Perfect Partners Page 22

  For two solid days she pep-talked Chase, and even though she was just burning off her own excess nerves, he seemed to understand. When her number was called just before lunch Wednesday, she was one of the two teams remaining.

  Her palms were sweaty and her heart raced in her chest.

  “Okay, buddy. Here we go.” Chase looked at her and immediately her blood pressure stabilized. This dog truly was her personal Xanax.

  She was ordered to begin in the field with a stationary detection, then to vehicles, and then room search, finally finishing up conducting an open-area canvass in the back wooded section of campus. Peripherally, she spotted Sara and Nicole watching from the sidelines, but she was too focused to be distracted. She had no idea how much time elapsed, but when all was said and done, she and Chase had successfully indicated the presence of six high-category explosives as well as detecting four low-level explosives.

  When she finished she could see John Dixon waiting to congratulate her, but she was too busy raining praise on Chase to hurry over. She rewarded him with his favorite jute tug, their standard toy for work, and couldn’t resist squealing as she loved on him, even giving him a sweet hug and kiss before they headed back to debrief.

  Izzy was dying to get to the kennel area to see Sara for her split second of promised affection. Even though it seemed the setup time between qualifications was substantial, she knew Sara would want to be on-site with the rest of her staff and the judges just to ensure everything went smoothly for Mark’s certification run. She checked her watch to assess how much time she might be able to snag with her.

  “Great job, Izzy.” John’s booming voice right next to her caused her to jump. If he noticed at all, it didn’t show as he clapped her on the back. “Listen, kid, I need to talk to you.” He sounded serious, and Izzy resisted looking past him to see if Sara was nearby.

  “Uh, sure,” she said. “Can it wait a few minutes?” She was thoroughly going to pretend she needed to use the facilities just to steal her preplanned meet up with Sara in the kennel storage room.

  “Unfortunately, no.” He placed his hand on her shoulder as he guided her toward his office. “I just got a call from Lieutenant Anderson at Grand Central.”

  The hair on the back of her neck stood up. “Is everything okay?” she asked.

  A deep exhale preceded his answer. “It seems there’s something of a situation down in the city. She didn’t get into too many specifics with me, but the bottom line is you’re needed there.” His voice told her this wasn’t a drill. “Even if you didn’t just sail through certifications, you’d be going.” His uneasy laugh rattled her. “I gather it’s an all-hands-on-deck situation.”

  “Okay,” she said, still trying to process the scant information.

  “Do whatever you need to do to get ready,” he said. “Make sure you have all your gear. Vest, flashlight, service weapon. You have all that with you?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Okay. Get on the road and call Anderson. She’s waiting to fill you in.” He rested both hands on her shoulders, seeming resolute in his concern. “Be safe, Izzy.”

  Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

  What the fuck was going on? She wanted to race to Sara, kiss her, tell her she had to leave, that she would be careful. But there was no time. A quick glance in the field showed no sign of her, and even though Izzy felt sure she knew her location, it seemed there wasn’t a moment to spare. Everything in John’s voice relayed that she was headed to a bona fide emergency. Minutes could be the difference between life and death. She reached for her cell and typed out a quick text.

  Got called into work. Sorry. She punctuated the message with a sad face, knowing her words did little to convey what she was feeling.

  Sliding her phone into her pocket, she took one long deep breath, making the subtle shift in her brain from practice to game time. She secured Chase in his place in her truck, then held his chin in her palm.

  “You did great, Chase. The best.” She looked him right in the eyes. “This is the real deal now, big guy. I know you can handle it.” She made a fist for him to bump with his nose and he obliged, adding a small lick to finish it off. “You are my mush.” She smiled reassuringly. “Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me,” she added with a wink before moving to the driver’s seat and speeding away, already deep in cop mode as she activated the lights and sirens, zipping along the winding country road.

