Page 3 of K-9 Justice

“Right.” Ivy hadn’t moved.

“What do you mean you had no other choice?” A heavy weight pinned him into his seat. Carson sat forward. This wasn’t likeher. Not the real her. Sure, she had to keep that legendary emotional armor in place when in the field and directing her team and Congress, but she didn’t need to do that with him. They were partners. Didn’t matter they were on two opposite ends of the spectrum at the moment. They would always be partners. “What happened?”

“One of my operatives is dead. Our physician.” Ivy disappeared behind the wall separating the living room from the kitchen, her heels echoing through the safe house. Her direction changed, farther down the hall as she swept the rest of the place for threats.

He wouldn’t take it personally. The things they’d seen as partners had nearly destroyed them. Any slipup, any mistake on their part, meant risking the very lives they were working to save.

“I’m sorry.” Carson shoved to stand with every intention of pulling Ivy into his arms, but she wouldn’t let herself slow down long enough for that to happen. Not now. “How?”

She slid back into his vision, holstering her weapon beneath the navy blue blazer that brought out the depth of emerald in her eyes. Ivy leaned into the wall, crossing her arms across her frame, and exhaustion caught up in her expression. “Did you know?”

“Know what?” he asked.

“That he was coming for me.” There was a bite in her voice. Accusation. “Our last case together. When three women were found dead in the middle of the desert with symbols carved into their backs. We caught up with the killer. We barely made it out of that house alive. He got away through an escape hatch that led beneath the house and emptied out onto the back of the property.”

“I remember the case, Ivy. The son of a bitch nearly killed you.” Where was she going with this? Why had she pulledhim out of the field? Why had she risked blowing his cover? To rehash an old investigation? “If it weren’t for that case, we wouldn’t have known aboutSangre por Sangreuntil it was too late.”

Sangre por Sangre.Blood for Blood. The cartel had clawed its way to the top of the food chain through brutality, abductions, underage recruitment, drugs and women. The organization demolished competitors and left nothing for police and the DEA to tie back to them. Socorro Security and Ivy’s team of private military contractors had been the only ones to ever get close enough to bringing the cartel to its knees. With him feeding her the information she needed to do it. NowSangre por Sangrewas on the run. Desperate to keep itself alive. Carson was close to identifying the head of the cartel.

“He’s been out there all this time, but no matter where I look, he’s a ghost. We agreed you would go undercover in the cartel to find him. I quit the FBI because I didn’t think the federal government could protect you as well as a private organization could, and I’ve kept my end of the deal. I built Socorro Security for you. You said you would find him, and we would end this. It’s been two years, Carson, and we’re as clueless as when we started.” She slid away from the brace of the wall, standing on her own two feet when it looked as though she wanted nothing more than to collapse right here in the middle of the floor. “Who is he?”

“What is this?” She was so close, it wouldn’t take much for him to reach out for her. But the distance she was purposefully putting between them set his nerves on edge. This wasn’t the Ivy he’d gone undercover for. This was his former FBI partner, before they’d risked their lives for one another. Before he’d been injured in the field. Before she’d donated a piece of herself to save his life. And, damn it, he hadn’t missed this version of her. He wanted more. He’d always wanted more for them. “Why thesudden interest in our last case? What is it you’re not telling me?”

Ivy turned on her heel, heading for the bag she’d left at the front door. In seconds, she’d pulled something from inside and thrust it against his chest, every ounce the woman with the capability to bring the world to a stop with a snap of her fingers.

He grabbed for the paper crumpled under her grip. Not a piece of paper. A photo. Carson slipped it from her hand, instantly victim to the softness of her skin against his. The past two years had put him in a position of power, of respect, of camaraderie within the cartel. He was trusted by upper management. Though he’d never met the leader ofSangre por Sangre, Carson had proved himself time and again as a valuable asset. He’d made friends. Some of whom he’d fought beside as they’d taken their last breath in the field. Some who’d sat beside him in cuffs when an assignment went south. His fellow soldiers had been there for him. And, yeah, there’d been women. Cartel bunnies who were always more interested in what his position could give them rather than what he craved. But this… He’d missed this connection. The feel of Ivy. Her warmth. Her compassion. His heart rate ticked up at her mere touch.

Until his brain cleared enough to process the subject in the photo.

Dr. Nafessa Piel. Dead. Exposed. Left to decompose alone. Complete with added wounds carved into her back. Carson had seen this before. He’d lived it. Only it had been a different woman then. The symbols were different this time, too. This wasn’t the same message the killer had left him and Ivy two years ago announcingSangre por Sangre’s rise. “When did this happen?”

“The medical examiner hasn’t been able to determine time of death yet,” Ivy said. “But she’d been missing for three days.”

“Same as the others. Let me guess—nothing but mucus in her stomach? Dehydrated, starved and tortured.” The details would line up. She didn’t have to respond. The answer was written all over her face. Carson forced himself to study every detail of the photo in an attempt to pick up on something they’d missed before. “And the message?”

“I pulled the old case file and compared these symbols to the ones left on the other three victims. He’s evolving. Using a variation of the original, from what I can tell.” The fight seemed to drain right out of her then. “I have a member on my team who may be able to speed up the decryption, but it’s still going to take some time.”

“Why now?” Carson offered the photo. “Why her?”

“Socorro has practically drivenSangre por Sangreunderground, thanks to your intel and our manpower. This could be a final attempt to survive.” Ivy stared down at the photo of her colleague, and a sadness Carson couldn’t stand etched deep into her features. She would blame herself for this. And without hesitation she would take on the entire cartel to make it right. It was one of the things he admired most about her. It was why they’d gotten this far. She swiped her hand under her nose and grabbed for the photo. “As for why he targeted Dr. Piel, I was hoping you might have some insight.”

He wanted to give it to her, but despite his years undercover, she knew everything he did about the cartel. “The last three victims betrayed the cartel. They were used as a warning to those who stepped out of—”

A red laser cut through the room between them.

“Get down!” Ivy lunged for him.

Just as a swarm of bullets exploded through the window.

CHAPTER TWO

She was already reaching for her go bag.

Debris and glass rained down from above as the safe house’s living room wall disintegrated under fire. Picture frames seemed to explode above her. Photos of happier times, of family she’d lost touch with years ago, of commendations from her career in the FBI. It was all being ripped to pieces by hot lead.

Ivy fisted the backpack she’d stashed beneath a section of the couch and kicked off her heels. Rolling off Carson, she dragged the go bag into her chest. The safe house she’d built to escape the day-to-day violence was falling apart around her, but she couldn’t think about that right now. They had to get out of here. “Get to the bedroom!”

Whoever was on the other side of that gun would expect them to go for the door. But Ivy didn’t like to follow expectations. Not even when it had come to taking the beatings her stepfather doled out on a regular basis when she’d been a child. Who would have thought a ten-year-old could shoot a man who was supposed to protect her? Based on his final expression, certainly not him.

---