A Nose for Trouble Read online

  A Nose for Trouble

  Trinket Bay Series, Volume 1

  D. D. Line

  Published by Gumnut Press, 2020.

  This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

  A NOSE FOR TROUBLE

  First edition. December 2, 2020.

  Copyright © 2020 D. D. Line.

  ISBN: 978-0648709138

  Written by D. D. Line.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  About the Publisher

  CHAPTER ONE

  “PLEASE! DON’T SHOOT!”

  “Shut up bitch, or I’ll make you wish...”

  The stranger’s mirthless chuckle sent shivers through her.

  “Either way, you’re dead.”

  No. No. No.

  Still not looking at the creep taunting her, her gaze stayed locked on the man she loved. The one pointing his gun at her heart with no trace of emotion or recognition on his face.

  “Please?”

  “Either you shoot her, or I will. We don’t need her squealing her way back to the pigpen.” The stranger’s laugh sounded like a snarl. “Don’t forget her partner. That mongrel is around here somewhere.”

  No! Not Charlie. He wouldn’t.

  “Don’t you dare do it. You can’t.”

  No sound came from her lover’s lips.

  “Don’t hurt her!”

  “Jeez, chatty piece. She knows you. Don’t deny it.”

  When her lover stayed silent, the stranger stepped closer and pointed his rifle at her head.

  “Maybe she’ll tell me—”

  “Yeah, boss, you could say that. Picked her up one night at a pub. Hell of a weekend, wasn’t it, love?”

  Ellie gasped.

  Why was he lying?

  “You idiot! Couldn’t you tell you picked up a frigging cop?”

  The stranger’s rifle aimed at her lover to emphasise its owner’s disgust.

  “What can I tell you? I like living dangerously. She wasn’t wearing a badge, and I wasn’t looking for conversation.”

  The stranger roared with laughter and her blood ran cold, but it was nowhere near as bracing as the ice forming around her heart.

  “You better hope it’s dumb luck that brought her here tonight, because if she followed you―”

  “No one followed me,” her lover said, cutting off the implied accusation.

  Ellie saw movement on the other side of the truck, and it also distracted them. The stranger hefted his rifle, sparing Ellie an enigmatic glance before tossing her hand gun across to her lover. Her cheek throbbed as she tracked it, the pain reminding her how he’d overpowered and then disarmed her.

  Ellie’s face remained expressionless, but her mind worked overtime.

  They’d followed him down the street, ensuring her lover never realised she and Charlie were behind him. When he turned into the alley, they’d stayed close to the wall. She’d stuck her head around the corner, saw his retreating figure, and stepped through the narrow opening. Gun out, she’d looked in all directions. She couldn’t see anyone, but the shadows hid more than a liar. They’d also hidden his accomplice.

  She’d let Charlie take the lead, knowing her partner would make better use of the darkness, but she was far ahead when Ellie drew level with the stranger. He’d charged from his hiding place, using his rifle to knock her gun from her hand before clenching his fist and punching her face. In all likelihood, he’d broken at least two of her fingers and cracked her cheekbone.

  Rifle trained on her, the man retrieved her gun and indicated she should follow the path her lover had taken.

  “Don’t,” he’d commanded when she drew in a breath to signal Charlie. Her partner had disappeared down the alley.

  She’d not noticed anything until it was too late. She’d focussed on her lover instead of her surroundings, something she’d been trained not to do.

  Ellie, you idiot.

  “Finish this,” the stranger ordered. “I’ll be back in a minute. Got a spot of hunting to do.”

  A police siren wailed nearby. Both men swore.

  Charlie appeared from the shadows, leaping at the stranger’s throat, her sharp nails leaving jagged marks on his face and neck.

  Too late, Ellie yelled, “Char—”

  “Fucking mongrel.”

  With a savage twist of his torso, the man shifted. His rifle butt struck Charlie’s head, knocking her to the ground. Unmindful of the danger, Ellie rushed forward, but Charlie shuddered, rolled, and went for him again.

