Page 9 of K-9 Guardians

“You have to deliver a lot of bad news in your line of work?” It was a stupid question and completely on the line of procrastination. He couldn’t avoid the call forever. At this point, he was just making excuses.

“No, but I’ve been on the receiving end more times than I can count.” Scarlett maneuvered through the neighborhood surrounding his son’s elementary school as though she’d been here before. “We’re here. Where is your son waiting?”

King sat up straighter in his seat, all thoughts of his partner’s family draining as he searched for his own. Checking the time, he confirmed they weren’t much later than his normal arrival. There were still a couple kids hanging around on the playground equipment soaking up a few more minutes with friends. Parents waiting in vehicles too. “He’s supposed to be at the corner. Probably went into the office to wait. I’ll be right back.”

He shouldered out of the vehicle and jogged to the double glass doors beside the kindergarten area. The first layer of doors opened without issue, but he had to be buzzed into the office. He waited until the administrator unlocked the barrier. “Hi, I’m here to pick up Julien Roday. I’m his dad, King Elsher.”

“Oh. There must’ve been some kind of mix-up on your end,” she said. “Julien was checked out a couple hours ago.”

No. That wasn’t right. “Checked out? By who?”

The administrator collected the clipboard from her desk and handed it off. “By his mother.”

Chapter Four

The water bottle exploded on impact mere inches from her face as she and King waited in a conference room off the school’s main office.

Droplets sprayed out from the impact zone against the wall and attached to her skin, but she wouldn’t wipe them away. They were evidence of a man’s descent into desperation. She needed them to keep her focused.

King’s son had been kidnapped.

Her heart rate hit a high point as he turned to face whoever had come through the door. Ready to unleash all that burning rage on the nearest unsuspecting witness. His shoulders hiked with tension, almost painful to look at, but in a split second, the anger drained.

King sank into one of the chairs around the too-small conference room. Nothing like Socorro’s. Not in size, at least, but the work done in this space was just as important to the families that needed this school. “They took my son, Scarlett.”

“We’re going to find him.” It was easy to match his tone. Her chest felt too tight at the thought of someone coming in here, claiming to be Julien’s mother and walking away with King’s son in order to punish a man for doing his job. Hadn’t he been through enough? “The administrator at the front desk checked the woman’s ID when she requested to check him out. She remembers the name matched Eva’s. But it looks as though when the school in Washington, DC, transferred his records, there was no note about Eva’s death. Her name is still attached to his records. I sent the district the death certificate to have that information changed.”

That was all she could think to do while King raged. The principal had contacted the police. Officers were searching the school property and the surrounding neighborhood, but whoever took Julien wouldn’t stick around. They wanted him for something, and it would be hell to get him back.

“He’s ten years old.” The strangled words sounded practically forced from his throat.

And she understood that. The amount of effort it took to confront your greatest fear. To realize that despite your training, you were absolutely powerless when the people you loved were in danger.

“He deserves to have a ten-year-old life,” King said. “Obsessing about every sport known to man, begging me to stay up late, losing brain cells on his tablet, hanging out with friends. Not this.”

Scarlett moved to close the distance between them. Slower than she wanted to. Heat climbed into her neck as she pulled out the chair next to his and took a seat. A tremor shook through one hand as she reached out for his, enfolding it in her palms.

His skin was warmer—hot even—and rough with dryness from spending most of his days in the desert with a gun in his grip. But soft in other places, like the webbing between his fingers. She latched on, mostly for her own stability as this entire partnership threatened to fall apart. “Is there a chance the cartel knows Julien was there the night his mother was killed?”

“I asked the investigating detective to keep Julien out of all the reports because he was a minor.” King stared down at his hand, as though he couldn’t comprehend how he’d ended up here in this elementary school conference room with her when he was supposed to be out there looking for a connection between two past partners’ murders. “You read the file. There’s no mention of his name.”

“Then we need to assume taking Julien is meant to be a warning to you.” Air stalled in her chest as she internally braced for what came next. “Just as Adam Dunkeld was.”

Surprise mixed with a hint of that anger as King leaned back in the chair. His hand went with him, leaving a streak of heat in her palms. “Muñoz. That son of a bitch. He’s got to be the one behind this.” Another shift wrecked the determination that flared in his eyes, gutting Scarlett in an instant. “Adam was missing for three days before he turned up dead at your doorstep.”

And yet Eva Roday was murdered in her own home. There hadn’t been an abduction. No grace period for law enforcement to play catch-up.

“King, if you’re right about Muñoz being behind Eva’s death, I think it’s safe to say if the cartel learns Julien witnessed his mother’s murder that night, he doesn’t have that kind of time.” She didn’t want to put a countdown clock on this case, but they had no other choice.

“He’s all I’ve got left, Scarlett. He’s the only thing that matters. All of this—working for the DEA, running that investigation on the side—I was doing it for him. To protect him.”

The defensiveness she’d come to expect from King since he’d inserted himself into her life this morning wasn’t there anymore. He’d been stripped of his armor by a ten-year-old, and there was nothing she could do about it. No security patch could fix this. She had no backup plan in place.

He brought his gaze to hers, the whites of his eyes reflecting the harsh fluorescent lights overhead. “And now they have him.”

“We’re going to get him back. Alive,” she said. “I give you my word.”

“Don’t do that.” The fire she’d witnessed behind all that devastation exploded. He shoved out of his chair, letting the wheels crash into the table leg. “Don’t promise me something you have no intention of following through on, Scarlett. Because this is my son. This is my life, and if I lose him because your word isn’t good enough, I will spend the rest of my life making you pay. You understand? So think very carefully about what you’re promising me.”

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