A dangerous undercover assignment...

Another exciting True Blue K-9 Unit thriller

To take down a serial bomber, NYPD K-9 officers Brianne Hayes and Gavin Sutherland must go undercover—as a married couple. But now the bomber is targeting them to halt the investigation. As the clock ticks down, can Brianne, Gavin and their K-9 partners find the culprit in time to save the city—and their own lives?

With over seventy books published and millions in print, LENORA WORTH writes award-winning romance and romantic suspense. Three of her books finaled in the ACFW Carol Awards, and her Love Inspired Suspense novel Body of Evidence became a New York Times bestseller. Her novella in Mistletoe Kisses made her a USA TODAY bestselling author. Lenora goes on adventures with her retired husband, Don, and enjoys reading, baking and shopping...especially shoe shopping.

Also By Lenora Worth

Love Inspired Suspense

True Blue K-9 Unit

Deep Undercover

Military K-9 Unit

Rescue Operation

Classified K-9 Unit

Tracker

Classified K-9 Unit Christmas

“A Killer Christmas”

Rookie K-9 Unit

Truth and Consequences

Rookie K-9 Unit Christmas

“Holiday High Alert”

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk.

Deep Undercover

Lenora Worth

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-09683-6

DEEP UNDERCOVER

© 2019 Harlequin Books S.A.

Published in Great Britain 2019

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.

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www.millsandboon.co.uk

Version: 2020-03-02

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Gavin glanced at Brianne, his eyes apprehensive.

A streak of lightning made a jagged dance over the skyscrapers, and a roar of thunder shook the sky. The flowers in the dish gardens bent in the brisk wind. Brianne turned away from the street to give her K-9, Stella, a command so they could move inside. Before she could get to the diner door, the rain started coming down.

Something else started to pour along with the rain. Bullets.

Gavin didn’t have time to think. He covered Brianne’s body as the dark SUV sped by, one tinted side window in the back open enough to show the tip of a long-barreled revolver. With a silencer.

TRUE BLUE K-9 UNIT:

These police officers fight for justice with the help of their brave canine partners

Justice Mission by Lynette Eason, April 2019

Act of Valor by Dana Mentink, May 2019

Blind Trust by Laura Scott, June 2019

Deep Undercover by Lenora Worth, July 2019

Seeking the Truth by Terri Reed, August 2019

Trail of Danger by Valerie Hansen, September 2019

Courage Under Fire by Sharon Dunn, October 2019

Sworn to Protect by Shirlee McCoy, November 2019

True Blue K-9 Unit Christmas by Laura Scott and Maggie K. Black, December 2019

Dear Reader,

This was a challenging story, but I loved these characters and so enjoyed working with the other amazing authors in this series. New York City is an amazing place with one of the most dedicated police forces in the world. I hope I did them justice with this story.

Brianne was a go-getter while Gavin used caution. I believe our environments shape our personalities, so I tried to show that with these two very strong but different personalities. Please note that while I talked to several experts and did a lot of research on both New York and law enforcement, any mistakes are solely my own. God Bless the NYPD!

Please visit me at my website www.lenoraworth.com or chat with me on Facebook.

Until next time, may the angels watch over you. Always.

Lenora Worth

For there is nothing covered, that shall not be revealed; neither hid, that shall not be known.

—Luke 12:2

To the men and women of the New York Police Department.

Thank you all for protecting one of my favorite cities.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Note to Readers

Introduction

Dear Reader

Bible Verse

Dedication

ONE

TWO

THREE

FOUR

FIVE

SIX

SEVEN

EIGHT

NINE

TEN

ELEVEN

TWELVE

THIRTEEN

FOURTEEN

FIFTEEN

SIXTEEN

SEVENTEEN

EIGHTEEN

NINETEEN

TWENTY

TWENTY-ONE

TWENTY-TWO

Extract

About the Publisher

ONE

K-9 Officer Gavin Sutherland held tight to his partner Tommy’s leash and scanned the crowd, his mind on high alert, his whole body tense as he tried to protect the city he loved. People from all over the world stood shoulder to shoulder along the East River, waiting for the annual Fourth of July fireworks display. This New York tradition held a lot of challenges. He searched again in the park and along the riverfront on the Lower East Side of Manhattan.

The upbeat crowd grew more rowdy as the late afternoon sunshine began to slowly descend beyond the Manhattan skyscrapers to the west. Even with the patriotic excitement of the crowd, anything could go wrong. The setting sun hit asphalt and concrete with a laser-like heat while the merging of people seemed to crush in on all sides.

The smell of someone’s perfume wafted up and out over the trees to mingle with the scents of cotton candy, street food and that other unique smell of sweaty humans having too much fun.

His partner, a black-and-white springer spaniel, knew the drill. Tommy worked bomb detection. People were always surprised that a springer could be so focused and sharp. Tommy had been trained to find incendiary devices. Period. End of discussion. His quiet, steady work didn’t require barking or bringing attention to himself. He knew to sniff the air and the ground. Sniff, sit, repeat. Be rewarded. But Gavin didn’t have to get defensive about his partner. Tommy lived for bomb detection, play toys and rewards.

Lately, Gavin had been the one who needed defending. He’d worked hard all of his life and done things by the book and yet a few choice words during a time of chaos and grief had put a target on his back. As a member of the NYC K-9 Command Unit, based in Queens, he took his job seriously and he’d like to keep it.

Pushing aside the bitterness he’d tried to shed over the last few months, Gavin studied the immediate crowd. A woman with a curly-haired baby laughing at the man by her side. A kid in a Yankees baseball cap tossing a soccer ball in the air, his expression bored. A man wearing a plaid cap carrying a dark backpack. Two young girls in jeans and flag-embossed shirts shoving through the crowd to get the perfect selfie with the backdrop of the city.

Tommy held his head up and sniffed. Too many scents. “It’s okay, boy. You’re doing great.”

Glancing up, Gavin spotted his backup, K-9 Officer Brianne Hayes, a rookie who had been paired with him to continue gaining experience. Her K-9 graduation ceremony should have taken place in the spring but had been postponed due to a tragic event that had rocked the entire K-9 Unit.

Back in April, their chief, Jordan Jameson, had been found dead under strange circumstances. He’d been murdered, but the death had been staged to look like a suicide. His administrative assistant, Sophie Walters, had discovered a suicide note, supposedly from Jordan, the morning of the scheduled graduation. Soon after, his body had been found. But they all knew Jordy had not committed suicide. The whole department was on a mission to find out who’d killed him. But a few key officers were not on the case. Jordan had three brothers in the K-9 Unit, and though they were naturally more driven than anyone to find the killer, the Jamesons had been assigned to other cases to avoid conflicts of interest.

No one had forgotten how Gavin had complained about being passed over as chief when the position had been given to Jordan. He and Jordan went way back but they hadn’t been close in years. Differences in style going back to their days in training at the Police Academy. Ancient history, but Gavin had learned the hard way not to air his grievances—not with so many Jamesons around to remember every angry word he’d uttered about losing out on the promotion.

They’d both graduated and become police officers. Jordan had gotten married to a good woman who was now pregnant and a widow. Gavin had worked with him, practically side by side, and watched him prosper but had always wondered why Jordan managed to stay one step ahead of him. Now Jordan was dead. Gavin’s resentment seemed silly and frivolous. The guilt of that ate at him.

