Forever Found Read online

  She forced a smile. Except she wasn’t the one who’d accomplished anything. She’d written checks to Forever Friends, but Brad had done almost all the work. Christ, he’d even built the fence himself, with Gabe’s and Dax’s help, and hadn’t that been a sight. Three sexy, shirtless men, hammering away, getting sweaty and dirty.

  Shaking off that fond memory, Marla focused on the problem. Aside from decorative touches, a painting here, or a throw pillow there, she’d done nothing to help create this new shelter besides open her wallet. And that wasn’t enough. Not for her. Not anymore. She wanted to be a part of something, be useful for a change. Have something to tell her father when he called, asking what she was doing with her life.

  Dax strode into the office with a beagle missing his front left leg slung over his shoulders like a bag of grain. The dog swiped its tongue up Dax’s cheek, then turned its attention to the man’s unruly auburn hair, taking a large chunk in its mouth and tugging. Dax gave Marla the universal male head bob while tugging his hair free. “Hey, hot stuff. I thought I saw Maddie in the playroom.”

  Brad turned his gaze to the ceiling and sighed. “Dax, please don’t call our biggest donor ‘hot stuff.’ Or, really, any woman. And while we’re on the subject, stop sending Izzy cat pictures. She scrolls through her texts at night, and I don’t like her looking at pics from another man while we’re lying in bed together.”

  “First, those cat memes are hilarious, and Izzy loves them. Second, I only make my comments to women who appreciate my honesty.” Dax winked at Marla, and she smiled back. She had been on the receiving end of a lot of tasteless comments in her life, and she felt there was a fine line a man walked when complimenting a woman’s appearance. But Dax always stayed on the right side of that line. He was charming and sweet, and his appreciation was always good for a little ego boost.

  There was nothing wrong with a little harmless flirtation, not if both sides knew the score.

  The last time she’d been in this shelter, she’d made Gabe a proposition. He’d turned her down. Gabe hadn’t felt any pressure to accept, and she hadn’t intended any. There was really no need for her to twist herself up over it.

  Her shoulders sagged, and she took what seemed like her first full breath in days. She wasn’t a creeper. She could relax and be herself. Thank God. It had been hell trying to bite her tongue to keep in any inappropriate comments. She loved being inappropriate.

  “Don’t worry about it, Brad.” She reached over and scratched under the dog’s ear. “If Dax doesn’t mind when I compliment his ass, I won’t complain when he calls me hot stuff.”

  The ceiling again captured Brad’s attention, and he muttered under his breath.

  “I think you broke him,” Dax whispered loudly.

  “What do you want, Dax?” Pinching the bridge of his nose, Brad went behind his desk and dropped into his chair.

  “Oh yeah. Jerome called.” Dax slid the beagle from his shoulders to cradle the animal against his chest. “He wanted to know if we’ve received any more dogs injured from fights. And since I was coming to tell you that message anyway, I thought I’d see if you have Cormoran Strike’s prosthetic to try out.”

  “Right here.” He waved the red artificial leg in the air, then turned and cleared a space on his desk. Taking the beagle, he settled in his desk chair and placed the dog before him. “And tell Jerome no.”

  “Wait.” Marla’s body temperature rose a notch. “What?”

  “I know, it’s a weird name, right?” Dax rubbed the tip of the beagle’s ear between his thumb and index finger. “Brad and Gabe have this thing about naming their dogs after detectives and Cor is some crime-fighter who’s missing a leg.”

  “I don’t care about his name!” Well, she kind of did. It was an adorable name for the little guy. But there were bigger matters to attend to. “What’s this about dogs fighting? Not, like, an actual dog fight?”

  “Afraid so.” Brad adjusted the prosthetic around the dog’s upper leg. “Or at least that’s what we suspect.”

  Dog fighting. In Crook County. Clenching her fists, she tapped the toe of her gray pump on the floor. “Well?”

  Brad looked up, raised an eyebrow.

  Marla huffed out a breath. “What’s being done about it?” They couldn’t just let people fight dogs. Someone must be trying to put a stop to it.

