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  KILLER HEADLINE

  Reporter Madison Coles wants to write an exposé on the crime spree rocking Desert Valley, Arizona—but the small town’s residents and police are tight-lipped. Even when Madison herself is attacked, the only help she can get is protection from rookie K-9 officer James Harrison and his trusty bloodhound. Suspicious of the reporter’s motives, the handsome cop keeps her at arm’s length. But the more Madison’s life is threatened, the more focused she is on finding the truth—and the closer she gets to James. Can he help her find the story without them both ending up in the obituary pages?

  Rookie K-9 Unit: These lawmen solve the toughest cases with the help of their brave canine partners

  “Help me,” Madison managed to whisper to the figure backlit from the sun.

  Dust stung her eyes, grit caking her mouth. She did not realize it was James who had entered until his face appeared in the gap under the desk.

  “Madison?” He wore an expression of unadulterated surprise and relief. “Thank You, God,” he said.

  “I was sitting here saying the same thing,” she replied, crawling out from under the desk. The trailer had collapsed. Someone had made it collapse. Her stomach was flip-flopping madly at the sight of him.

  “Are you hurt?” he asked.

  She managed a shake of her head before he clutched her to him for just a moment, held tightly against his wide chest, feeling the mad thundering of his heart.

  “You’re really okay, then?” he repeated.

  “I’m okay.”

  But someone didn’t want her to be.

  ROOKIE K-9 UNIT:

  These lawmen solve the toughest cases

  with the help of their brave canine partners

  Protect and Serve—Terri Reed, April 2016

  Truth and Consequences—Lenora Worth, May 2016

  Seek and Find—Dana Mentink, June 2016

  Honor and Defend—Lynette Eason, July 2016

  Secrets and Lies—Shirlee McCoy, August 2016

  Search and Rescue—Valerie Hansen, September 2016

  Dana Mentink is an award-winning author of Christian fiction. Her novel Betrayal in the Badlands won a 2010 RT Reviewers’ Choice Best Book Award, and she was pleased to win the 2013 Carol Award for Lost Legacy. She has authored more than a dozen Love Inspired Suspense novels. Dana loves feedback from her readers. Contact her via her website at danamentink.com.

  Books by Dana Mentink

  Love Inspired Suspense

  Rookie K-9 Unit

  Seek and Find

  Pacific Coast Private Eyes

  Dangerous Tidings

  Seaside Secrets

  Wings of Danger

  Hazardous Homecoming

  Secret Refuge

  Stormswept

  Shock Wave

  Force of Nature

  Flood Zone

  Treasure Seekers

  Lost Legacy

  Dangerous Melody

  Final Resort

  Visit the Author Profile page at Harlequin.com for more titles.

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  Seek and Find

  Dana Mentink

  Remember ye not the former things,

  neither consider the things of old.

  Behold, I will do a new thing; now it shall spring forth;

  shall ye not know it? I will even make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert.

  —Isaiah 43:18–19

  To those faithful K-9 officers and their police handlers, thank you for your dedication and service.

  Contents

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  DEAR READER

  EXCERPT FROM MYSTERY CHILD BY SHIRLEE McCOY

  One

  Murder. The word rattled through Madison’s mind along with the outrage. She was driving fast—too fast. Rocks struck the fenders with angry thunks. When the twenty-seven-year-old reporter made the dusty turn that was to take her the final five miles into the hole-in-the-wall town of Desert Valley in northwestern Arizona, her irritation contributed to her lead foot on the gas pedal.

  The shooting of a K-9 trainer was just a small piece of the madness in Desert Valley. Homicide, the unsolved attempted murder of a prominent citizen, suspicious cases gone cold. She itched to investigate, but her editor was unmoved by her ambition, sticking her with a story about how the crime spree was hurting business in the area. Other seasoned reporters were working the big cases, and she got stuck with a business story.

  Business? When there was a killer roaming loose, or possibly more than one? She felt the familiar hitch in her breathing. Madison knew a thing or two about killers. One might even say it was in her DNA.

  Focus, Madison. The most recent slaying, of police-dog master trainer Veronica Earnshaw, had rated a few headlines. On top of that, Marian Foxcroft, wealthy Desert Valley benefactress, lay in a coma after being attacked in her home. But those big stories had been assigned to the senior reporters who’d already wrapped their pieces and left town.

  She flipped on her tape recorder. “And what about the deaths on the night of the police fund-raiser dance? A cop’s wife is murdered one year, and then a few years later, rookie Mike Riverton falls down a flight of stairs. And then another rookie, Brian Miller, dies in a fire? All on the night of the dance? Someone should look into that.” She flicked the recorder off and tossed it on the seat in disgust. And that someone should be me. No one had more motivation to look into the deaths than she. After all, I am the daughter of a murderer, she thought with a shiver.

