Collared (Going to the Dogs) Read online

  Collared

  Going to the Dogs, #4

  By Zoe Dawson

  Blue Moon Creative, LLC

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright by Karen Alarie. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever. The author acknowledges the copyrighted or trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction: Donna Karan, Jimmy Choo, Mercedes, Toyota, Kermit the Frog, Gonzo, Fozzie, Blue Curaçao, BMX, Waldorf Astoria, Metropolitan Opera House, Glenlivet, Columbia University, University of Hawaii.

  License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your preferred vendor and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Author Note

  I make every effort to research thoroughly all subject matter, but I’m not infallible. If you find anything in my novels that I have incorrect, please feel free to let me know.

  ISBN: 978-0-9884188-3-7

  Find Zoe Dawson on the web!

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  Cover Design by Robin Ludwig Designs, Inc.

  http://www.gobookcoverdesign.com

  Acknowledgments

  I'd like to thank Barbara Robyor and Sue Stewart for all their many, many sessions of reading this book over and over again. Thank you, also, to Faith Freewoman for her excellent advice and editing skills. A big thank you also to Robin Ludwig for her fabulous cover design.

  Dedication

  To all the dog and romance lovers who have supported me through this series. Thank you for reading and loving my dog park babes! I love you all.

  Chapter One

  “Welcome home, Miss Harper,” housekeeper Juliana Mendoza said with her slight Hispanic accent as she took Harper’s purse and keys from her and set them on the table in the foyer. “Did you enjoy the wedding?”

  Harper grinned. “It was a complete disaster,” adding, when she saw Juliana’s dismay, “and it was just perfect. Very Poe and Jared, from beginning to end.” Harper had left abruptly for the impromptu Vegas wedding.

  She looked around, frowning slightly. “Where is Blue?” Normally her poodle would have been clamoring to see her even before Juliana opened the door.

  “I saw her carry her bone toward the balcony before I drove Mrs. Crumb to the market on our scheduled weekly trip. We were gone about an hour. We just got back right before you arrived. She’s probably still there. Would you like a snack? Mrs. Crumb got some delicious Havarti. She knows how much you love it. She’d be happy to make it up with some crackers and fruit.”

  “Yes, thank you.”

  Juliana disappeared toward the back of the penthouse

  Harper looked around again for Blue. Where was she? She felt a faint prickling along the back of her neck. Her champion poodle always made a big fuss over Harper when she came home from a trip, wiggling and woofing softly, doing a happy dance with her silly top-knot bobbing, before racing off to fetch her leash.

  Heart thumping with alarm, Harper called out to her, and when she didn’t come, she began to search for her precious girl. Blue loved the balcony and pretty much had free run of the house.

  Harper’s heart started to pound when she saw the patio had been trashed. She looked toward the library and her heart leapt into her throat when she saw the door ajar.

  She raced toward the open door and could see the wall safe painting hanging open, as well as the safe. Panic climbed into her throat and she backed up. That’s when she saw Blue near the corner of the balcony. She was lying on her side and not moving. Harper ran to her with her heart in her throat. When she touched Blue, she breathed a sigh of relief, finding her warm and breathing. There were no marks on her, either. Had she been drugged?

  “Juliana!” Harper called, scooping up the 60-pound poodle with a little stagger. She bolted for the interior of the penthouse.

  “Yes, Miss Harper! What is it?” When she saw the unconscious dog, she gasped, her beautiful dark eyes wide with horror. “What has happened?!”

  “I think she’s been drugged, and we’ve definitely been robbed. Hurry, get out. They might still be here.” She herded her housekeeper toward the penthouse door. “Where is Mr. Stevens?”

  “I believe he’s bringing up your bags.”

  Harper said, “Grab my purse.” She set Blue down gently near the elevator and dug for her cell phone. “Oh, God. Mrs. Crumb!”

  “Dios mio! Yes, She’s in the kitchen.”

  “Okay, run and get Mr. Stevens. Hurry!”

  As Juliana took off, she knelt down and checked Blue again.

  As soon as her chauffeur, Jeffrey Stevens, came back, she briefed him quickly and said, “Go into the kitchen and get Mrs. Crumb out, then meet me down in the parking garage. I’ve got to get Blue to a vet.”

  He nodded.

  “Juliana, here is my cell phone. Look for Tripp McDonald in my contacts and call him. He’s the NYPD commissioner. He’ll know what to do.”

  Harper picked up Blue again and headed for the elevator and the vet.

  Two hours later, she returned to the penthouse. Blue was walking on her own and seemed her usual cheerful, sweet self. The vet said she hadn’t been harmed at all and shouldn’t have any residual effects.

  Harper hadn’t even noticed that Blue’s $50,000 diamond collar was missing until they were back in the limo. How exasperating.

  Really the only one who would be upset by the loss of Blue’s ridiculously expensive diamond extravaganza of a collar, would be her grandmother who had given it to Blue. At least it explained why the thieves had drugged her dog.

  Juliana met her at the door, announced that everyone had finished “poking around the crime scene,” and added, “Commissioner McDonald was here, but then he left. He said to call him if you need to, but he’s going to assign his best detectives to the case. You look like you could use a nice bath and a meal. Shall I draw you a bath?”