  “Jerome’s investigating,” Brad said.

  Marla knew Jerome. Respected him. But how much time did the deputy have to investigate a crime that didn’t harm humans? “Jerome is on the Pineville Police Department. But what if the fights are happening in Clarion or Marysville? Or outside of Crook County? Has Jerome contacted the nearby law enforcement agencies? A task force should be created.”

  Dax and Brad shared a look. “Um, we’ve found one dog who had injuries consistent with being a bait dog,” Brad said. “We’re not even certain there’s something to worry about yet. I think a task force to investigate is a little premature.”

  “Hmm.” Marla paced across the office, and Brad and Dax turned back to the beagle.

  Brad tightened a strap and pulled a multi-tool from his pocket. He flipped open a small screwdriver and made an adjustment at the knee hinge. He secured three straps, pulling them tight. “There. Let’s get Cormoran on his feet.”

  “Do you think if I went to the police I could convince them to make this a priority? Perhaps with a donation to the widows’ fund?” She tugged on her bottom lip with her thumb and forefinger. The idea that something so reprehensible could be happening in her neck of the woods made her sick. Concrete action needed to be taken.

  Brad didn’t look up. “No. But Jerome is a good cop. He’ll look into it.”

  “Yeah, when he arrested me, Jerome made sure the handcuffs didn’t pinch and got me a slice of pie from The Pantry while I waited to be arraigned.” Dax grinned. “Always the mark of a solid officer.”

  “You free-climbed the county courthouse and planted a pirate flag at the top,” Brad said dryly. “Hardly the crime of the century.”

  “But aren’t you glad I did?” Dax got down on the floor and patted the wood laminate, encouraging the dog to take a few steps. “Look at all the free labor you get as a condition of my probation.”

  Marla rubbed her forehead. “Can we please remain focused on the issue?” Seriously, sometimes it was like herding cats when it came to dealing with the men at Forever Friends. They had the attention span of a gnat. “How do we find out if there is dog fighting going on here, and if so, stop it?”

  The room was silent except for Cormoran’s prosthetic clicking on the floor.

  “Uh…” Dax scratched his chest.

  “Marla—” Brad began.

  “I know, you think it’s a police matter.” She resumed her pacing, her mind turning at each wall along with her pivots. “But maybe we can do something that law enforcement can’t. Start, I don’t know, a public awareness campaign. Tell people the signs they need to look out for. Maybe a ‘see something suspicious, say something’ type of thing.”

  Brad picked up the beagle and slid off the prosthetic. “Deborah Garcia and Eugenie Shaw were talking about setting up a Forever Friends app where people could report abandoned dogs. They created and maintain our website and newsletter.” He shrugged. “Maybe you could talk to them.”

  “An app.” She nodded slowly. Maybe technology was the key. The idea had possibilities. She knew Debbie and Eugenie casually. They taught monthly classes at Golden Acres to help seniors navigate their smartphones and computers. Occasionally they’d join in the knitting circle. And they were dog lovers. They’d be just as outraged as she that dog fighting might be happening in their town.

  Dax slung an arm over her shoulders. “You are a force of nature, Marla. You would have made an outstanding military commander, kept all your troops in line.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Wouldn’t you agree,
Gabe?”

  Stiffening, Marla whipped her head around. Gabe filled the doorway, his face tight with disapproval. He looked at Dax’s arm, then flicked his eyes up to her face. Feeling like she’d been caught on the front porch breaking curfew, Marla slid away from Dax.

  “You’re here.” Gabe grabbed the top of the door frame with both hands. His right eye was puffy and purple, and the skin on the cheekbone under it looked scraped raw. “Again.”

  “I thought today was your off-day at Forever Friends.” Marla swallowed, and hated herself for her explanation. She didn’t owe him one. It was her building. She could park her ass in it every day if she chose.

  “Some dogs needed another round of vaccinations.” A muscle in Gabe’s jaw twitched. “I have a purpose for being here.” And you don’t. He didn’t say it, but Marla heard it all the same.

