CHAPTER EIGHT
Yardley waited at passenger pickup in the Richmond International Airport for a brother she’d seen rarely in their adult lives. Until six months ago, it had been five years since they were last together. But there was no mistaking Lauray as he came through the exit doors.
She had to stifle a laugh. He held the leash of a dog that was exactly what he’d described, a cutesy rust-red mash-up of golden retriever and poodle with an enormous curling tail that, sure enough, reminded her of a Cheez Doodle. The contrast between man and dog couldn’t have been more startling. Wearing tan cargo pants and a dark-green tee that revealed the definition of a man in his prime, Lauray looked hard. Despite the beard and untamed black hair, he looked like a man in charge. Even with a froufrou dog on a leash.
As proof, a female flight attendant was hurrying along beside him to keep pace with his stride.
Yardley fell in behind them as they neared the baggage carousel in time to hear the flight attendant say, “So I’ll see you, later?”
Law wasn’t looking at his companion but slowly scanning the congested area full of impatient travelers. “I have your digits.”
The young woman’s wide smile faltered at the noncommittal answer. “Okay then.” She bent to pat the head of the dog he had on a leash. “Such a sweet dog. I hope you can find a good home for him.” She glanced up at Law, looking like she’d rather be petting him. “Bye.”
Yardley shook her head as the flight attendant walked away. Despite the threat to the female population, she was pleased to see the old Law back in business.
More curious about Law’s other companion, she turned her attention to his dog. Unlike many American canine breeders who focused as much on appearance as ability, Yardley took the European approach: Dogs were chosen for training based solely on their ability to perform a desired task.
The goldendoodle moved slowly but deliberately behind Law as he stood in the open waiting for his gear. It was the only clue that the shifting crowd of people in the congested area was agitating her master.
Yardley shifted her gaze to her brother’s profile. His neutral expression gave away nothing, as she expected from a trained law officer. She glanced back at the canine. Perceptive dog.
Sliding into his line of sight, she offered Law a sisterly assessment. “You look like hell. What’s with the survivalist beard?”
Law gave his sibling a quick once-over. “Nice to see you, too.”
Law knew he looked rough around the edges but he certainly couldn’t return the insult. His half sister had always been a stunner. Even dressed in jeans, a tailored shirt, and military boots, she still managed to look feminine. Her wide mouth and elegant cheekbones were striking, especially when paired with her no-nonsense gaze. Eyes, blacker than his, revealed their shared Native American genes through their respective mothers. Her long dark-red hair, today pulled into a ponytail, flagged the Cajun ancestry of their father.
Yardley bent down to dog level and spoke to Samantha. “Hi there, girl. My name’s Yardley.”
Samantha wagged her tail but looked back at Law for instruction. When he gave the signal, she stepped forward to be petted.
Yardley pulled a treat out of her pocket.
Samantha sniffed in the direction of Yardley’s palm but then backed up and sat down, leaning slightly against Law’s leg as she returned her attention to him.
Yardley stood and pocketed the treat, nodding in approval. “She’s been proofed. That’s unusual for a dog so young.”
“Checking my ability to judge the thoroughness of a canine’s instruction?”
“Maybe. Last time I saw you, you’d lost discipline and were getting fat.”
Law frowned down at her, thanks to the three-inch difference in their heights. “I was never fat.”
“Waddling, goosey-goose fat. Quack, quack, quack.” She imitated a goose walk, drawing laughter from a nearby child.
Law shook his head and lifted his gear off the carousel. “Let’s get out of here before you embarrass yourself even more.”
Yardley fell into step beside her brother. As they reached the exit doors they each reached for mirrored shades and donned them with movements that looked choreographed.
“What was that about you looking for a home for your dog?”
“Conversation.” Law sighed. Obviously she’d overheard his exchange with the flight attendant. Nothing got past Yard. He’d have to remember that.
Once in her jeep, Yardley turned to him. “Food?”
He nodded.
They ended up in a burger joint northwest of Richmond’s city limits. Once he found a table at the rear where he could position himself with his back to a wall, she ordered a burger without bread, and a salad. He ordered the half-pound bacon blue cheeseburger with a side of onion rings.
“Nice to see that you’re keeping your body clean.”