  Ellie screamed as his rifle swung toward her partner, and the safety disengaged. Tears of rage and fear blinded her as she lunged at him. A loud bang reached her ears. Dirt and cement peppered her face.

  A second shot fired.

  Ellie raced for a small niche jutting out a few inches from the wall despite the comprehension she moved much too late.

  Rapid barks pierced the shrill ringing in her ears.

  Charlie!

  “Get that frigging—”

  Her lover’s voice was calm as he interrupted the stranger’s angry words.

  “Go! Get out of here. I’ll take care of this mess. I’ll take care of everything.”

  Her side burned. Ellie fell to her knees, her hand coming to rest on her side. Warm, sticky wetness coated her fingers. Subconsciously, she acknowledged the reality of the situation. But Ellie couldn’t accept it. Not yet. The stranger gave her one last look, his expression a grimace of pure hatred. He pressed one hand to his bleeding face as he tossed the rifle through the driver’s side window.

  “Fix this, Cole. Or I’ll fix you.”

  Her lover kept his gun trained on her as the door of the truck opened and shut. Its screech, and the metallic bang that followed, sounded like a ghostly scream of hopelessness. Ellie looked for the licence plate, but it seemed so much darker in the alley than when she’d first entered. She shivered. Colder, too. She couldn’t make out any numbers.

  Was her vision blurring?

  She wasn’t sure there even was a licence plate. The engine ticked over, and the truck’s tyres screeched as the vehicle sped from the alley. Diesel fumes filled the air, and she choked, her coughs and gasps for breath compounding her injury.

  Time lost meaning. Warmth spread beneath her fingers and grew tacky as it hit the cooling air. Her grip on consciousness loosened. Footsteps sounded, and for one delirious moment she imagined they were the sounds of her tightly clenched fist knocking on death’s door. Then a low growl told Ellie that Charlie stood between her and whoever approached.

  “I’m sorry, Ellie,” her lover murmured.

  “What are you waiting for? Do it,” she demanded. Dying in a Perth alley couldn’t hurt more than his betrayal.

  Hazy images flashed before her. Her lover’s face. The muzzle flash of a gun. Even the stranger’s eerie grin beamed at her despite its owner having already left the scene. She could hear Charlie whimpering, and she wanted to cry too. An ambulance siren caterwauled in the distance. Ellie blinked away tears and immediately wished she hadn’t.

  Now she could see the shadows peel themselves from the alley walls. Their mist-like hands reached for her with long, outstretched fingers. She tried to scream, to demand they keep their distance. And then blackness surrounded her
, and she was lost in its chilled embrace.

  CHAPTER TWO

  “RACE YOU!” ELLIE SAID, then uttered a low command.

  The Belgian Shepherd surged ahead, the early morning breeze ruffling her mahogany fur. Her muscles bunched and flexed as she charged along the track. Ellie fought the urge to laugh so she could concentrate on regulating her breathing instead.

  Charlie didn’t stop until she reached the fork leading to one of the best beaches in Trinket Bay. Then she sat at attention, looking at Ellie with a knowing, doggy smirk.

  “Yes, you win. You always do.”

  She puffed and leaned forward, palms resting on her thighs to ease her sawing breath. Her hand slid to her side as she straightened. Beneath her thin T-shirt were the puckered ridges of her scar. Only it wasn’t her hand she could feel. The memory of his warm hand burning through the skimpy material to brand her bare flesh, claiming her as his, replaced it.

  Eyes closed, she imagined that same intense heat scorching against her throat. His lips marking a path of wanton desire as he moved behind her and pressed his body full length against her back. While his hand remained on her side, and she placed her hand over his, anchoring him there, his other hand claimed her breast. He plucked at her taut nipple and rubbed his hardness against her, sending sparks of desire down her body to explode in a different kind of heat between her legs.

  “Tease!” she managed, her head tilted to one side to claim another kiss or to allow better access to her throat, she wasn’t sure which.

