TAMED | FREENBECKY

34

Becca sat at her desk in the lab, trying to distract her wandering mind by working through her never-diminishing mountain of paperwork. Since she'd reconciled with Freen the week before, life had been good. Had Kirk Pike not still been walking free, Becca would even have said she was downright content. The experience of being with Freen in a trusting relationship was more wonderful than she could ever have hoped. And having Freen constantly by her side, poised to come to her defense, eased Becca's mind about the threat that Kirk posed in a way all the police officers in the world couldn't.

A whine drew her attention to the floor, where the large Rottweiler lying next to her chair stared directly into Becca's eyes. Even in canine form, Freen's fierce love for her shone through in her gaze. Sprawled on a dog pillow, hidden in plain sight, she gave Becca quiet support that made her feel like she could conquer any challenge. Dropping her hand to stroke Freen's head, Becca looked down at her but said nothing. With Wayne working at his own desk across the lab, chatting with the dog wouldn't be prudent.

The lab door slid open and Dasha strolled inside. She nodded at Wayne without taking her eyes off Becca, mouth set in a grim line. All business, she softened her expression slightly when Becca greeted her with a friendly wave. "Afternoon, Becca."

Freen lifted her head but didn't stand. This wasn't the first time Dasha had met Becca's new canine friend, but today she came bearing a gift. Crouching in front of Freen, Dasha offered a dog biscuit with a quiet "Here you go, girl."

Becca covered her mouth with her hand, trying not to laugh at the sight of the large Rottweiler taking the biscuit delicately between its teeth. She had no doubt that the last thing Freen wanted was to gobble up a dog treat, but apparently she was committed to staying in character. "Cookies. Perfect."

"Have I mentioned how glad I am that you managed to find such a badass-looking dog?" Dasha stroked Freen's chest, triggering Freen's mouth to stretch into unconscious doggy pleasure. "I don't know why I didn't think of this. A dog is an excellent deterrent."

"Well, I'm not convinced a dog will deter Kirk, but I do feel better with Luna around." Becca glanced at Freen, knowing she wasn't a huge fan of the name Becca had given her Rottweiler form. They'd both agreed that it was a nice little inside joke, though. "I'm really grateful that Freen was able to talk her friend into letting me borrow her."

Dasha rolled her eyes. "At least, Freen's good for something." She startled when Freen growled low in the back of her throat, then pulled her hand away and quickly stood. Glancing at Becca, Dasha said, "You train her to do that?"

Becca gave Freen a mock glare that she hoped didn't betray her amusement at the situation. "Maybe Freen did."

"Nice." Dasha took a step away, jamming her hands into her pockets. "So Kirk is officially the most boring man on the face of the earth. One week watching his Every move and we've got nothing. He likes to go into the city and hang out at coffee shops—one near the morgue, the other relatively close to your apartment. But so far he's done nothing to arouse suspicion. Certainly nothing we can pick him up on."

"You think he's gone dormant, or that he's made his tail?"

Grumbling, Dasha said, "My guys aren't complete amateurs. I don't see how he could have made us so quickly."

"He's a smart guy. Meticulous." Becca pushed aside her paperwork, resting her hand on Freen's head. Bolstered by her quiet strength, Becca didn't let herself get swept away by the familiar fear that always rose when she thought back to her encounter with Kirk Pike. Five minutes beneath him hardly made her an expert, but she did feel as though she knew him through the way he left his crime scenes. "He's observant. I don't think it's a stretch to imagine that he might sense he's being watched. Maybe he's just generally paranoid."