  But newly hired reporters with a hundred bucks in their bank accounts and a rent check coming due couldn’t afford to lose their jobs. Besides, she was desperate to put down some roots in Tuckerville, her new home some forty-five minutes away from Desert Valley. She wanted to get used to a rural life for a change, and ideally her sister would stay for a good long while. It was the only way they could learn to love their way past the hurt.

  Pebbles pinged as she pressed the accelerator. Midday sun blazed onto the windshield, dazzling her. A split second later, everything changed. One moment there was nothing but shrub-lined asphalt ahead and the next, a fawn-colored bloodhound wearing a heavy leather collar shot across the road, followed by a police officer who halted in the bushes, startled, intense sapphire-blue eyes opened wide.

  She had only a moment to register that he was very fit, very tall and more than a little irritated as she slammed on the brakes to avoid the dog. Then the tires squealed, and she skidded off the road and through a screen of shrubbery, bumping to a stop amid a pile of rocks. She sat, heart thumping, panting, nerves jangling from the mad jostling.

  The officer ran to the car. “Are you all right?”<
br />
  She blinked and nodded. He opened the door for her and she got out, noting both her flat front tire and his hair, the color of the desert sand. “I’m okay, but my tire’s another story.”

  He called out, and the bloodhound loped from the trees, coming to an ungainly stop next to the officer.

  “Your dog?”

  “Yes. I’m very sorry, ma’am. Every once in a while, Hawk gets this wild notion, forgets he is a police dog and takes off. I think it has something to do with squirrels. He’s certain they’re mocking him.” He shot an exasperated look at his canine. “Looks like we’re gonna need more training.” Hawk slurped a tongue along the officer’s pant leg.

  “Knock it off, dog,” he said.

  There was an enticing, familiar scent clinging to the officer.

  “I think he tastes garlic,” she said with a smile.

  He flushed red. “Oh, man. I smell like garlic? Earlier I was trying to figure out my mom’s recipe for beef stew. I’ve showered and everything, but the scent gets into your pores.”

  “Won’t your mom give you the recipe?”

  “No. She says once I learn it, I won’t come around as much.”

  They both laughed.

  The big-bodied bloodhound sat heavily on the ground, staring at her through the fleshy folds of his face. Police dog or not, he was adorable, and his handler was not hard to look at, either. The guy should have been on a police recruitment poster or something.

  Hawk gave her a scolding look, as if she had somehow gotten between him and his rodent nemesis.

  “Is he a puppy?”

  “Two years old, but from what I can see, he’s got plenty of puppy left in him. He’s managed to destroy two pairs of work boots, a cupboard door and the backseat of my truck. And what is this?” He bent closer, picking a scrap of material from Hawk’s lip. “This better not be a piece of the backseat again, dog.”

  Hawk did not look the least bit contrite. He shook his head, jowls flapping. Madison giggled. “Not your typical police dog?”

  “Just a bloodhound. They’re not patrol dogs, really more specialized for tracking and trailing. Maybe I should have requested a nice German shepherd. They don’t eat backseats.” Hawk yawned, and James chuckled. “We didn’t become partners until a couple of months ago. Just graduated from the K-9 training center in Desert Valley, and we’re assigned here temporarily.”

  “I heard. You and four other rookies with their K-9s. Marian Foxcroft paid for you all to be assigned to Desert Valley until you solve the murder of Veronica Earnshaw. She was the police-dog master trainer, right?”

  “You’re well informed.”

  “I like to keep apprised.”

  The officer sighed, taking in the flattened front tire. “Anyway, we were doing a search, and he’s still learning. He’s determined, but he takes off once in a while and breaks the rules. Hawk wins the prize for having to take the most retraining courses.”

  “I guess I could use some retraining, too. I was going too fast.”

  “Yes, you were, now that you mention it,” he said with a grin. “It’s thirty-five along this stretch. You from out of town?”

  “Not far out. I live in Tuckerville with my sister.” At least, if their disagreement from the night before hadn’t driven Kate away. Things are getting better, Mads. Remember that. After years of estrangement, desperation had finally driven Kate back. “She got a job in Desert Valley just yesterday.”

  He arched an eyebrow. “Good for her. Not much work around here to be had.”

  He was right. Kate had combed Tuckerville and all the nearby towns until she’d finally landed a job, which gave Madison an even greater motivation to help solve the crime spree here in the tiny town. Kate might not want the close relationship that Madison craved, but Madison intended to do what she could for her only sibling, one way or another. At least the town where she worked would be safer if she could help nab a few killers. You’ll thank me later, Kate.

  “So, Officer, are you going to give me a ticket?”

  He shot her a rueful grin. “In view of the fact that my dog was misbehaving, I say we call it a draw.” He extended a hand. “James Harrison.”