  “No, Blue is feeling quite rambunctious.” Harper breathed a sigh of relief. “I’m going to take her for a swim. I could use the exercise, too. Afterwards, I think I’ll do some yoga on the balcony, and then I’ll have my bath. I’m meeting friends at FLASH tonight, Mrs. Crumb already knows and I told her to go home.”

  She went down to the pool and they had a nice swim, with Blue doing laps right beside her. Afterwards, she went to the balcony and Blue joined her. When Harper went through some of her yoga moves, Blue watched carefully and lifted her paws occasionally. Harper giggled. She would have to teach her Downward Facing Dog some time.

  As she continued with her yoga and laughed at Blue’s antics, she realized she was very relieved that Tripp hadn’t stuck around. She was well aware that the man wanted more, but she also knew he was nothing but a gold digger. That made her feel glum.

  She couldn’t help remembering that day they’d all been discussing the wedding around the hotel pool in Vegas, while the men had played chicken. When Brooke had glanced over where Drew was hanging onto the side of the pool laughing his head off at the antics of all the chicken players as they vied for supremacy, her heart hurt.
The way Brooke’s face had softened, and for one tiny moment Harper was actually jealous. Jealous of all of them. With all the bounty that she had in her life, how could she be envious?

  Well, because they’d all found deep, abiding love…and Harper wanted that for herself, but she wasn’t sure she could ever fully trust any man. Tripp was a perfect example. Her money was always going to be an attraction, and even though the men in her circle were all so polished, a lot of them were fortune seekers. Besides, they were also just too tame. She didn’t really want tame.

  She smiled remembering how Poe’s wedding day turned out to be so beautiful, but, of course, it wouldn’t be Poe’s wedding if it hadn’t been zany.

  When the moment came for Poe and Jared to say their vows, tears gathered in Harper’s eyes and, although she was very, very happy for Poe and Jared, she felt terribly lonely, a hollow sensation that made her feel just a little lost.

  It made her impatient with herself. She had everything in the world she could ever want. Wonderful friends, a solid and loving family, more money than she could ever spend. Although in terms of relationships, the money was actually more a deterrent than it was a boon. Finding a man who fit into her world and wasn’t a gold-digger had been impossible so far.

  She’d looked at Callie and Owen as they exchanged loving gazes, their day only weeks off, and Brooke and Drew…such a rocky start to their relationship, but he’d proven to be a true hero. And Poe and Jared—wow! with a baby on the way. She looked radiant in her perfectly Poe gown.

  At the wedding, she had gotten rugged and raw from Nate Taylor. A purely sexual fling with Jared’s brother. She didn’t feel guilty at all. He was lonely. She was lonely and they indulged themselves in sex for a few hours.

  She’d found him attractive, but like any man she considered getting to know better, she had to wonder if it had been her smile or her money that enticed him. That was cynical, and she hated that she had to think those thoughts, but a woman in her position couldn’t let her guard down. Ever. And she despaired of ever finding someone she could trust as completely as she would need to in order to allow love to grow. Finding a man in her circle she could trust enough to let down her barriers seemed like an impossible dream.

  She had frequently been thrown together with Nate all the past week since they were both unattached. She’d had lunch with him, and he’d told her he was still in love with his ex-girlfriend. She was sorry for him—unrequited love was the worst. But it also made her thoughts about having hot and sweaty sex with him intensify. It would certainly be a no strings attached hook-up. And that’s all Harper had wanted. And that is what she got.

  Hooking up with Nate hadn’t been a bad idea. It had been good. Nate was good in bed. Maybe Harper would just have to settle for good sex.

  After folding down on the mat, she finally felt like she had gained a measure of peace.

  #

  “Shaw!”

  “Lieutenant Samson?” Caleb Shaw said into his cell phone while absently petting Quinn, a beat-up old former police dog Caleb had adopted when the canine had been retired from the force. The animal was across his lap and hadn’t let him out of his sight since he’d come home from the hospital. Those brown eyes seemed to carry the weight of the world in them as he glanced soulfully at Caleb. He’d obviously been worried about his owner, and it showed in the way he stayed glued to Caleb’s side, trailing after him everywhere.

  That gruff voice on Caleb’s cell phone bellowed, “Get your ass back in here.”

  “Haven’t you retired yet, old man?”

  “No, you son of a bitch! I’m still thinking about it.” He chuckled. “I need you on a case.”

  “You forced my ass to recover for another damn week. What’s changed?” He shifted his sore shoulder, still recovering from having a slug removed, and settled back against the cushions of his comfortable couch.

  “Tripp McDonald.”

  Caleb felt a headache coming on. “What does that ladder-climbing blowhard want?”

  The Lieutenant sighed. “The commissioner has his panties in a twist over some socialite robbery. Some dog’s collar was stolen.”

  “Dog collar?” Yup, that headache was cranking up and getting ready to explode. “Seriously, you pulling me in for a freaking dog collar?”

  “There’s more to it than that. But yes, I’m pulling you in. You’re the best we have.”

