It was then he knew she’d turned to look out the side window when she said, “When will all that stuff be over? It feels like we’ve lived it for eternity.”
Those words hit him in the gut because she was absolutely fucking right, it did.
But it never occurred to him she shared that with him.
He thought she’d gone on to live her life with her sugar daddy, and he was not unaware that she kept tabs on him, but he refused to allow himself to think on that or why she’d do something like that, telling himself she was screwed in the head and that was all the reason anyone like that needed to do anything.
But far more recently, he’d also been refusing to see that she’d been just as haunted by all of this since things ended between them as he had.
And she hadn’t kept tabs on him, her husband had.
But she’d absolutely lived those years just like him, being haunted by all the shit that had gone down that led to the end of them.
He didn’t comment on any of that. He couldn’t even take the headspace to process it.
Not then.
He said, “When people like that infest your life, sometimes it’s never over.”
“Yes, I’m sure that’s how Lonnie’s parents feel.”
She said that and fell quiet again.
That time, Coert broke it.
“You really never went to visit her?”
“I do believe your colleagues probably shared that we had a rather dramatic altercation when I visited her in the police station.”
He couldn’t help it, he grinned at that because that was not only shared, it was on tape and he’d watched it.
She’d gone apeshit on Maria.
And even with a glass partition separating them, Maria had gone apeshit right back.
“He was messed up but he was a good guy,” she said pensively. “He was funny and sweet and he’d do anything for you. He had a crush on me and that wasn’t right but you can’t control who you like. I know that wasn’t his worst transgression but he didn’t deserve that.” She took a moment and finished quietly, “He didn’t deserve that.”
“No, Cady, he didn’t deserve that.”
They drove the rest of the way to the pound in silence and he knew they both had their heads in the same place, and that place was all over the place, none of it good.
When they got inside the shelter, Coert took the lead.
Without preamble or greeting, he declared, “She needs an adult dog, not too old, well-behaved, large, protective, loyal, unfriendly to strangers with a loud bark.”
The shelter worker stared up at him with her mouth open.
Coert was about to prompt her to get her ass moving and show them some dogs when he felt Cady sidle up next to him, and then he felt her knuckles graze his before her fingers closed around his own.
And for the first time since he put it together, he was not thinking of Lars or his daughter’s safety or Cady being in danger.
He was thinking about a memory that had remained vivid since the event happened when he was twelve and he was teasing his father about holding hands with his mother.
His father had been smiling but his voice was stern in a way that captured Coert’s full attention, and that and what he’d said created an unforgettable memory when he’d replied, “Trust me, when you find her, the woman you’ll wanna spend the rest of your life with will always be the girl you wanna hold her hand.”
He’d held hands with a lot of girls and his fair share of women.
But he and Cady didn’t move anywhere if they were in close proximity without his fingers curled around hers.
He’d missed her smell. He’d missed those green eyes. He’d missed the feel of her hair. He’d missed his hands on her ass. He’d missed her sense of humor. He’d missed how she might not have had a lot of experience in bed, but she was the best he’d ever had not (only) because of her enthusiasm, but because she was so fucking into him, she’d loved him so fucking much, that spilled out—especially when he had his hands and mouth on her, his cock inside her.
But there had been more times than any of those since he’d lost her that he’d missed just holding her hand.
Moving slowly like he was forcing his way through molasses, he looked down at her to see she was sending a gentle smile up to him.
“You can’t custom order them, honey,” she whispered.
He had no fucking clue what she was talking about.
He just knew he never wanted to move from that spot in that position staring down in those green eyes with her fingers wrapped around his for the rest of his life.
She was not caught in the same spell, he knew, when she turned to the shelter worker and said, “Can you just show us to the pups?”
At her last word, Coert forced himself to pull it together and squeezed her fingers.
“You’re not getting a puppy, Cady,” he told her when she looked at him.
“They’re all pups, Coert,” she replied.
“That’s very true,” the shelter worker finally spoke.
Cady shot her a grin before she turned into Coert and tipped her head way back.
“We’re here, we’re safe,” she said under her breath. “I’ll go look at dogs and you probably have some calls you want to make.”
He did and she was right.
She could look at dogs and he could make sure shit was in motion to find Lars.
He nodded.
Her face got soft, her fingers closed tighter around his and then she let him go and walked away with the shelter worker.
Coert spent forty-five minutes getting briefed from his senior deputy then calling Denver to give Malc and Tom a heads up about what was happening and getting them started on their end of the chase.
He’d find it was forty-four and a half minutes too long when he followed where Cady had disappeared and saw her in the middle of a wide hall in a large room filled with big cages on either side, most having dogs in them.
He tried not to look.
If he looked, Janie would also be getting a dog (or three) and he needed to take care of a dog as well as his daughter and a whole county like he needed someone to drill a hole in his head.
Cady was on her ass on the floor and she had a dog out of its cage. The dog was sitting between her legs, letting her pet it and looking like it was enjoying the attention if the amount of licking of her face the dog was attempting was anything to go by.
At first glance, it appeared she’d chosen well. The dog was large, formidable (not counting the licking) and looked like it had a lot of German shepherd in it.
Then he got closer, the dog went on alert, awkwardly getting on all fours, and the shelter worker moved cautiously toward the pair.
“Cady, no,” he said before he even arrived at them. “That dog’s lame.”
And it was, its left rear leg was holding some of its weight but not much, it was misshapen, having been injured so badly it clearly was unable to heal properly.
“She’s beautiful,” Cady murmured, hands in the dog’s ruff trying to get her to turn her attention back to Cady.
“Cady—”
Her head tipped back and Coert shut his mouth at the look on her face.
“Her name is Gorgeous Midnight Magic,” she whispered reverently. “Isn’t that perfect?”
Shit.
“Cady—”
“She’s purebred German shepherd, black,” the shelter worker said. “We were given her history and an elderly gentleman answered an ad for her in the paper. Her owners said her back leg was caught in a trap, but the gentleman was suspicious of this information and regardless that she was lame and exhibiting some behavior he found concerning, took her on. A vet confirmed his suspicions that the injury wasn’t due to a trap, but to abuse and the fact the injury received no medical attention, so it never healed as it should have.”
Shit.
The worker continued, “The gentleman unfortunately passed not long after and as his daughter and son both had a number of pets, they had to bring her here. She’s been with us for a while, and so we find her the right home, I have to disclose she has issues when it storms. She displays those mostly just trembling and hiding, usually in closets.”
Fucking shit.