Hot Zone (Elite Force 2)

She clicked and her dog trotted alongside her. “That would be best. I hear the service isn’t so great around here right now.”

Without another word, she made tracks. He wasn’t big on silence. Left too much time to think, especially at times like this. “What made you get into this line of work?”

She veered off the path with Disco to let a family of four walk past, backpacks overflowing. So many people on the move, the masses became almost invisible. “I could ask the same of you.”

“You first.” He reclaimed his spot beside her.

“Fine. You want my life story? Okay, but it’s not bar pickup cutesy. My mother was a hoarder. She hoarded dogs.” Her pointy jaw jutted. “She died when the animal crates fell on top of her, and since then, I’ve had a mission to rescue.”

“Holy shit.” Her words knocked the stuffing right out of him, a damn rare occurrence. “That’s… uh…”

“The stuff reality shows are made of? Yep, it sure is.” She clapped a hand on her chest. “And in my case, it’s not true. I’m joking.”

And there she went, with a surprise second punch.

“Oh, right.” He stared at her, trying to figure her out, and if he couldn’t figure her out, how come he was so into her? “And why did you feel the need to lead with a reality-show fib?”

“You said jokes are your way of coping with stress. I was just doing my part to help out.”

At the fork in the cracked dirt road, she steered her dog left, the school coming into sight a hundred yards ahead, just past a topsy-turvy playground. A dozen or so staff moved in and out of the building, probably a shift change.

Liam jogged to catch up with Rachel, a different feel, since he was usually in the lead. His knees groaned a little more these days after his years jumping from planes as an Army Ranger, then cross-training to become an air force PJ. But he could still keep up with a challenge, whether locating a friend…

Or bantering with a sexy lady dog handler. In which case, he should be sure of one little detail. “Is there a Mr. Flores?”

“Only my father,” she shot over her shoulder.

Good so far. “Ever been divorced?”

“Never married. Never had the time. I have my dogs for companionship.” A dark brown strand slipped from under her helmet, catching in the wind. “My career keeps me on the road most of the time. Not many men are interested in a wife who’s never around.”

“Ever been in love?”

She pivoted to face him. “Ever been called nosy? Or rude?”

“More than once.” He stopped in front of her, a few feet shy of the school’s front steps.

He reached into his vest and pulled out the wadded-up T-shirt Hugh had left after his shower. “This is the door the army nurse—Lieutenant Gable—said Hugh would have left out of. And here’s something he wore yesterday. It’s filthy and reeks, but there’s definitely plenty of Hugh Franco’s sweat here for your dog to work with.”

“We would call this the PLS—point last seen.”

“Right, okay then.” Swallowing hard, he passed over the dirty cotton.

Rachel swapped into professional mode in a snap—as if she hadn’t already been all business. Disco’s loping manner morphed to sleek attentiveness. Rachel unwound a lengthy leash, about thirty feet, attached to his harness, different from when he’d run freely on top of the piles of earthquake debris to locate survivors. She held the shirt out for the dog.

“Go find,” she ordered. “Go find.”

Disco buried his nose in the soiled shirt, sniff-sniff-sniffing, while Rachel let him take his time to get a solid read. Disco tipped his head into the airstream left and right, then shifted his attention downward, to the ground. He worked in circles outward, farther and farther away in some sort of doggy grid system Liam couldn’t help but notice and admire.

He kept his silence, not sure what protocol she would prefer. And God, he hoped Disco could work some kind of SAR magic that located Hugh holed up somewhere taking a nap or enjoying a hefty breakfast with the woman and kid.

Except while Hugh Franco was one edgy bastard, he was always, always, one hundred percent in the mission.

Rachel followed her dog at work, watching his path with narrowed eyes. “Actually, I was engaged once,” she said softly, catching Liam off guard. “Right after graduation from high school. He proposed just before he deployed overseas. He never came back.”

“I’m sorry,” Liam said automatically, insufficiently, but sincerely.

“Me, too.” She looped the leash around and around her hand. “I had my chance, found my soul mate, and lost him. End of story.”