When Jordan became chief, Gavin voiced that resentment. Just another thing between them. Then, shortly after his death, Jordan’s position had been given to his brother, Noah Jameson. Gavin had complained again, blurting out his feelings without even thinking. So much for not airing his grievances. After that, Jordan’s brothers and the department had unofficially deemed him a person-of-interest in Jordy’s death. Unbelievable. He’d been easily cleared—he’d been on duty working a big fund-raising event in Manhattan the night before Jordan had disappeared and his roommate had verified he was home the next morning when Jordan went missing on a jog—but things might not ever be the same.

“Hey, Sutherland, want a bottled water?” Brianne asked.

“Sure, Hayes. Bring it.”

Gavin tamped down his resentment about not being promoted, then said a prayer for patience and acceptance. He had to take the high road on this and see things through by helping to find the real killer. He might not have been Jordy’s buddy like in the old days, but he sure hadn’t killed the man. Now he worked twice as hard as anyone in the department to show his worth. So here he stood on a national holiday, hot, tired and wishing he was out on a boat somewhere.

Brianne headed toward him, her auburn hair caught up in a severe bun. He’d noticed her hair when she’d had it down. Straight and sweeping her shoulders in a soft sheen of deep red. That fire-colored hair matched her fierce determination to prove herself since she was one of only a few female K-9 officers in the city that never slept.

Brianne’s partner, Stella, was also in training with the K-9 handlers. The gentle yellow Lab had been pregnant a few months ago when she’d arrived in New York, a gift from the Czech Republic. She’d given birth to eight puppies that had all been farmed out to various officers and their families for socialization and possible future training as either K-9s or service dogs.

Brianne had taken on the job of training Stella in the basics, hoping to someday use her in bomb detection. They’d already started practicing—sniffing explosives, getting a treat and then doing it all over again. Once the dog learned she’d be rewarded for finding that particular scent, they’d move on from sit–stay–pay training to seek–find–reward. Stella now trained at the center and soon she’d be training doing the same thing Tommy specialized in—searching out bombs. Brianne had a way with animals from what he’d heard. Her smile had a way of calming him, Gavin had to admit.

“Thanks,” he said now as she handed him the ice-cold water, her lips pursed in professional determination.

“I’ve been along the perimeters of the park,” she said, her golden-brown eyes moving over a thousand faces, her heart-shaped face glowing with a sheen of perspiration. “Nothing out of the ordinary. Hot and humid and crowded. Can’t wait for the show.”

Gavin smiled at the droll sarcasm and gulped down half the water. Then he poured some in his hand for Tommy to drink. The spaniel lapped it up and wagged his tail. Brianne had already done the same with Stella.

Scanning the area again, he said, “I think the crowd grows every year. Standing-room only tonight.”

Brianne wiped a hand across her brow. “Stella keeps fidgeting and sniffing. She needs to get used to this.”

“Give her time. She’s a rookie like you.”

Brianne gave him a mock frown. “And you got stuck with me today.”

He didn’t mind that but he grinned and played along. “I drew the short straw.”

Or at least it felt that way at times, but not today. He’d had a thing for Brianne Hayes since he’d noticed her on her first day of K-9 training. But he’d never acted on his feelings because they worked together and because this job demanded his full attention. They mostly picked on each other and flirted in a playful way. Fine by Gavin. He’d dated off and on but most women couldn’t handle his long hours or dark moods.

“I drew the short straw,” she shot back. “I’d rather be sitting on my tiny back porch with the sprinkler wetting my feet. But Stella and me, we can handle you.”

As if she’d heard them talking about her, Stella stopped and lifted her nose into the air, a soft growl emitting from her throat.

Brianne held tight to the leash. “Steady, girl. You’ll need to contain that when the fireworks start.”

But Stella didn’t quit. The big dog tugged forward, her nose sniffing both air and ground.

Gavin watched the Labrador, wondering what kind of scent she’d picked up. Then Tommy alerted, going still except for his wagging tail that acted like a warning flag, his body trembling in place, his nose in the air. A whiff he recognized had hit his odor receptors and sent an alert to his somatosensory cortex so he could process the smell. And it had to be a familiar smell.

“Something’s up,” Gavin whispered to Brianne. “He’s picked up a signature somewhere.”

Brianne whispered low. “As in a bomb scent?”

“That’s his specialty.”

Gavin checked her to make sure she wouldn’t panic. Instead of panic, he saw something else in her eyes. Apprehension and anticipation. Brianne’s adrenaline faintly shouted at him.

Stella’s, too. The rookie knew enough training to expect a reward soon.

“This can’t be good,” Gavin whispered, watching the crowd. A mass of people side by side. With a bomb nearby, full-out chaos would hit. They’d have to work quietly and quickly to get this situation under control. “We need to verify and contain.” He did a sweep of the area. “If we find something, we need to call for backup immediately, okay?”

She nodded and did her own scan of the area.

“We’d better get to work,” she said as they both let their partners take the lead, guiding them in a rush through the crowd. “We might not have much time.”

It didn’t take long to find what the dogs had alerted on. The man Gavin had spotted earlier wearing the plaid cap and carrying a black backpack.

He wasn’t carrying the backpack now.

Gavin leaned toward Brianne. “We need to keep an eye on that man up ahead. Don’t let him get lost in the crowd. You follow him, and Tommy and I can search for the backpack.” Hurrying ahead, he reached for his radio to alert the other NYPD officers in the area.

Brianne nodded, her gaze zooming in on the man pushing through toward the south. “Think he’s the one?”

Gavin didn’t take his eyes off the man. “Yeah, I do.”

The woman he’d noticed earlier sat with her baby girl on a crowded bench, her child in her arms. The kid with the soccer ball kicked it into the air. The ball got lost in the fray, but someone caught it and sent it back to the kid.

“We need to stay calm and see what he does next,” he said to Brianne. “See where he goes. The dogs could be wrong, but I doubt that. Stay on the radio.”

Tommy alerted again, his eyes on the man ahead but then the dog lifted his nose in the air and changed courses. Gavin pushed his way through shoulder-to-shoulder people, some laughing and ignoring him, some glaring at him full-force. He’d only made it a few feet. Not good.

Gavin stayed focused, trying to keep his eyes on the man who seemed oblivious to all the people shoving at him or to Brianne following him. They got caught up in a large group of teenagers pushing forward around a big oak tree.

Tommy ignored the girls and kept tugging toward the tree. Gavin spotted the backpack, zipped up and sitting on a beach towel by the tree. Tommy headed to it, dug his paws in and lifted his eyes back to Gavin. He didn’t need to inspect the bag. If Tommy detected a bomb, Gavin believed him.

“Good work, Tommy.”

Gavin called Tommy back away from the area and took in the scene. People all around. He started pushing, trying to guide them away. “Excuse me, folks. Need to clear the area, please.”

But he didn’t have to say a word. People in New York knew this drill only too well. A man pointed and shouted after he saw Tommy and Gavin—and the backpack. “Suspicious package.”

Then someone else started shoving and running away. “Bomb!”

