Only Her (A K2 Team Novel)(61)

“Thanks,” he said, hating how gruff his voice sounded. “So other than my doctor appointments . . .” he turned to Riley, “I’m all yours.”

“Lucky me.”

“I don’t know about that, but let’s hope so.” The smile she gave him went straight to his gut. He cleared his throat. “Along with protecting you, we need to up our search for the target. Maria’s working on the car angle, and if you would, boss, it might be helpful if you pulled in some favors with the police department to make sure they increase their patrols in the area.”

“Done,” Kincaid said. “I’ve also sent what we know so far to a profiler friend of mine. She’s going to get something back to us by the end of the week.”

“Thanks, boss. Appreciate it.”

Riley twirled her bottle of water. “What can I do?”

“You and I are going to do a lot of dog walking, watching for anything suspicious.”

“What about us?” Jake asked.

“Until we get some kind of lead on this character, I’m not sure what you can do. If you’re bored and have a little free time, wouldn’t hurt for you to cruise around the area of Riley’s clinic, keeping an eye out.”

“Charlie and I can take walks around there,” Ryan said.

Riley glanced up. “Who’s Charlie?” Was there another member of the team she hadn’t met?

“My fiancée. She’s an amazing aerobatic pilot.”

There was so much pride in his voice that Riley couldn’t help smiling. She looked forward to Saturday when she’d get to meet all the wives and girlfriends. These men were fascinating, and she wanted to see what kind of women they fell for. Growing up in foster care, moving from home to home, frequently changing schools, she’d not had friends, much less a bestie.

If asked to describe herself, she’d say that her first memories were of a little girl who was shy and scared. She didn’t remember much of her parents. They’d been killed in a car crash when she was three, and she’d gone to live with her only relative, her grandmother. Nana, grief-stricken over the death of her only child—Riley’s father—hadn’t had room in her heart for a granddaughter confused over the drastic change in her life. Riley learned to be as quiet as a mouse least she anger Nana and get another lecture on what a burden she was.

When she was six and about to start school, Nana had had a heart attack and died. There were a lot of things Riley had learned in the following years, and how to push past the shyness was the first. It was only because she had learned to stand up for herself that she’d remained mostly untouched by people who were supposed to protect and care for her. When she wasn’t allowed enough to eat and was sent to bed hungry, she’d learned how to steal food in a way it wouldn’t be missed. That lesson, she’d discovered the hard way during her stay in the first foster home when she’d eaten some leftover fried chicken.

As she grew into her teen years, and the fathers or older boys in whatever home she was living in had tried to touch her in a way that made her uncomfortable, she’d threatened to go straight to the mother or to call 911. When one of the boys hadn’t believed her, she’d screamed her head off. Blaming Riley for coming onto her son, the mother had called Child Protective Services. Faster than she could pack her meager belongings in a garbage bag, she was put in a new home, which had been fine with her.

Another lesson had been learned. If a home she was sent to was intolerable, raise enough hell and she’d be removed. By the time she’d been labeled a problem child, she’d shut down any hope that a nice family would adopt her. It wasn’t until Reed that she’d dared to love again, and after losing him, John and Pat had literally saved her life, taking her into their home and dishing out their no-nonsense love.

With the determination of a bulldog intent on keeping a bone, she’d chased her dream of being a veterinarian, and she’d succeeded. The day she’d received her doctor of veterinary medicine degree, John and Pat had been the only two people in the world who’d been there to celebrate with her.

She glanced around the table. Now here she was, in a room full of people who seemed to care about her safety. It was enough to make a girl cry. The discussion wound down, and Logan stood.

“Got a minute, Cody?” he said.

“Are you going to ask if I’m worried about having another flashback?”

Logan returned to his seat. “That was my intention. I thought you’d prefer to discuss it in private.”

Under the table, Cody’s leg bounced, bumping hers, making her think of an agitated tiger. That was the only way she knew the subject distressed him. Other than that, nothing showed on his face, and his hands were flat on the arm of his chair.