“Don’t beat yourself up,” Jackson said. “A lot of boys go wrong all on their own.”
Ryan’s mother led us down a hallway to his bedroom, which featured a musty odor, a twin bed covered in rumpled sheets, and a floor littered with dirty laundry, beer cans, and candy wrappers. Brigit nosed around for a bit—sniff-sniff-sniff—before alerting on the dresser where asizeable stash of marijuana had been taped to the back of a dresser. In a box under the bed, Jackson found an equally sizable stash of pornographic DVDs and a dozen undelivered love letters proclaiming undying devotion to someone named Ruby. Some of them even included poems, though Ryan was more Dr. Seuss than Robert Frost. Ruby, oh, Ruby, I crave you more than a doobie.
We placed the marijuana in an evidence bag and retrieved Ryan’s laptop computer, but left everything else behind. After thanking Mrs. Nix for her cooperation, we drove to Blakemore’s house in South Hemphill Heights.
Blakemore’s bewildered wife stood by as we searched their home.
“He hasn’t been himself since he got fired from his job,” she said, chewing her lip in anxiety. “But I can’t see him robbing a bank and stealing a bus. That’s madness!”
“Madness or not,” Jackson hiked a thumb at me, “she caught him fleeing in a stolen vehicle.”
While we found nothing immediate, Jackson seized Blakemore’s laptop computer to see if his email account or browser history might further implicate him. Even if the crime scene techs turned up no new evidence, we had more than enough to get convictions on all three men.
When we returned to our cars, Detective Jackson gave me an appreciative pat on the shoulder and Brigit an equally appreciative pat on the head. “You two are an asset to the Fort Worth PD.”
A proud smile claimed my lips. “Thanks.”
Our work finally done, I sent a quick text to Seth. Nabbed bank robbers. Ready for that drink now.
A few seconds later his reply came through. I knew you could do it.
A warm feeling wrapped around me. Aw, shucks.
* * *
We left Brigit and Blast canoodling canine style on the couch at my apartment and drove to Dos Gringos, a nearby Mexican restaurant. It was nearly nine o’clock before Seth and I were seated in a booth, a plate of chalupas and two salt-rimmed frozen margaritas in front of us.
Seth took a sip of his drink and eyed me across the table, a naughty grin playing about his lips. “I don’t know whether I’m more turned on by your ability to put the clues together or the image of you taking those guys down with your baton.”
Personally, I was more proud of my brain than my brawn. With proper weaponry, training, and a little luck, any police officer could take down a bad guy. But not everyone could distinguish a good clue from useless information or make the elusive but necessary connections between bits of data that would identify a suspect and lead to an arrest. Nonetheless, I had no plans to debate the point with Seth. Whatever about me turned him on, I certainly didn’t want to turn it off.
When we finished our food and drinks, we headed out to his Nova. He led me to the passenger side, opened my door, and held out a hand to help me in. When I was seated, he leaned in. “Those margaritas were cold. Let’s see if we can heat things up a little.”
He proceeded to do just that by pressing his warm lips to mine in a kiss that could only be described as muy delicioso.
Not a bad way to end a crazy day. Not a bad way at all.
Look for Diane Kelly’s exciting new K-9 series
PAW ENFORCEMENT
PAW AND ORDER
..and don’t miss these Tara Holloway novels
from Diane Kelly…
DEATH, TAXES, AND A FRENCH MANICURE
DEATH, TAXES, AND A SKINNY NO-WHIP LATTE
DEATH, TAXES, AND EXTRA-HOLD HAIRSPRAY
DEATH, TAXES, AND A SEQUINED CLUTCH
(an e-original novella)
DEATH, TAXES, AND PEACH SANGRIA
DEATH, TAXES, AND HOT-PINK LEG WARMERS
DEATH, TAXES, AND GREEN TEA ICE CREAM
DEATH, TAXES, AND MISTLETOE MAYHEM
(an e-original novella)
DEATH, TAXES, AND SILVER SPURS
All available from St. Martin’s Paperbacks
Diane Kelly is a former assistant state attorney general and tax advisor, who had many brushes with white-collar criminals during her career. When she realized her experiences made excellent fodder for novels, her fingers hit the keyboard and thus began her Special Agent Tara Holloway romantic mystery series. Diane is also a proud graduate of her hometown’s Citizen Police Academy. Diane lives in Nashville, Tennessee with her own romantic hero and a houseful of spoiled rotten cats and dogs.
For more information, visit her web site at www.dianekelly.com. You can also find her on Facebook at www.facebook.com/dianekellybooks, and follow her on Twitter at www.twitter.com/dianekellybooks. Or sign up for email updates here.
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Contents
Title Page
Copyright Notice
Acknowledgments
Begin Reading
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
About the Author
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
“Upholding the Paw” Copyright © 2015 by Diane Kelly.
All rights reserved. For information, address St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.
www.stmartins.com
Cover photos © by Shutterstock
Author photo © Reggie Kelly
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eISBN 978-1-4668-8684-1
First eBook Edition: July 2015