“Go,” Gavin called, waving his arms. “Leave the area.” Then he stood and spotted Brianne up ahead. She’d already lifted her phone off her waist clip, her eyes meeting his.

“Get back,” Gavin shouted, since people were beginning to whisper and stare. “Clear the area,” he ordered, lifting his arms to wave to the people near the bench while he and Tommy kept a safe distance away. “Clear the area. Move away from the riverfront.”

Brianne and Stella whizzed back toward him. He heard her radio it in through her mic. “10-33 in progress. East River Park. Intersection of East Houston and FDR.”

“Stay back, Bree,” he called. “Keep searching for the suspect.”

She nodded and, giving Gavin one last glance, turned back to her search.

Gavin kept his hand up to keep anyone from approaching too close and he made sure he and Tommy were a safe distance away. The crowd parted and scattered, parents screaming, searching for children, the group of teenaged girls taking off like a pack to get out of the way, families grabbing each other and pushing through the masses.

In the meantime, he radioed for patrol officers to keep the crowd back and listened in on further instructions until the bomb squad arrived. He could expect to see a whole slew of law enforcement agencies arrive soon, including the FBI, ATF and the New York City Fire Department, just in case. Dispatch had already alerted officers up and down the riverfront on both sides of the firework barges. Unless they found more suspicious packages, the show would go on. But it might be delayed if this turned out to be more than a lone, random act.

Gavin prayed that wouldn’t be the case.

* * *

People were running, screaming, shoving. The little boy with the soccer ball fell and cried out in pain. Someone helped him up while his ball went flying and dropped into the frightened crowd. The woman with the baby abandoned her stroller and took off running, holding her wailing child close to her shoulder. Her husband called after her and caught up to hold his family tight.

People shuffled to get away, some tripping and getting up while others stopped to help. An elderly man pushed a woman in a wheelchair. Too close.

Gavin hurried with Tommy toward the couple, hoping to get them away from the backpack, his heart pumping.

But before he could get to them, a boom and flash, smoke all around, people screaming and shouting, calling out to their loved ones. Gavin felt the blowback hit him in the gut, knocking him down. He stumbled while Tommy leaped into the air and fell over Gavin.

His ears ringing, Gavin sat up and rubbed Tommy’s fur. “Thank you, boy. Good boy.” His partner appeared intact and ready to get back on the job.

Gavin moved toward the smoke, searching for the old man who’d been pushing the woman in the wheelchair. Had they managed to get out of the way?

Tommy sniffed as they neared the area, the acrid smell from the explosion causing people to cough. The backpack had been incinerated. Gone. A black hole covered the spot where the blanket still burned. Searching for the wheelchair, Gavin also looked for Brianne and Stella. The last time he’d seen them they were coming back toward the tree.

The smoke settled enough that he saw the old man sitting on the ground by the wheelchair, his forehead bleeding. He and the woman held hands. Both safe and sound and looking at each other.

Gavin headed toward them to make sure they were okay. “You folks all right?”

The man nodded, still holding his wife’s hand. “Forty-eight years together. We’re tougher than we look, son.”

Gavin talked to them in a calm voice, making sure they were both okay and telling them help was on the way. Their love for each other was evident—like a punch to the gut but in a good way.

Then he glanced up and saw Brianne and Stella coming from the other direction, Brianne limping. But she gave him a thumps-up.

“Lost the suspect when someone in the crowd accidentally knocked me to the ground. Heading back,” she reported over the radio. Brianne turned toward Gavin, Stella dancing at her feet. Shrugging, she held up her hands in defeat.

They’d lost the bomber. But the entire NYPD now had his description from Gavin. The man could easily detonate another bomb at any minute, though. But Gavin had to wonder if he’d planned the attack to hit when the fireworks started going off. Worst-case scenario. Yet the bomb hadn’t done a lot of damage. Someone out for kicks? Or sending a warning to the city?

He let out a breath of relief but knew it would be short-lived. He had to go over this bomb scene and do a search for the man they’d spotted. What if he’d planted more bombs?

“Are you okay?” he asked through the radio.

Brianne hurried toward where he stood and nodded to him, her expression intense as she allowed Stella to do her job.

He hadn’t realized until that moment that he really wanted Brianne to be okay.

Glancing back at the old couple, he wondered what it would be like to hold someone’s hand at that age and still be in love.

Knowing he needed to search for more bombs, he hurried to meet Brianne, his mind still on that strong, courageous couple.

TWO

Off in the distance and after a long delay, the fireworks finally started. The areas on both sides of the river were now being heavily patrolled by the NYPD and several other law enforcement personnel from various agencies. But thankfully no other devices had been found along the river or in any of the parks, and most of the people on both sides were never aware that they’d searched for bombs. The fireworks barge had been cleared. The show would go on, but the search for the suspect would intensify. Reporters hovered near the cordoned-off areas, wanting the scoop. A few brave people stood behind the police lines, determined to see the fireworks now that the area had technically been cleared. But most of the people who’d been crammed into this area had either gone home or moved to another safer location.

Not a good situation, Brianne thought as they walked the perimeters that had been marked with police tape. The bomb fragments were being gathered, piece by piece, by the bomb squad and so far no other explosive devices had been found. The lab would go over every shred to find clues or markers. No word on the suspect they’d seen earlier.

Random? Or deliberate? She hoped they’d find the suspect somewhere in the city.

Brianne still shuddered each time she thought about the device that had exploded less than two hours ago in the haze of the coming dusk. If Stella and Tommy hadn’t alerted...

But that was the job. Taking care of this city. New trainee Stella had done her part and she’d been rewarded with her treat, which involved a ball and a few minutes of playtime, followed by a doggie treat. They’d have more playtime when they got home. Aggravated that she’d let the suspect get by her, Brianne looked up and found Gavin and Tommy heading toward her. Glad that they were still alive, she tried not to think about how Gavin made her feel.

“What a night,” he said, fatigue darkening his eyes.

“And it’s not over,” she replied. “We don’t leave until everyone else does.”

“Could be a while.”

Brianne had not been happy to be partnered with this man. He had a reputation around headquarters for being an overly ambitious hothead. But she had to admit that today he’d been professional and courageous. And caring. He’d personally made sure the elderly couple that had been nearest to the explosion had both been checked over by the paramedics and cleared. Then he’d seen to it that they had an escort home, not a taxi but a cruiser.

Now Brianne wondered if a big teddy bear hid behind that gruff, fierce exterior. Gavin was good-looking in a don’t-mess-with-me way, his hair a rich tousled brown, his eyes almost black, his attitude tough and untouchable. Maybe she’d misjudged her coworker, but then her last boyfriend had explained to her that she needed to work on her trust issues.

Even though she’d caught him cheating with her now-ex-best friend. Yeah, she had a few trust issues. But more than that, her determination and ambition matched that of the man walking with her right now. And that meant no love life. Too messy.

“You might need some downtime later tonight,” he said. “It’s always rough when things get this heavy.”

Whirling to face him, Brianne scoffed. “You don’t think I have the mettle to handle this, Gavin?”

“I didn’t say that,” he replied, clearly confused. “We had an intense situation, but you handled it like a pro.”

Anger gaining strength, she glared up at him. “I am a pro. I haven’t gotten my official graduation certificate yet, but that doesn’t mean I can’t do the job.”