  “Gabe,” Brad said, a warning in his voice. “Marla is always welcome here.”

  “What happened to your face?” Dax leaned forward, eyes squinting. “Did one of your dates finally take offense when you booted her out the door?”

  “Dax,” Brad said, his tone maintaining the same note of caution. It wasn’t necessary. Gabe’s glare held enough of a threat for Dax to get the hint.

  “Uh, I think I’ll take Cormoran back to the playroom.” Dax plucked the beagle from Brad’s arms and edged around Gabe.

  Dax was smart enough to avoid the drama, and for once, Marla was in full agreement. With a nod goodbye to Brad, she stalked after Dax, twisting her body sideways so no part of her would brush Gabe’s body.

  But he didn’t let her escape. Gabe followed, his footsteps padding right behind her. “Is this going to be a common occurrence? You flirting with a different man at the shelter each day?”

  Marla gritted her teeth. “Well, as my father always said, if at first you don’t succeed…” She tried to inject as much snark into her voice as possible. No way would he think his rejection had hurt.

  His breath was hot on the back of her neck. “Just remember that Brad’s taken.”

  Marla spun at the door to the playroom and fisted her hands on her hips. “I’m sure if I were seeking relationship advice, you’d be the last person I’d approach. What do you want, Gabe? I’ve already apologized.”

  He gripped the back of his neck. “I just… You just…” Tilting his head back, he let out a sound somewhere between a growl and a groan. “You drive me nuts! Always there, whenever I turn around. I can’t escape you. You’re trouble. I told Brad you were trouble from the start, but he didn’t want to hear it. Things were going fine here before you, and I want them to stay that way.”

  Marla’s belly fluttered. Gabe sounded at wit’s end. Aggrieved and harassed, too, but that was status quo for their relationship. But the hot and bothered aspect was new. Almost as though he might like her, even when he really didn’t want to. That shouldn’t make her happy, or send a lick of triumph straight to her heart, but it did. The glowering, cold beast was showing a crack or two. And after the way he pushed all her buttons, it was nice to know she could push them back.

  Turning toward the door, she tossed over her shoulder, “Don’t get your panties in a twist. My interference in the shelter is over. All the remodeling is finished. Besides, I have a new project to occupy myself.”

  “God help us,” Gabe muttered.

  A pack of dogs swarmed around their legs as they entered the playroom, most jockeying and vying for Gabe’s attention. He knelt to give some back rubs. A golden retriever fell to her side and exposed her belly, whining for Gabe to pet her.

  “What’s your latest hobby?” he asked.

  “Dog fighting.” Marla reached for Maddie, who came galloping up. The poodle curled into her arms, and Marla buried her face in the dog’s fluffy hair. A chill settled in her bones. How anyone could set these animals against each other for profit was beyond her capacity to understand.

  “What?” Gabe spit the word out like a bullet, and Marla glanced up in surprise.

  “What, what?” She thought back over their conversation. “Oh, the dog fighting. Brad said there might be someone running fights here.”

  Gabe’s face darkened to a storm cloud.

  “I know. Absolutely disgusting,” Marla said. “So, I thought I’d see if I could do something about it.”

  Gabe blinked. And blinked again. “Just like that,” he said tightly. “You hear about a potential crime and your first thought is, hey, maybe I can stop it.” He stood and took a step forward. “Not the cops, or anyone who knows anything about dog fights. You just see a problem and dive right in.”

  Maddie got between Gabe and Marla, and barked twice. Gabe looked down and rolled his eyes. Which was a mistake. Mad might be a poodle with a stylin’ haircut, but she was big and her teeth were just as sharp as any other dog’s.

  Marla stood and put a hand on Maddie’s back. “Keep your voice down, please. Maddie won’t hesitate to defend me if she perceives a threat.”

  A line creased his forehead, and he frowned. Dropping to the ground, Gabe sat cross-legged before Maddie. He slowed his breathing and his muscles released. Murmuring in a soft voice words Marla couldn’t hear, he held out his hand for Maddie to sniff.

