Zane Read online

  ZANE

  The K9 Files, Book 3

  Dale Mayer

  Books in This Series:

  Ethan, Book 1

  Pierce, Book 2

  Zane, Book 3

  Blaze, Book 4

  Lucas, Book 5

  Parker, Book 6

  Carter, Book 7

  Table of Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  About This Book

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Epilogue

  About Blaze

  Author’s Note

  Complimentary Download

  About the Author

  Copyright Page

  About This Book

  Going home wasn’t part of his plan …

  Agreeing to travel home to Maine to hunt down Ketch, a K9 dog the system had lost track of, wasn’t an easy decision for Zane. It meant facing his drunk of a father, his cold older brother and, worst of all, Angela, his kid brother’s widow—who used to be his girlfriend.

  Finding Ketch looked to be the easiest part of this dysfunctional homecoming. Only he wasn’t the only one hunting Ketch.

  Angela has been through a whirlwind of emotions in the last few years. But the good thing in all of this was the hope that Zane would finally come home again. They had a history to clear up and a future to forge … she hoped.

  A call for help brings the injured shepherd to Angela’s doorstep, plus a hunter looking to finish what he started. All thoughts of a future with Zane are threatened now and forever as the hunter decides two-legged prey are just as good as four-legged ones.

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  Prologue

  Even as Pierce stared in disbelief as the votes came in—giving him the job of the sheriff in Arrowhead, Colorado—back in New Mexico, Zane Carmichael sat down at Badger’s desk and said, “I hear searching for some dogs is going on.”

  Badger shifted back in his chair, steepled his fingers and studied Zane. “Do you have any K9 experience?”

  “No,” he said. “Artillery IEDs, all kinds of military experience, but nothing with dogs. On the other hand, I was raised with them, and I’d say I have a talent for them too.”

  Badger’s eyebrows pulled together. “Tell me more.”

  “Animals of all kinds speak to me,” he said. “It’s just easier for me than for a lot of people. I’ve had basic dog obedience training but not the high-level training of K9 handlers.”

  “Here’s what we’ve got so far,” Badger said and spent ten minutes sorting through what they’d done to date.

  “I know Ethan and Pierce both had K9 training,” Zane said. “I’d like to try though.”

  “We have ten dogs left to locate,” Badger said. “The top of the pack was lost at the airport in Bangor, Maine. His last confirmed location was Stetson, Maine.”

  “Stetson?” Zane frowned. “How about any other place but there?”

  “Why is that?”

  “I’ve got family back in Maine, just outside of Corinna,” he said. “Holly, my younger brother’s widow, is somebody I’m trying to avoid.”

  “Why?” Badger asked.

  Zane gave him a lopsided glance. “I cared too much. Brody’s widow was my ex-girlfriend. After my baby brother passed away, I went home for the funeral but left as soon as I could. Holly was leaning on me too much, as if wanting me to step into my brother’s shoes, and that was the last thing I wanted,” Zane said bluntly. “I’d like to be loved for myself, not because I’m a reflection of another man.”

  “Wow,” Badger said. “Sounds like you need to get back to Maine then. And … Gunner gave Titanium Corp a sizable donation, particularly to fund the War Dogs searches. So your expenses will all be covered.” He picked up the file. “I’ve got a younger male here called Katch.” He frowned at the name. “He’s well-known for his ability to catch, apparently.” He studied the first page. “He was sent home after not following commands well enough under fire. He ended up with PTSD after one particularly bad bombing, and they couldn’t get him to function properly afterward. He was returned to a training compound, then shipped out to an adopted family. He was lost at the airport, and the adopted family never got him. He showed up in Bangor, and we were alerted, but nobody could catch him. Our last notification said he was picked up by a hunter. Considering Katch is suffering from PTSD, that could be problematic. Now we’re not sure where he is. Last known sighting was Stetson.”

  “Dammit.” Zane studied the stack of files. “You sure you don’t want to give me one of the others—a long way away from Maine?”

  “Just for that reason alone,” Badger said, leaning forward, “sounds to me like Maine it is. If you’re ready …” He picked up the file and tossed it at him. “Katch.”

  Chapter 1

  “Maine?” Zane shuddered and sank deeper into his airline seat. “Why couldn’t it be anywhere else but Maine?”

  The old lady beside him twittered. “Maine is a lovely place. I don’t know what you have against it,” she quietly sang out in her light birdlike voice. “I can’t wait to get home.”

  He cast her a sideways glance and gave her a goofy grin. “I’m from Maine, so it’s all good.”

  “No, it’s not,” she said. “For whatever reason, you’re having trouble with the idea. And you should let it go, young man. Life’s too short to worry about everything, and going to Maine is definitely not one of the things you should worry about.”

  “It’s just that I’ll have to face some people I don’t really want to face,” he tried to explain. “Well, one in particular. One who I used to really like, and I’m hoping I don’t anymore.”

  She looked at him in confusion, then a crafty gleam entered her eyes. “Ah, a girlfriend? Sounds like maybe it’s time to go back and to make peace with yourself. You can’t go forward if you have baggage holding you back.”

