LITMIR.BIZ

       Chapter 1

      In her office at the Red Ridge K9 Training Center, Danica Gage finished the reports for the day and shut down her computer. From the kennels, she heard the faint whining of the newest arrivals, two Belgian Malinois puppies. At three months old, they were beginning their journey to become working dogs. Danica loved this first stage when the goal was to teach a dog basic obedience and uncover the inherent strengths.

      Whenever new dogs arrived, they were often lonely from leaving their mother and littermates, and uncertain about the new surroundings. This pair was no exception. The staff always scheduled an overnight trainer to supervise and ease the transition. Working these shifts, just her and the dogs and the expansive quiet of the South Dakota nights, gave Danica a deep sense of peace and purpose.

      The puppies had been snuggled together when she’d been in the kennels half an hour ago to give a fully trained protection dog named Nico one last walk for the night. Also a Malinois, he was solid black and all the more intimidating for it. At this stage of his precise training, he was allowed only limited contact with a few members of the staff while he waited for the assignment of a permanent handler. Danica hoped it didn’t take long. Nico was one of the smartest dogs she’d had the privilege to support and he needed to get to work. With his inherent pride and defensive drive, the dog would be an asset to any handler or security team.

      She opened the door between the offices and the kennels and the whining turned to a keening plea. She smiled as the puppies scrambled to the front gate. Other dogs nearby woke to the noise, but only one or two gave any verbal reaction when they saw Danica. The puppies, however, were wide awake and ready to go. Typical of their breed, this pair was bright and eager, their intelligent eyes gleaming from dark-masked faces. The tan fur still had plenty of puppy-fluff in it and on the rare occasions when they were still, she indulged in petting the soft coats.

      She gave the command to sit, something dogs were expected to do whenever a trainer came to their kennel. Both puppies hesitated, but were too excited to completely comply. At this point, seeing them hesitate at the command was a sign of progress. They wriggled through the first available space as the gate opened and she let them rush out at her. After slipping a lead over each fuzzy head, she ushered them past the row of other dogs in various states of curiosity and out into the backyard.

      Outside, she let the puppies off their leads and gave the command to relieve themselves. Not a difficult command for them to obey and she praised them repeatedly. The positive reinforcement paved the way for successful training. She let them romp and wrestle, burning off a little energy so they’d sleep well until morning. Once the puppies were tucked in after this outing, Danica had a mystery novel waiting for her in the office that she was eager to dive into.

      The night was clear and cool, and stars dotted the midnight-velvet sky above the dense trees that backed the training center. Born and raised in Red Ridge, she never tired of the quiet, removed atmosphere. The modest city had every convenience and Danica felt safe here, and apart from the troubles of more populated areas.

      More than a few of her friends had raced out of Red Ridge almost as soon as high school graduation was over. She didn’t understand it. Danica’s roots were inexorably tied to this northwestern corner of the state. She’d known at an early age that her affection for and loyalty to the area would weather any storm, be it a flood of the typical minutiae of life in a small city, a winter blizzard or the current drama of a murder spree that had started with her brother.

      Grief wasn’t anything new to Danica or her family. As Grandpa Gage often said, the key to living was being courageous enough to find and pursue the joyful moments. In the case of losing her brother, she found joy in the memories and by moving forward in the K9 work they both enjoyed. Finding her life’s work right here at the training center, a source of city pride, had given her a new dream when her first goal to join the police force had been crushed. As a Gage working on the periphery of law enforcement, she had more freedom and less of an uphill battle against the lingering skeletons rattling around in her family’s closet.

      She softly called the puppies back to her. For the next year, she would train these two on the basic tasks every dog should know and all working dogs were required to master. Additional training would follow, according to the type of service or task the dog would provide. Danica knew many of the Malinois wound up as security and protection dogs like Nico, capitalizing on their natural strengths and instincts.

      Despite the late hour, the puppies were making the most of the outing. At this age, they could be indulged a bit. She had to smother her laughter at their antics. After slipping the leads back on them, she urged them toward the kennel door and heard the snap of a twig somewhere close. Turning toward the woods that backed up to the training center, she called out. “Hello?”

      A heavy silence from the deep shadows answered her, interrupted by a sudden flurry of barking from the puppies. They tugged at the ends of the leads, trying to get to the fence. Someone was out there, though it wasn’t the right time of day or the right season for a hunter. Probably kids on a dare, she thought, willing herself to remain calm. “Who’s there?”

      She was safe in the yard, behind the five-foot privacy fence and the locked gate. Trying to get the puppies to the kennels became more of a challenge as they were convinced there was something to see. Her nerves getting the better of her, Danica reined in the puppies and hurried toward the open door of the kennel.

      She’d taken only a step or two when someone grabbed her from behind. One heavy hand clamped over her mouth. She struggled, pushing and pulling up on the forearm, ducking her chin so she could shout for help or even bite. It was no use. A moment later, she felt a sting at her neck and her legs went limp immediately. She fell to the ground in a boneless puddle and watched the stars overhead wink out as blackness swamped her vision. She heard the whimper of the puppies, felt them head-butting her arms, but she couldn’t move.

      * * *

      Shane Colton and his K9 partner Stumps, a talented Pembroke Welsh corgi, were taking a long late-night walk. Shane needed the clear night air to think, and walking worked out the kinks after the long drive. They’d just returned to Red Ridge after spending several days on the road, running down a potential lead in an ongoing illegal firearms case for his cousin Finn Colton, chief of the Red Ridge Police Department K9 Unit.

      Shane wished he could say the trip had been productive. On the department payroll as a private investigator/informant rather than a police officer, he had a little more leeway with how he collected information for a case. Everyone in local law enforcement had noticed an increase in criminal activity and nearly everyone suspected two brothers, lifelong residents of Red Ridge, were at the heart of the trouble.

      Noel and Evan Larson, identical twins, had been a year ahead of him in school and had been raised by their grandmother, Mae Rose, after their parents were tragically killed in a car accident. No matter what the RRPD did, they couldn’t connect the recent criminal activity with the Larson twins. Despite suspicions, no one they’d arrested so far would name the twins and no one in law enforcement dared to embarrass Mae Rose. The softhearted and generous widow was a beloved and respected fixture in town.

      Despite their best effort, neither he nor Stumps had found any indication that the Larson brothers had been present at the site where the guns had been delivered. Though Shane had never cared much for the twins, he refused to express a public opinion on a case based on suspicion alone. There was either solid evidence to bring in a suspect or there was more work to do. That black-and-white philosophy had served him well since day one of his career as an investigator.

      Shane handled his own investigations in addition to working cases for the

Скачать книгу