  She growled, and he drew his hand back, keeping his body relaxed. “She’s a tough one.”

  “She had a tough start to life,” Marla said quietly. “Trust doesn’t come easily.”

  Gabe pushed to his feet. “I’m sorry if I scared her.” He gazed at her, his deep brown eyes softer than she’d ever seen them. They drew her a step closer. “But you have to know how asinine it is, you taking on dog fighting in Crook County.”

  All her warm and gooey feelings dried up. “Well…why shouldn’t I get involved?”

  Gabe laced his fingers together behind his neck and looked at the ceiling. She seemed to be having that effect on men lately. Finally, he looked down at her. “People have been assholes for thousands of years and will continue to be assholes for thousands more. People gambling on animal fights goes back centuries. And while your heart might be in the right place, I can’t think of a person less qualified to tackle the problem. It’s dangerous. You could get hurt.”

  Her stomach sank as her chin tipped up. Not qualified. Gabe had said the words but they echoed in her father’s voice. “I’m not thinking of physically trying to break up the fights. I’m talking about a public relations campaign, encouraging people to report a fight if they come across it, that sort of thing.” She crossed her arms. “I can’t just sit back and do nothing.”

  “Actually, you can. That’s how 99 percent of the population gets through life.” Leaning forward, Gabe laid his hand on her shoulder and squeezed. “Bad people run dog fights. Do not get involved.”

  Most of his hand was on her blouse, but his thumb grazed the bare skin at her collarbone. Her pulse tripped and her mouth went dry. She swayed closer, torn between arguing that she was fully capable of taking care of herself and reveling in the idea that Gabe seemed to care enough to worry. She scraped her teeth against her lower lip, and Gabe dropped his gaze to her mouth.

  With a small shake of his head, Gabe pulled back, dropping his arm to his side.

  Disappointment arrowed through her. Moment over. She cleared her throat. “Well. Uh, about the dogs.” Yes, she needed to keep her focus on the dogs and ignore the little tap dance in her heart. “Do you think the police will be able to catch the person behind the fights? Assuming someone is running them and it wasn’t just one stray dog you guys found?”

  Turning, Gabe strode for the door to the lobby. “I don’t have faith in any institution, including the police. But don’t worry. I’ll look into it.”

  Marla trotted after him, Maddie at her side. “Pardon me? You are going to look into it? And what qualifications do you have, pray tell?”

  He pushed through the front door. “Unlike you, I have some
experience with the bastards who do this.”

  Blinking, she stumbled after him into the fading afternoon light. Her heels tapped against the paved parking lot. “What does that mean?”

  Gabe swung open the door of his Vellie and folded his tall body inside. He slammed the door shut.

  “Of all the…” She couldn’t believe he was going to ignore her. She looked at her heels and looked at his door, her foot itching to kick it. But she couldn’t do that to the car, or her shoes.

  He cranked his window down as the Chevelle roared to life. Marla felt the vibrations shiver through her body.

  “Stick with what you’re good at,” he said. “Plan your next party. Redecorate your cabin. But leave the dog fighting to me.” And he pulled away, the melody of his V-8 burrowing into her veins. He revved the engine at the stop sign on the corner, and the sound shot through her like a challenge.

  She might still be trying to figure out what she was meant to do in her life, trying to define her purpose. But she sure as hell wasn’t going to let Gabe define it for her. Or tell her what she was or was not able to accomplish.

  With a curt nod, Marla bustled Maddie into her car and cranked the engine. It was time to make a difference.

  Chapter Six

  Gabe cut his engine. He balled up the paper his fast-food burger had come in and shoved it into the takeout bag. It had been a long-ass day. A full workload at his practice, the surgeries at the shelter, his run in with Marla. And now this bullshit.

  He cracked his neck and stared at the warehouse down the block. It was hard to tell, as the streetlight in front of the lot was dark, but the two-story building looked unchanged from when Gabe had last seen it almost fifteen years ago. No new paint. A broken window in the upper floor. A fence surrounding the lot that looked like it would blow over in a strong breeze.