  He chuckled. “Don’t you worry. I can handle it.”

  “Hogwash,” she retorted. “I might be old, but I’m not senile. And the young always think they have all the answers. Instead they just keep shoving away the questions and never getting to the real answers.” She settled back into her seat, raising her book to eye level.

  He looked at the cover and grinned because it was a romance novel. To him it was incongruous, and yet, there was no reason for her either to not have her own romance or to take pleasure in reading about someone else’s romance. When had he become scared of romance? Likely when his ex-girlfriend had married his kid brother.

  He stared out the window, realizing they’d descend soon. He pulled out his phone and checked for messages. Before heading to his last connecting flight, he’d sent yet another text to Badger. Seriously, a one-way ticket to Maine?

  Badger’s response had been instant. Absolutely. Maine for you.

  So Zane was heading to Bangor first, then driving toward Stetson, which was the last known point where the dog Katch had been picked up by a hunter. Although, in the last few days, it was possible the hunter no longer had the dog. Its whereabouts after that were unknown. Zane’s hometown of Newport was close enough to use as a base. Zane said aloud, “Maybe the dog is happy there.”

  “You better not be talking about a girlfriend,” the old lady warned in that birdlike voice. “That’s no way to talk about a young lady.”

  “I’m talking about a dog,” he explained. “I’m tracking down a War Dog who served in Afghanistan but the
n ended up with PTSD after too many bombings.”

  “Why do you think he’s in trouble?”

  “Because we got a notice that the dog had potentially hooked up with a hunter.”

  The woman frowned at him. “I don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.”

  “Exactly,” he said. “Honestly, I’m expecting this to be a quick visit. Check to make sure it’s the same dog, make sure the hunter knows we keep track of these dogs and make sure he’ll give the dog a good life, that he’s healthy and well-adjusted because PTSD isn’t anything for anybody to laugh about.”

  She stared at him. Then, as if the tumblers in her brain went click, she said, “But, if the dog’s got PTSD, he shouldn’t be out with a hunter,” she exclaimed. “That would be the worst place for him.”

  “Which is one of the reasons I’m checking on him,” he explained gently. He didn’t have any clue what he was supposed to do beyond that. Maybe take the retired War Dog to one of the training complexes, like the one in Kentucky. They might have answers for Katch—or at least suggestions. Zane shrugged his shoulders irritably. “Outside of a Good Samaritan trip, I’m not sure why I’m coming to Maine.”

  “You’re coming to Maine because you need to,” she said. “Beyond that, it’s up to you.” And on that note she went back to her book and stayed quiet for the rest of the trip.

  Zane got off the airplane, walked through the terminal and stood outside, smiling because, really, he loved his hometown. He’d always enjoyed this area. He needed to get his rental vehicle and maybe stop in at his older brother’s place. That would be the one person Zane wanted to see. Although he doubted his brother would care. His dad was still around too, but that had never been an easy relationship. His father, already a difficult man, became an ugly drunk after his mother’s death. The three brothers had been subjected to steady abuse while growing up.

  Zane was hoping bygones could be bygones, and maybe, with any luck, his father might have eased back on the alcohol. Zane hadn’t left under a cloud. In fact, he’d left for the military. But, after his younger brother Brody’s death, the family dynamics had been even harder. His father had made it clear that the wrong son had died. … As it was, Zane’s life had blown up not a year later, and he’d been medically discharged himself. But at least he was still alive.

  Then, when his baby brother’s widow, Holly, who was also Zane’s ex-girlfriend, had turned to him for comfort, things had gotten worse. He’d walked away from that real fast. Even now he couldn’t understand all the ins and outs of his emotional state at that time. Except the biggest one had been guilt. He felt so damn guilty that his baby brother had died and that Zane was still alive.

  Brody had been a hell of a guy—a homebody, happy to stay in this little town working at the local school, crafty with his hands, one of those all-round family-type guys. Brody had been the gym teacher and the health science teacher and an assistant coach as needed, depending on how many prospects were interested in playing football or baseball. In such a small school, there weren’t many athletic students, so forming teams led to logistical problems. But Brody loved it.

  Zane had understood when Holly had hooked up with Brody, after breaking up with Zane, but it had still hurt. Seeing the two of them together had just reinforced the rightness of his decision to leave for the military. And, every time he came back, it had eased a little bit more.

  But the last trip home had been for his baby brother’s funeral. And Holly had expected Zane to step in and to help her out, but he couldn’t. It wasn’t fair to drop it on Butch, but his eldest brother had been the roughneck of the family—capable, dogged and determined to handle everything in life. He was so like their father and so determined to not be their father that he’d stepped forward without a comment and had handled the funeral arrangements easily. Zane had stayed to the end, then caught the first flight back out again. His compassionate leave was up anyway, but he wouldn’t have stayed and wouldn’t have asked for an extension. It had just been too damn awkward. His heart hurt; his father was angry. Holly was devastated, and Zane couldn’t help but think that maybe there was hope for him again with Holly.

