Page 31 of Trap ’N’ Trace

Kat smiled sadly. “While we cleaned out the kennels, we talked about all kinds of things. Gardening, flowers, and dogs, of course.”

The piles of food and flowers had all been from Kat. And she cleans kennels?

“Will we see you at the wake on Saturday?” Michael asked.

“Of course.” She gave Luke and Tommy quick hugs. “You guys take care of each other.”

They said their goodbyes then headed outside. Remy’s head appeared at the open window. He opened the passenger side door for Kat, but instead of getting right in, she paused to give Remy a sound scratching behind her ears. She buried her face in Remy’s neck and wrapped her arms around his dog. Her upper body heaved with a sigh, then she released Remy and got into the truck.

As he rounded the hood of the SUV, again he was struck by what an enigma this woman was. Filthy rich, yet generous, caring, and sensitive to the needs of others. She wasn’t hung up on status, and he liked that about her.

He reached for the door handle then froze. Two blocks away, a blue vehicle sat at a stop sign, unmoving. No oncoming traffic in either direction. There could be twenty reasons why the car didn’t take off, but Dayne’s heart thumped faster, and adrenaline shot through his system just the same. The vehicle was too far away to see the driver’s face, and the angle wasn’t right to read the tag.

Every muscle in his body tightened. Seconds later, the car drove straight through the intersection. Curiosity—and a healthy dose of suspicion—had him wanting to give chase, but it was probably nothing.

After getting into the SUV, he took in Kat’s somber expression and swore inwardly. He needed to keep his shit together and not get sidetracked. If he allowed that to happen, he wouldn’t be able to do his job, and there could be another family minus a loved one.

The Vandenburg family.

Chapter Nine

Kat stole occasional glances at Dayne as they drove back down the Palisades Parkway to the Orangetown Police Department. Since leaving Amy’s house, he hadn’t said a single word, not even to give her another bossy FBI directive.

“Is anything wrong?” she asked.

He frowned. “You mean, aside from the fact that Tommy and Luke’s mother was murdered by some motherfu—homicidal maniac? No.” His thick forearms bunched and rippled as he gripped the wheel tighter.

Contrary to his words, he wasn’t great. That much was clear, even if he wouldn’t admit it. As if sensing his mood, Remy rested her muzzle on the ledge.

There’d been a moment back at the house, albeit a fleeting one, when the emotions on his face and in his body language had given him away. He was grieving, but he was so strong and confident it was easy to forget that, like her, he’d also lost a close friend. “Don’t you want to say something bossy and controlling?” She smiled, hoping to crack through that thick armor shell he wore like a second skin.

Dayne snorted. “Maybe later.” He rewarded her with the slight upturn of his mouth.

She hated seeing anyone in pain. Cops and federal agents were always portrayed on TV and in movies as a tough breed that never confessed their inner feelings. Not to a virtual stranger, anyway. She didn’t want them to be strangers. Quite the opposite.

“I know I said I wouldn’t pry into your personal life again, but—”

“Go for it.” He slowed the vehicle as he took the exit for Orangeburg.

That was easier than she’d expected. “You said you didn’t know your father, and your mother died when you were just a boy. Who took care of you?”

“When I was twelve, a great family adopted me. I was the luckiest kid on the planet.” He guided the SUV into the police station, a large two-story brick building with an American flag whipping back and forth on a pole.

“Wait, you said your mother died when you were ten. Where were you for the two years before you were adopted?”

He parked in the lot reserved for police personnel. “Some of that time I spent in the system. Mostly, I lived on the street.”

She widened her eyes. “You lived on the street? As a ten-year-old?” How was that possible in this day and age? Her heart went out to the little boy Dayne used to be. She couldn’t imagine being so young and so alone in a big city. “How did you survive?”

He shoved the gearshift into park and stared straight ahead. “I wasn’t alone. I—” He shook his head, as if to clear it. “We need to get inside.”

She pressed her lips together, wishing he wouldn’t shut her out and wondering why she cared so much that he had.

After cranking on the AC, he shoved open the driver side door then came around to her side. Remy uttered a mournful whimper as Dayne clicked the locks shut.

“Will she be okay in there?” Kat glanced over her shoulder to see Remy’s nose pressed to the window, leaving a wet rosette on the glass.

“As long as the AC’s on.” He hustled her to the station steps, looking in all directions and casting one last glance behind them before they went inside.