“I said all of that wrong,” he replied, looking adorably sheepish. “You’re tough, Bree. We can all see that. You work harder than any of us in training and on the streets.”

“You mean, for a woman, right?”

“I hadn’t noticed,” he retorted, with a trace of a smile.

“Are you laughing at me, Sutherland?”

“No, ma’am.”

“Now you’re calling me ma’am?”

“Look, I’m headed for coffee and something to eat once we’re off duty. I’m bushed and I’m starving and my adrenaline has about run its course. You’re welcome to come with.” Checking his watch, he added, “Our shift should have ended an hour ago.”

Feeling contrite and a bit embarrassed, Brianne again wondered about Gavin Sutherland. She hesitated for her own reasons, but he took it the wrong way.

“Okay, I get it,” he said, walking ahead of her. “You obviously don’t want to hang around with a piranha like me.”

“You don’t look that dangerous,” she said, catching up with him. “I don’t think of you in that way.”

No, right now she thought of him in a whole new way. Something that had more teeth than any old scary fish. Mentally doing a shakedown, she pushed all of that away for now. Her adrenaline had drained away, too.

“Then what do you think of me?”

His question caught her off guard. She’d noticed him. It would be hard for any woman to skip right over a man like him. But she knew better than to get involved with a coworker, especially since he was right. She’d worked hard in training and on the job to show everyone she meant business. She’d taken on the task of training Stella to make some points, but now she loved the dog with all of her heart and she planned to make Stella the best bomb-detection dog in this city. Stella had done a good job today, so Brianne knew her gut instincts had been spot on.

“Can’t even say it?”

Holding tight to Stella, Brianne shot him another glare and got her mind back on the conversation. “Yes, I can say it. I don’t know you that well, but I think you were given a bum rap. You might want to get promoted, but you wouldn’t kill anyone to make that happen. You’re too loyal to the department for that and besides, you have a solid alibi for when Jordan disappeared.”

Giving her an uncertain frown that made his eyebrows shift up, he said, “Thank you, I think.”

He took off and followed Tommy, his whole body on alert. Maybe the man just needed a friend.

“Look,” she said, tired but still full of enough tension to know that this man made her pulse beat a little faster. “It’s been a long hot day and I’m going home when I’m done. Then we get right back to it tomorrow.”

He didn’t argue with her. “Yep. I need to find some food and then I’m going to go over my report one more time. We have to keep looking for the man in the plaid hat.”

“Because he could strike again,” she replied, her eyes holding his.

Gavin nodded. “Yes, I have a bad feeling this might only be the beginning.”

* * *

The next morning, Griffin’s Diner was hopping as usual. People still enjoying what was left of the Fourth of July weekend were lined up at the double French doors of the quaint brick building located on a bustling corner near 94th Street in Queens.

Brianne had walked the couple blocks over from the K-9 Command Unit in search of some good coffee and a nice shady spot on the patio.

The old red bricks of the restaurant had mellowed to a deep burgundy over the years. Brianne remembered coming here with her parents as a child and seeing the pictures on the wall of fallen officers, one of them a brother to the owner, Louis Griffin. Most of the K-9s in service now had been named after those who’d died while on duty, including Gavin’s partner, Tommy, named after Officer Tommy McNeill.

The diner had been in the Griffin family for generations and easygoing baseball fanatic Louis “Lou” Griffin was a fixture in the place, along with his blunt-talking wife, Barbara, who had a no-nonsense attitude and took care of everything from bookkeeping to settling down unruly customers. Their daughter, Violet, a friend of Brianne’s, worked with them when she wasn’t at her regular job as a ticket agent at the airport. They’d lost their five-year-old son to meningitis nearly twenty years ago. She often wondered if that’s why they all poured so much love into this old building.

Brianne moved around to the right corner where an alfresco area lined with potted dish gardens led to the private space designated for the NYPD and the K-9 team’s four-legged partners. She opened one of the matching French doors there, smiling at the etched plaque over the door—The Dog House, Reserved for New York’s Finest.

She headed inside to see if Violet was working and get that big cup of coffee but stopped when she heard her name.

“Hey, Bree.”

Turning, she saw Gavin approaching, Tommy moving ahead.

Holding the door, she tried to hide her surprise. “What are you doing here?”

He pointed to where a big red umbrella cast a shade over one of the square metal tables near a side street. “I never ate last night. I’m going to order a big breakfast.” Then he lifted his chin. “Grab your coffee and meet me back out here. It’s cloudy and not too hot yet. Lou’s got the rotating fan going already.”

“Outside it is, then,” she replied, again noticing her good-looking coworker while she wondered why she’d stopped here today, of all mornings. Unless someone else showed up, they had the whole patio to themselves. Not that she minded. More like too intimate. Brianne wanted to keep things light and professional. But...a chance meeting over coffee, coworkers did that, right?

When she came back with a to-go cup, Gavin didn’t dare hold out her chair, even though he looked as if he might. They both sat down at the same time, facing toward the street, their partners curling up at their feet to wait for water and a special treat from Lou.

“So how ya doing?” he asked, his attitude more relaxed and laid back today.

“Peachy,” she replied. “Slept like a rock.”

“I never know if you’re being sarcastic or serious,” he replied, smiling over at her.

“And I’ll never tell you which.”

She hadn’t slept much at all. She kept reliving the moment when that bomb had exploded. But she’d made notes each time she remembered something and she aimed to get back to work. Like right now.

Barbara came out with a coffee pot. “Anyone hungry?” She refilled Gavin’s mug, her question causing Brianne’s stomach to growl loudly. “What else can I bring you guys?”

“Pancakes,” they both said, laughing.

“Pancakes it is,” she said, taking her pen out from behind her ear, loose strands of curling brown hair with gray edging escaping her bun. “How ’bout some bacon with that?”

“None for me,” Brianne said. “I hadn’t planned on staying.”

“Double stack,” Gavin replied to Barbara.

Brianne shook her head and smiled up at Barb. “Hey, is Violet here this morning?”

“Not yet,” Barb said with a smile. “But she’s due to stop by any minute now. We’re going to talk wedding plans. Have you seen her ring?”

“I have,” Brianne replied. “She and Zach seem so happy.”

“They are—finally,” Barb said. “Took them all of their lives living next to each other and then almost getting killed by some drug dealer to figure it out.”

When Barbara walked away, Gavin looked over at Brianne. “Zach needed someone in his life right now. It’s been tough on all of the Jameson brothers, losing Jordan.”

“I agree,” Brianne said, remembering Jordan’s funeral and how his brothers had stood so solemn and strong. “Now if we could just find his killer.”

“Yeah, I want that, too.” Gavin looked down, probably remembering being heavily questioned about Jordan’s death since the whole unit knew he’d been bitter about not being promoted to chief. But she didn’t broach that subject. He’d been cleared, and that was good enough for her.

He didn’t offer up any explanations. Instead, he switched gears. “So you like pancakes, but you don’t eat meat?”

“I do but...bacon is addictive. I try to pace myself.”

“And why are you in such a hurry to get away from me?”

“I’m not,” she said, thinking she needed to do just that. “I came by to get some coffee and chat with my friend. But I remembered some things about last night so I jotted notes to add to my official report. I wasn’t planning on hanging around for a big breakfast. I want to do a search and see if I can get a match on that bomber.”