  And that had just added to the guilt. He’d raced away as fast as he could, which didn’t say much for who he was.

  He signed off on the airport’s rental agreement for a pickup, walked out to the parking lot and hit the beeper on his key fob to find the right vehicle.

  He checked his cell phone before he started the double-cab truck, found a text from his brother.

  If you get in town on time, come for dinner.

  He hit Dial as he pulled out onto the main road. When his brother answered, he said, “Hey, Butch. It’s me, Zane. Just leaving. I’ll be at your place in maybe forty minutes.”

  “See you then,” his brother answered in his deep voice. And he hung up.

  Zane tossed his phone on the seat beside him. That was so damn typical of his brother. Minimal words, minimal emotion. Unless he had a drink in his hand.

  Zane sure hoped Butch hadn’t followed in their father’s footsteps. They’d had enough trouble with their drunken father throughout the years. Zane would not like to see that be Butch’s end too.

  The drive was pleasant enough. He smiled as he passed markers that brought back memories. The path to the lake they used to take every day in the summer—he could even see the small island in the middle that they used to swim out to. He drove past the corner store, then on past the only school in the area. He chuckled, remembering what it had been like going to school in a small town like this. They’d known everyone. Everyone had known each other, and every relationship had been public knowledge. It had been both great and disturbing.

  By the time he pulled into his brother’s driveway, he was more than ready for a chance to meet up with everyone and to sit down to have a hot meal.

  His brother’s driveway was long, lined with bushes and rutted, always rutted. As if his brother figured anybody without a pickup didn’t belong. Zane drove carefully in the weird half-light, trying not to bounce the rental around too much.

  By the time he got to the log house, the lights from within warmed his heart. He pulled up, noted his brother’s new truck—a great big black F-250 diesel—and whistled. “All the bells and whistles on this one,” he said out loud. His older brother, the long-haul trucker, loved the big-ass vehicles. Zane left his overnight bag and jean jacket inside his rented pickup, locked up and headed to the front step. Midway he stopped and frowned. Maybe the secret to Butch and Sandra’s marriage has been all that time apart. Zane blew out a long exhale. Didn’t work for me and Holly.

  The door opened. There was Butch.

  Zane pointed at his brother’s truck. “Nice ride.”

  “Yep,” Butch said with a shrug, motioning for his brother to come in before turning, leaving the door wide open.

  And that was as much of a greeting as Zane would ever get.

  Inside, Zane was not surprised to see Sandra sitting at the dining table, waiting for him. He gave her a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek. He really liked her but didn’t know how she stood his brother, even for short periods of time. But, hey, that was what family was all about, trying to love them in spite of themselves, even when they weren’t likeable. She bounced up to serve dinner.

  “I’m sorry I delayed your dinner,” Zane said. “You didn’t have to wait for me.”

  “I wasn’t going to,” Butch said, “but Sandra insisted.”

  Zane smiled up at his sister-in-law as she gave him a great big bowl of hearty stew. “Thanks very much, Sandra.”

  “You’re more than welcome,” she said firmly. “It’s really good to see you.”

  “Yeah, and I wonder why you’re here,” Butch said. “A little short on the messages, aren’t you?”

  “You’re a fine one to talk,” Zane said. “I told you that I was coming, and you gave me a very short answer yourself.”

  “I figured we’d have time to talk while you wer
e here,” Butch said, “unless you’re not sticking around for long again.”

  Butch made it sound like that was a habit of Zane’s. And, true enough, when Zane was on leave, he couldn’t stick around very long, and he’d been in the military for a lot of years—seven before he was medically moved out. Medical discharge, they called it. He shook his head, taking his first bite of stew, then swallowing. “That’s what life in the military is like.”

  “But you haven’t been in the military for almost a year now,” Butch said. “This is the first time you’ve come home.”

  “I almost didn’t come this time,” Zane said quietly. He took another taste of the stew and smiled. “You’re as good a cook as ever, Sandra.”

  She beamed at him. “Are you okay?” she asked. “We heard you were medically discharged.”

  “I was,” he said. “Spent some time in the hospital, spent some time in rehab and, of course, then spent some time getting back to the world. Life in the military doesn’t prepare you for returning to civilian life.”

  Her face flushed with a worried frown.

  He reached across the table and patted her hand. “I’m fine now.”

  “Are you working?” Butch asked.

  “More or less. I’m doing a job for Titanium Corp out of Santa Fe,” he murmured.

  No way anybody here in this corner of the woods would know Badger and his group, so they wouldn’t understand that Titanium Corp was really an umbrella company for helping vets do whatever they needed to do. Zane still thought Badger was wrong when he decided that Zane needed to come to Maine. Surely he could have done something else. But, as he enjoyed the stew in front of him, he realized the trip wasn’t all bad. As a matter of fact, it was pretty darn good at the moment.

  “Did the job bring you home?” his brother asked abruptly.

  Zane thought about his answer and realized maybe Butch would know where this dog could be. “I’m after a dog,” he said.