  “Madison Coles,” she said, noting that his eyes were such an intense blue they seemed lit from the inside, like sunlight playing through stained glass. His palms were strong and warm, tough enough to indicate he worked with his hands when he wasn’t on duty—or maybe the calluses were from hauling on a leash all day. And the faint scent of garlic was more enticing than any cologne. “That sounds fair to me.” She went to the trunk and fished out a lug wrench.

  “Let me change that tire for you,” he said, taking the tool from her hands and hefting the spare from the trunk.

  “I can do it,” she said quickly. Take care of yourself, Mads.

  But he was already crouched over, easily detaching the lug nuts. “I’ve never let a lady change her own flat, and I’m not about to now.”

  “Thanks,” she said. She hadn’t expected to find chivalry in this desert nowhere. It both pleased her and kicked up some anxiety. He’s a cop, Mads. Perfectly okay to let him change your tire. “What were you searching for, anyway?”

  “Just following a hunch.”

  The trees behind them were thick with tangled branches, the perfect place for someone to hide. A killer, perhaps?

  “So, you’re following a lead on Veronica Earnshaw’s murder? Or maybe the attack on Marian Foxcroft?”

  He frowned. “We’re all doing our best.”

  “You must be making progress. You’ve got a lot of extra rookies assigned to this town, not to mention the dogs.”

  He knelt to remove the tire. “Yes, that’s true. The town is practically crawling with K-9s until we’re reassigned elsewhere.” There was a touch of cynicism in his voice. “Why are you so interested?”

  She shrugged. “Who isn’t? Murders and a bludgeoning attack in a small town like this? How is the investigation going?”

  He paused in the act of wrestling on the spare. “Slowly.”

  “In your opinion, is the Earnshaw case linked to what happened to Marian Foxcroft?”

  He didn’t answer.

  She pressed on eagerly. “And those deaths on the night of the police fund-raiser. Officer Ryder Hayes’s wife was murdered, and two other deaths were ruled accidental. What’s your take on it?”

  He kept his eyes on the tire this time, and she drank in his strong profile, noting that his full mouth was now drawn into a tight line. “Why is this beginning to sound like an interview?”

  She ignored the question. “Murders, assaults. What is going on in this town?”

  They were interrupted by the arrival of another car. This time an older officer got out, late thirties with thinning hair and a gaunt look about him except for his well-padded waist. Hawk greeted him with a flapping of his enormous ears. He scratched the dog’s fleshy jowls, earning a lick, which he wiped from his cheek.

  “Hey, James. Afternoon, ma’am,” the officer said.

  “This is Officer Ken Bucks,” James said by way of introduction. “Madison Coles.”

  Bucks eyed her and the car. “Got some trouble? Shall I call for a tow?”

  “I’m taking care of it,” James said. “Just needs the spare put on.”

  Bucks quirked an eyebrow. “Madison Coles. I know that name.” His eyes shifted in thought, sparking when he’d made some connection. “You might want to let her change her own tire.”

  James shot him a look. “Why?”

  Officer Bucks raised his chin at James. “She’s another reporter, Canyon County Gazette. Carrie said she’s called three times this week.”

  Great. Now she’d get the cold shoulder from these two cops. Carrie Dunleavy, the Desert Valley Police Department secretary, hadn’t
given her any information Madison hadn’t read herself in her own employer’s newspaper. Was the secretary even passing along her messages to the chief and officers? Probably.

  “I wouldn’t have had to call so much if one of you had bothered to return my messages.”

  “We’re a small town,” Bucks said. “We like to respect the privacy of our citizens and play things close to the vest, and we’ve had our fill of reporters nosing around in police business. Isn’t that right, Officer Harrison?”

  The change in James’s expression from the moment the other cop outed her as a reporter was dramatic. It was as if someone closed the shutters, cutting off all the light from his expression. “You’re a reporter?”

  She nodded.

  He finished the tire and stood. “Should be good to go now. Sorry for the trouble.” There was none of the previous warmth in his voice. He handed her a business card. “I’ll pay to get you another spare since the accident was my fault.”

  He summoned the dog, and they walked toward his car, which she now spotted some twenty feet up the road. Bucks remained behind, next to Madison.

  “Wait. Can I ask you a few questions?” she called to James.

  “No, ma’am,” he threw over his shoulder.

  “Why not?” she asked his departing back.

  “Because he doesn’t like reporters,” Bucks said, removing a stick of gum from a pack in his pocket and folding it into his mouth. “And he’s got a good reason, since a reporter ruined his family.”

  Ruined his family? Ironic, since a reporter had saved hers, though her sister didn’t see it that way. She straightened her shoulders. “Well, how about you, Officer Bucks? I’m actually just here to write a story about how crime has affected local businesses. Would you be willing to answer a few questions? Just for background information?”

  “No, ma’am,” he said with a grin. “I would not. Enjoy your stay in Desert Valley.” With a tip of his hat, he returned to his car, smacking his gum.

  “I’m going to be in town writing a story whether you cooperate or not,” she called to him.