A Nose for Trouble Read online

  Undercover assignments were part of his job. In the time they’d been dating and when they’d moved in together, he’d worked two assignments. If she’d asked, he wouldn’t have confirmed it, let alone given her any details, but he’d never disappeared for hours on end before, especially at night. He’d never shut down emotionally or allowed distance to creep between them. And she’d never once made the necessary connections.

  When her then commanding officer gave Ellie and Charlie their assignment, there’d been no hint that Brennan might be working the same case. Back then, his abrupt answers to her questions and his emotional withdrawal suggested the problem had something to do with them on a personal level. She wasn’t a jealous woman. Brennan never gave her a reason to be, but she’d sensed something was wrong. Something was changing between them and she hadn’t liked it. She never considered Brennan was in too deep. That he might be struggling, and he couldn’t tell her.

  Charlie whimpered when Ellie’s hand stilled as though she’d forgotten the dog was there. She was lost in her thoughts.

  Ellie told herself following Brennan that night was nothing more than an opportunity to chase away self-doubt. She and Charlie had almost finished their shift when a call came in over dispatch about suspicious activity a few streets away. As they were the closest, she’d let dispatch know she and Charlie would check it out. She’d spotted Brennan moments after pulling into a park. Something about the way he clung to the shadows stopped her from calling his name. She hadn’t called it in either. Instead, she’d holstered her gun, opened the passenger side so Charlie could exit the patrol car, and they’d followed him. She hadn’t known then she was about to enter a world of pain.

  A rush of air from a long-held breath broke the silence, but Ellie took no notice. It seemed her mind had caught up to her heart at last.

  Brennan hadn’t shot to kill, something she knew he was capable of doing. She’d spent enough hours on the firing range with him to know that. No, he’d shot her to keep her safe, to prove his loyalty to the bastard they’d sent him undercover to stop. If he hadn’t shot her, and told his accomplice he’d take care of things, then maybe she and Charlie wouldn’t be here now. The implications were enormous. She’d been wrong, so very wrong.

  “If Brennan is here, so is Navarro.”

  Wilson stood and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.

  “I need to contact the Feds, tell them what we know. Then we’ll decide what we’ll do next. Think you can handle this, Marsden?”

  Ellie nodded and moved to her desk. Her hand shook as she retrieved her report and stared at Brennan’s photo, her thoughts still churning. She could do this. She owed Brennan an apology. Ellie needed to let him know she was prepared to hear his side of the story, that she understood the danger she’d placed them in that night. Ellie looked at Charlie, who barked once, then she met Wilson’s steady gaze.

  “We’re ready.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  BRENNAN SAT ON THE edge of a cold, steel tub, his head spinning and his legs shaking. He couldn’t recall walking to Transfurmations Grooming Salon, much less how he got inside. The pain in his ankle had subsided, which made zero sense considering how much it hurt like a bitch earlier. Then he blinked as someone turned on a light.

  “So that’s ‘im then?”

  Brennan blinked again, and a short man with a clean-shaven head came into hazy focus. Behind him were the familiar features of the man he hated with every fibre of his being—Johnny Navarro. Brennan squinted, returning his hazy focus to the first man, trying to place the familiarity of his angular face. Then the man got in his face.

  “Fookin’ wanker.”

  “I know you.”

  “Aye, you do. Knocked me down in the bleedin’ street.”

  Brennan’s gaze shifted right, searching for a memory his languid brain seemed reluctant to release. What the hell was wrong with him and why did this guy look so... Something clicked into place and broke through the fog.

  “You’re Morley? The contact who was supposed to meet me at the bar.”

  Wasn’t he?

  “Aye, only you weren’t there.”

  No, he’d seen him outside, not at the bar. And he’d disguised himself with the hat and glasses then, so how did Morley recognise him?

  There was an answer, but his fuzzy brain refused to cooperate.

  “I told Johnny—”

  What did he tell him?

  “Oh, he knows, Cole. You saw a cop. A real pretty one,” Johnny said. “And you were in such a hurry to get away, you walked right into him. Great first impression.”

