He debated only a moment. He shouldn’t be driving. He had planned to spend the night in the parking lot. But he knew it would be too much provocation if the bikers found him still here when they came out. He’d move a few miles down the road, cautiously and opposite from the way they’d come, and find a safe place to sleep off his now dead but legally still active buzz.
He put his cruiser in gear and roared out of the parking lot. If they were going to come after him, he’d be ready.
*
“You plan on being shit for company all night?”
X didn’t reply to his companion. He hated conversation. Right now, he needed to think, hard.
Rhino was the guy’s biker name. Hollywood action-hero made-up shit. But weren’t all their names? Now he knew Rhino was a cop. Probably a narc.
Undercover narc.
He hadn’t spent the previous five years of his life eating shit and living like a coyote to lose it all to a city kitty rookie with a hard-on for his first bust. He owed that prick.
X stared half interestedly at the young woman over by the bar in a cowboy hat, as a plan formed. “I got the license plate. All I need is an address, and a little time.”
His partner shifted uncomfortably. “We’re seeing our way into some real cash for a change. Don’t need no cop-killer bounty on our heads.”
“I don’t plan on killing him.”
“What then?”
X smiled and it was like watching a corpse come to life.
CHAPTER ONE
“Here you go. One good bite deserves another.”
K-9 Officer Nicole “Cole” Jamieson placed the doggy bowl on her kitchen floor.
Her partner, Hugo, greedily gulped down the first of his two daily meals then checked her out with a hopeful stare from soulful black eyes.
Cole shook her head. “No more for now.”
Hugo’s ears drooped as he came forward and nudged his big heavy head under her hand.
Cole squatted down and scratched under his chin and then behind his ears. “Okay. You’ve earned it. But only one.” She stood and reached for the jar of dog treats she kept handy for special occasions.
Hugo scarfed down the treat without even bothering to chew then jumped up against her, huge paws resting above her waist, to deliver a lick of thanks before turning toward the spacious dog kennel in Cole’s kitchen. Before he went in he looked back at her. She waited. Bouviers liked to think about things before they acted. When satisfied by whatever his doggy instincts were telling him, Hugo barked gruffly once and entered his crate.
The Montgomery County Police Department wasn’t initially impressed by her choice of a Bouvier des Flandres over the more popular law enforcement canine choices such as Belgian Malinois or German shepherd. But research backed her up when she had gone on the hunt for a self-motivated, hard-driving, even-tempered pup. When she’d found the six-month-old black brindled Bouvier with uncut ears but docked tail, he’d looked like a fuzzy puppy-faced teddy bear. But as he grew, he morphed into a powerfully built canine with an intimidating bark and a menacing set of teeth. Topping out at ninety-five pounds, Hugo was now a force to be reckoned with.
Cole yawned and reached into the fridge for a sports beverage and drank from the bottle. Usually she went straight to bed after a night shift. Today, she didn’t even have time to take a nap.
She glanced at the clock. Seven A.M. She had a job interview in Baltimore at ten A.M.
“Damn! I’m going to be late!”
She hurried toward the shower.
This is big. That’s the only hint her K-9 sergeant had given her when he told her about the interview. When the Drug Enforcement Administration approached local law enforcement agencies for manpower, it usually involved mounting a task force.
Visions of covert operations, undercover, and SWAT team takedowns danced through Cole’s thoughts, none of which calmed her nerves.
Forty-five minutes later, she came tearing back through the kitchen in full dress uniform. Her blue shirt and trousers had been professionally pressed, all starchy crispness and sharp pleats. Her boots reflected back the ceiling lights as stars. But her expression was anything but self-possessed professional as she lifted one end of a sofa cushion and then another. She was fretting over the possibility of being late.
“I just had them. I know—” She stopped talking to herself and turned back toward the kitchen, propping a fist on each hip. “Hugo. Come here.”
Moments later a big black shaggy head with a pink tongue appeared in the doorway.
“Where are my keys? Bring me my keys. Now.”
The big head disappeared. Twenty seconds later all of Hugo reappeared with keys hanging from his mouth.
Cole shook her head even as she made a come-here motion with her hand. “Hand them over.”
Hugo trotted over and put them in the palm of her hand, black eyes shining with pride. He sat and barked, ready to be praised.