  She pressed her thighs together, allowing the throb of desire to build, her hand pressing over his as he held her waist tighter, squeezing to the point of pain.

  Then the rifle shot ricocheted through her mind, shattering her memories, its smug, metallic whine bringing her back to reality.

  Her left hand clenched as she snatched it away.

  “Bastard!”

  Damned stupid mind playing damned tricks. Why wouldn’t those memories go away?

  Movement caught her eye and Ellie watched as a tall, dark-haired man stepped out from the last house on the street. Water bottle in one hand, he stooped to turn on the tap, then straightened and waved in their direction while the bucket below overflowed.

  She took a deep, calming breath and waved back.

  “Good morning, Nolan.”

  “Morning, Senior Constable Marsden. Morning, Miss Charlie.” His voice rasped in the cool air as he offered the water bottle. “Care for a drink?”

  Ellie looked at Charlie. The dog didn’t so much as quiver to show she’d understood their exchange. In that same low tone, Ellie uttered another command. Charlie bolted toward the man, who squinted at his bare feet as though wondering why they’d merged with the sodden earth. When she was a short distance away, the dog sat and waited.

  “Okay, do your thing,” Nolan said and laughed as she looked at Ellie, who nodded.

  Charlie took a cautious sniff of the mud before inspecting the bucket.

  “You’re not wearing your glasses,” Ellie said, when she joined them. She turned off the tap, giving him a pointed look for leaving the water running, and took the bottle he offered.

  “Thank you,” she said, her quickening heart rate easing and her breath escaping in a quiet rush of air when he fished his glasses from his shirt pocket and put them on.

  She raised her eyes skyward, her lips moving as though uttering a small prayer, giving thanks to whoever made Nolan forgetful at that particular moment. She hated to imagine what he might have thought if he’d seen her minutes ago. It was a small mercy he’d mistake her red face for exertion and not her traitorous memories.

  “I know, I know. I got distracted.” He smirked and gestured downward. “But hey, there’s always mud wrestling.”

  Ellie smiled and shook her head.

  “No? Why? Is it illegal, officer?”

  Nolan’s tone lowered to a huskiness he seemed powerless to control, but Ellie knew better. He was a flirt and a natural charmer. She’d love to see someone counter her friend’s seductive demeanour, but that someone wasn’t her. She wouldn’t let a man close enough to betray her again. Not when he’d leave her when she needed him most.

  “Depends on whether it’s for a good cause.” She grinned as Nolan’s expression feigned innocence. “And doesn’t involve the local law enforcement.”

  “Pity,” Nolan said. “What about you, Miss Charlie? Are you in?”

  Charlie gave Nolan what passed for a haughty stare before finishing her drink.

  “You’re saying no as well? I’m losing my touch. But I’m sure you won’t say no to a grooming session this afternoon at Transfurmations Grooming Salon.” He grinned. “I saw your booking last night. You know, while I was wearing my glasses.”

  “She’s been working hard the last couple of weeks. She deserves a treat.”

  “And what about our diligent senior constable? You haven’t taken a decent holiday in the two years you’ve lived here. Don’t you deserve a treat too? A mudpack perhaps?”

  Humour replaced his seductive routine as he bent down and scooped up the fast-drying muck. Fashioning it into a ball, he stepped back and wound up like he was about to pitch it. Sudden lack of balance in the slippery mud made him raise one arm and one leg in a stance that would be laughable at a world series baseball game.

  “Only if you want to get arrested, Nolan.”

  He froze at her matter-of-fact tone. Unsure if she was serious, he dropped the mud ball like a hot rock, slipped, and flapped his arms around like a windmill as he tried to regain his footing. Palms up and out, he retreated and laughed aloud when he almost slipped again. Ellie grinned, but kept her composure.

  “Jeez. Tough crowd. Right, I’ll see you lovely ladies at four. Senior Constable Marsden. Miss Charlie,” he added, bowing, and twirling his hand as though farewelling royalty.

