the season. Colorado needed the moisture, and the ski resorts needed the snow.
Kenzie cleaned up the play yard, washed her hands, then played with the dogs—all except for Gabby, who sat by the door.
“You miss him, too, don’t you, Gabby girl?”
Gabby looked over at Kenzie with big brown eyes, her tail thumping against the floor at the mention of her name.
Kenzie let the other dogs out into the play yard, taking a few minutes to sit with Gabby, petting her, playing with her. Then she settled the puppy in her crate for a nap and started sweeping out kennels.
The door behind her opened, and she thought for a split second that Quinn was already back from her run.
The sound of a man’s voice made her jump.
“Are you Kenzie Morgan—the woman who trains search dogs?” A man with a baseball cap stood just inside the door, wearing a black down jacket and jeans. His jaw was covered with stubble, and there was the faint scent of wood smoke about him.
He held up a copy of the newspaper with her photo on it, his gaze moving around the room. “I read about you.”
“Yes, I’m Kenzie. Can I help you with something?”
“How good are dogs when it comes to finding people?” He glanced over his shoulder out the door.
“It depends on the…” Her heart gave a hard kick.
He had a gun—and he was pointing it straight at her. Where had that come from? “Which one of these dogs is yours? Which one found that dead woman?”
Oh, God! Oh, God!
She swallowed hard, willing herself to look calm. “You can aim that gun at me, but that won’t get you an answer. Why are you asking?”
He glanced over his shoulder again, clearly nervous. “I need your help finding someone, and if you don’t help me, I’ll shoot every damned dog in this place and you along with them.”
He aimed his gun at Gabby inside her crate.
Kenzie’s mouth went dry.
“I’ll help you.” She moved to stand between Gabby and the barrel of his gun, hands raised, heart slamming in her chest. “But only if you leave the dogs alone. Hurt even one of them, and you’ll have to kill me, and then who will help you? No one else around here does what I do.”
A part of her couldn’t believe what she’d just said, but she meant it. She would die before she’d let him hurt these dogs.
His eyes narrowed. “You’ve got a smart mouth for such a little lady.”
She glared at him. “And you’ve got despicable manners.”
He grinned. “Okay. I promise I won’t hurt you or the dogs. Now, which one found that dead chick? I need you and it to come with me.”
She didn’t want Gizmo anywhere near this son of a bitch, but what choice did she have? “Lower the gun, and I’ll call him in. You don’t need to point it at me. We both know you have it.”
Slowly, the bastard lowered the gun.
Kenzie walked over to the door that led to the play yard and called the dogs in. “Come here, Gizmo. Come here, boy.”
He whimpered, surely sensing her fear.
“I need to put the other dogs in their kennels.” Her mind raced, trying to figure out how she could pull out her cellphone and call 911.
