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They came out on the fifth floor, and he assessed their surroundings. Only two other doors besides the stairwell entrance. Polly trudged to the one on the right and inserted her key into the dead bolt. Her neighbor across the hall had fake evergreen trees decked with orange ribbons from Halloween on either side of their door. Someone could hide behind one of those trees. With the elevator out, a perp could lie in wait on any floor.
But they’d have to get into the building first. They’d entered through a caged-off parking garage at street level with a key code or card swipe required. The lobby doors needed a card swipe or code as well. Polly had pushed them open to admit him. If someone was after her, they could convince a resident to let them in—or catch the security doors before they closed.
Man, he really was a paranoid SOB. But there was no denying the brown car tracking them or the way the driver had nearly run them down—either intentionally or in his haste to get away once spotted.
“We’re here,” Polly whispered, a little breathless from the climb. She pushed open the door. “Sorry about the stairs. Our new super is still learning the ropes around here, but he promises to get the elevator fixed before Thanksgiving.”
“Stairs are good exercise,” he admitted. “Though it would be better if each stairwell access point locked.”
She offered him a tired smile. “Now you sound like my dad. He doesn’t like me living alone now that my sister has moved out. But he still says this is one of the most secure buildings in this part of KC. Come on in.”
Heat flowed around him when he stepped inside. Before he could wipe his boots, Daniel heard yips of excitement and a dog frantically scratching the walls of her plastic crate. Polly locked the door and crossed to the large dog crate at the end of her kitchen counter. Pirate’s ears perked at the sound, and Daniel quickly put him into a sit. “Easy, boy.”
“Heads up,” Polly warned, a split second before a small white comet with black markings flew out of the crate and streaked through the living room, nails skittering on the wood floor, throw rugs spinning beneath her paws. She circled the room twice before charging back to Polly. Polly scooped up the pit bull puppy, laughing as the dog showered her chin with kisses. “I missed you, too, you big goober.” She turned the puppy’s dark eyes toward their guests and rubbed the large black spot above the dog’s right eye. “Meet Luna. She’s twenty pounds of terror, named after the half-moon-shaped spot on her forehead.”
The moment Luna calmed enough to focus on Daniel and Pirate, the puppy whined and squirmed to leap from Polly’s arms. Pirate froze, head cocked, like an old soldier assessing a newcomer, not sure what to do about the pup, who was less than half his size and more than twice as exuberant.
“It’s okay,” Daniel murmured, reaching down to pet Pirate. “Easy, boy.”
“Be gentle.” Polly lowered Luna to the floor. “Pirate’s a guest.”
Luna bounded over, tail a frantic pendulum. She gave Daniel’s boot a perfunctory sniff, then propped her front paws up against his thigh before turning her full attention to the bigger dog. Pirate dropped his head and offered a dignified sniff. The pup rose on her hind legs and licked the scarred side of his face with fearless adoration. Pirate accepted it with a long-suffering sigh, then flicked his ears and leaned forward to greet her with a slow, paternal lick that made Luna wiggle so hard her whole body curved into a comma.
“She’s not shy.” Polly grinned at the unnecessary warning. “That’s why I enrolled her in good citizen training at K-9 Ranch. She’s all muscle and still hasn’t grown into her paws yet. I want her to mind me before she gets to full size.” She smiled as the two dogs touched noses, sending Luna into a spasm of joy while Pirate sat up straighter beside Daniel. “Someday, I hope she’s as chill as Pirate. Maybe he’ll be a good influence on her.”
Daniel felt the tight place under his sternum loosen. “He’s still a puppy when it comes to snow. I think they’ll get along.”
“They’ll be besties by morning,” Polly predicted, crossing to the coat-tree beside the door to retrieve Luna’s leash. It had the familiar red and gold markings of the Kansas City Chiefs football team, matching the red collar around the puppy’s neck. “Let me run her out to the green spot across the street to do her business, then I can take a look at your injuries.”
“You’re not going out there by yourself,” he informed her. “In fact, you’re not going out there at all.” When she arched her eyebrows, he realized how bossy that sounded. “Sorry. I know I’m not in the Marines anymore, and you’re not under my command. But my instincts say to keep you out of sight. I want to check your place first, make sure it’s secure. After that, I’ll take both dogs out while you stay here.”
“We can both go.”
He stared at her long enough that she finally understood he had a plan to ensure her security. And it didn’t involve her taking her rambunctious puppy out to pee at this time of night.