  On the highway she listened as Lieutenant Anderson gave her the lowdown. Grand Central Terminal was on lockdown after someone had called and claimed to have littered the place with explosives. The command was used to getting random, typically unsubstantiated threats, but today while the officers were responding with due diligence, proceeding cautiously to investigate the allegation, a bomb had exploded in the middle of the platform of Metro North’s Harlem line. Izzy felt her blood pressure rise at hearing the game-changing piece of information. By sheer miracle the injuries were minor, but it was game on, and Anderson was calling for every single dog and handler available.

  Cruising along the FDR Drive, Izzy pictured the layout of the terminal she’d patrolled daily for nearly five years. She knew every inch of the space that was a hub for multiple transit and commuter lines on Manhattan’s East Side. There were forty-four platforms and three distinct floors including the vast and iconic main concourse. She felt herself brim with defiance. No one messed with her city, her home. She called over her shoulder to Chase, who rested in the back. “We’re going to get this guy. You and me, partner.” He gave her one sharp bark in response. It was enough for her to know they were completely in sync.

  Even though she was more than eager, Izzy was put on standby the second she arrived, forced to wait her turn in the strategic grid search of the terminal. It could be a long night ahead, and the command staff was keeping a chart and rotating teams on a schedule, trying at all costs to keep everyone as fresh as possible.

  Relegated to the sidelines, she reached for her phone to see if Sara had gotten her text. The simple response she saw made her heart swell. Ilu. Be careful. By now she’d surely have some of the details of what was happening. Izzy was about to respond, tell her she loved her right back, she was bummed she’d missed their kiss, but Lieutenant Anderson stopped her with a calm order.

  “No cell phones, Izzy.” She lifted her handheld radio for emphasis. “Radio communication only.” The lieutenant frowned. “I’m sure you just want to tell your family you’re okay. But the bomb techs and the IT guys have asked us to stay off our phones for the time being.”

  “Of course, L-T.”

  She slid her phone back in her pocket. It wasn’t her family she was worried about. Even with the terminal closed down, she felt certain her relatives would assume she was safe and sound in training halfway up the state. But Sara would stress, and she longed to ease her nerves.

  Izzy lost track of time as she waited her turn, and even though no more explosives had detonated or been uncovered, her sixth sense told her where there was one, there were more. She was pacing the squad area with Chase and a few colleagues when Sergeant Smith walked into the room.

  “Marquez, you’re up.”

  He waved her to follow him to the staging area where she was paired with a bomb tech who would trail at a distance in case she and Chase made a find on their assignment to clear the subway platform for the 4-5-6 trains.

  Bending down, Izzy thumped Chase’s side and whispered confidently in his ear. She knew he was reading her cues and she assured him they were ready.

  The terminal had an eerie quiet and she strode briskly with Chase, hoping her swagger would override the inherent dread of what they were possibly about to encounter. A live bomb. Just like the one which had already gone off, obliterating the wall and part of the platform. She shook it off, rolling her shoulders as she approached the landing.

  “Okay, Chase, this is it.”

  Proceeding tentatively, she entered the platform from the north, harnessing her courage. S
he took in the familiar surroundings: the cement platform, its color somewhere between brown and gray, the faded yellow paint chipped and worn along the edge of the track, the dusky smell of summer and sweat mixing together, layers below street level.

  With a flick of her wrist, she ordered Chase to begin seeking along the surface of the interior station wall. Three-quarters of the way down, he picked his head up and Izzy knew right away he was on to something. She read his instinct and guided him toward a post that ran from floor to ceiling, suddenly feeling the familiar tension of his muscles tightening as he moved closer to the middle of the walkway. His ears tweaked, and then, like clockwork, he sat down right in front of the center support beam. Mounted to the post sat the subway emergency intercom system. Izzy looked down at him and he met her with a steady gaze, all but saying bingo. Right in front of her face were two circular buttons—red for emergency notification and green to request information. She moved forward slightly and peered into the space between the intercom system and the concrete stanchion. Wedged into the small space was a square brick of…something. She didn’t know what it was—she only knew it most definitely didn’t belong there.

