Page 22 of Colorado K-9 Rescue

P arking in her driveway, Mckenna leaned back against her seat and took another deep breath. Maybe Cassidy was right about Evan. Maybe he was out for himself and was only hoping to get her into bed to fulfill his needs, as her sister had so eloquently put it.

But there was something about him that seemed so right.

Although sometimes she wouldn’t mind not having the repairs that went with an old house. Last winter, the cold temperatures had made the plumbing succumb to its age. That had been a mess and cost a small fortune. What would this winter bring?

As soon as they stepped into the kitchen, Mocha sprang ahead of her and raised his hackles. He air-scented a little bit, nose up and twitching, and then let out a low growl. Mckenna’s heart pounded. She’d never seen her dog act like this.

Ever.

In fact, she’d always joked that Mocha didn’t have a protective bone in his body and if someone broke in, all they’d have to do was give him a treat and a ball and he’d let them do anything they wanted.

Cassidy had disagreed with Mckenna, saying that Mocha would bond with her and protect her.

He might not be like a German shepherd, but he would do his best. Goose bumps lined Mckenna’s arms, and her heart pounded as her chest tightened.

Who was here? Could it be the person driving the Jeep?

But she hadn’t seen anyone behind her. She’d been careful.

Of course, whoever it was could have switched cars.

She was about ready to bolt out the door when Mocha calmed down.

His hackles dropped and he quit growling.

If she didn’t know better, he had a sheepish look on his face.

“Are you trying to scare me?” Mckenna asked. “You’re doing a great job of it.”

Mocha wagged his tail and headed over to his favorite spot—the couch. He climbed up and flopped down, peering at her with his brown eyes and a little wag of his tail as if asking for forgiveness.

“Okay, I guess there’s nothing wrong. The stress of this case is getting to you too. I’ll get changed and get us dinner.”

Mckenna took off her work clothes and put on shorts and a T-shirt, but she still felt on edge.

She decided to walk through the house and see if there was anything out of place or signs that someone had been there.

She was probably overreacting, but she’d feel better knowing that her house was secure.

Mocha jumped off the couch and joined Mckenna on her tour of the house. Everything was in place—including the pile of laundry.

“I wish someone would break in here and fold my laundry. Maybe vacuum too,” Mckenna said to Mocha. He stuck by her side, which was also unusual for him. He was always there to comfort her, but once they were home, Mocha usually liked to hang out on the couch until dinnertime.

Mckenna had herself convinced she was paranoid when she arrived at her back door.

The porch overlooked a beautiful view of mountain peaks.

They were coming into her favorite time of year when the aspen trees changed to a gorgeous golden color and the hills were dotted with groves of yellow and red among the dark green of the evergreens.

Mckenna was about ready to turn around when something caught her eye.

Some sort of book was open on her porch table. There were objects on top of it. Mocha stepped in front of her again, his hackles raised. She opened the back door, and the screen door gave a groan as she stepped out onto the porch, hands shaking and heart racing.

A low growl rumbled in Mocha’s throat.

Mckenna forced herself to go over to the table, and when she stepped closer, she started crying.

Fear coursed through her. The book was her journal.

No one knew about her journal. Not even Cassidy or her therapist. Her therapist had suggested that she keep one to help process her trauma, but she’d never told anyone that she was doing it.

Normally, it was tucked into the top drawer of her bedside table.

As she took another step closer, the old porch creaked. Mocha stayed in front of her and sniffed the journal, then he started growling.

She should run. Get out of here. Why was she still standing there? But fear paralyzed her. How often had she told victims about fight-or-flight? Now her feet were stuck in place. She wanted to see what was left on the journal.

Regret immediately flowed through her.

Close enough now to the table, Mckenna could see the object.

A black diamond tennis bracelet in sterling silver.

Her mother had given it to her for her sixteenth birthday.

She’d been devastated that she lost it when she’d been abducted, but her mother kept telling Mckenna she didn’t care.

It was more important to have Mckenna back. Bracelets could be replaced.

Run , Mckenna kept telling herself. Get out of here. He could be watching you. How dare he ruin your safe place?

Then she saw the message. There was a scribble next to the bracelet that she could barely read. Mckenna lightly touched the journal, tipping it toward her. The words were hard to read, but Mckenna was able to decipher his handwriting and the message.

I’m so disappointed. I didn’t release you so you could fall in love with an FBI agent. Remember, I love the game of catch and release. What made you think that you wouldn’t be caught again? You were the best. There’s no one else like you. I know, I’ve tried out plenty.

Now her flight instincts kicked in. Was he in the house? In the yard? Waiting to grab her? She turned and ran back inside, Mocha by her side. He seemed scared too. Mckenna grabbed her keys and phone, then the pair sprinted out to her car.

“Screw your crate,” Mckenna said to Mocha.

Getting him in his travel crate would only give someone time to grab her.

She opened the driver-side door and Mocha hopped in.

Mckenna waited for him to go to the passenger’s seat and then she jumped in the driver’s seat.

She locked the doors and attempted to put her keys in the ignition, but her hands shook so violently she was having a tough time starting the car.

Next car would have a key fob. That would be a much quicker getaway.

She managed to start the car and drove down the street to a coffee shop near a gas station. It was a busy area with tourists stopping to fill up and get their caffeine fix for the mountain drive ahead of them.

Her whole body shook as Mckenna managed to unlock her cell phone and dial 911.