He took a sip of his coffee and did the cop scan that came naturally. Trucks whizzed by, vehicles honked, people hurried down the sidewalks. A typical day in the city. “I figured you’d head right to headquarters this morning.”

“I went over my report early this morning,” she said, nodding. “And I have lots of questions, but I needed some of Barbara’s strong coffee first.”

“What kind of questions?” he asked. “I have a few of my own but we’ll need to see what the lab’s found, too.”

“That guy in the plaid hat. Gavin, he walked right past us.”

“Yeah, I know. Taunting the police? Daring us to see him?”

She took a long drink of coffee. “I did some research online. No other recent reports of bomb threats or bomb scares, but there does seem to be a rash of small explosions all over the city lately.”

Gavin tensed up and turned wary. “Such as?”

“In buildings, parking garages, things like that. They’ve all been explained away as accidents. A boiler explosion here, a garage fire there, several construction fires. But no bomb threats or actual bombs—except possibly at one particular site.” She paused. “A site that you and Tommy worked, Gavin. Williamsburg. A boiler exploded in the basement. Why were you called in?”

He didn’t flinch, and he didn’t look away. “I heard the call on the radio. I happened to be nearby so I went.”

“What did you find?”

He looked away this time. She’d read the report. Possible incendiary device. Unsubstantiated. Not enough evidence.

“Gavin, what do you know about that explosion?”

Giving her a confused stare, he asked, “What are you getting at?”

“Nothing. Because I have nothing. But I’m concerned we might start seeing more bombings in the parks or in other big crowded events. Maybe even in buildings. I don’t want that to happen but if it does, we’ll need to be prepared for a serial bomber.”

His expression changed, turning serious and standoffish.

“You think I’m crazy?” she asked, her fingers drumming the table and causing both Stella and Tommy to glance up. That or she’d stepped on his sensitive toes by taking some initiative?

“No. But, Bree, we have bomb threats all the time. It’s part of living in New York and most of them are never reported to the public. We handle things to keep everyone safe. This could have been a prank by someone bored and looking for blood or...we could have a terrorist toying with us. We need to be prepared, yes, but we also have to be careful.”

“I’m going to be careful,” she said. “But I’m also going to find out what I can about this bomber.”

When he looked away again, she beamed in on him like a laser pen. “You know something already, don’t you, Gavin?”

He shook his head. “I’m not good with words or explaining things. You’ve seen me blurt out my feelings right in front of everyone.”

“Yeah, I have. But now you’re clammed-up and this has to be about last night. You need to fill me in. So start talking.”

Gavin took a sip of black coffee, completely unaware of her inner turmoil. But he did seem to have some of his own. “You were a pro yesterday.”

Oh, so now he tried to put a spin on this and build up her confidence? “I let the suspect get away.”

“No, you didn’t. He slipped away with a crowd of people, oldest trick in the book.”

“I want to find him.”

“I do, too,” Gavin said. “And believe it or not, I agree with you. We could wind up having a serial bomber on our hands. And yes, he could be the man who walked right past us yesterday.”

“But you weren’t going to tell me that because...?”

He looked directly at her now. “I have to sort things out in my mind and make sure I’m right before I jump to conclusions.”

“You don’t trust me.”

“It’s not like that.”

She shouldn’t have been disappointed. This job could be competitive at times and she had to stay one step ahead. She’d given herself a good pep talk on the way over here, so she squelched any mixed messages she might have scrambled in her brain and gave him her I’m-all-in smile. “Then what is it like, Gavin?”

She drank her coffee while she waited, too many questions popping in her head while sweat popped out along her spine.

“I don’t know yet. But if you listen to me and let me explain, we might be able to crack this case together,” he said, his tone pure business, his gaze steady on her face.

So he did have a plan and he did know more than he’d let on. “How can I help?”

“By pretending to be my wife,” he said.

And he was dead serious.

THREE

Brianne swallowed so fast the coffee went down the wrong way and she started coughing.

Gavin watched her, his expression puzzled and confused and kind of comical. She took a sip of water and tried to clear her throat before Lou came rushing out to give her the Heimlich maneuver.

“Would you mind repeating that?” she asked, wiping her eyes.

“Are you okay?”

Nodding, she lifted her right hand to wave him on because she really wanted to hear this. A couple of uniforms came through, nodded and headed inside.

The sky had darkened, and she thought she’d seen a streak of lightning to the west. Traffic noises merged with thunder.

“It’s for a case,” he said, handing her another paper napkin to wipe her eyes. “I mean, it might be this case.”

“Involving the bomber from last night?”

“I don’t know yet. We’ll have to figure that out together.”

“Why me?” she asked, still confused.

“I’m not an undercover cop,” he said. “Not even a detective. I can’t give up my identity to go undercover but I can snoop around. I just need a cover for a few weeks.”

Barbara came out with their meal and refilled their coffee, pretending she hadn’t noticed all the coughing drama. But she shot Brianne a knowing smile. “Looks like rain,” she said, glancing at the billowing gray clouds. “Better eat up.”

Stella and Tommy sniffed the air. Bacon?

She felt their pain. Brianne watched Barbara go back inside and then grabbed a slice of crisp bacon. “I think I’m gonna need this.”

“I’ve been following a lead,” he explained between bites of fluffy pancakes and the best bacon in New York.

Or at least it tasted that way to Brianne each time she swiped a strip. Stress eating was her thing, after all. She’d have to run the bacon off later. And she’d have to run off the strange currents circulating through her system, too. Why, oh why had she been paired with this man?

Work. Focus on work. “What kind of lead?”

“A few months ago, we established that a person noted as a master bomb-maker might be back in New York and that he could possibly be the one who set off the boiler explosion that caused part of the apartment building you mentioned to wind up in pieces. One person killed and three hospitalized. Tommy and I were the first to arrive on the scene because I had dinner with a friend at a nearby restaurant. Tommy alerted and we found fragments of what looked like the makings of a bomb. Pieced things together but the FBI and Homeland Security took over the case.”

“The explosion in Williamsburg?” she asked, gaining interest. “An older apartment building. They couldn’t figure out what had caused the boiler to explode but this report says possible tampering. They never found a suspect.”

“We never found a suspect. Tommy and I gave it our best shot and we found evidence of an incendiary device but no trace of the person who might have done it.” He shrugged and shook his head. “I had to let it go.”

“Maybe the department will get a lead soon.”

“They won’t, and for several reasons,” he said. “First, we only have a written report from the other agencies and I had to ask special permission for that. Plus, this possible bomber is like a ghost, but my confidential informant—we call him Beanpole because he’s so skinny—told me he’s heard things about that explosion being deliberate. Someone wanted that building destroyed. He thinks he’s seen the man who did it and he described him to me. If it’s who I think it is, he’s known as the Tick—a double meaning. His bombs don’t always tick but he grips his target and won’t let go until the job is done. I’m talking taunting, stalking, harassing and then...boom.”

“Like a tick on skin?”

“Yes. Hard to find and even harder to shake.”

She almost shuddered but lifted her shoulder instead. “Not a good image.”

