“He’s a cop?” Matt demanded, his expression turning grim.
“Yes.” She could already tell that he didn’t want to believe her. “When I heard them arguing, I called 911 and gave the dispatcher my sister’s address. Then I took off with Rory.”
“So why the Amber Alert?”
Rory had fallen asleep, the bottle just about empty, so she pulled it away and set it aside. “I don’t know. I can only assume that David somehow convinced his cop buddies that I’m the one who killed Jill and took Rory. Which doesn’t make any sense.”
He snorted in derision. “I’ll say. Even a rookie would have a hard time buying that story. There has to be something else going on.”
She clenched her jaw. “I don’t know what else is going on. You saw that David had a gun, didn’t you? And he took a slice out of Duchess. What more do you want from me? I can’t tell you what I don’t know!”
Rory shifted restlessly in her arms, and she mentally berated herself for raising her voice. Rory shouldn’t have to listen to her arguing with a cop. He’d had enough exposure to violence in his short life.
She let out a sigh and stroked the tip of her finger over his plump cheek. Now that Jill was gone, it would be up to her to take care of Rory. To raise him as her own.
To love him.
She swallowed a sense of panic. Okay, she didn’t know much about babies, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t take a crash course to learn.
Lacy silently promised to give Rory the stable life he deserved.
* * *
Matt didn’t understand why he was so captivated by Lacy taking care of Rory. He came from a large family, sure, but he wasn’t like his two eldest brothers, Marc and Miles, who’d both married women with children.
Truthfully, he’d gone down that path with devastating results. He’d begun dating a divorced woman named Debra who had a four-year-old daughter, Carly. He’d been about to propose when Carly had gotten sick and had been diagnosed with a rare form of lethal cancer. During the next few months, he’d been forced to watch the child he’d come to love die a horrible death. On top of that, the crisis had caused Debra and her ex-husband, Kyle, to grow close again. After Carly’s death, Debra had broken up with Matt, claiming she and Kyle were going to reunite.
Logically, he knew he should have been happy for them, but he’d felt Carly’s loss as keenly as they had. Losing a child, even one who wasn’t his by blood, had been the most painful thing he’d ever experienced. Debra’s rejection afterward hadn’t helped.
When Debra walked away, he’d decided it was easier to avoid romantic entanglements and to focus on his career. Dogs were better than people any day of the week. He’d loved K-9 training, and Duchess made the best partner he could have imagined. He still had the closeness he shared with his twin, Maddy, and was truly happy she’d found love with his former partner, Noah Sinclair.
Using the rearview mirror, he kept a close eye on his partner. If his gaze strayed on occasion to Lacy and the baby, he quickly caught himself and looked away. He didn’t need to keep an eye on his passengers, as Duchess seemed to be enthralled by the woman and the baby in the back seat.
Or maybe his partner instinctively knew to offer her protection.
He grappled with Lacy’s allegation that the dark-haired guy was a police officer. He could easily find out for sure, but he was loath to use his radio. He’d bought them a little time, but he couldn’t postpone the inevitable forever. Now that he knew about the Amber Alert, he would have to take Lacy and Rory into custody so she could provide her side of the story.
In his gut, he believed she was telling the truth. But he also knew that David’s being a cop would make things a lot more difficult.
Her word against that of a police officer.
He didn’t like it.
Even worse, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to continue investigating the case. In theory, once he handed her over, his role in this mess would be finished. The case would be given to one of the homicide detectives, not a K-9 officer.
The thought was depressing. Matt didn’t want to become attached to the little guy, but at the same time, he worried about what would happen to him. The kid was the real innocent victim here. Would he end up in foster care?
Maybe, but it was likely a whole lot better than ending up with his father.
The lights from the emergency veterinary clinic loomed up ahead, so he turned in that direction.
He and Duchess had only been there once before, and that was related to another on-the-job injury. Some perp had kicked Duchess in the head and he’d panicked, fearing she had suffered some sort of brain injury. She’d been fine, and he was determined she would get through this latest injury without complications as well.
After parking the SUV, he jumped out and went around to the back to get Duchess. She lifted her head, her tail thumping in greeting, but he could tell by the way she was acting that the wound along her side hurt.
“It’s okay, girl. I have you.” He scooped the animal into his arms—no small feat since she was a solid German shepherd weighing in at eighty pounds, hefty for a female.
She licked his face again and he used his elbow to close the back hatch. As he rounded the corner of the SUV, he realized that Lacy had gotten out of the vehicle with Rory swaddled against her. She held the door to the clinic open for him.
“Thanks,” he said, carrying Duchess inside.
“You’re welcome.” She surprised him again by following him into the building.
He supposed it was better for her to be inside the building since her brother-in-law was looking for her.It bothered him to think about her need to escape with Rory in the middle of the night.
He focused on Duchess. Blood was seeping through the dressings he’d applied, so he looked around for someone to talk to. “I need some help here,” he said in a loud tone.
The veterinary assistant came out of the back, then hurried over. “What happened?”
“This is my K-9 partner. She was cut by a sharp object,” he said. “The laceration is roughly six inches long.”
“This way.” The assistant led the way through a door into a small exam room.
He eased the dog down on the stainless steel table, disconcerted to realize that Lacy had followed him again. Why her actions distracted him, he had no idea. Maybe on some level, he expected her to take off with the baby. In fact, he couldn’t even say he would blame her if she did.
But she didn’t.
The vet, a tall man who appeared to be in his early fifties, entered the room. After washing his hands in the corner sink, he approached Duchess. “I’m Dr. Hogan. Do you have any idea what was used to cause the laceration?”
“No, it was dark. I assume a knife, but couldn’t say for sure.” Matt stayed near Duchess, holding her in place, stroking the soft fur between her ears reassuringly. “Her name is Duchess and she’s a K-9 officer.”
“Hi, Duchess.” The vet spoke in a soothing voice. He glanced at Matt. “I assume