Page 14 of Unseen Danger
A whiff of coffee jerked her gaze to Cora.
The lovely blonde held out Nevaeh’s favorite mug, molded and painted in the shape of a rottweiler’s head. Steam curled off the surface of the liquid inside, but it was the fabulous smell that made her mouth water. They didn’t usually have flavored coffee in the breakroom. “Caramel?”
Cora’s smile grew. “I wanted to give you something extra special since you saved a man’s life yesterday.” The expression in her soft blue eyes turned more serious. “We’re so proud of you and thankful God gave you the courage to do what you did.”
The courage. How much did Cora know? The PK-9 team members all knew something was off with Nevaeh. They had to. They’d been in enough situations together to have noticed Nevaeh had…issues sometimes. That she could get shaky. And, of course, they all saw her bring Cannenta to meetings and other places when she wasn’t on duty with Alvarez.
She looked down at the thirty-pound corgi mix who sat quietly on the floor by her foot. The PTSD service dog was a dead giveaway to everyone that Nevaeh wasn’t the same as they were. That she had a weakness.
But they probably didn’t know why, thanks to Phoenix’s rule that the private details of their pasts remained secret to all but her unless they voluntarily shared the stories themselves. Though as the office manager and technologies specialist, Cora probably had access to all their files.
And Cora had been there from the beginning, the only one already working for Phoenix at the agency when Nevaeh came on board. Nevaeh had been such a mess back then, Cora probably couldn’t have missed the obvious signs of PTSD.
“Nevaeh? Did I remember wrong?” Poor Cora still held the mug, her smile faltering.
“Nah, it’s great.” Nevaeh snatched the mug so fast the coffee nearly sloshed over the edge. She held the brew to her nose where she could get the full body of caramel coffee aroma. A naturally induced grin lifted her spirits. “Food and drink have always been the way to my affections.” She winked at Cora. “Thanks, girl.”
“Of course. I’m thankful you’re okay, and that the man you saved is, too.”
“Have you heard any updates?” Jazz asked the question from the love seat where she sat.
“Updates on what? The caterers?” Bristol Jones rushed into the room with enough force to create a breeze, probably because she was just under the wire for the meeting’s start time of eight a.m. “Hey, everyone.” She flashed a smile at Nevaeh and Cora, then swung her gaze to include all the women in the room.
A black blur darted past her. Nevaeh’s eyes followed long enough to ID the phantom as Toby, the energetic black Labrador that took playing with Raksa as seriously as he took his explosive detection work. He and Sofia’s German shepherd protection K-9 wagged their tails vigorously as they smelled each other near the air-conditioning vent that they hadn’t figured out wasn’t providing cool air anymore. Flash, though Jazz had let him off leash, hung back and watched the two buddies.
“Welcome.” Cora smiled at Bristol. “No, I’m still looking for a different caterer, I’m afraid. My father decided they weren’t suitable for our wedding and canceled the booking.”
“Because they catered his competitor’s company banquet?”
Cora raised one skinny shoulder slightly at Bristol’s question. “At least he’s agreed to let me select the caterer now. The trouble is most of the reputable options are booked or unable to handle a wedding of this size.”
“Should’ve gone small like Michael and I did.” Sof grinned at Cora. “In and out without a fuss. No caterers or headaches.” She held up a finger like she wanted to mark the most important thing. “And no fittings.”
Nevaeh snorted. “Yeah, like Cora’s the type to elope.”
“We did not elope.” Humor twinkled in Sof’s eyes. “You were all there, along with my parents and the pastor.”
“And Grace.” Cora tilted her head as her features melted to mush. “She was so darling in that little pantsuit.”
Sof chuckled. “Couldn’t get the girl to wear a dress any more than me.”
“Which reminds me…” Cora glanced at Nevaeh, then swung her gaze to include Bristol and Jazz. “All the adjustments have been made to your dresses, so you can pick them up whenever you like.”
At least that meant the fittings were done. Never enjoyed all that playing dress-up, which was probably exactly why Sof refused to be a bridesmaid. But it was sweet of Cora to ask Nevaeh and especially Jazz since she hadn’t been with the team a year yet.
It probably would’ve been easier to stick with having only Bristol as maid of honor given that Kent’s brother, his best man, was his only living relative. But because Cora wanted more of the PK-9 team in her wedding party, Kent had recruited Remington and Michael to be groomsmen. She’d heard from Cora that the PK-9 husbands were becoming friends anyway.
“But enough about the wedding.” Cora pressed her hands together in front of her smile like she’d secretly love to keep chatting about her big event. “To answer Jazz’s original question, I did receive an update about the man whose life Nevaeh saved last night. I called the hospital and was told he is expected to recover, though he’ll need to have skin grafts.”
The hospital wouldn’t normally give that kind of information about a patient to a non-family member. But Nevaeh didn’t ask. Probably another one of Phoenix’s sources. Or maybe Cora’s. The angelic-looking blonde had more tricks up her sleeve than most people expected. It was a mistake to underestimate anybody on the PK-9 team.
“Praise the Lord he’ll survive.” Bristol voiced the church-ish saying as if she meant it. And she did. Both she and Cora did. It was obvious in the way they lived out their faith all the time.
“Amen.” Sof added the addition. So weird coming from her. The woman had been Nevaeh’s partner in joking about Cora and Bristol and their church talk, their mini sermons, and frequent mentions of God. Sofia’s jokes had seemed to carry more of an edge to them than Nevaeh’s. Like she had more serious issues with God or religion.
But just like that, Sof had joined them. The cold CIA agent fighting machine had gotten religion. And a husband and daughter.
If any more drastic changes struck her PK-9 family, Nevaeh was going to get whiplash.