“No. This man is dangerous. He’s not considered a terrorist and he’s not connected to any sleeper cells as far as we can tell. But someone could be hiring him to sabotage or damage buildings so they can be condemned. That forces people out so they can buy the property at rock-bottom prices and rebuild on it, making a fortune. That makes him a domestic terrorist in my book, him and whoever is paying him to do this.”

He stopped, waiting for her to bolt. But Brianne sat with her eyes on him, giving him her complete attention.

“After that explosion, I did some research and found a pattern that seems to match his MO. I found one report from a building in Chicago—a gas explosion. Blasted but no foul play found. Six months later, the property had switched hands and a fancy new condominium building went up. And another in Atlanta, same pattern. A fire in the basement that got out of hand, ruled as an electrical fire. A few months later, the place had been razed to build a new high-rise condo building.”

“So you see a pattern developing?”

“Yes. Those incidents have all the markings of the Tick. He disguises his bombs to make them look like something else—a gas leak, a boiler blowing up, an accidental construction fire. Once that’s over and done, the buildings change hands pretty quickly. The previous owners might get an insurance settlement but an offer to buy them out would sure add to that. And I think they’re being persuaded in other ways, too.”

“Intimidation?” She shook her head. “Violet’s mentioned Lou being harassed lately. Something about gentrification.”

“Yes, that kind of thing. The threat of another explosion, rumors that scare tenants away.”

“So...you’ve been researching this because...?”

He took a swig of coffee and checked the clouds coming in. “I didn’t like leaving the case unsolved, and I need something to prove I’m not just out to get promoted. I really care about this case. I’m ambitious, true. But...this is dangerous stuff. The Williamsburg explosion turned out to be more powerful—enough to take down a small building and kill a woman. Tommy alerted and our partners are rarely wrong on these things. But...we didn’t find enough proof.”

“So how is he getting away with this?”

“I think someone higher up is hiring him to scare property owners. He’s meticulous in hiding his tracks but now he’s getting bolder. Bombers like notoriety, but they don’t want to get caught so they prefer to leave little signatures but not much evidence.”

“So these real estate agents are trying to scare vulnerable people out of their apartments and homes so they can raze them and build?”

“Yes. They want the property, but not the buildings.” He sat silently, as if weighing his next words. “They make people back off on contracts or force owners to sell quietly and quickly. They’ve got a system of intimidation and bullying tactics and the bomber is just the tip of the iceberg. No one can prove anything so the owners cave and wash their hands of the entire mess.”

“So it’s not just about the bomber? You want these corrupt real estate agents to end their bullying ways.”

“I do, for so many reasons.” Looking out over the street, he let out a sigh. “The woman who died in that explosion worked with my grandmother at a nearby hospital. I knew her, Bree. Helen Proctor. She lived in Williamsburg all of her life and most of that time in the apartment she shared with her husband before he died. She was good to me when my grandmother got sick and...after she passed away.” Twisting his napkin, he added, “I knew she lived there but...but I couldn’t believe it when they brought her out in a body bag.”

And right after that, Jordan Jameson had died and Gavin had been put through the wringer as a possible suspect. No wonder he seemed to have a big chip on his shoulder.

More like the weight of the world.

“I’m sorry, Gavin. So sorry.” Brianne’s heart burned with understanding. She’d heard Gavin’s grandmother had raised him after his mother left him as an infant. She didn’t bring up any of that, though. “So this is personal for you?”

“Very,” he admitted. “At the time, Jordan knew about my connection to Helen, so I asked if I could investigate the alleged bombing on the side, on my own time if needed.”

“And he agreed to that?”

“He did after I explained—Helen Proctor didn’t deserve to die that way. He knew, Noah knows and now you. I’d like to keep it that way. No one else, okay?”

“Okay.” She could see how much this meant to him. But how far would he be willing to go?

“So the chief went along with your plan?”

“He told me to be careful. Jordan and I go way back, but we had a falling out when we were in the academy together and later, as everyone knows, I resented him getting promoted. I think he initially gave the go-ahead to this because we both felt bad about what happened—a stupid fight over a training episode. Just too stubborn to apologize.”

Brianne could now see why Gavin seemed so solemn at times. She wanted to hear more about what had happened between them, but she’d save that for another time. “You feel guilty about that?”

“Of course I do.” Shrugging, he said, “Then I got put on the suspect list regarding his murder. That stung, you know. I wish I’d kept my opinions to myself, but I understand how my complaining looked bad.”

“We all know you wouldn’t kill Jordan, Gavin. And we have proof that you didn’t. I read the report. You worked a swanky fund-raiser in Midtown and both the commissioner and the mayor saw you there. Then you arrived home around midnight and your roommate said you guys talked for an hour and both went to bed. Your vehicle never left your yard until after nine that morning, according to the traffic cameras in the area.”

“You read the report?”

“Of course I did. Jordan was last seen at six a.m. But I didn’t have to read a report to know the truth.”

He shot her a look that held appreciation and admiration. And something else she couldn’t read. “Thank you, Bree.”

She nodded and took a long sip of coffee.

“So now you’re on this quest for two reasons—you knew a woman who died at the hands of this possible bomber and...you owe it to Jordan and now the new chief, his brother Noah, to show your true merit?”

He studied her, probably looking for a judgmental frown. When she didn’t give him one, he nodded. “Yes, I guess that’s it in a nutshell. This is important to me.”

Brianne leaned forward. “So you’re after the Tick. What’s the plan?”

“Well, I’m after him, but I’m also after the people who’ve hired him. This is a classic case of intimidation. Mafia-style.” Glancing around, he made sure they were alone. “After comparing a couple of random explosions around Manhattan, I’ve been discreetly asking questions, talking to wealthy investors, stuff like that. We’re talking seven figures or more—a lot of money. If someone is sabotaging developers and property owners by bombing buildings so they can step in and take over, it could only get worse from here.”

Confused and needing to know the bottom line, she asked, “But Gavin, you’re a K-9 cop. You’re usually not involved in the investigative part. I can’t believe the department agreed to this.”

His expression went from hopeful to disappointed in a flash. “I’d been doing this on the side, on my own time, after I got a tip from Beanpole. But I kept Jordy up-to-date.” Sighing, he added, “After Jordy went missing and was found dead, I went to Noah to get permission to continue working on this case. You know the rest. This had to be put on hold. We all want to find Jordy’s killer. That’s top priority for the precinct.”

“But you’re still working on this, too, clearly.”

He nodded and then stared out into the street. “I’m not hiding it from Noah or anyone else. In fact, I think they’re all glad I’ve got something else to occupy me. Even though I’ve been cleared of any suspicion in Jordy’s death, I can’t shake the doubters who still aren’t sure.”

Beginning to understand, she said, “But if you solve this case, you’d look better in everyone’s eyes, right?”

“I hope so. Bree, I didn’t always get along with Jordy but...I respected him. He was a good cop and a good leader. I need this—not only because of that, but because this man is getting bolder with each bomb. He has to be stopped.”

Brianne didn’t know what to say. Good officers knew working without backup was never the best plan. Glad he’d been upfront with the chief, she said, “You shouldn’t go it alone. Have you talked to the FBI and Homeland Security any more?”