  Pretty? When had he said...?

  Reality broke through, the truth, a horror too incredible to comprehend. He doubled over, his gut spasming as though he’d been sucker-punched. The air rushed from his lungs. Bile surged through his oesophagus to take its place like it wanted to spill the awful truth he so desperately wanted to contain.

  Oh hell! Johnny knew.

  Ellie! Oh God! Had Johnny seen her? And if he had, then he knew he’d lied and betrayed him.

  Ice filled Brennan’s veins. Cotton dried his mouth. The foul taste had nothing to do with the painkillers he’d taken earlier. A resurgence of the fear that had gripped him that night in the Perth alley controlled his actions.

  He struggled to rise, as much hampered by his injured ankle as the room spinning when he tried to draw himself to his full height. He had to get out of here and warn Ellie.

  “Goin’ somewhere?”

  “I, no, need to stand.”

  Johnny laughed, the bitter sound penetrating the sense of impending doom Brennan fought to escape.

  “What are we doing here at Transfurmations Grooming Salon?” he managed.

  Something was wrong, and he needed answers, fast.

  “It’s where it’s all ‘appenin’. You know the deal, Cole. First, we hit the surgeries. You know how them old ducks and geezers need the good stuff. And these old dears have these companions, don’t they? So, we meet up at the salons with our new friends who’ve taken their pets in for a bit of spoilin’. We get ‘em talkin’ about their precious darlin’s and their local vet. And we learn what drugs they stash, what their ‘ours are, and the easiest way to relieve them of their valuable stock. Shoulda seen the mutt I brought in here earlier. Borrowed him off some old geezer. People and their pampered pooches, ‘ey? They don’t ‘ave a fookin’ clue.”

  “Yeah, scored big time at the place up the road. Like taking candy—”

  “You broke into the doctor’s surgery? And what? You’ll hit the vet clinic next? Is that the plan?” Brennan asked.

  Confused he might be, but he’d a role to play and he needed time to think. His life depended on it. His and Ellie’s.

  “Why d’you cut me out, Johnny? You know I’ve been itching to do another job. It’s been months. No offence,” he glanced in Morley’s direction, “but now we’re back on home soil, I thought you said you’d be running things here.”

  Morley and Johnny both laughed, and he realised his plan to turn the two bastards against each other failed. His Plan B proved to be just as much of a disaster.

  He tried to stand again, then staggered back, his thighs pressing against the tub to stay upright. With his right hand he braced the edge, while with his other hand, he made a casual reach for his gun.

  Nothing.

  What the hell? He never left it behind.

  His stomach dropped. Nausea rushed to fill the space. His heart, which already beat faster than usual, now sped up. Rapid pounding filled his ears, his blood thundering in his skull like a turbo-charged roller coaster car. Not to be outdone, his breathing rate increased, his chest rising and falling as though his lungs prepped to explode. Any sensation of warmth left him as his eyes met Johnny’s.

  Fuck!

  “All right there, Cole?” Johnny laughed again.

  “What’s happening? I thought we were planning the next job. What’s changed?”

  Brennan took a
deep breath. It did nothing to calm him or slow down the erratic pace it kept with his racing heart. He reached further under his jacket. Please be there. The holster holding his gun hadn’t merely shifted. No. Nothing. What the hell was going on?

  Think, Brennan. Think!

  “You looked tired, so I made dinner more exciting for you.” Johnny all but giggled like a schoolgirl. “I figured you needed a little something extra in your meal tonight. I did say it might be your last.”

  Beside him, Morley grinned, his mouth splitting open to display rotten teeth.

  Brennan squinted, his thoughts battling to make sense. Then it came to him. They’d ordered the same meal, but Johnny said his mashed potatoes were too grainy and refused to eat them. Meanwhile, as a precaution for the pain medication he’d taken, Brennan figured he needed food in his stomach and had cleared his plate. Johnny’s unusual complaint about the food should have been his first clue.

