Gabe (In the Company of Snipers, #8)(54)

He loomed over her, blocking the view of the kitchen behind him. “Oh, I know. You only meant to help, but it’s unavoidable. Kelsey’s heart is broken. It’ll take time to heal. Might never.”

“Why are you leaving?” She bit her tongue for that stupid question. Let him leave. What do I care?

“Because if Alex is the one who pulled her out of the river, his scent will still be on the riverbank. His dogs will track him. Do this one thing for me? Please?”

Gah! If he hadn’t cocked his head like a little boy pleading for another chocolate chip cookie, she’d have been safe, but no. He blinked those deep greens at her as if he knew it would work, and darn it. It did. Not like she would’ve refused anyway, but this little game they had going on was working on her last line of defense against this guy.

And those eyes. Gabe had a fringe of eyelashes that deepened the mossy hue of his irises. Pure, clear green, the color of river rocks on the north bank where sunlight didn’t shine. The kind of green that made a woman wonder what it might feel like to rest within their serenity for a moment. Or two.

She couldn’t resist him, much less his request to keep Kelsey happy. That was the only reason she was there, after all. For Kelsey. Only Kelsey.

But then he made it worse, the tease. He pursed his lips, as if he’d pout to get his way if he thought it would make her smile. The man had some serious charm, but he was one of those types of guys she’d never be attracted to in a million years only—she was.

The darn flirt.

Shelby stabbed at her glasses, not that they’d moved since the last time she’d stabbed them. A knot stuck in her throat. Had to be nerves. Couldn’t be anything else.

“Be careful,” her hoarse voice croaked out.

“Yes, ma’am, for you, I will.” A warm glint flickered to life in those sexy eyes. He reached his index finger to brush her bangs off of her glasses. He only touched the frames, not her skin, but the jolt to her senses frightened her. The guy had his nerve, but—

He didn’t touch me. Didn’t he want to?




It didn’t take long to load the dogs and get back to the scene of the accident. Gabe parked his Land Rover at the edge of the riverbank. He’d worn a light jacket to cover his holstered pistols. It held two extra magazines in the pockets, nine rounds each. He’d also brought his gear bag along with his mini-camcorder and one of Alex’s shirts, though he doubted the dogs needed it. Whisper and Smoke knew their master. This wouldn’t take long.


With his mini-cam already running in his left hand, he opened the rear gate of his vehicle. Panning to the left to orient his viewing audience, he began the show, “As you can see, we’re back at the river. It’s a sunny day. Traffic on the highway behind me is light. Feels like a light breeze from the southeast.” He panned back to the two eager noses in the back of his ride. “Whisper? Smoke? Are you boys ready to rock and roll? Let’s do this. Find Alex.”

Like that was hard for them to do. Whisper and Smoke shot out of the vehicle and raced to the river’s edge, sniffing through the ruts and mud. They seemed yoked together by an invisible leash, both noses to the ground and working. After following a short trail along the river, they tracked to the edge of the road and dropped to their haunches, signaling they’d done their job.

In less than two minutes.

Damn. That was quick.

He crouched with Whisper, the camcorder capturing both dogs’ snouts as well as his fingers examining the ground at their paws. The tow truck had left enough ruts and heavy tread marks to validate this was the correct piece of riverbank. No doubt about that, but the attempted murder had occurred well over a week ago. Could Whisper and Smoke be wrong?

“Was he here?” Gabe asked, wishing they could verbalize what they seemed sure of. “Did you scent Alex?”

Whisper growled. Smoke offered one quick little, “Yip.”

If only they could talk.

To be sure, Gabe walked back to his vehicle. He hadn’t really expected they’d find Alex so fast, but now that they had, anger smoldered. He jerked his boss’s shirt off the front seat where he’d left it and marched back to the dogs. Pressing it to both of their snouts, he told them again, “Find Alex.”

Whisper didn’t even budge. He whined in a deep, growly kind of voice and slapped one bear-sized paw to the ground, as if saying, I already did, dummy. He was right here.

No wonder Kelsey claimed he could talk. Smoke, on the other hand, backtracked to the shoreline before he returned to sit beside his kennelmate.

Gabe rolled the knot out of his neck, getting more and more pissed at his supposedly dead and buried boss. That sonofabitch.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” he said semi-cheerfully for the sake of his audience. “That sneaky boss of mine might just be alive. Good enough. Let’s see what else you boys can find while we’re here.”

He walked the road with the dogs at his side, fuming at the man he used to respect almost as much as his father. How dare that bastard hurt Kelsey? The TEAM? Gabe’s fists curled. Alex was alive, damn it, and he wanted to beat the living shit out of him.

And yet...

Who’d gotten shot if not Alex? It sure as hell had looked like him. Whose life did I try so damned hard to save? Who’s right—the dogs or my eyes? My hands?

Time for a commercial break. He hit the camcorder’s stop button and called Zack. “You’re not going to believe this.”