Colton P.i. Protector. Regan Black
to glare at them.
“What happened?” the nurse asked, escorting him through the doors to an available treatment bay, and he situated Danica on the bed. A male nurse hurried in, asking for information.
“She was drugged earlier and found unconscious.” He pushed a hand through his short hair as he explained what he knew. “She came around on her own just before 11:00 p.m. and was doing fine. She refused to let the paramedics transport her. On the way over, we were talking and then she just blacked out.”
“All right. We’ll take it from here,” the nurse said, nudging him clear so he could do a blood draw.
“I’ll notify her brother that she’s here,” Shane said as he ducked out.
He’d done his part getting her here and he could leave with a clear conscience. So he had no logical explanation for why he parked the car and walked back into the hospital with Stumps at his side. In the waiting room, he sent Carson a text message that Danica was being evaluated.
Telling himself it was a simple courtesy and he’d leave as soon as someone from her family arrived, he found an out-of-the-way corner to wait. Stumps stretched out at his feet, resting his chin on his paws. Soon soft snores were coming from the tired corgi. Shane thought he had the right idea. He leaned back against the wall and tried to rest his eyes.
Instead, his mind tortured him with the images of Danica sprawled awkwardly on the grass and her disorientation when she’d come to. Contrary to public opinion, he didn’t actively wish her or any of her siblings harm. He was thankful the attacker had used a drug to clear a path to steal the prized Malinois rather than overpower her with brute force that might have been deadly. For all her skill as an expert dog trainer, she couldn’t change the fact that she was petite.
He sat forward and scrubbed at the stubble on his jaw. It was impossible to shut down his investigator’s mind-set. The attacker’s decision not to simply kill her had Shane thinking maybe the thief knew her. Probably even liked her. How did that shift the suspect pool? Although he avoided the Gages on principle whenever possible, he was in the minority. Danica had plenty of friends as well as plenty of sympathy for her recent loss.
Unlike him.
His connections were irrelevant. He didn’t want friends or sympathy anyway. Being selective about whom he spent time with was a survival tactic. When he’d been young and stupid, his casual acquaintances had landed him in a world of trouble. In prison, it had taken him less than a week to learn having the wrong friends was worse than having no friends.
He couldn’t stop the errant thought that even at eighteen his explanation of his presence a few blocks from a crime scene should have been enough to keep him out of jail. Unfortunately, Sergeant Gage decided otherwise and railroaded Shane for murder because of his last name and lousy-neighborhood address.
Growing up in the rougher neighborhoods in Red Ridge would have been challenge enough to outgrow and overcome. Being one of Rusty Colton’s kids made his childhood exponentially worse. The familiar frustration with all the things he couldn’t change gripped his shoulders and coursed down to his hands. Deliberately, he relaxed his clenched fists and smoothed his open palms over his knees. The past was gone. He was here because he’d rebuilt his life. He had a better address and a lucrative career with an excellent partner.
Right now, his intuition said this was definitely a case about a dog, but how the thief had chosen to take that dog made him curious. Had someone’s fondness and respect for Danica changed what should have been a more aggressive approach?
He rested his elbows on his knees and let his hands fall between them. Familiar with the gesture, Stumps took advantage, sitting up so Shane could pet his ears while he gave the situation more thought.
Why did he care? He’d stumbled onto a crime scene—that was all. “Come on,” he said to the dog. “The Gages can take care of their own.” He stood up, waiting for Stumps to stretch and yawn. They had other cases and a hefty to-do list waiting at home. Writing up the report from their week of tracking down the site of the gun deal topped the list. He’d be far more effective after a few hours of sleep. And he definitely wanted to go into the station fresh tomorrow when he had to share the text message from Demi. He kept hoping that the next time he checked his phone there would be another text from her. So far, only more silence. He was nearly out the door when a nurse called his name from the reception desk.
He turned. “Yes?”
“Follow me.” Her gaze dropped to the dog, her lips pursed in disapproval.
Shane lifted the hem of his shirt to show her the K9 badge clipped to his belt. “He won’t be any trouble.”
With a dubious sniff, the nurse led him back to the treatment area. “The patient has been asking for you,” she said over her shoulder as they neared the curtained bay where he’d handed Danica over to the medical staff.
Disbelief rendered him speechless. No matter that he’d been out of prison for nearly a decade—the hard lessons died harder. Shane knew it was always better to wait and see about a situation rather than start asking questions too soon. The person who spoke first lost the advantage.
As the nurse swept aside the curtain, he saw Danica sitting up a little. “Thank goodness. I knew you’d stay.” She looked to the doctor. “I signed the paper. You can inform him about anything.” Her eyes snapped back to him. “Tell them you’ll take me home.”
Before Shane could sort out how to respond, a doctor in blue scrubs stepped forward. “We’d like to keep her for observation overnight. I don’t have the blood work back to know what she was dosed with. Based on your statement, I’d rather she wasn’t alone.”
“Then she’ll stay overnight,” Shane stated.
“Don’t side with them,” Danica protested. “I need to get out there. You need to get out there and track down Nico.”
She was more agitated now than when she’d woken in the training center yard. What was going on? “I’m sure your brother is organizing those details.”
“Stumps already knows what to look for,” she insisted. “There’s no time to lose.” Her green eyes were wide and a little dazed in a face that was far too pale. The freckles dusting the bridge of her nose stood out more than ever.
She knew Stumps wasn’t a tracking dog. “She wasn’t like this earlier.” Shane glared at the doctor. “What did you give her?”
“Nothing that should cause an adverse reaction.” The doctor shook his head. “Whatever is in her system is presenting almost like a rebound effect.”
Shane wasn’t particularly familiar with the term, but he assumed the drugs used on Danica were messing with her system. Danica started to swing her legs over the side of the bed. “Wait a minute,” he said, stepping forward to stop her. “Stay put,” he said.
“Nico could be anywhere,” she wailed.
“Is Nico her child?” the doctor asked quietly.
Good grief. The doc had to be from out of town if he didn’t know Danica. “No, he’s a working dog,” Shane explained, using as few details as possible. “We believe whoever drugged her stole the dog from the K9 training center this evening.”
The doctor arched his eyebrows. “I see.”
Danica was crying, her green eyes swimming with tears, her hands clutching the sheets. Shane moved closer to the bed and put Stumps in her lap, hoping the dog could calm her. The medical staff clearly wasn’t having any luck. Though Stumps was his dog, the corgi knew and trusted Danica. Stumps wedged his nose under her hand until she was stroking his head and ears. Within a minute, the crying slowed and the tension in her face evaporated.
“Thanks,” one of the nurses murmured as she passed behind him.
Someone brought him a chair. Resigned, he sat down. He wasn’t leaving without his dog which meant he wasn’t going home anytime soon. He watched the