Page 9 of K-9 Confidential

Pricks of sunlight pierced through the bag over her head, but not enough to gauge where they were taking her.

Charlie stumbled forward at a push from behind, only managing to catch herself by taking small steps. They’d secured her wrists behind her back with zip ties. Didn’t they realize she’d been brought up just like them? It would take more than zip ties to hold her back. Small rocks worked into her boots as they walked. “You didn’t have to knock him out.”

“Mouth closed. Keep moving.” It was the same soldier, the one who’d taken charge and clocked Granger with the butt of his rifle. The distinct sound of dragging punctured through the pound of her heart. They had to carry Granger now that he was unconscious. And where was Zeus?

A whine pierced her ears. The bull terrier was struggling without orders it seemed.

Charlie tried to distract herself from the sick feeling that’d taken hold as Granger had hit the ground. Her fists tugged against the zip ties, and she couldn’t contain the laugh sticking in her chest. Men like this particular soldier didn’t get to take charge. Not as long as her father was alive, and Daddy didn’t like to share the glory. She turned her head where she thought the soldier might be standing. “I’m going to remember you long after Henry Acker uses you up and discards you like the ones who’ve come before you.”

Pain speared across her back, and she launched forward. The ground rushed to meet her faster than she expected. Her shoulder caught the brunt. It was a miracle she managed not to hit her head. Something heavy lodged into her ribs and rolled her onto her back. A foot.

“I told you to keep your mouth shut.” Rough hands wrenched her to her feet and guided her a few more steps.

They were coming up on her father’s barn. Because it didn’t matter that they’d put a bag over her head to keep whatever secrets they had safe. She’d been born here, learned to walk here, ran laps around this property a thousand times. Every inch of Vaughn had been carved into her brain a long time ago. She knew exactly where they were headed.

The crunch of gravel beneath boots slowed. A heavy thud registered from her left as the soldier at her back pulled her to a stop. Despite the full-blown sun overhead, a chill took hold along her spine. November in the desert had always been magical to her. When nature seemed to freeze for a time, when she got a break from working the land and the livestock didn’t need her as much. It was a time of gratitude in her house. For what they’d accomplished and what they’d been blessed with throughout the season. When Henry Acker seemed more like the father she remembered than the hardened extremist he’d become after her mother’s death.

“Looks like we got visitors.” The gravelly voice accompanied a series of footsteps. Close but with enough distance to counter an attack. Just like he’d taught her.

“Trespassers, sir.”

“Caught them at the edge of town, the end of Magnolia.”

“Take the hoods off,” her father said.

Stinging pain ripped across her skull as the soldier who’d shoved her fisted the bag over her head and pulled. She automatically winced against the onslaught of blinding sun and didn’t see the next strike coming. The soldier launched his rifle into the back of her knee, and she collapsed.

“Don’t touch her!” The words were more predatorial than human. Shuffling kicked up dirt onto her hands and forearms as she caught sight of Granger fighting for release between two other soldiers. A fist rocketed into his gut and took him down to his knees. “I’m going to make you pay for that, you son of a bitch.”

Henry Acker didn’t need to see her face to recognize her, but Charlie got to her feet to face him all the same. To prove she could. The soldier at her back moved to subdue her again. Her father raised a hand to warn him off.

She breathed in the scent of dried-out hay, the odor from the chickens and the cooling scent of dropping temperatures as the sun reached the second half of the sky. So many memories battled for dominance here. Some good, some bad. But all of them hers. All of them combining to make her into the woman she was today. “Hi, Daddy.”

A wall of nervous energy hit her from behind. The soldier who’d brought her in hadn’t recognized her. She wasn’t surprised, given the ten or more years between them.

“The prodigal daughter returns.” Henry Acker let a half smile of amusement crease one side of his mouth as he wiped his hands clean with a work towel. Black smudges spread across the strong hands she’d once trusted to protect her. Never one to shy away from the work that needed to be done. One of the tractors must be out of commission. He motioned to Granger. “Who’s your friend?”

“Nobody you need to concern yourself with.” Charlie managed a glance at Granger. A dark bruise had already started forming alongside his face, but she couldn’t see any swelling. A concussion? “But I’d watch out for the dog, if I were you. He likes to sit on people.”

Zeus cocked his head to one side and parked his butt on the ground. Ever the loyal companion.

“Granger Morais.” Her partner wrenched out of the hold of both soldiers working to contain him.

“Morais. I remember the name. Homeland Security, right? You investigated the death of my firstborn after that attack on the Alamo pipeline. Sage.” Henry absently nodded. “You brought a federal agent into my town?”

Her father closed the distance between him and Charlie. He stuffed the rag in the back pocket of his worn jeans. That all-too-familiar shiver of his authority raced through her as he reached for her. Charlie tried to dodge his attempt at contact, but there was nowhere for her to run this time. He gripped her chin, giving her a full view of his aging face. “You’re bleeding.”

Acid charged into her throat at his touch.

“I fell.” Half-truths. That was how she’d managed to survive in Vaughn for so long while she and Granger strategized on how to dismantle Acker’s Army. The more honest she could be when talking to her father, the higher chance he’d continue to trust her. Charlie maneuvered out of his hold.

“I see.” Her father unholstered the gun at his right side, letting it dangle in his hand for a moment. “Do I have you to thank for that, Johnny?”

“I asked her to keep her mouth shut, sir.” Johnny. The soldier who’d bagged her and knocked Granger unconscious shifted his feet. He held onto the strap of his rifle as though to prove he belonged. “She refused.”

A low laugh rumbled through Henry Acker as he circled behind her. Charlie knew what was coming next, and she didn’t have the stomach to watch despite Johnny’s treatment of her. “Nobody lays a hand on my daughter.”

The first strike was the loudest, and a cringe cut through Charlie. Johnny’s cry didn’t come close to the sound of the butt of her father’s weapon against his skull. She tried to focus on Granger, on the rise and fall of his chest, of the pattern of the bruise on his face, but it didn’t help. The second strike accompanied a thud of the soldier’s body hitting the ground. No cry this time. Granger turned away from the attack. The third strike to Johnny’s head sounded more wet than any preceding it.

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