Operation Blind Date
When a loved one goes missing…and no one believes you… Weeping in front of customers isn’t Laney Adams’s style. She would have gone unnoticed if Security expert Teague Johnson hadn't come to her grooming shop to pick up his boss’s dog, Cutter. Something about Teague–or maybe it's the uncannily perceptive canine–compels her to open up about her best friend who's gone missing and how she feels responsible.The confession reminds Teague of his own secret guilt. He can't turn away. With the help of the Foxworth Foundation—and Cutter—Laney and Teague launch a dangerous search that leads to unexpected twists…and undeniable passion.
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When a loved one goes missingâ¦and no one believes youâ¦
Weeping in front of customers isnât Laney Adamsâs style. She would have gone unnoticed if security expert Teague Johnson hadnât come to her grooming shop to pick up his bossâs dog, Cutter. Something about Teagueâor maybe itâs the uncannily perceptive canineâcompels her to open up about her best friend whoâs gone missing and how she feels responsible. The confession reminds Teague of his own secret guilt. He canât turn away. With the help of the Foxworth Foundationâand CutterâLaney and Teague launch a dangerous search that leads to unexpected twistsâ¦and undeniable passion.
âI introduced them. This is my fault.â
Instinctively Teague reached across the table and put his hand over Laneyâs. âYou didnât know.â
He needed to know more about what had triggered her worry.
âTell me what about your friendâs texts you felt were off. You showed them to the police?â
She grimaced again as she nodded. âThey thought it was just drunk texting. I know better.â
âBecause?â
She reached into the low front pocket of her shirtâwhen had scrubs become somehow sexy? he wonderedâand pulled out a phone. She tapped it a few times, then held it out to him.
He took it and read the message:
Take care of Pepper 4me, pls? Heâs such a gd dog. Thx
âSeems innocuous enough,â Teague said.
âYes. Except for three things. Pepper? A cat. And a she.â She took a deep breath. âAnd sheâs been dead for ten years.â
Cutterâs Code: Men of honor offering the ultimate in private witness protection
Dear Reader,
I once set up a friend on a blind date. While they were out doing the traditional dinner and a movie, I sat at home in a panic. It would go horribly, they would have a horrible time, they would hate each other and then both hate me, what was I thinking? As time passed and my friend didnât call to berate me, and I couldnât reach her, that writerâs imagination that is both blessing and curse went crazy. By midnight Iâd decided theyâd both been killed in a car accident. By 2:00 a.m., theyâd picked up a hitchhiker who turned out to be an ax murderer. By 4:00 a.m., Iâd sent my friend into the clutches of a serial killer.
Ten months later, they got married. Theyâd been talking all that time, and never once thought of me and my wicked imagination. Hmpf.
I recovered, basked in my own cleverness for a while, wore the official title of âmatchmakerâ at the wedding with some embarrassment, and laughed at those awful moments when I feared the worst. But apparently I never really forgot them, because they resurfaced as I was toying with the beginnings of this book. May this be as close as you ever come to this scenario!
Happy reading,
Justine
JUSTINE DAVIS
lives on Puget Sound in Washington State, watching big ships and the occasional submarine go by, and sharing the neighborhood with assorted wildlife, including a pair of bald eagles, deer, a bear or two and a tailless raccoon. In the few hours when sheâs not planning, plotting or writing her next book, her favorite things are photography, knitting her way through a huge yarn stash and driving her restored 1967 Corvette roadsterâtop down, of course.
Connect with Justine at her website, justinedavis.com, at Twitter.com/Justine_D_Davis, or on Facebook at Facebook.com/JustineDareDavis.
A lonely little girl.
A mistreated pup who needed a home. A perfect match.
Ten to nineteen, important years for a girl.
He was the brother I didnât have. My playmate, my confidant. My comfort through some rough family years.
He showed me the heart hole only a dog can fill.
And the real meaning of unconditional love.
Decades later, and a slew of dogs afterwards,
I miss him yet. Love yaâ, Scamper!
âPam Baker
This is the second in a series of dedications from readers who have shared the pain of the loss of a beloved dog. For more information visit my website at www.justinedavis.com.
Contents
Chapter 1
Change was coming.
He could feel it in the air, Teague Johnson thought. It wouldnât be long before the trees started to turn. Soon after that there would be a riot of color as the Pacific Northwest said goodbye to summer and settled in for a long, likely wet and maybe cold winter.
Heâd missed that. As a kid, all heâd wanted was out of the wet, but after a while spent at Camp Pendleton near San Diego, heâd found the lack of defined seasons oddly disconcerting. It messed with his sense of time passing. And when heâd finally come home, heâd welcomed the shift from summer to fall and winter to spring in a way he never had before.
