Page 19 of Armed ’N’ Ready

As he lit the grill, Andi Hardt’s lightly tanned, peaches ’n’ cream complexion came to mind. Between his time in the military, then ten years with the state police, three of which had been with SWAT, he’d had a lot of things thrown at him…sticks, rocks, bullets, even grenades…but never a bar of soap or a bottle of shampoo.

Taking the beer with him, he sat in one of his Adirondack chairs, positioning himself to watch Saxon walk up one side of the teeter-totter he’d bought to hone the dog’s balance. Like people, some K-9s’ sense of balance was better than others, and Nick had noticed his dog occasionally hesitated on nonstationary surfaces. The teeter-totter was the perfect training mechanism.

Saxon tensed as the back end of the teeter-totter he’d walked up lifted until both ends of the narrow board were in the air. For a moment his dog froze, waiting for the board to level off before walking slowly down the other side.

Nick grinned as Saxon pirouetted on the grass. He was improving every day, but he wanted his dog in peak condition and ready for anything.

He leaned back to watch Saxon take off like a gazelle and race along the fence line.

The phone in his shirt pocket vibrated. He pulled it out and looked at the display. Cox.

“Sorry to intrude on your evening,” Cox said when Nick answered. “Thought you’d want to know ASAP. Bennett approved your plan. You’ve been green-lighted to do whatever it takes to bring Myer in. Eric will be your backup.”

Nick did a quick fist pump. “I’ll hit her up tomorrow morning.”

“You think she’ll really go for it?” Cox asked.

“She will if she wants to clear her name and get her money back.”

“Good points.” Cox chuckled. “We’ve been monitoring her cell phone continuously. Myer called once, and we had a female agent answer. He must have recognized that it wasn’t Andi, because he hung up. We tried calling him back, but it went right to voicemail.”

“No surprise. He wants to talk only to her.” Making the success of his op all the more critical.

Saxon trotted up the stairs and sat directly in front of Nick. The dog’s ears twitched, and he cocked his head. Anytime Nick got on his cell phone there was the likelihood they’d be doing his dog’s favorite thing: working.

He pointed to the floor of the deck, and Saxon lay down, resting his massive head between his paws, but his eyes remained focused on Nick.

Through the phone, he heard Cox yawning. “I ordered a more complete background check on Andi Hardt and an updated set of financials, but it could be a week or more before we get everything back, and the AUSA doesn’t want to wait. If Myer winds up dead before we get to him, our case goes out the window.”

The phone clicked. “Stand by,” Cox said, telling Nick the agent had gotten another call. “That was Andi Hardt,” Cox said when he came back on a minute later. “Someone broke into Myer’s house and trashed it.”

Nick suppressed a groan. His evening of relaxation had just gone to shit.

Chapter Five

Andi sat in her truck in front of the house, rocking back and forth as she waited impatiently for Agent Cox to arrive. Her stomach twisted into knots, and she rocked faster, biting her lower lip. Cox didn’t have to tell her to wait outside, because she had less than zero intention of going in there alone. Based upon what little she’d seen, whoever had done this was angry. Really angry.

Sofa and chair cushions slashed open and thrown to the floor, white springy stuffing everywhere. Furniture broken as if someone had taken an ax to things. She could only imagine the damage inflicted on the rest of the house.

Groaning, she replayed her conversation with Special Agent Cox. She’d railed at the poor man, mistakenly assuming he and his band of merry agents and state troopers had returned to search the house again after she’d left for the DPC. “What a jackass I am.”

There’d been no need for them to come back and trash the place. Logic aside, there was something so violent about the way the house had been ransacked, as if whoever had done this wanted to send a message. A thoroughly mean message.

She let out an unsteady breath, thankful she hadn’t been there when they’d broken in. Who knew what they would have done to her?

Engines purred as two vehicles came down the road then slowed before pulling into the driveway. The first was a black Charger, and the second was a state police Explorer. Nick Houston? Perhaps, although just because it was a state police vehicle didn’t mean it was him behind the wheel. The state police must have hundreds of officers. But when the Explorer came to a stop, she noticed the K-9 emblem on the side door panel, and her heart beat a little faster. After the embarrassing shower debacle, she’d prefer to never lay eyes on him again.

She left her truck parked on the street and headed up the driveway. Cox got out of the Charger. A moment later, Nick Houston rounded the hood of the Explorer, pausing to look at the house across the street, then to the properties on either side of Joe’s.

Nervous energy invaded her body. Something about seeing Nick again made her feel… What? She struggled to find the correct word to describe her prickly, charged response to the man’s presence. Annoyed? No, that didn’t explain her nervousness. Edgy? Yes, definitely that, but why? Because he has a badge and a gun? No. Cox was a gun-toting, badge-carrying federal agent, but he didn’t elicit any of those feelings in her, not even close. Make that not at all.

Unlike Cox’s, Nick’s sharp gaze didn’t immediately settle on her the second he got out of his vehicle. As she joined them in front of the house, he continued surveying his surroundings, searching for threats with subtle yet calculated glances. The man had a soldier-like air of invincibility about him, as if no one could get past his deadly defenses.

“Ms. Hardt,” he said, coming to stand beside her, and when he canted his head, she noted the color of his hair reminded her of sandy New England beaches and caramel. Rich sandy-brown.

“Call me Andi.” She cleared her throat, focusing on his eyes, which were softer than gunmetal gray, her original assessment. More like sterling silver with a touch of blue. Blue steel. “After all, since I’m still a suspect there may be silver bracelets in my future, and I like to be on a first-name basis with any man who gives me jewelry.”

His lips twitched. Full, sensual lips. And was that a glimmer of humor twinkling in his eyes?