Perfect Partners Page 2

  “I hate this day.” Izzy looked at the sky in defeat, but her voice was bright.

  “Nah, don’t hate. This is a good day. K-9 is the best and we’re going to have fun for the next twelve weeks.”

  Sara’s positive outlook was rewarded with a dimpled smile, so she pushed it as she walked ahead of the car with Chase. “One last thing, Izzy.”

  “Anything. I will literally do anything to redeem myself right now.”

  “We’re going to walk up to the building. Me and Chase.” She ticked her head toward the dog. “Try not to run us over, okay?” She scrunched her nose up and smiled, so Izzy would know she was teasing. Flirting with recruits wasn’t something she ever did, but Izzy needed a pick-me-up, and goddamn it, Sara wanted to give it to her.

  Izzy’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment, but she smiled big as she slipped into the driver’s seat. Right out of nowhere, Sara felt her heart pound in response.

  Chapter Two

  After she’d made the requisite introduction, Sara beelined to her small office, burying herself in admin. There was curriculum to be finalized, upcoming certifications to be scheduled, canine health records needing review and filing. All tasks that could wait. Truth be told, she needed to regroup. Start by pulling herself together and shaking free the impact five minutes with Izzy Marquez had made. Damn if that woman hadn’t gotten her blood pumping in all the right ways.

  Two cups of strong coffee later and she’d forgiven herself the fleeting distraction. Rationalizing her behavior as the result of too much alone time and not enough extracurricular activity, she’d resigned to make some changes. Go out more, perhaps start dating even. There were apps and meet-ups, a whole world of social opportunities out there. Her behavior this morning signaled her body longed for something more than work even if her brain was slow to realize it. She adored her job, loved working with the dogs and with their human counterparts. Still, she needed an outlet and she never mixed business with pleasure. Not anymore, anyway. She was not about to break her cardinal rule simply because Izzy Marquez had dreamy eyes and a slamming body. Nope, she was more mature than that.

  Considering that truth, she probably should have stayed with John and sat in on Izzy’s interview. Of course she would have been welcome. John kept her up to speed on every minute detail of the program. There wasn’t a light bulb that got changed in the kennels without her knowledge. It was partly why her ignorance about Izzy’s eleventh-hour admission to the program had her reeling. Sure there’d been changes before. Substitutions. This wasn’t the first time someone backed out last minute. But vacancies were supposed to go to a person already on an agency’s wait list. A candidate who’d been previously cleared and backgrounded.

  Something didn’t add up. There were procedures and protocols, and even the political appointees were required to meet them. She stood up from her desk ready to get some answers.

  “Got a minute for me?” she asked, knocking on the open door to John Dixon’s office.

  “For you? Always.” He moved a stack of files aside, the action signaling she had his full attention. “Come. Sit.” He gestured at the chair across from him as he swiveled back and forth behind his desk. Sara passed the chair, walking over to the window to watch the dogs exercising outside. “I’m going to guess this visit is about our new student,” he said. “Isabel Marquez.”

  “It is,” she responded, hoping to God her voice came out without cracking. “I do have a couple of questions.”

  “Don’t know that I have answers,” he said. “But I’ll tell you whatever I can.” She watched him pull the top folder from the pile. “You met her this morning. What did you think?”

  Sara’s head was all over the place. Mostly she thought she wanted to run her finger over Izzy’s full lips, rip her uniform off, kiss her senseless. She thought about the odds Izzy dated women. She thought about what it might be like to work as her mentor, become friends, maybe more. What did she think? Nothing appropriate, that was for sure, but that wasn’t what her boss was asking.

  She blinked hard, pushing the illicit images of Izzy down, and snapped into work mode. This was her job and John was seeking her input. She paused for a long moment to consider the question objectively, still conflicted. On the one hand, Izzy was sweet and seemed innocent, but she had also circumvented the program’s thorough system of checks and balances. Plus, she made Sara’s pulse race enough to prompt her into reevaluating her social life. The whole interaction left her thoroughly unsettled.

  “I don’t know.” It was the most honest response she could muster, but it felt inadequate. She focused her attention on the crew of dogs and instructors working and playing in the open field. “She was nice, I guess. A little ditzy. But nice.”

  “Ditzy?”

  She cocked her head to the side. “Scattered is maybe a better word.”

  “Hmm.” John frowned. “I didn’t get that impression from her.” He drummed a pencil against his desk considering her words. “It was probably nerves. You can be very intimidating.”

  “Intimidating? Me?” Her reputation for being stoic and chill way preceded her.

  “I’m kidding.” He let out a brusque laugh. “But that was worth saying just for the reaction.” He ran his hands through his thick black hair. “I’m sure she’s just excited. You know how newbies are.”

  That was an understatement. Handlers were always excited to get a new canine partner. But first-timers were a breed of their own. They brought with them a level of excitement and energy that was unparalleled. Perhaps that was the vibe she’d been feeding off all morning. Unbridled anticipation, nothing more. But could picking up on Izzy’s eager passion for her new assignment have been enough to give Sara goose bumps during their exchange? She reined herself back for the millionth time.

