Aiden was quiet for a couple of moments. “This schedule, with my job, isn’t really working for us, is it?”
It pretty much sucked, but I couldn’t ask him to give up his job. He’d worked hard to get where he was, and he did a lot of good, frankly. “We can make anything work.” I didn’t like his tone of voice. The idea of Aiden moving on was always in the back of my mind, but he had purchased a cabin in town, so he seemed to want to set down roots. “You’re excellent at your job, Aiden,” I murmured.
“Is that really a good thing?” he asked. “I spend too much time being somebody else, lying to everyone around me, making connections that aren’t real.”
It was rare to find him in a philosophical mood, considering he was more of an action-oriented guy. I swallowed. “Are you thinking of making a change?”
“Not in my job,” he said quietly.
Oh, crap. I couldn’t deal with this right now. “Well, you’re not making a change in us,” I muttered. “Suck it up and deal with your job, Devlin. I can handle the long distance and weird schedule, so stop thinking that I need stability and that you should step out of the way.” Sometimes I had a direct line to his brain, and I had no problem using it when necessary.
His chuckle was sexy. Plain and simple. “I hate the idea, but Nick Basanelli is a good guy, and he did ask you out.” Aiden’s voice was now teasing, so I didn’t get pissed.
Basanelli was the current county prosecutor, my former boss, and a total hottie.
“He’s practically engaged to my sister, Tessa,” I said, grinning.
“Do either of them know that fact?” Aiden asked.
I chuckled. “It does not appear so, but surely deep down they know they’re meant to be. Nonna Albertini has decreed it’s a fact, so you know. It’s only a matter of time.” Which reminded me, I’d forgotten to add a couple of meetings to my weekly calendar.
A bang sounded over the line. “Shit. Gotta go, baby.” He clicked off.
I lay for a moment with the phone still pressed to my ear. Then I sighed and set it on the table again, snuggling down beneath the warm covers. My eyelids closed and I began to relax, figuring the nightmare wouldn’t catch me again.
A whistle pierced through the snowy night outside. The kind from fingers in a mouth and not from a referee at a game.
My eyelids jerked open and I stilled, listening. No sound except a slight wind filtered through the night. Had I heard a whistle, or had I started dreaming? As no other sounds came through the evening, I began to let my body lose the tenseness. All right. I must’ve been dreaming already.
Just as my eyes started to close again, another whistle had me sitting up in bed.
Heat flashed into my ears, and the blood rushed through my veins. I yanked the LadySmith nine mil from my bed table and shoved free of the bed, padding carefully through my cabin to the windows by the front door that looked out to the trees and drive. Holding my breath, I moved a curtain aside to see the snow lightly falling in front of my porch. There was no other movement.
I sat on the sofa and watched for at least ten minutes, my gaze scouting the tree line and my hand sure on the gun. Nothing.
Something caught my eye…something red. I slowly stood and moved to the door, opening it and flipping on the porch light.
My walkway from porch to driveway ran along the side of the garage, and the light illuminated a perfect red heart painted on the side of the garage, drips sliding in a creepy display before freezing in place.
My stomach rolled over.
Chapter 4
Detective Pierce smelled like lavender lotion when he strode inside my cottage, kicking snow off his boots first. He wore jeans, black boots, and a black sweatshirt that stretched across his muscled chest. His blond hair was snowy and mussed, and his green eyes were alert and pissed. “You doing okay?”
“Yes.” I sat on my sofa, one leg crossed beneath me and a mug of coffee in my hands. “Did the techs find anything?” I’d called the police immediately upon seeing the graffiti heart, and as usual when it came to me, Pierce had been pulled in.
“Boot prints in the snow by the garage—they look to be around size twelve. Haven’t found the spray paint cans yet,” Pierce said, dropping into the adjacent chair. An even stronger smell of lavender came from him, and since his normal scent was male and ocean, I wondered whose body wash he’d used earlier that night. But it wasn’t my place to ask, and right now, I had enough to worry about. “You were smart to call us,” he added.
