and lines marked it with elegance, yet simplicity. Two men stood on a wraparound porch. Waiting.
Aspen’s white SUV aimed toward a fenced-in area away from the house. Already her door opened by the time he pulled up alongside. He slid the gear into P ARK , eyes on the rearview mirror. Well-muscled, sporting a Glock holstered to his thigh, a former Army grunt, if he ever saw one, approached.
Cardinal stretched his jaw and snagged the bandana from the glove compartment. He climbed out, sizing up the competition who gave Aspen a warm familiar hug.
“How’s he doing?” she asked.
“Fine. Trin’s got him on his toes.”
Aspen laughed.
The man shifted and extended a hand. “Heath Daniels.” Though the words were friendly, his posture was not. The man had territory issues.
Take it slow
. “Dane Markoski.”
Aspen motioned to him. “Dane was on the news—you might have seen him.”
Daniels nodded. “Mr. Markoski.”
“Oh, and this is Jibril Khouri.” Aspen turned, brushing a blond curl from her face. “He owns the ranch.”
Cardinal shook the man’s hand. “The land is beautiful.”
“I couldn’t agree more.” Khouri’s gaze lingered longer than it should have. He was right to be cautious. They all were.
Behind the fenced area came the barking of dogs. Heart rammed into his throat, he looked toward the broad gate marked Training Yard. “Training?”
“Yes,” Khouri said as he motioned and started walking. “The ranch is a training facility for working dogs.”
“Hey.” Cardinal glanced to the side where Aspen walked with them. “Austin’s dog—whatever happened to him after…?”
Aspen’s expression fell, but she crammed a smile into place.
Cardinal felt like a jerk for asking the question he knew must twist that dagger in her heart, but he shoved aside the feeling.
“He’s here.” Aspen opened the gate. “I adopted him after Austin went missing.”
“I…I thought dogs were—” He cut off his words but knew she’d understand where he was going.
“A new law protects the dogs. They’re currently classified as equipment, so I had to pay to bring him home once they wrote him off, but it was worth it.” Aspen stepped into the training yard and strode toward the center.
A yellow Lab lumbered toward her, ball in mouth.
“Two months ago,” Daniels said, “Talon wouldn’t lift his head to even look at her.”
“Seriously?” Cardinal watched the handler and dog. “What was his problem?”
“PTSD.” Daniels’s gaze locked on to him. “So, you were with him in Al-Najaf.”
Cardinal feigned distraction with the dog. Maybe the woman. She had confidence yet a brokenness that felt familiar. He met Daniels head-on. “Oh. No, Kariz-e Sefid. That’s where I worked with Court.” Had he noticed Khouri limping? “That patrol, the bombs—it wiped out my career. Put me flat on my back for two months.”
“With what?” Relentless, Daniels tucked his arms under his armpits, gauging, monitoring. There was a reason he’d been a Green Beret.
“Broken back. TBI. PTSD.”
“You have no noticeable scars.”
“It’s the invisible ones that get you.” Cardinal needed to extract himself from this interrogation. “Excuse me.”
Had Daniels figured things out? He’d never been unraveled that fast. And he doubted it’d happened already here, but there was no time like now to put distance between him and the man who’d dig deep enough to find some holes.
Another dog bounded toward them. Lowered her front and tipped up her tail, snarling at him. Cardinal reached out a hand to try to show her he was her friend.
She snapped.
“Trinity, out!” Daniels looked at him and shrugged. “She’s protective. So am I.”
Something wet nudged his hand. He glanced down to find the Lab sniffing his hand. And prayed hard his plan worked.
To his relief, Talon sat at his feet and stared down the obstacle course.
Wide-eyed, Aspen gawked. “He knows you.”
“You sound
Aspen’s white SUV aimed toward a fenced-in area away from the house. Already her door opened by the time he pulled up alongside. He slid the gear into P ARK , eyes on the rearview mirror. Well-muscled, sporting a Glock holstered to his thigh, a former Army grunt, if he ever saw one, approached.
Cardinal stretched his jaw and snagged the bandana from the glove compartment. He climbed out, sizing up the competition who gave Aspen a warm familiar hug.
“How’s he doing?” she asked.
“Fine. Trin’s got him on his toes.”
Aspen laughed.
The man shifted and extended a hand. “Heath Daniels.” Though the words were friendly, his posture was not. The man had territory issues.
Take it slow
. “Dane Markoski.”
Aspen motioned to him. “Dane was on the news—you might have seen him.”
Daniels nodded. “Mr. Markoski.”
“Oh, and this is Jibril Khouri.” Aspen turned, brushing a blond curl from her face. “He owns the ranch.”
Cardinal shook the man’s hand. “The land is beautiful.”
“I couldn’t agree more.” Khouri’s gaze lingered longer than it should have. He was right to be cautious. They all were.
Behind the fenced area came the barking of dogs. Heart rammed into his throat, he looked toward the broad gate marked Training Yard. “Training?”
“Yes,” Khouri said as he motioned and started walking. “The ranch is a training facility for working dogs.”
“Hey.” Cardinal glanced to the side where Aspen walked with them. “Austin’s dog—whatever happened to him after…?”
Aspen’s expression fell, but she crammed a smile into place.
Cardinal felt like a jerk for asking the question he knew must twist that dagger in her heart, but he shoved aside the feeling.
“He’s here.” Aspen opened the gate. “I adopted him after Austin went missing.”
“I…I thought dogs were—” He cut off his words but knew she’d understand where he was going.
“A new law protects the dogs. They’re currently classified as equipment, so I had to pay to bring him home once they wrote him off, but it was worth it.” Aspen stepped into the training yard and strode toward the center.
A yellow Lab lumbered toward her, ball in mouth.
“Two months ago,” Daniels said, “Talon wouldn’t lift his head to even look at her.”
“Seriously?” Cardinal watched the handler and dog. “What was his problem?”
“PTSD.” Daniels’s gaze locked on to him. “So, you were with him in Al-Najaf.”
Cardinal feigned distraction with the dog. Maybe the woman. She had confidence yet a brokenness that felt familiar. He met Daniels head-on. “Oh. No, Kariz-e Sefid. That’s where I worked with Court.” Had he noticed Khouri limping? “That patrol, the bombs—it wiped out my career. Put me flat on my back for two months.”
“With what?” Relentless, Daniels tucked his arms under his armpits, gauging, monitoring. There was a reason he’d been a Green Beret.
“Broken back. TBI. PTSD.”
“You have no noticeable scars.”
“It’s the invisible ones that get you.” Cardinal needed to extract himself from this interrogation. “Excuse me.”
Had Daniels figured things out? He’d never been unraveled that fast. And he doubted it’d happened already here, but there was no time like now to put distance between him and the man who’d dig deep enough to find some holes.
Another dog bounded toward them. Lowered her front and tipped up her tail, snarling at him. Cardinal reached out a hand to try to show her he was her friend.
She snapped.
“Trinity, out!” Daniels looked at him and shrugged. “She’s protective. So am I.”
Something wet nudged his hand. He glanced down to find the Lab sniffing his hand. And prayed hard his plan worked.
To his relief, Talon sat at his feet and stared down the obstacle course.
Wide-eyed, Aspen gawked. “He knows you.”
“You sound
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