  “Good boy,” she said to Chase, keeping her voice spirited and solemn at the same time.

  She looked down the open corridor and made eye contact with the bomb technician, nodding once to indicate a positive detection. He returned her nod with one of his own and she reached into her pocket retrieving a Sharpie to mark the spot just in front of the call box on the platform where Chase still sat in passive alert.

  A small tug on the end of his leash told Chase to move forward as they continued to search the rest of the platform area. She guided him along the edge of the wall, pointing to the base, as they resumed inspecting the perimeter where they’d left off. They circled down and around the very end and made their way back up to the entrance, tracing the edge of the platform. Again, Chase’s body language subtly shifted as he zeroed in on a spot at the border of the tracks, planting his butt firmly on the floor, unwavering in his decision to sit. Izzy looked at the open area around them.

  “Where, buddy?” she asked softly.

  He pointed his snout straight downward, seeming to examine his own paws, and it hit her immediately.

  “If you say so,” she answered, retrieving her Maglite from its holder on her duty belt. Squatting down on her hands and knees, she perched over the edge and shined her light, even though it wasn’t necessary. Less than a foot from her face, sloppily plastered to the underside of the platform lip, was an exact replica of the makeshift bomb she’d seen moments before stuffed against the support post only a few feet away.

  She replaced her light and grabbed her marker. Her hands were shaking even though she felt poised inside. She marked the spot above the device with a giant X and doled out measured praise for her dog. Izzy stood up and searched on, making her way to the mouth of the tunnel and stepping into the terminal. Immediately she showered Chase with affection and rewards, truly proud of his diligent detection.

  As a hybrid team of emergency personnel arrived to take control of the scene, Izzy stood back and acknowledged the rush she felt coursing through her body. It was a combination of pride and adrenaline, fear and relief. Mixed in with those powerful emotions was overwhelming love and appreciation for her life, her job, her family, Sara. In barely a split second, she felt the value of life increase a thousandfold. She couldn’t wait to call Sara, to see her, touch her, to hold her in her arms forever.

  But first she had a job to finish.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Sara gazed at the sun setting in the distance before checking the clock on her desk: 6:55. It had been hours since she’d heard from Izzy. Earlier in the day she’d gotten a one-line text saying simply, I love you. I’m safe. I’ll call when I can. Sara was grateful for the update, and she relaxed, if only momentarily, answering the message with a heart in hopes it might convey all of her love and support. A short time later the news reported the situation in Manhattan had begun to settle, as the manhunt for a sole terrorist ended with a standoff culminating in his demise at his own hand.

  All told, thirteen explosive devices had been uncovered at Grand Central Terminal. Aside from the bomber, no fatalities had been reported, but during the search two blasts had occurred, the second of which resulted in injuries to first responders on the scene. Sara kept hearing the voice of the local correspondent in her head repeat that dreadful bit of information, and even though she felt certain she would know by now if Izzy was among the wounded, she was still worried beyond belief.

  “John said I might find you here.”

  Nicole’s voice startled her and she whipped around to see her ex leaning against the open office door, casually dressed in jeans and a scoop-neck shirt. She looked beautiful and calm, and Sara was envious of her inner peace, the polar opposite of her own state at this very moment.

  “I don’t want to bother you,” Nicole said, nodding with her chin at the pile of papers on Sara’s desk.

  “I’m not working.” Sara gestured dismissively at her computer screen which had slipped into sleep mode. “I just couldn’t sit in my room.” She closed her eyes briefly. “I thought maybe I could distract myself for a while,” she offered.

  Nicole’s smile was understanding. “That’s sort of why I’m here,” she said. Sara felt her eyebrows curl in question and she watched Nicole’s expression soften in response. “She’s fine.”

  “What?”