While I’d tried to solve more than one case on my own before, I wasn’t a moron. “It could be nothing. The flowers and the heart might be misguided attempts of a secret admirer or something like that,” I said, blowing on my coffee and not meaning a word. Knowing better.
“Uh-huh,” Pierce said, drawing his notebook out. “Do you think it’s Jareth Davey? I know he usually sends a Christmas card.”
Davey always sent a card. “Anytime anything scary or weird happens, I think of him,” I admitted. “This isn’t his MO, so it’s doubtful. Before you ask, I don’t have any clients or even opponents who’ve acted inappropriately or given me concern lately.” The more I thought about it, the more this seemed immature or silly. “I hope I haven’t wasted your time.”
“You haven’t. It’s smart to get ahead of things like this.” Pierce looked around my quaint home. “Where’s Devlin?”
I wished he were right next to me. “He’s on a job,” I said. “I don’t know where.”
Pierce’s eyebrows rose. “What did he say about the heart somebody painted on your garage late at night when you were here alone?”
Geez. When he put it like that, it did sound creepy. Here I’d just almost convinced myself this wasn’t a big deal. “He wasn’t pleased about the flowers, but I haven’t told him about the painted heart,” I said. “He’s working, and I need him to concentrate on not getting shot, which means his mind has to be on his mission and not on me.”
I expected Pierce to argue.
“Yeah, that sounds about right,” he mused, sitting back in his chair.
I couldn’t deal any longer. “Why do you smell like lavender lotion or body wash?”
He stiffened. “I don’t.”
“Do too,” I countered.
“Do not,” he retorted, looking down at his notebook, a very slight red winding up his neck.
In spite of the chill in my gut, I grinned. “Timber City might be bigger than my hometown of Silverville, but there are very few secrets here, Pierce. Give it up. Who’s the new loooverrrrr?” I drew out the last word like I would’ve with any friend.
He looked up, a veil dropping over his gaze. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Albertini. Stick to the fact that you apparently have a new stalker, would you?”
“Sometimes you’re no fun,” I groused. In fact, he was rarely fun. Maybe whoever he was dating could get the guy to lighten up. I sobered. “It’s possible Jareth Davey is finally making a move. I’ve tried to find him, Aiden has tried, and so has the prosecuting attorney’s office. Nobody has found him.”
Pierce nodded. “I’m aware. I also know he mailed you a card earlier this year at your home, which means he discovered where you live. Since we don’t know what any of this means as of yet, you need to proceed as if this is a threat to you, either from Davey or from another enemy. If it turns out you just have a dorky admirer, then great. If not, then you need to be prepared.”
I’d been preparing to take out Jareth Davey since the first moment I’d learned to shoot a gun after being kidnapped by him. “I am prepared.” As much as possible, anyway. How could I prepare to meet up with a psychopath who starred in my nightmares? Well, most of them. “The flowers are one thing, but the heart and whistle in the middle of the night were meant to scare me. If I combine them, then it’s a little more than scary. Unless…it’s dorky,” I murmured.
Pierce sighed, and the sound was heavy with sarcasm.
I dropped my chin. “You know, only you
could make air sound sarcastic.”
“Your luck doesn’t lend itself to dorky,” he retorted.
Fair. Sad, but fair. “Wait a minute. This isn’t my fault,” I countered, remembering at the last second to stand up for myself.
“Didn’t say it was,” he agreed. “In fact, I’d argue that none of this is your fault. But haven’t you noticed how trouble follows you?” His green eyes narrowed on my face. “It’s like you’re one of those energy suck fields, like a black hole, that somehow attracts danger. There’s probably a quantum mechanical theory out there that hasn’t been discovered yet that could describe your energy field.”
Had Pierce just likened me to a black hole? I snorted and then laughed, happy when he joined me. The guy had a great laugh—maybe this new romance of his would bring out more of this side of him. “You do have a way with words.”
“Yeah.” He lost the amusement as the techs began filing out. “Have you thought about getting a dog? Maybe a big one with a frightening bark?”
