Page 3 of K-9 Guardians

He shoved through the double freezer-like doors separating the morgue from the rest of the building and hit something solid on the other side. Red hair and a whole lot of tactical gear consumed his attention as the woman fell back from the impact.

King shot his hand out, catching hers to soften the blow. But the weight of her gear dragged him down with her. They landed on the tile floor with a smack. Pain ignited into his palm and through his wrist as he ended up pinning her against the floor. His breath shot free from his chest. “Oh, hell. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize there was anyone of the other side of the door.”

“You certainly know how to make an exit.” She grabbed for the back of her head, pulling her hand back as though looking for blood. Three lines cut across the bridge of her nose in a wince. Right before she set intensely clear eyes on him. “You’re welcome to get off of me anytime.”

“Oh, right.” King shoved to stand. Heat flared into his neck as he replayed the past few seconds over in his head. Nope. There was no rewriting this. No matter how many different ways he imagined it. Offering his hand to help her stand, he threaded the other through his hair. “Didn’t realize the zombie apocalypse was already here. I should’ve come more prepared.”

She didn’t bother taking his hand as she got to her feet. Recentering her vest, she checked to ensure her sidearm was still holstered. A SIG Sauer. Preferred military issue. Instinct had him filling in the blanks. Without any military bases this far into the desert, there was only one conclusion to come to. She worked for Socorro Security.

Wide almond-shaped eyes lined with black and framed by perfectly shaped eyebrows landed on him. “Sorry?”

“Your gear. The morgue.” King hiked a thumb over his shoulder toward the swinging doors he’d effectively used to ruin her day. “This is as good a place as any to make sure there aren’t any walking dead wandering around.” Another wave of embarrassment undermined his social skills. King offered his hand. “Agent King Elsher. DEA.”

She took his hand. Not at all as soft as he’d expected. As though she spent every day in the field rather than protected by shiny glass bulletproof windows. “Scarlett Beam. Socorro. And I figure it’s better to be constantly alert for the zombie apocalypse rather than find myself in the middle of an ambush.”

His laugh took him by surprise. A woman after his own heart.

“I take it you’re here about the agent the cartel dropped off at my doorstep this morning,” she said.

Tightness he’d always associated with the excitement of a lead knotted behind his sternum. Followed quickly by the dread pooling at the base of his spine. King released her hand as the latter won out. Reality punctured through the ignorance of the past few minutes. Hell. What was he going to tell his son Julien about today? How was a ten-year-old supposed to deal with the fact Adam wasn’t going to be there anymore? “He was my partner. His name was Adam. Adam Dunkeld.”

“I’m sorry, Agent Elsher.” Sincerity laced the low register of her voice, and King suddenly had the thought of what his name would sound like on her lips. Which letter she would enunciate over all the others. “I’m sure you’ve read my statement Alpine Valley PD took at the scene. I’m here to check in with the medical examiner about any developments, but I’m happy to take a few minutes to answer any questions you might have.”

“You’re working the investigation.” This was what he needed. What would save him in the end. Partnering with Scarlett could exonerate him in more ways than one. Could help him keep his job. And, hell, he needed this job. Suddenly finding himself a father of a ten-year-old kid he hadn’t even known existed until two months ago came with a weight he hadn’t expected. Financially, mentally, emotionally. He was still sorting through the responsibilities of being a father and how to balance his job with the first taste of a personal life. Working cases for the DEA—working to bring down the evil that threatened people’s futures, like his son’s—drove him to be the man he was. The kind of man Adam had been.

“No. There is no investigation. At least, not from my end. Socorro is a lot of things, but murder falls to local police and federal agencies.” A shift in her weight told him how uncomfortable she was one-on-one. The kind of steel it took to be in the middle of the action—one that couldn’t ever be forged on the sidelines—didn’t like to stand still.

They were similar in that respect. He’d always been more inclined to get his hands dirty rather than push paperwork. Though now that he was approaching forty, past fractures and aches he’d acquired in the field took a bit longer to shake off.

“I just wanted...” She paused. “I wanted to know who he was. See how I could help the case.”

She was right about the investigation. The DEA would partner with local police to stay up to date on Adam’s murder, but ultimately, Alpine Valley PD would make every call and run every lead. Didn’t matter that it was a federal agent who’d landed on the other side of these double doors. Seemed King had jumped the gun assuming Socorro would want in on the action. “I appreciate it.”

“Did he have a family? Anyone waiting for him to come home?” Scarlett asked.

King had the urge to run for the door. To put as much distance between him and this place as he could. But running had never solved anything. And damn it, he was the reason Adam had been abducted and murdered in the first place. He owed his partner this. “Yeah. A wife, couple of kids, another one on the way.”

“The medical examiner usually contacts next of kin.” Scarlett nodded toward the big doors that’d taken her down. “But that’s why you’re here, isn’t it? You want to be the one to tell them what happened. So you asked the ME to hold off on the notification.”

How had she read him so easily? As though they’d known each other longer than a tackle to the floor and a potential concussion. “I was his partner,” he said again.

“I understand,” she said. “I’ve been where you are. Lost people I cared about.”

He had to do this. For Adam. For himself. Hell, for his son’s future where the cartel didn’t haunt their dreams. And there was only one way to do it. Through Socorro.

King closed the distance between them, lowering his voice. “Then you know I’m going to do whatever it takes to find the person who stabbed him. Official or not.”

She held her ground. Not the least bit intimidated by his intentions. A hint of curiosity filtered into her eyes. “All right, Agent Elsher. In that case, what can Socorro do for you?”

Chapter Two

She was going to catch hell for this.

Socorro was under scrutiny. Not only because of the past few weeks of media coverage that exposed a senator with a personal vendetta against her and her team but from the towns impacted by a military contractor’s presence. Seemed every move Socorro made to save lives put others in more danger by antagonizing the cartel.

But Scarlett believed in the work. In keeping Sangre por Sangre and organizations like it from swallowing this state whole. It was because of her and her team that the fire hadn’t burned out of control.

Picketers had set up beneath pop-up canopies of varying colors outside of Socorro’s headquarters. She spotted them even this far out, and her grip tightened on the steering wheel as they carved along the one-lane dirt road leading straight home. Protestors wanted Socorro out of New Mexico. Convinced Socorro had brought the cartel straight to their doorstep, but the truth was, Sangre por Sangre had been there all along. Waiting. Preying on the innocent. Biding their time to make their moves from the dark. Socorro had only exposed them for what they really were. A sleeping disease no one could diagnose until it was too late.

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