  “Enjoy your day, Nolan. And thanks again for the drink. Come on, Charlie.” She glanced at her watch. “Home, breakfast, and work.”

  At the last word, Charlie leapt to her feet, once more at attention. Halfway home, a prickling sensation raced up Ellie’s spine. She stopped, then knelt and retied her shoelaces. Charlie stood watch, facing the way they’d come, as though guarding her handler’s back. After a moment, she whined.

  “You sense it too, Charlie? Think someone’s watching us?”

  Ellie balanced on one leg, lifting the other one behind her as she pretended to stretch; her muscles, like the rest of her body, maintained their tight stance for control. She did a half turn and did the same with her other leg. Internally, her body flushed with adrenalin. She wanted to run, to find whoever kicked her instincts into overdrive. Outwardly, she projected calm. She grinned at Charlie.

  “Do you think we’re imagining things?”

  Her singsong voice suggested to the casual listener she was praising the dog. Had there been anyone close enough to comprehend her words, they would have heard something else entirely.

  Charlie whimpered.

  “Me either.”

  A few more minutes of casual looking around as she pressed the bottle to her lips revealed nothing. She poured water into her palm and offered it to Charlie. Her tail wagged as she lapped at the cool liquid, but Ellie wasn’t fooled. Charlie’s ears moved like twin radars as she tried to recapture the sound that first caught her attention. When she licked Ellie’s cheek, her nostrils quivered, trying to regain the scent. Ellie imagined there’d be many, but perhaps Charlie detected something specific, one she’d been trained to find.

  Ellie straightened, her course of action decided. She worked on relaxing her body, for every muscle was tense and ready to spring, much like the dog beside her. She’d check in at the station, grab her gun, then bring Charlie back later. Instinct told her something was wrong, as did the dog’s guarding stance. It took a moment to realise she’d again placed a hand over her scar.

  “Damn it! To hell with you, Brennan!” She swore, snatching her hand away as though it burned her. Another
command and they continued down the path. Although she kept her gaze forward, every instinct screamed at Ellie to look back.

  CHAPTER THREE

  AT THE Bayside Brewery, Brennan Cole stared over the rim of his ice-cold beer glass and ignored the bitter expression greeting him in the mirror. He was here to work, no matter how he longed to mingle with his fellow patrons. Happy and content, they embraced emotions he’d not entertained for some time.

  The bar attendant looked him over. He’d no intention of satisfying the blatant curiosity in her gaze. Brennan was an expert on secrets. They’d kept him alive this long. And they’d destroyed him, too.

  He checked his watch and bit back the words he wanted to utter. There was every possibility she’d heard worse given her working environment, but the young woman didn’t need to hear the vulgar words the situation warranted. Words that explained exactly what he thought of the lowlife piece of shit who was meant to arrive ten minutes ago.

  Instead, he flashed her a smile on the pretence he was enjoying himself. She gave him a grin which suggested she might offer him more than just a drink. Perhaps she admired his strong physique or the way his teeth gleamed against the warmth of his skin. He wasn’t vain, but he knew his looks appealed. It was an asset in his line of work. Still smiling, he picked up his glass and took a seat with a better view of the entryway door. He looked back at the bar. No one was watching him. Once more, he glanced at his reflection. Seriousness consumed his dark features before he turned his head.

  He took another swig of his beer. Its cool chill was inviting, but not as tempting as its colour. It reminded him of her hair and the way it splayed over the pillow and his chest after they’d made love. The memory consumed him. Her hair’s softness tickling his hand as he threaded the long strands through his fingers to pull her close enough to indulge in another kiss. They’d shared a bottle of wine in that same reddish tone from a small boutique winery they’d discovered on a weekend getaway, the colour thanks to the makers leaving the skins on the grapes. They’d both known they wouldn’t finish it, too eager to resume their lovemaking. The aged Riesling’s sweet, honey flavour lingered on her tongue as they’d kissed. No wine ever tasted as sweet as...