I had. More than once. “With my work schedule, it wouldn’t be fair to a pet,” I admitted. However, I did now have my own law firm, so I could probably do what I wanted. Killer the attack dog could attend work with me. It was something to think about, and it’d be fun to have a pet. When Aiden was out of town, it did get lonely. Not that we lived together, because technically, we did not.
“Albertini? I lost you. Where did you go?” Pierce asked.
I blinked. “Just thinking about getting a dog and how I’d make it work.” And how I now had the man of my dreams, kind of had him, and wasn’t sure I could keep him. Men and dogs. There was a joke in there, but right now, I wasn’t seeing the humor. Did Aiden want to make a change? Our entire relationship was built on challenges, gunfights, and explosions. How could I make that work? He was sexy and dangerous and fun…but not around that much. Was that part of the appeal? Would we just fall apart as a couple if he hung around?
Pierce cleared his throat. “Again…you’re gone. Did you hit your head or something?”
I forced my attention back to the moment. “Just thinking. It’s late, Pierce. Give me a break.”
He studied me and then his gaze slid away while his shoulders rolled. “Want to talk about it?” The words came out garbled as if it hurt his throat to say them.
I grinned. “That’s a kind offer.”
“You have no idea,” he huffed. He tapped his pen against his other wrist as if he really wanted to get the heck out of there. “If you don’t want to talk, do you want me to take you to one of your sister’s homes for the rest of the night?”
“No, but thanks.” If I ran to my sisters every time something went wrong, I’d never be at my place.
He moved toward the door. “Fair enough, but lock up behind me. I had officers scout the surrounding areas, even down by the lake, and nobody is around. Right now, anyway.”
“Thanks.” I followed him to the door and dutifully locked up after he’d left, making a mental note to buy materials the next day to fix the side of the garage. Then I moved to the sofa and watched Pierce disappear down the walkway to his car, and his headlights shone brightly into my living room as he backed out of my driveway. He turned at the main road, his tires skidding across the ice before he regained control and drove sedately away.
Then silence. Only a quiet night with the snow serenely falling to cover the footprints of everyone who’d visited my house, including the person with the can of spray paint.
I watched the snow fall for a while, keeping an eye on the tree line on the other side of my cottage. Nothing moved, and I didn’t get the sense that anybody was near. Whoever had painted the heart was long gone—at least for the night.
Letting the curtains fall back into place, I turned and moved to the middle of my living room. Since I was already wearing yoga pants and a loose top, there was no need to change before I began stretching and methodically running through the defense moves Aiden had been teaching me. Oh, I always had a gun handy.
That might not be enough when Davey came at me.
But I was. I was more than enough.
Something told me that Davey would be learning that soon. I pivoted quickly with a roundhouse kick and followed up with a series of punches in the air that I tried to make faster each time.
In the far distance, I heard a whistle. Or maybe a cry from a wolf or coyote. It was high-pitched and rode the wind, the sound both mournful and a warning. Could’ve been anything—including a whistle from a man. I shivered but kept moving, my ears alert for any other sound.
Only the wind and ice breaking from the trees wound through the silence of the night.
I dropped and rolled, coming up into a fighting stance. “I’m ready, asshole,” I whispered. Then my phone rang and I yelped, ducking beside the sofa.
Embarrassment heated my ears. Crap. So much for convincing myself I was a badass. Sighing, I pushed to my feet and tip-toed to the kitchen to grab my phone from the counter. “Albertini,” I answered, acutely aware it was almost three in the morning.
“Anna, it’s Saber. Aiden’s been hurt,” James Saber said, his voice pained. Saber was Aiden’s second in command for their specialty ATF unit.
Everything stopped. Including my heart. “What? How bad?” I started running to my bedroom to get dressed. “Where are you?”
A scuffle sounded and then Aiden’s voice came through. “Angel, calm down. I’m fine.” His slight Irish brogue thickened with pain.
My knees turned to liquid, and I fell onto my bed, relief chasing the panic through my body. “You’re fine? What is going on?”