With a deep sigh, she hung up the leash and shrugged out of her coat. “Fine. I’ll put down some newspaper in case she can’t last another ten minutes.” She hung her coat on the tree. Her cheeks were pink from the cold, and she looked up at him like he wasn’t a patchwork of shrapnel and mistakes. “Do your perimeter sweep. I’ve got an old quilt Pirate can curl up on. And I want to check your injuries, too. There’s blood on your jeans.”
Daniel agreed with a nod and unzipped his coat. Then he shook slush from Pirate’s purple-and-gray sweater—Mrs. Maynard’s knit job had kept most of the street spray off—and hung it with the leashes by the door. He released Pirate to sniff his new surroundings while the puppy followed, mimicking the big dog’s interest by stopping and touching her nose to all the same things Pirate did.
Polly’s place was surprisingly spacious, clean, but looked more comfortably lived-in than neat and tidy. A soft gray couch sat facing the row of windows that faced the street. A small quilt in blues and cream was tossed across the back of the couch. Another quilt, in autumn colors with Thanksgiving-themed silhouettes decorating each block hung on the wall behind a large-screen TV. A sewing machine sat on an old desk near the curtains at the front of the room, and a large metal table sat beside it. Baskets of material and sewing supplies covered the metal table and spilled onto the braided rug beneath it. An ironing board stood beside a floor lamp in the corner. The kitchen opened off the living space, separated by a granite-topped island with three stools sitting beneath the extended edge. There were dirty dishes in the sink, dog toys in a basket on top of the dog crate, and a short stack of mail on the counter. Beyond that, a hallway extended to an original brick wall where an iron-barred window at the end indicated a fire escape.
“Sorry for the mess. Long hours at work and a puppy keep me pretty busy.” She nodded toward the windows. “I quilt to decompress. I’ve been working on one as a Christmas present for my sister’s fiancé.”
Smart. Creative. Compassionate. Funny. Skilled nurse. Gorgeous blond hair. A flair for color. Polly Cooper was a lot more complex than her quiet demeanor let on. And Daniel was enjoying getting to know her, probably more than he should. He could easily imagine how his demons could infect and tarnish her caring, colorful world. But no matter how badly he wanted to be a part of that world, he wouldn’t do that to her.
He was here to keep her safe—not to save himself.
Squashing his growing fascination with the woman, he moved toward the front windows. “I’ll start my security sweep.”
“I’ll grab the first aid kit.” Polly slipped past him down the short hall, Luna trotting at her heels. Pirate followed, curious to explore the rest of the place.
Daniel took that time to sweep the condo the way muscle memory demanded from his years of military training. He checked the windows—latches engaged, curtains drawn to keep anyone from seeing inside. He checked the fire escape at the end of the hallway—the window was locked, the bars across it secured. The bedrooms had a decent view over the street. He pinpointed a tavern about half a block up, on the far side of the alley that abutted the parking lot directly across the street. Its neon signs distorted the visages of the patrons huddling on the front sidewalk in the cold air for a smoke. The bus stop at the corner held the only other pedestrians he saw out in the chilly November night air. He noted the cars parked along the curbs on either side, and in the lot across the way. No brown sedan down below or passing by. Didn’t mean the perp wasn’t out there somewhere in the shadows beyond the streetlamps and traffic lights.
The fact that he didn’t see any imminent threat didn’t necessarily calm the agitation he felt. The tiny hairs at the back of his neck stood at attention, sensing that the danger stalking Polly was out there somewhere. Just because he couldn’t see the enemy, it didn’t mean he wasn’t there. Hadn’t he learned that the hard way on that last mission?
He checked the bathroom on the opposite side of the hall. It was small, clean, with two towels slung across the rod. Girlie stuff like lotion and hair clips sat in a basket beside her toothbrush holder on the counter. He checked under the beds, in every closet and behind every door, announcing, “Clear,” each time he found a room empty.
By the time he’d finished, Polly had set the first aid kit on the coffee table and changed into a pair of fuzzy turquoise slipper socks. She was arranging a worn, faded quilt on the rug at the end of the sofa for Pirate to curl up on. His partner eagerly took advantage of the soft spot, circling around three times and pawing at it before his bed was just right, and he lay down. Luna galloped out from the kitchen where she’d been enjoying a late snack and plopped down on the quilt beside him. Pirate’s flanks expanded with a heavy sigh, but he didn’t growl or chase the smaller dog away. Feeling welcome enough, Luna stretched out beside him and rested her chin on one of Pirate’s front legs.
