Page 3 of K-9 Confidential

Charlie Acker had managed to stay off his radar for a decade. There was no telling how many skills she’d picked up in that time or how many favors she’d called in, knowing she had to come back here. “Back in the day, I learned Charlie had a safe house outside of Vaughn. From what I could tell, nobody in Acker’s army knew about it. There was a code members had to stick to, especially the general’s daughters. Loyalty is prized above all else. You stick with your kind, stay in the confines of town, but she managed to slide one by them. Bought it under an alias. She was careful whenever she went out there. Only reason I discovered the place was by accident. It’s been abandoned since the bombing.”

“You think she’d chance going back there?” Ivy asked.

“If she was desperate.” He collected the photo from the top of the pile. A side-angle shot of Charlie Acker. “And something tells me if she’s back, she’s desperate.”

“Take Zeus. Check it out.” Ivy Bardot rose to her feet with a grace that shouldn’t have been possible for a woman of her skill set and gathered the surveillance photos. “If Charlie’s there, bring her in for questioning. I want to know what the hellSangre por Sangreis up to before it’s too late.”

“You got it.” Granger tossed the photo back on the top of the pile and headed for the door.

“And, Granger,” Ivy said from behind. “Be careful.”

He didn’t have a response for that. The work he and his team did didn’t come with kid gloves. More like as many blades as they could carry. They wedged themselves into unwanted dark places and pried secrets from shadows that never wanted to be exposed. They took down cartel lieutenants, demolished hideouts and drove evil back to where it came from—all to protect the innocent lives caught up in the violence.

He let the office door swing closed behind him and carved a path through the building’s rebuilt maze of hallways and corridors. White cracks still stretched down black-painted walls as contractors worked to systematically patch the damage done bySangre por Sangre’s attack three weeks ago. Though Granger suspected it would take more than drywall and mud to erase the past.

He rolled his aching shoulder back as he shoved into his private room. Dr. Piel—Socorro’s resident physician—had gotten most of the bullet he’d taken during the attack, but not even she’d been able to get the last piece of shrapnel out without disabling his arm for good. He made his way to his private quarters and kicked the door with the toe of his boot. Quiet. Too quiet.

Scanning his room, he stilled. Waiting. “I know you’re in here, and the fact you’re being quiet makes me think you got into something you shouldn’t have.”

A low groan registered from the other side of the bed.

Granger took his time as he rounded the built-in desk and cabinets and the end of the messy bed he never bothered making anymore. He sat, noting a single camel-colored leg sticking out from beneath the bed frame. “Zeus.”

The four-year-old bull terrier pulled his leg out of sight.

“I can see you.” Keeping his weight off his right shoulder, Granger slid to the floor to get an idea of what his K9 had gotten into. “You ate the entire pack of beef jerky, didn’t you?”

Another moan and the scent of teriyaki confirmed his suspicions.

Of all the K9 companions, he’d been the one to end up with a bull terrier suffering from a binge eating disorder. Granger dragged a handful of wrappers from under the bed. Bitten through. Not a single piece of meat left. “The only way you could’ve gotten to these is if you somehow learned how to fly, man. I’m going to have to install a camera in here.”

He grabbed onto Zeus’s back legs and pulled all eighty pounds of dog from underneath the bed. Granger scrubbed a hand along the K9’s side. Yep. Twelve full beef jerky sticks. “We had a deal. One a day if you follow your diet.”

A bright pink tongue darted out as though to communicate the dog wasn’t the least bit sorry about anything other than the upset stomach that was coming his way.

“Come on. We’ve got an assignment.” Granger shoved to stand and collected his gear. Within minutes, he and Zeus were descending to the garage. The K9 sniffed at the duffel bag with oversized black eyes. “No. These are my snacks. You already ate yours for the entire week.”

The elevator pinged, and the shiny silver doors deposited them into Socorro’s underground garage. Pain flared in Granger’s shoulder as he left the confines of the elevator car. The bloodstains had been scrubbed out of the cement, but his memories of facing off against a dozen cartel soldiers alone would stay with him forever.

Zeus hopped into the rear of the SUV as Granger tossed his gear into the back. In seconds, noonday sun cut across the hood of the vehicle, and he directed them northeast. Toward Moriarty, a town with at least fifty miles distance between it and Vaughn. Granger had driven this route four times since the Alamo pipeline bombing, each time knowing he wasn’t going to find what he was looking for. Each time not wanting to believe Charlie Acker had died along with her oldest sister in the terrorist attack that’d killed four others.

Except now they had proof she was still alive. That she was here in New Mexico. Granger’s hands seemed to flex around the steering wheel of their own accord as the miles passed, Zeus’s stomach growling the entire trip.

Breaking the borders of a town no one but two thousand people knew existed, he followed Route 66 to the opposite edge. Just far enough out of reach of nosy neighbors or unwanted guests. Scrub brush, cacti and dried grass swayed with the breeze, cutting across twenty-two acres purchased under a dead-end alias. In cash. Property taxes had been paid up front with a ten-year old money order sent directly to the city from a bank that no longer existed.

No way to trace it.

The house itself wasn’t much. A single-level rambler that looked more like a double-wide trailer than a home. Bright teal wooden handrails stood out against the white siding and led up to a too-small covered porch. Bars on the windows. Oversized boulders funneling visitors in front of the largest window out front. Charlie Acker might’ve bought this place to escape Vaughn and her father’s prepper army, but old habits died hard.

Granger threw the SUV into Park and loaded a bullet into the barrel of his sidearm before pushing out of the vehicle. Zeus huffed in annoyance as he hit the gravel driveway. Nothing but the sound of the wind reached his ears, but he was experienced enough to know silence hid all kinds of things from human perception. He took his time, moving slow to the north side of the house. The breaker box opened easily. All switches were active. The place had power.

No point in going for the front door. That was where she would’ve put most of her security measures. Granger and Zeus rounded to the back. He tested the laundry room door and twisted the knob. The door fell inward. No explosives. Nothing poised to spring out of the dark.

A low growl rumbled in Zeus’s chest.

Granger ventured a single step inside, weapon raised.

The barrel of a gun pressed against his temple from the left. “Toss your weapons. Now.”

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