“So that’s where we stand.” Scott watched her sip ginger tea he had gone out and gotten, along with a few other items like crackers, bouillon, and bananas. “X makes the next move or it’s over for now.”
Cole leaned back against a pile of pillows. He had added his bed pillows to her stack. He watched her with troubled eyes. She was too pale but she’d stopped hurling and wouldn’t even entertain the idea of a trip to a doc-in-a-box. “I don’t think it’s over with X, do you, Scott?”
“No. That’s why I’ve been doing some reconnaissance the last few nights.”
“Is that militaryspeak for staking out our apartment from your truck all night?”
He looked grim. “I do what’s necessary.”
“Then you might have warned me away from El Ptomaine.”
“I never ate there before, either.”
“And you didn’t get sick. I hate you.”
Scott smiled at her. It wasn’t an important conversation. It was an ordinary conversation, the kind millions of couples had every day. Hope clutched his heart.
He moved a swath of hair back from her brow. “Next time, I’ll be sick. Okay?”
Cole tossed back the sheet. “I have to walk Hugo. And he hasn’t practiced the Weave today.”
“He’s been walked and fed. Guess it’s my turn to try the Weave.”
Cole opened her mouth and then shut it. Hugo and Scott practicing the Weave. This could be fun.
When she had instructed him on how to set the poles up Scott nodded. “I’m leaving Izzy here with you. She’s not Hugo but she’s trained to protect and track, as well as do drug detection. Where’s your weapon?”
When she pointed to the bedside-table drawer, he pulled it out, checked to see if it was loaded. He put it down without comment. “So, you’re good for now?”
She nodded. “I’m good. We’ve sort of worked this out, haven’t we? I mean with the dogs.”
“Yeah. With the dogs.”
He had a hard-on that made it tough to walk when she was around but he wasn’t a complete asshole. She was ill. He wouldn’t take advantage of her weakened state to wring a concession out of her.
“Thanks for nothing,” he muttered to his conscience.
A minute later Cole heard Scott’s command voice. “Hugo! Where’s my shoe? And while you’re at it, find my keys. Keys. Such!”
Cole snuggled down in the pillows with a big fat grin. Yes, her boys were learning to play nice.
*
An hour later Cole saw the look on Scott’s face as he came in with Hugo. “What’s wrong?”
“Lattimore called. He read our report. He wants to see us in the morning.”
“Oh.” Cole knew what that meant. Their undercover work could be over.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
“I’m not convinced.” Lattimore tapped the report displayed on his computer screen. “Just because you haven’t turned up any evidence at the Collier home doesn’t mean their smuggling business isn’t taking place somewhere else. As you pointed out, Officer Jamieson, Mrs. Collier is very protective of her children. She may not want them exposed.”
“Yes, sir.” Cole sat on her urge to defend Shajuanna. That wasn’t her job.
“So I’m continuing your undercover assignment. Are there any questions? Issues?”
“Sir, Hugo needs a rest. I’m concerned about him training to compete constantly.” Cole didn’t glance at Scott because she hadn’t mentioned this to him.
“Is he injured?”
“No, sir. But he wouldn’t let that stop him if I put him in the ring. That’s why I’d rather not push him this weekend.”
Lattimore studied the computer screen before him. “That might be helpful. If you’re not competing, you can concentrate on making friends, getting to know more about the persons traveling for Agility competitions on a regular basis. Our smugglers aren’t operating in a vacuum. They have contacts, messengers.”
He fell silent, letting his fingers play over the keyboard as he seemed to be debating something. He was a man who adhered to the on-a-need-to-know protocol. “We’re doing DNA on the puppy found in New Hampshire. The AKC has begun collecting voluntary DNA profiling for their registered animals. We might get lucky and find its lineage in their records.”
“Have we tried DNA matching with the slaughtered animals, sir?”
“No, Agent Lucca. We didn’t know about the profiling service until the vet in New Hampshire mentioned it. We are, of course, doing so now. But there’s every chance, since it’s a voluntary system, that the smugglers aren’t among those to register their dams and sires. In any case, you will continue undercover while we track backward from the New Hampshire incident.”
“Yes, sir.” Cole and Scott spoke together, more than ready to be out of there.