“They’ve been informed. Those in charge know Tommy and I are good at what we do. As long as I don’t interfere in their cases, I’m clear. I have to report back, of course. Besides, I’m not technically undercover. I’ve just trying to build a solid case—on my own time and in my own way.”

“This is an unusual situation,” she said. “I know a lot of detectives who are deep undercover. They give up everything to do their jobs.”

“Yes, but my job is bomb detection and...I can’t let this one go. Tommy found something at that site, and I think he recognized that man yesterday after Stella alerted. I took this on because my gut tells me this man is so close. And based on Beanpole’s vague description of him, I think that could have been him. I haven’t figured out why he’d bomb the park, but it could have been a distraction. I can’t talk to anyone much about it per Noah’s orders, but the NYPD is well aware of the situation and they’ve got people on it, too. I thought I could trust you, though, since you were there.”

“And then you got this wild idea that we could both work this case, possibly undercover as husband and wife?”

“Something like that. It’s stupid, I know. But...I need evidence, and most of the detectives I know are swamped and all in on their own cases.” He took a sip of coffee. “As you know, I rent out a room in the house in Valley Stream I inherited from my Granny Irene. My roommate’s so deep undercover, I get rent money from a PO box and I haven’t seen him since he vouched for me three months ago—right before he started this new case.”

A streak of lightning made a jagged dance over the skyscrapers and then a roar of thunder shook the sky. The flowers in the dish gardens bent in the brisk wind.

“We’d better get inside,” he said, his tone gruff now.

Brianne stood. “I want to hear more,” she said. “All of it. Then I’ll decide.”

“Forget I mentioned it.”

She slanted her eyebrow up. “Oh, no. This conversation is not over.”

The lightning flashed again. Brianne turned away from the street to give Stella a command so they could move inside.

Before she could get to the door, the rain started coming down. Gavin glanced at an approaching SUV and then back at her, his eyes filling with apprehension.

In the next instance, he jumped across the table and covered her, pushing her down, rain pouring around them.

But something else also poured out along with the rain.

Bullets.

FOUR

Gavin didn’t have time to think.

He dove over Brianne, his body covering hers as the dark SUV sped by, one tinted side-window in the back open enough to show the tip of a long-barreled revolver. With a silencer.

But even with that silencer, he could still hear the hiss of a projectile coming straight toward them.

While he held her, bullets ricocheted off bricks and iron, one hitting the umbrella where they’d just been sitting, the force ripping the sturdy canvas apart. After what seemed like a lifetime of seconds, the SUV peeled away, wet tires spinning.

For one moment, everything went silent and then everyone moved at once.

The two officers who’d gone inside just minutes earlier came rushing out, weapons drawn.

“Hey, are you guys okay?”

“Shots fired.” Gavin looked down at Brianne. He’d knocked her down so quickly, her hair had tumbled out around her face. “You hit?”

“No, no,” she said, her breath rising. “How about you?”

“I’m fine.”

“The dogs?”

Gavin checked Stella who sat loyally beside where Brianne had landed, her ears up and her eyes on alert. Tommy did the same. These two weren’t trained to attack but they wouldn’t back off either if push came to shove. “They’re good. A tough combo.”

Brianne reached out a hand and touched Stella’s furry head. “Good girl.”

He sat back and then leaped up, offering her a hand. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

“I’m fine,” she said, grabbing hold, her hand sending little currents of warmth straight to his heart. “My knee is still bruised and cut from falling yesterday in the park and I’ll probably have a bruise on my elbow where I hit the concrete when...when you dived over me.”

“Sorry,” he said, unable to stop staring at her. “I saw the barrel of a gun and went into action.”

“We’d better stay in action,” she said, her expression hard to read. “We should contain the scene.”

Gavin looked around, his mind refocusing. Lou came hurrying out, oblivious to the rain or any shooters, his salt-and-pepper hair standing straight up. “Get inside,” he said, worry in his tone.

One of the patrol officers nodded. “Go on. We’ve called it in. but we didn’t see the vehicle or the shooter.”

“The vehicle—a black Denali,” Gavin replied. “I didn’t get the tag numbers. I’ll see if I can remember any details when we file a report. Could have been random.”

“Right,” the younger of the two said. “Two cops sitting on a patio. An easy target.”

Lou studied the street, his expression grim. “Who knows these days? We had that shooting when Sophie Walters was targeted, but that man’s dead now. Then Eva Kendall’s nephew Mikey got taken from here, remember? Glad they found the boy safe and sound.”

He shrugged and then held his hands up in defeat. “Maybe I should just sell the place.” He turned to go back inside but whirled around. “This time might have been a warning for me. Someone really wants to buy this property, but I keep refusing to sell. Different real estate agents come by all the time, smart-mouthing.”

Gavin shot a glance to Brianne. “Lou, are you being strong-armed?”

Lou shook his head. “I have been but I handled it. Just braggish folks with business cards and big offers. You know, gentrification. As if anyone around here wants to become more refined, know what I mean? I refused all offers, of course. But today, they might have fired their first warning shot directly at me. If this keeps up, we’ll lose business and I’ll be forced to shut things down.”

“Like I said,” Gavin replied to the officers. “Random? Or maybe not.”

“We’ve got this,” the other one said. “Get inside and dry off.”

“Bree, let’s go in and talk about what happened.”

She fixed her hair, her skin and uniform soaked. “What’s to talk about? They shot at us, right? Whether they were targeting Lou or us, we’re in this. I’m not going inside.”

He nodded, worrying, calculating.

Brianne studied the porch and the street. “I don’t think this was random, Gavin. So I’d like to help process the scene.”

“We can agree on that,” he said, his tone grim. “Did you see anything?”

“No. I should have been more alert.”

“Except I had you distracted with my lamebrain plan.”

“We’re not done with that,” she reminded him.

The rain softened into a drizzle but since they were both drenched they didn’t care. “Let’s check for bullet fragments,” she said. “The rain might not let up and it’s washing away evidence.”

“I saw a black SUV, a late model Denali. I didn’t get a license plate number. But then we see those all over town all the time. Hired drivers.”

“And Lou doesn’t have video footage to the street.”

“Nope. But the transportation department does. I’ll get Danielle’s team on that.”

They walked the patio, lifting bullet fragments for balistics and taking statements. The rain ended and a hot scalding sun came out to make their wet uniforms even stickier. The patrol officers cordoned off the patio until they’d cleared the scene.

Lou brought out water and offered them coffee. “Find anything?”

“Nope,” Gavin said. “But we’ll try to figure it out.” Then he touched Lou’s beefy arm. “I’ll need to sit down with you later and hear more about the people trying to buy you out.”

Lou shrugged. “People have been trying to buy me out since I opened the diner over thirty years ago. I don’t plan on going anywhere. Not without a fight, at least.”

Gavin wondered about that. And he wondered if the people who seemed to be targeting Lou might also be after Gavin now, too. Did they know he’d been asking around? Did they assume he was snooping on Lou’s behalf?

“Can I get you anything else?” the older man asked, clearly rattled. Barbara came out and tried to tug them all inside, her face etched in worry.

They worked the scene in quiet and then went inside to interview the patrons and Lou and Barb. No one had anything new to add. Most of the diners had been cleared to leave.