  Casting her eyes at the file in front of her boss she said, “Level with me, John. What’s the story here?”

  He laughed out a breath as he leaned back in his chair. “Damned if I know.”

  “Well, what’s it say in her application packet?” Sara asked.

  “That she’s a model officer with a stellar record. An active cop on a tough beat. She works transit patrol. A lot of arrests, no disciplinary actions.”

  Sara waited to hear the unofficial reason Izzy had bypassed procedure and slipped into the program. John answered her unspoken question with two upward palms and an empty shrug.

  “You don’t know or you won’t tell me?”

  He chuckled at her candor. “Believe it or not, there’s things that are even above my pay grade.”

  She furrowed her brow, confused and disheartened by his answer.

  “I know when to ask questions and when not to,” he explained.

  “So that’s it? She has a decent record so doors just open for her?” She crossed her arms and shook her head. “Something’s missing. It doesn’t add up.”

  “I understand your frustration.” He hitched one shoulder up. “I don’t know what to tell you.” Empathy was present in his tone and on his face.

  “Hey, I don’t blame you,” she said. “And I’m not trying to sabotage her, either. Honest.”

  “Oh, God, I know that,” he blurted.

  “I just—” She cut herself off and let out a long sigh. “I worry about political favors. They never work.”

  “That’s not true.” His response was friendly even as it challenged her theory. “Some cops and agents do just fine. Regardless of how they get here.” His raised eyebrows indicated he was implying a message deeper than what was on the surface.

  Sara knew what he was getting at but she ignored him, wanting to make her own point. “In the beginning, sure.” She leaned forward. “When it’s all new and exciting. Cut to a few years later, sometimes a few months later,” she reminded him, “after they realize it’s not just fun and games. When they see the commitment required—endless training, getting called out all hours of the day and night. This is a lifetime gig. You have to want it.” She rolled her neck,
shaking her hair off her shoulders. “I don’t know why I’m preaching to you,” she said, making an effort to get her emotions under control. “I’m just frustrated. I hate cheating the dogs. It’s not fair to them.”

  “Look, I know how you feel.” He opened his drawer and pulled out an accordion file filled with loose papers. “You’re not the only one who believes in what we do here.” He looked out the glass wall of his office and gave a small wave to a trainer walking by with one of the new dogs. “This program means the world to me too.” He leaned forward and handed the unwieldy file to her. “Take a look before you make up your mind.”

  “The class starts in a week. I’ve been studying profiles for months. It’s a little late for what you’re asking.”

  They had an informal routine: after the candidates were selected and interviewed and all their references checked, Sara reviewed their files. Even though her technical title was consultant, not agent, she still carried a top-secret clearance and she used it to assess each member of an incoming class. Her focus was geared at figuring out how the officers and dogs would play off each other. But she provided a fresh perspective, and having civilian insight had at times proved invaluable.

  John shook his head. “For once, I’m not asking for your opinion. This is a done deal.” He picked up a paper clip and bent it between his fingers. “But I still think looking through that file will be helpful. And it might relax you.”

  “What would relax me is knowing she’d been vetted properly. And believing she’s legitimately invested in the program.” Sara was surprised at the tension audible in her voice. “This is a federal facility last time I checked. Or is her hook so big she gets to skip all that?”

  “I know how important this program is to you.” Sara opened her mouth to speak, but John stopped her. “It is to me too. You know that.” He gestured to the red accordion folder he’d given her. “That’s why I did some digging.”

  “Wait.” Sara finally comprehended what he was saying. She looked at the file in her hands. “You did her background?”

  “I made some calls. Poked around a little. My notes are in there.” Her surprise must have showed, because he continued. “I’m not just going to push cops through the program. No matter who they are or how they might be connected, politically.” He rubbed his big hands together. “We’ve worked too hard for that. The reason this training site, our training site, is the country’s best is because we care.” He pursed his lips to cover his emotion. “And because we have you. Nobody I’ve ever worked with has insight and skill like you do. I saw it when you were a kid.”

  She breezed past his compliment. “Stop it. We all give a hundred and forty percent every day.”

  “That’s my point.” He shifted forward in his seat. “I value my program. And my staff. I’m not interested in wasting time and money on an officer who’s going to wash out in a few months.” He leaned all the way back, his seat reclining a little as he hooked his fingers behind his head. “I don’t think that’s the case with Officer Marquez.”

  Sara nodded, considering his words.

  “Just give her a chance, Sara.” He smiled at her. “Don’t make me remind you that sometimes relaxing the rules a little can lead to great things.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” she said. She looked away, hating that she knew she blushed when he brought up the past.

  “You know it’s not so long ago I convinced my boss to hire a nineteen-year-old kid, with zero law enforcement experience, no technical canine training, a girl who had no desire to be a federal agent, by the way, to come on staff and train police dogs and their handlers.” He was full-on grinning. “You”—he pointed right at her—“better than anyone, should understand sometimes amazing things happen when you take a chance.”

  She returned his smile. “That was fifteen years ago, by the way. I’ve since been fully certified in every area of canine-handler training.”

