“It’s beautiful. Look at the color! It’s, what, Caribbean Vacation, maybe? It’s fun!”
“It works with the house, the trim.” Though he shrugged, her reaction brought him ridiculous pleasure. “It won’t look half bad around you.”
“It’s so smooth.” She ran a hand along the side arm. The minute he set it on the porch she plopped into it. “Oh, and it’s comfortable.” Laughing, she rocked. “An easy ride. So, does it suit me?”
“Yeah, it suits you.” He picked up the old chair.
“What are you going to do with—Oh, Simon!” She winced when he snapped one of the rungs—which also gave him ridiculous pleasure. “Someone could use it.”
“It’s crap.”
“Yes, but, I should at least recycle so—”
He broke off another rung. “There. Recycled crap into kindling. Or”—he tossed it, and sent the dogs into another mad dash—“dog toy.”
He needed to go, he thought. If he was up this early, he ought to be working.
“When’s your first class?”
“The one-on-one’s first. They ought to be here in about a half hour.”
“I’m going to get more coffee. Is there anything around here that resembles breakfast food?”
“Simon, you don’t have to stay. I’m going to be alone here sometimes.”
“I make you a chair and you can’t spare a bowl of cereal?”
She rose, laid her hands on his cheeks. “I have Froot Loops.”
“That’s not a cereal. Frosted Flakes is a cereal.”
“Out of stock. I do have Eggos.”
“Now you’re talking.”
It took a few days, but in the middle of her last afternoon class, Fiona spotted the mid-level American-made car easing down her drive—and thought, The feds.
“Keep working on bringing your dogs to heel. Astrid, you’re hesitating and tensing up. You have to show Roofus you’re pack leader.”
She stepped away from the class, turned to walk to the car. Her own tension eased when she saw the driver get out.
He wore a dark suit over a stocky build, and the flecks of gray in his hair had multiplied since the last time she’d seen him.
“Special Agent Tawney.” Fiona held out both hands. “I’m so glad it’s you.”
“Sorry it has to be anybody, but it’s good to see you. My partner, Special Agent Erin Mantz.”
The woman wore a suit as well, trim over a compact build. Her hair fell in a sleek blond tail, leaving her strong, serious face unframed.
“Ms. Bristow.”
“If you could wait? I have about another fifteen minutes to go. And, no offense, but I’d rather not announce to my clients that the FBI’s on the premises.”
“No problem,” Tawney told her. “We’ll have a seat on the porch, watch the show.”
“I’ll wrap it up as soon as I can.”
Mantz stood where she was for a moment. “She looked pretty happy to see you. Not our usual reception.”
“I was with her after she escaped from Perry. She felt comfortable with me, so I was on her during the trial.”
Mantz studied the terrain, the house, the setup from behind dark glasses. “And here you are again.”
“Yeah, here I am again. Perry’s in this, Erin, there’s not a doubt in my mind. And if there’s one person in this world he hasn’t forgotten, it’s Fiona Bristow.”
Mantz watched, cool-eyed, as Fiona supervised owners and dogs. “Is that what you’re going to tell her?”
“Let’s hope I don’t have to.”
He walked to the porch and, a gentleman to the core, sat on the toy chest to leave the rocker for his partner.
“She’s pretty isolated out here,” Mantz began, then reared back, hands out, when Bogart bopped up to say hello. “Stay back. Go away.”
Tawney patted his knee, inviting Bogart over. “Good dog. What’s the problem, Erin?”
“I don’t like dogs.”
They’d only been partners a few months and were still learning each other’s quirks and rhythms. “What’s not to like?”
“Dog breath, shedding, big, sharp teeth.” Bogart’s tail whapped her legs as Tawney rubbed him. Mantz got to her feet, moved out of range.
Peck sauntered up, glanced at Mantz, got the message. He bumped his nose on Tawney’s knee.
“These must be her dogs. You read her file, didn’t you?” he asked Mantz. “They’re S-and-R dogs. She has three. Trains them, too. She started her own unit out here.”
“You sound like a proud daddy.”
He glanced up, cocking his eyebrows at the edge of sarcasm. “I find her a tough, admirable young woman, one who helped us put a monster in a cell by standing up in court, hanging in, even after her fiancé was murdered.”
“Sorry. Sorry. The dogs make me nervous, and being nervous makes me bitchy. I read Greg Norwood’s file, too. He was a good cop. Came off solid. A little old for her, don’t you think?”
“I’d say that was up to them.”
“Proud and protective daddy.”
“Is that you being nervous and bitchy?”
“Just me observing. Jesus, here comes another one.”
She moved over another foot as Newman trotted onto the porch.
By the time Fiona finished class, her three dogs were sprawled happily at Tawney’s feet, and his partner stood rigidly at the far end of the porch.
“Sorry to keep you waiting. Did you make friends with the boys?”
“I did. Agent Mantz doesn’t like dogs.”
“Oh, sorry. I’d have kept them off the porch. Why don’t we go inside? They’ll stay out. Stay out,” she repeated, and opened the front door.
“You’re not fenced,” Mantz observed. “Aren’t you worried they’ll run off ?”
“They’re trained not to go past certain boundaries without me. Please, sit down. Why don’t I make some coffee? I’m nervous,” she said before Tawney could respond. “Even though it’s you, even though I was expecting someone and I’m glad it’s you. I’ll make some coffee and settle down.”
“Coffee’d be good.”
“Is it still coffee regular?”
He smiled. “It still is.”
“Agent Mantz?”
“Same for me, thanks.”
“I’ll just be a minute.”
“Nice place,” Mantz commented when she was alone with her partner. “Tidy. Quiet, if you like quiet. I’d go nuts.”
“Deb and I talk about getting a quiet place in the country when we retire.”
Mantz glanced back at him. They hadn’t been partners long, but she knew enough. “You’d go nuts.”
“Yeah. She thinks we could take up birding.”
“Does that mean watching them or shooting them?”
“Watching them. Jesus, Erin, why would I go out and shoot birds?”
“Why would you watch them?”
He sat a moment. “Damned if I know.”
When Fiona came back, she carried three mugs on a tray. “I’ve got these cookies Sylvia baked, which means they’re disguised health food, so I can’t promise anything.”
“How is Sylvia?” Tawney asked.
“She’s great. Her shop’s doing really well, and it keeps her busy. She helps me out here, taking classes if I get called out on a search. She’s huge into organic gardening, heads up a monthly book club, and she’s making noises about starting yoga classes—teaching them, I mean. I’m rambling. Still nervous.”
“You have a nice place here. You’re happy?”
“Yes. I needed to move, the change, and it turned out to be the best thing I could’ve done for myself. I love my work, and I’m good at it. At first, I think it was just escape, immerse myself in something so I’d have a reason to get up in the morning. Then I realized it wasn’t escape, it was finding my place, my purpose.”
“You’re not as easily accessible here, for your business, as you would’ve been in Seattle.”
“No. I started out slow, and small. The Internet and word of mouth helped me grow, and starting the unit, building a reputation. I’m still pretty small, but it’s the right fit for me. And that was all a way to ease me into saying I live in a fairly remote location and spend a lot of time either alone or with people I don’t really know—at least not initially.”
“Do you do any sort of screening before you take on a client?” Mantz asked.