Another scuffle and then Saber returned. “Tell him he has to go to the hospital and see if we need to get the bullets out. Seriously. If you don’t talk sense into him, I’m knocking his skull in, and that’ll just be one more injury to handle. Tell him. Now.”
I sat up, my heart still pounding. “Aiden?” I whispered.
“I’m here,” he said, sounding exhausted, as apparently Saber relinquished the phone. “It’s only two bullets, and Saber can stop being a jackass. They probably went right on through.”
I shook my head, bile rising in my throat. “Where are you?”
“Portland,” he said. “Bust went wrong, things went to shit. I’ll be home tomorrow. Well, later today.”
“After we go to the hospital,” Saber yelled in the background.
I gripped the phone tighter. “Please see a doctor. Come on, Aiden.” It took another ten minutes, but I finally talked him into seeking medical attention, although he was pissed about both the bust and being shot. Since he kept talking, I figured the bullets hadn’t hit anything important.
Even so, when we ended the call, I just sat on my bed and looked at the picture of a tugboat on my little lake that I’d snapped and blown up to hang on my wall. The nightmares stalked me when I became stressed or even too uncertain about my life, so there was no way I was going to sleep again.
I returned to the living room and practiced my kicks and punches until my arms slowed and my body thumped in exhaustion. Dawn slowly crept across the snowy world outside, and I forced myself to keep practicing until I couldn’t take the pain any longer. Only then did I head for a shower so I could start my day.
I had to figure out who’d killed Santa Claus.
Chapter 5
It was a power red high-heel day, but the snow kept coming, so I wore thick boots beneath my black pantsuit instead. I comforted myself with the fact that I could take out a few ribs with those boots if anybody attacked me. Humming, I strode into my office and past our Christmas tree to find my partner, Clark Bunne, already busy at work in his office beyond the reception area door.
He looked up, his brown eyes focusing. “Morning.”
“Morning.” I deposited his triple honey-thick latte with oat milk onto his desk.
His full lips tipped in a smile, and he pounced on the drink, shoving a series of manila case files out of the way. “All right. What did you do?�
�� He kicked back, looking younger than his twenty-five or so years as he gulped down the drink.
“Nothing yet.” I pulled out a leather guest chair and sank onto it, dropping my laptop bag to the floor. Then I told him about the flowers and the heart painted on my garage.
He lost the smile. “The flowers could be all right, but the graffiti heart in the middle of the night is creepy.” He ran a hand over his dark bald head. Sometimes he grew his black hair out, and sometimes he shaved his head, and either way, Clark Bunne was a good looking man built like a cowboy who herded cattle. Long and lean. His skin was a dusky brown and his features ruggedly angled. His legal mind impressed me, and he had a core of solid honor that was unusual to find these days. I was fortunate he’d taken the leap to start a law firm with me, and I knew it.
I sipped my chai latte. “I agree. It doesn’t feel like Jareth Davey, but I have thought he’d make a move soon.”
Clark straightened his deep purple tie that looked chic and professional with his white shirt and gray suit. He managed to carry off bargain clothing and make it look expensive, which was a skill I’d never learned. “We don’t have any odd cases right now where the opponents would try to scare you.” He glanced at his wristwatch. “I’m meeting a client at Smiley’s Diner in a few minutes to prep for a deposition. It’s that timber trespass case.”
“I think you’re clear on that one,” I said. “Your guy didn’t give his neighbor permission to take down the trees, and it’s easy to get an estimate for damages. Treble damages if you win, baby.”
He nodded. “Yeah, I know. Getting three times the actual damages would be great right now. It’s a hand holding meeting, but we’re used to those.” He stood and stretched his back. “Any idea who killed Santa?”
“No, and I’m letting the police figure it out,” I admitted, having learned my lesson. Mostly, anyway. “I can’t tell how close Pierce is to arresting our client, so I do need to talk to some other witnesses today. Then I have the Fraley deposition for their divorce this afternoon as well as a conference call with Judge Pernacki about the disputed boundary case over in Silverville.”
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