  “You bastard, Johnny! You drugged me! You fucking drugged me!”

  Anger made his thoughts clearer, though the unknown drugs in his system were keen to reclaim him once more. His body shook. His breath quickened, and his hands curled into fists, eager to punch anyone stupid enough to come near him.

  “’e asked you a question before, Johnny. Go ahead and tell him what we’re really doin’ here. I’m sure e’s dyin’ to know.”

  “That bitch knows our M.O., Cole. Morley deliberately told the stupid cows who work here the collar was making his fur baby itchy. He made sure your girl found the drugs he planted and followed him to the bed and breakfast. She knows you’re in town. The boss heard her talking about you in the pub the other night. Not too happy with you, is she, Cole? We knew she’d suspect you. And you know women. Stupid, nosy bitches, all of them.”

  The sound of the front door rattling drew the men’s attention.

  Brennan staggered to his feet again, inhaled, and opened his mouth.

  Morley clocked him with a well-aimed punch to the temple before he could make a sound. Johnny caught him as he fell, the man’s large hand covering his mouth.

  “Perfect timin’,” Morley said, his mirth disappearing.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  ELLIE GAVE THE DOOR knob another twist before stepping back and peering at the blinds. They’d stirred with the door’s movements and allowed slivers of light to appear, which was odd considering Kayla wasn’t in the habit of leaving them on at night. She looked down, but Charlie wasn’t beside her. Instead, she stood three paces behind, head low, body tense, and an uneasy expression on her face.

  “What’s wrong, girl?” Ellie whispered, but Charlie gave no sign she heard her. Perhaps the Belgian Shepherd could sense her own apprehensive mood. They’d gone for a walk. She’d needed to leave the police station to gather her thoughts. Talking with Wilson had unleashed emotions Ellie believed no longer existed. She’d been so certain Brennan betrayed her, had convinced herself he’d strung her along, only pretended to love her. She’d even entertained the idea he’d used her to gain knowledge about the K9 Unit and how dogs like Charlie sniffed out drugs.

  In her desperation to distance herself from the pain of his betrayal, she’d convinced herself she hated him. But as she and Charlie paced the streets in its play of light and shadow, she came to a different realisation. She’d never stopped loving Brennan, and that’s why his betrayal hurt so much.

  Yes, she hated that he’d lied to her, and had left her alone in the alley. Thanks to Wilson’s confession, now she understood what was at stake, how much danger Brennan was in. But damn that man, she could have helped. Maybe she didn’t have his years of experience, but she’d completed the same basic training. Despite her mistakes that night, she was damn good at her job.

  It was just past nine when she’d received a call regarding a noise complaint at Transfurmations Grooming Salon. By a tourist was McClane’s assumption, given the man’s accent. Ellie rang Kayla, but she hadn’t answered her mobile, or her landline. When she’d tried the salon, it went straight to message bank. If her friend was there, she would have taken the call. Either she was out enjoying herself, or she was inside and in trouble. As she raised a hand to knock on the door and identify herself, Charlie whimpered, then took off around the side of the building.

  “Charlie, heel,” she said, her voice a hoarse whisper. A moment later she called a little louder. “Charlie, come.”

  Ellie frowned. It was unusual for the dog not to follow her commands. It was the reason she so rarely used a lead. When they were working, unless commanded otherwise, Charlie plastered herself to Ellie’s left side, just as she’d been trained to do.

  When another minute passed, and she didn’t respond to her verbal commands, Ellie followed.

  Charlie stood facing the side door, hackles up, growling. Further down were two parked cars. Ellie fished her torch from one of several pockets on her tactical vest, unclipped her gun, checked the safety, and crept forward.

  The coincidence in location was eerie. Instead of following Brennan into a darkened alley, now she’d followed Charlie. Two cars replaced the truck. And once again, there were far too many shadowy places in which someone could hide.