  “Gee, thanks. Warms the cockles of my heart.”

  “Tell me now if you’re not up to it and I’ll get Shane started on it.”

  “Yes, I have been fit for duty since last week. Dembowsky couldn’t find his ass in the dark with both hands without me.”

  His lieutenant laughed. “I’ll let your partner know that. You sure about this?”

  “I could get a note from my doctor and my mommy if that helps.”

  “Don’t be a smartass.”

  “Can’t help it, it’s genetic.” The natural outcome of being an Italian kid growing up on Arthur Street in the Bronx and helping with his family’s Italian restaurant. Every tough guy had to have an attitude. “Look, Lieutenant, I’m going crazy here and it was just a bullet to the shoulder. I’m recovered…mostly. I’ll even take on some snooty socialite and her freaking missing dog collar. How taxing can that be? I promise to use my brain and not my shoulder. At least I won’t have to sit around doing nothing.”

  “Okay, wise guy, get your ass over to Sinclair Towers.” Caleb wrote down the address his boss gave him.

  Minutes later, stepping in the shower, Caleb shook his head. A freaking socialite. She was probably a stuck-up bitch and even talking to him would be beneath her. He knew from experience all about how they treated people. In fact, his learning experience had been up close and personal, but getting back to work, even if it was for a damn dog collar, was worth it. He reached for the shampoo, his shoulder twinging slightly. He rubbed at it briefly before snagging the plastic bottle and squeezing a dollop into his hand.

  As he stood scrubbing shampoo into his scalp, memories of that summer in the Hamptons flashed by like a slide show. He’d gotten his sixteen-year-old heart twisted into a pretzel and stomped on. It’d happened more than a decade ago, and he’d never been that naïve again…or that vulnerable. Probably why he was alone, with no one but a beat-up old retired German Shepherd police dog for company. A cold nose against his thigh made him jolt and he looked down to see Quinn gazing up at him with his deep brown eyes.

  Ah, damn, he forgot to shut the bathroom door. Quinn loved the water too much. And always turned it into a sloppy mess. “No, you silly dog, it’s not time for a bath.”

  But Quinn had other plans. He nosed the shower curtain aside, and, before Caleb could stop him, jumped into the tub.

  “Shit! No, Quinn!”

  The slippery porcelain provided little traction for the Shepherd’s paws and he slid right into Caleb, who totally lost his balance and grabbed for anything that might keep him upright. Soap dripped into his eye, and the stinging sensation made him cuss more. He snagged the shower curtain, but it wasn’t enough to hold up a muscular, six-two, 230-pound man and a water-crazy dog. The plastic tore away from the rings holding it to the pole, and the shower curtain and Caleb came crashing down, landing in a tangled heap as water went flying everywhere. Wrenching his sore shoulder, and probably getting a number of bruises, with at least one to his ego, Caleb regained his slippery balance. He gave Quinn a disgusted look as the Shepherd sat in the shower spray and made a contented noise in the back of his throat before licking Caleb’s face.

  After getting the soaking wet dog and his naked self out of the tub, rinsing the shampoo out of his eye, wiping down the dog, getting the water mopped up and rigging the shower curtain so he could finally finish his shower, and then making himself presentable for his throne room appearance, Caleb arrived at Sinclair Towers. It took him fifteen minutes and flashing his shield to get entrance to her royal highness’s penthouse. He rang the bell, and it chimed like these people had Big
Ben in there somewhere.

  “Geezus,” he muttered.

  When the door opened, the breath left his body, as if the woman standing there had sucked out all the oxygen in a fifty-mile radius.

  Her honey blonde hair was piled into a ponytail on the top of her head, but a lot of silky swaths had tumbled back down, giving her a mussed-up, just-out-of-bed look. She wore a white tank top that left her creamy shoulders bare and clung to her torso like a second skin, and a pair of black stretchy pants that molded themselves to the lower half of her body’s gorgeous curves. Her face was classically beautiful, but there was something that ruined it in her eyes, something decidedly rebellious, and he found that he liked that immensely. Her eyes were a saturated blue that he worried would suck him in if he looked at her too long.

  Wow, they weren’t making maids like they used to.

  “I’m here to see the lady of the manor about a breakin and robbery. Could you let her know I’m here?” Okay, so he might have said “lady of the manor,” with a sarcastic slant to his words. Hopefully the beauty hadn’t caught that. He couldn’t believe he was at a freaking penthouse to find a freaking collar for a freaking pampered poodle. Odds were good that’s exactly the type of dog she had.

  When it came trotting into the room only moments later, he snorted. Ha! Got it in one.

  The woman smiled. “Certainly, and you are?”

  “Detective Caleb Shaw, NYPD Robbery Division” He moved aside his suit jacket to show his shield.

  She stepped aside to let him pass and the scent of her perfume floated on the air. He breathed it in, and then looked at her again as she shut the door. It smelled expensive.

  The poodle made a beeline for him without stopping. It plowed into him, the dog’s paws going to his chest and knocking him back into the door, triggering a dull ache in his shoulder.

  “Blue!” The beautiful maid said, grabbing the dog and forcing her to sit. “I’m so sorry, she never acts like this.”