  “Isabel,” she responded. “I have people inside,” she offered by way of explanation. “I heard the report of a second explosion resulting in EMS casualties.” Her lips were a thin line and she looked at the floor. “I knew you must be a wreck.” Nicole appeared to hug herself as she spoke, and Sara wondered what she was bracing to say. “I took the liberty of using my executive privilege to check on your girlfriend.” She stumbled slightly over the word but continued, “Sara, she’s fine. Completely unscathed. Doing a fantastic job, actually.”

  Sara couldn’t hide her relief as the tension drained from her body and she looked at her phone on the desk. Nicole noticed.

  “There’s still very little public communication being released. Everyone there is under a gag order. I’m sure she’s not able to contact you yet. But I wanted you to know.”

  “Nic.” Sara wiped away a tear she felt forming in spite of her relief. “Thank you. I don’t really know what to say. Just, thank you.”

  “It’s obvious how much she means to you.” She clasped her hands together. “I think it was the least I could do.”

  The surprise must have been evident on her face and Nicole appeared to acknowledge it with a heavy sigh as she looked up to the ceiling. “Sara, the other day…” She pushed off the door frame and took a step into the office. “I was surprised. Whether or not I should have been, I was.” She shook her head. “And for a few days, I was really wrestling with everything.” Nicole looked right at her, her eyes heavy with emotion. “But then I saw the way you look at her.” She moved forward and leaned against the file cabinet. “I can’t compete with that.”

  “Nicole—”

  “You don’t have to say anything. It was incredibly presumptuous of me to assume after all these years—”

  “That’s the crazy part, though,” Sara said, cutting her off. “A year ago”—she shrugged, revealing her own uncertainty—“who knows?” She moved into a half sitting position against the window ledge.

  “Once I had the chance to really see you together—” Nicole shook her head. “Well, not together per se, but while she was certifying, I was standing right next to you. I think I heard your heart beating the whole time.” A sad kind of laugh escaped her. “I looked over at you—I don’t even think you noticed.”

  Sara opened her mouth to speak but Nicole held a hand up.

  “It’s okay, Sara. You’re in love with her. I see that.” She drummed her fingertips on the file cabinet, and the hollow echo filled the small office. “
I’m not here to try to talk you out of it or make any predictions about your future together.” She hung her head a touch. “I’m embarrassed about my behavior the other day. It was…I don’t know…rude, inappropriate, childish. You pick.”

  “I should have told you about Izzy sooner,” Sara said, offering her own impromptu apology.

  “I guess we’re even, then.”

  Sara thought she saw Nicole’s eyes well up, but in the dim office light it was hard to tell. “So what now?” Sara asked.

  “Now”—Nicole pulled the hem of her shirt and straightened it precisely—“I run Special Programs from Seattle.” She laughed but Sara heard seriousness in her tone.

  “Nicole, you don’t have to do that.”

  “It’s for the best, I think.”

  “I’m not trying to push you out of the job you worked so hard for. We’re all adults. I’m sure we’ll get through this.”

  “You’re right.” Nicole’s expression told her the decision was already made. “All the same, I’m going to go anyway.” She pushed her hair away from her face and squared her shoulders. “Honestly, I think a fresh start would do me some good. Seattle is a great city. And I have some friends in the regional office,” she added. “The past few years I was so caught up in work…it’s possible I romanticized parts of our relationship to a certain extent.”

  Sara nodded agreement, knowing she’d done the exact same thing. It was a truth she didn’t realize until she met Izzy, but one that had become obvious since the moment she’d fallen for her.

  “Still friends?” Sara asked tentatively.

  “We better be. Your K-9 program overhaul is genius. I’m counting on you to help roll it out. If you want. Or you can just be available by phone. Or video. Or not.” She stuttered out her explanation. “I don’t want you to think I’m being surreptitious or trying to snake you away from Izzy. I’m not. Honest.”