  Her jaw ached. Her teeth clenched. She wanted to scream. Adrenalin surged through her body. Last time she’d faced this situation, she’d shook with anger, certain the man she loved betrayed her, though she hadn’t known in what capacity then. Now, her hands shook as the memories clamoured for her attention.

  Keep it together, Ellie. You faced this in therapy. You wouldn’t have a job if you couldn’t cope.

  The scar on her side throbbed beneath her tactical vest, but she kept both hands on her gun, the torch balanced between it and her left second and third finger.

  Relax your hands. Right thumb over left. Control your gun. Control the situation.

  Funny how the voice in her head sounded so much like Brennan’s then. She moved forward, her steps slow and steady. Ellie forced herself to breathe at the same rate, but nothing seemed to control the pounding of her heart against her ribcage.

  She edged down the left side of the first car, her gun and torch pointed at its windows. At the last second, she flicked on the light. It was empty. She glanced around the alley, then released one hand long enough to rest it on the bonnet before moving to the next vehicle and doing the same. There was a soft thud as the torch bumped against the surface.

  It was a warm night, but the metal greeting her fingertips was no warmer than its surrounding surfaces, suggesting the cars had been there at least an hour, maybe more. She raised her hands, letting the small but powerful light shine further down the alley. Nothing moved.

  Again her hands shook, and she fought to steady herself.

  Control the situation, Ellie.

  With quiet steps, she crossed to where Charlie stationed herself. By torchlight Ellie could see the dog was shaking with anticipation. Ellie took a deep breath and grabbed the side door handle that led into the groomers, ready to test if it was locked. Instead, the door swung out wide, the momentum knocking Ellie off her feet. Gravity lost meaning for a few seconds as she sailed through the air only to land with a solid thud on her arse. Agony shot through her tailbone and raced up her spine. From inside the salon, a man barged into the alley followed by a second who supported a third. Doggy treats lay scattered like biscuit crumbs in the doorway and spilled into the alley as she rolled on to one knee.

  The torch disappeared under the first car as she pressed her hip against the alley wall. She braced herself, gun aimed, ready to shoot.

  Rather than running, the men stood before her, two defiant, the third one slumping to the ground as though injured. Further behind them, some distance down the alley where her torchlight couldn’t penetrate the gloom, metallic clicking sounded. Ellie’s blood chilled in her veins when she spied three more armed men walking toward them. She dared a glance to her right to gauge the distance to the cars.

  “Call off the mutt, darlin’.”

  Charli
e growled louder.

  “Just shoot the mongrel.”

  The taller man laughed, his gun pointing at Ellie as he stepped into the light cast by the open door.

  She gasped at the revelation. Down one side of the man’s face were livid claw marks. They disappeared under his chin and reappeared at the base of his throat. The scars and his grey hair gave him a distinguished look, but the cruel twist of his mouth and the hatred burning in his eyes told a different story.

  “Admiring the view, Marsden? Oh yes, I know who you are. I’m sure you know who I am too. Do you like what that mongrel did? Maybe I should return the favour.”

  With slow, graceful movements, he reached into his pocket and revealed a pocket knife.

  “I reckon this could do some damage,” he said, flicking it open.

  At the sharp click, the man on the ground between them tried to stand.

  “Don’t you fucking touch her, Johnny.”

  The other gunman pushed him down, then dragged him forward, once again pointing his gun at the man’s head.

  “Ain’t that sweet? ‘e thinks ‘e can save you.”

  The third man raised his head as though under the influence of alcohol or something equally sinister, the light from the doorway revealing his face too. His dark gaze ensnared her, his desperate expression strange on his all-too-familiar features.

  “Brennan?” Ellie gasped.

  Charlie inched forward, lips peeled back, her bared teeth gleaming.

  Johnny grinned, the claw marks making his expression hideous. “Best put your gun down, Marsden. You’ve got nowhere to go.”

  He glanced around before his heavy-lidded gaze found hers again.

  “Now this brings back memories. An alleyway. You, me, and Cole. All together again, except for one important detail. He was stupid enough to betray me. You and that mongrel should have died three years ago.”