  “I know. I would go on record that you are the best trainer in the country. Maybe the world. No one can do what you do.” His pride was evident, his smile almost boyish, and she knew it signaled a zinger was headed her way. “You’re still not an agent, though.” He thrust his finger in the air in playful challenge.

  “Never gonna happen. I told you that from the beginning. You can’t hold it over me forever.” She shook her head in support of her defense. “I’m only interested in the dogs. No guns for me. Stop fake-threatening you’re going to cut me loose over it.”

  They laughed together at today’s version of their constant battle before John turned serious. “I am sorry it played out this way. But I do have confidence Officer Marquez will work out okay. I don’t have too much to base it on, but she seems like a good kid to me. And I have an excellent track record for hunches paying off.” He winked and his expression was so optimistic, Sara couldn’t help but be swayed by his instincts. She felt her stress over the course of events melt away.

  “How long have you known?”

  “About Marquez?”

  Sara nodded. As close as they were, John was still her boss and he didn’t owe her an explanation. She knew he’d be frank with her anyway.

  “A couple of days.” He reached for the mangled paper clip and started twisting it again. “This was a direct order from the very top.”

  Sara eyed him curiously. “The New York City Police Commissioner?” she asked in disbelief.

  “No,” he corrected. “On the federal side, I mean. Our bosses.” He rubbed his mustache stoically. “Word came down from the Homeland Security executive branch. Specifically, the Director of Training,” he added.

  “Nicole?”

  “I didn’t speak to her directly.” He dropped his gaze. “A woman on her staff called and said this was a priority.” He cleared his throat, a nervous habit she was familiar with. “I’m sorry, Sara. Up until this conversation…I just figured you were in the loop.” He made brief eye contact. “I know you and Nicole still talk.”

  Sara’s head spun at the mention of her ex. As John laid out the details, Sara let herself get lost in her past. Nicole Vaughn was so woven into the fabric of her life, it was hard to parse out the appropriate qualifier for her. They were ex-girlfriends; that was true. But they were also friends and colleagues, and recently, they’d slept together for the first time in years. It had happened randomly, the culmination of a business trip to Washington, DC, that resulted in dinner at Nicole’s apartment. It involved too much wine and too many glorified memories, but there had been no fallout. They still spoke frequently, but conversation about their tryst never surfaced.

  Come to think of it, they had talked just last week. The thought that Nicole had known at that time and not said anything annoyed her on the spot. They were always open and honest with each other. It was the main reason they’d been able to survive the transition from romantic to platonic and back again seamlessly over the last decade. She swallowed her irritation at the mild deceit, keeping her composure as she focused on John, still talking away.

  “Anyway, have a look in there.” He gestured toward his secret file. “And here, take this too,” he said, handing over the official application packet. “Let me know if you have any questions.”

  “Sure thing, boss man.” She reached for the application folder and studied Izzy’s police ID photo stapled to the edge. Her hair was pulled back in a tight bun, her expression no-nonsense. Inexplicably Sara’s heart warmed at the super-serious image of the bubbly, flustered woman she’d met hours ago.

  “Oh, Sara.” John moved quickly, making his chair creak with the sudden movement. “There’s something I need. I almost forgot.” He tapped one finger on his desk. “Officer Marquez still needs a home visit.” He twisted his mouth to the side as he spoke. “Her only day off this week is Friday. But I just found out I have a meeting scheduled in Manhattan. Will you do it for me?”

  The home visit was a formality that existed to ensure the handler had a home appropriate for a dog. It was ridiculous and outdated and Sara couldn’t
recall a time when a candidate didn’t make the cut as the result of their housing situation. And with these circumstances—where the candidate was fast-tracked through the process—it could no doubt be glossed over. But seeing where and how a person lived provided an opportunity to get a real sense of their personality, and right off she knew John was throwing her a bone. She loved him for it.

  “Sure, I can take care of it.”

  “Great.” He shuffled some papers on his desk. “I have her sergeant’s number here somewhere.” Pulling a sticky note off his laptop, he smiled in success. “Here it is. I’ll notify Marquez through him. I owe him a call anyway,” he said to himself. “Friday at eleven work for you?”

  “Perfect.”

  “Great. I’ll set it up.” He reached for his glasses, sliding them on. “Hey, Sara,” he said, looking out over the bifocal frames. “This is going to be good. I can feel it.”

  Sure, it was going to be completely fine, Sara mused, as she strolled back to her office. She just needed to get her libido in check, focus on a new class, finish prepping the dogs, and stop fantasizing about the new handler. Piece of cake.

  Chapter Three

  “What did I get myself into?” Izzy muffled the complaint into the fluff of her pillow. Facedown, sprawled on her queen-size bed, she searched for the energy to get up, get dressed, and make coffee.

  Her phone buzzed next to her and she checked the screen. Her sister. She answered it with, “I am a complete idiot.”

  “According to whom?” Elena responded, not missing a beat.

  “Me, mostly,” Izzy said through a loud yawn.

  “Oh my God, were you sleeping?”

  “I’m up.” Izzy glanced at the clock. Ten forty-five. “I’m up,” she repeated, throwing back the covers so it felt true. “In my defense, I didn’t get home until four in the morning.”

  “Out searching for the woman of your dreams?”