“We’ve had a couple of real estate agents handing out cards and telling us how much we can get for the property,” Barb said. “We didn’t think anything of it and Lou politely told them we didn’t want to sell.”

“They weren’t polite,” Lou told them. “But you know how that goes. Firm and with greed glowing in their eyes. I threw their cards in the trash.”

He barely remembered what they looked like, so not much to go on there. “Violet was here the other day when a woman came by and handed me a card. She might be able to describe the woman better. I had people shouting for food so I hurried away.”

As if on cue, Violet showed up, pushing her way through the bystanders and the yellow police tape. Hugging her parents close, she turned to Gavin. “What happened?”

Gavin brought her up to speed. “Everyone is okay but I need to ask you some questions.”

“Sure,” she said, her dark hair caught up in a clip. “What’s up?”

“Look, no one was hurt but Lou says they’ve been approached by some pesky real estate brokers trying to get them to sell out. Lou thinks the bullets might have been a warning for you guys. Do you know anything about that?”

“I talked to a woman once,” Violet said, her voice shaky, her arm on her father’s shoulder. “She was persistent and maybe a little threatening. Do you think they’d resort to this kind of harassment? Are my parents in danger?”

Barb and Lou patted her on the arm. “Honey, we’re fine,” Lou said over and over.

Gavin needed to consider that angle, but he didn’t have the answer right now. “I think it could have been for Bree and me, but we can’t be sure.” He thanked her for the information.

Assuring her that her parents were okay, he promised to alert Violet’s fiancé, Zach—a fellow K-9 officer—just in case. “We’ll keep watch, either way.”

“Thanks,” Gavin said to Barbara after she’d handed them both a to-go box of fresh food since they hadn’t finished their breakfasts. “I’m going back to headquarters.”

“Same here,” Brianne said. “I drove but I have a clean uniform in my locker.”

“I came here first, too, and found a parking place around the corner.”

Her brow scrunched. “I’ll see you back at the station”

“Okay. Watch your back.”

Before they left to go their separate ways, she turned to Gavin. “I don’t know why I’m saying this but...I really do want to hear more about your case, Gavin.”

“I thought you were against it.”

“No, I just like to do things by the book. If you need my help, that’s fine. But...we clear it with Noah, understand? Let him know you need me on the case and explain why.”

“I don’t know—”

“You’re already on their radar. If you’ve been cleared to work on this, that’s cool. I need to get clearance, too. We can’t be too careful, considering.”

“What do you want me to do, Brianne? I took this case and then Jordy died and...I made a mess of things. I need something to focus on.”

“We do have something to focus on—finding Chief Jameson’s killer and searching for the Fourth of July bomber.”

“I want to find the Tick, too. I’ve just got a hunch that they could be one and the same. And now this. It could all be tied together, especially if they’ve decided to target Lou, too.”

“I want to find that bomber we saw in the park. I don’t like this place being shot up, and Lou could be a target now. But we continue to do it by the book or...I’ll never work with you again.”

She turned and marched off, her shoulders straight, her hair still trying to escape the messy bun she’d managed to fix.

Gavin watched her head to her SUV across the way. He checked the windows of buildings around the area. Had he made a big mistake by telling her what he’d been up to? Now he had to consider someone had just shot at this building. Who? Why?

Lou had been upfront about someone wanting to buy him out, but what if he had been pressured way more than any of them knew?

Hurrying to his vehicle, Gavin got caught up in a traffic jam caused by construction. While he sat there waiting for the workers to finish their task, Gavin thought about his grandmother, Irene. She’d died five years ago, leaving him her home and a modest savings account. His grandmother had raised him after his mother, Phyllis, had given birth out of wedlock. Phyllis, still a teenager, had run away when he’d been only a month old and hadn’t come back. Irene, who’d become a widow at an early age, had cared for him and sent him to college, all the while working as a nurse her entire life. She’d only been retired a year or so when her health turned bad.

He’d never had to prove himself to Granny Irene. She loved him with a tough love but he knew he could always count on her. His grandmother lived by faith and she’d planted that seed in his heart. He didn’t talk about his faith much, but he tried hard to live up to Irene’s strong belief system.

Checking on Tommy in the back, Gavin said, “Hey, boy. We should have walked back to work, huh?”

Tommy woofed his agreement and did a circle inside the kennel. Always ready to roll.

At least he had a solid house with a small yard for Tommy. Small but intact, the two-story wooden row house had a narrow front porch. It belonged to him, no matter how many real estate agents told him he could make a fortune flipping it and selling it.

Maybe that also had something to do with how this particular case bothered him. His grandfather had been a fairly successful businessman and had bought the house, built in the 1940s, for a modest price over fifty years ago.

After his grandfather’s death in a traffic accident, his grandmother had raised his wayward mother there. He’d never sell, even if Valley Stream was now a coveted area. But the place stayed in a continuous state of remodeling and updating. It had a nice backyard for Tommy and room enough for the both of them and his rarely-there roommate. That’s all Gavin needed.

Or so he’d thought until Brianne had come into his life. Working with her now and then over the last few weeks, helping her to train Stella and getting to know her better had only made him more aware of her. The woman had a sweet heart behind a solid wall of feminine steel.

Holding her there after the shooting this morning, he’d felt something powerful and true, the kind of emotions a man hides inside his heart. Gavin didn’t know how to deal with all the possibilities swirling inside his head. He needed to keep a professional attitude regarding Brianne Hayes.

Now he’d put her in a bad position.

He had to trust her. He needed a partner to help him crack this case. A female who could pose as his rich wife so they could attend open houses and get information on properties without looking suspicious. Brianne had the backbone and the nerves to pull off a high-risk undercover job, but he wondered now if he should put her in the line of fire.

Neither of them had been trained to do this kind of work. Noah had cautioned him against pursuing this, but Gavin wasn’t giving up just yet. If those bullets had been meant to scare him, they had not succeeded. A new determination made him want to do his job.

Fifteen minutes later, traffic started moving again and Gavin drove to headquarters, parked, then opened the back to let Tommy out of the vehicle. Together they headed for the indoor practice area like they’d done a thousand times before. As he gave Tommy some playtime, he wondered what Bree was doing. He didn’t see her or Stella in the training arena. A few minutes later, his phone buzzed.

Brianne.

She’d said she wanted to know more and that she wanted to help him. Did Brianne Hayes really care at all?

He hit Accept and waited to see, torn between needing her help and wanting to protect her.

“Gavin, meet me in the small conference room upstairs,” she said, her words breathless. “We got a call from the FBI. We might have a lead on the Fourth of July bomber.”

“I’ll be right there.”

Gavin put away his phone and forgot about his damp uniform.

He wanted to see if they’d found the man in the park.

Because he felt pretty sure the man who’d placed bombs in the East River Park could also be the same bomber who’d been setting off small explosions for the past few months. First thing, he’d report his suspicions to Noah. This case had taken another turn and since several law enforcement agencies were involved, he wanted full transparency. No mistakes.

They might have found the elusive man everyone on the streets called the Tick. The man knew they’d seen him last night. If the Tick had reported seeing them to whoever was paying him, then Gavin felt sure he’d been made and the Tick’s boss had sent someone to rattle him this morning.

Did he dare bring Brianne into that kind of trap?

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