“Okay,” she said.
The sound of her heels clicking on the black linoleum sounded louder than usual. Each staccato pulse ratcheted up her tension. She didn’t know why she was nervous. She’d spoken with the agents who’d been on the case several times since leaving Bristle Park. But on those occasions, she’d known what they’d wanted, and Lee and Brown had always been with her.
The blinds clacked against the glass as she pulled the door open and stepped inside. A man sat in the chair in front of Brown’s desk in a black suit. His slightly balding head seemed familiar, but she couldn’t place where, until he turned.
“Ah, Detective Shea.”
She froze, her eyes going wide. “Mr. Rafferty?”
He moved out of his seat and came to stand before you. “Agent Rafferty. At least for the next month. I’m retiring.”
She still hadn’t blinked.
“Are you quite all right, dear?”
She shook her head. “You’re FBI?”
He chuckled and hooked his thumbs in his belt. “I could show you my badge if that’d help. Come, let’s chat. I’m sure you have a lot of questions.”
They took the two seats that sat together in front of Brown’s desk. “How have you been?”
“Uh…”
He frowned and patted her knee. “I can see I’ve shocked you.”
“Is Regencyland real?” Had the whole thing been a set up?
“Quite; belongs to my ex-wife. Seven years ago, I was shot while on duty and nearly died. May demanded I retire, but I wasn’t ready. She left me and with her savings opened Bristle Park.”
The fan was on in the corner, whirring away. The noise almost too much for her as she tried to comprehend what was happening here. “Then, you weren’t on duty while you were there?”
“I was not.” He leaned back in his chair; his almost portly belly pushed out a bit.
“At your ex-wife’s resort.” That couldn’t be a coincidence.
“Yes, not my idea. A grand scheme conceived by a friend to help me reconcile with my wife.” He glanced up then in a moment found her gaze again. “Not the salient point here, though.”
“So, it was just coincidence that you were there?”
“Yes. Once we knew you were a cop, and that you were watching Cross we kept an eye on you. For no other reason to make sure my wife, her customers, and business weren’t in danger. We started getting really concerned after she was almost shot.”
“Yeah, so was I. How’d you know I was a cop?”
“I didn’t.” He smiled. “You’re very good at what you do. I’ve made a letter of recommendation for you and Detective Lee with the FBI, should you ever decide to switch over.”
She let out a surprised chuckle. “Thank you.”
“The least we can do.”
She smiled, then realized something. “You keep saying we, but I don’t know who we is.”
“Don’t you?” He tapped the side of his nose with his pointer finger.
Shea blanched. Only one other man she’d known had done that. Daley.
A large grin spread over Rafferty’s face. “He’s the one who figured out you were a cop, but I think you already know that.”
The popping bag came into mind. Along with a plethora of other things he’d done. “He’s a Fed?”
“No, no. Far too conventional for him. He’s a Private Investigator. Solving mysteries is a compulsion for him, really.” He laughed and looked at his watch. “Now, where is that boy? Ten minutes of waiting and he left in search of hot chocolate. He can be so impatient; I’m sure he’ll be back—”
Shea sucked in a strangled gasp for air and jumped to her feet, knocking her chair down in the process. “I’ve gotta get out of here!”
“Shea?” Rafferty called out as she made a beeline for the door.
It opened just as she reached it and she ran right into Daley.
His arms wrapped around her and his megawatt smile spread across his ridiculously handsome face. “Well, hello to you too.”
“Rick, my boy, there you are. I was just about to go look for you,” Rafferty said.
She pushed against Daley’s, Rick’s chest, trying to pry herself out of his grasp. He held tighter and backed her into the room. Over his shoulder, Brown and Lee stared in her direction. Brown had his hands on his hips and a look that could kill. Lee smiled and saluted her, before the door swung shut.
“Let go,” she whispered. “My boss—”
“You mean the cowboy out there who came tearing into Bristle Park with a swat team to save you?” Daley asked.
She shoved again, but to no avail. “He came to save Cross.”
“He came for you.” Daley said, leaving no room for argument.
She stopped struggling, shock hitting her full on. Why would he do that? “He, he didn’t.”
“He did.” Rafferty stood and went to the door. “I’ll wait outside.”
He patted Daley on the shoulder and ducked out. Her face scorched and she looked down when the door opened, refusing to make eye contact with her boss again.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, once again trying to pull away.
“I’ve already told you. I like you,” he said. It was so matter of fact, no bells or whistles, no hint of desperation or worry that she might not reciprocate. It was like he was stating the sky was blue or that his favorite food was sandwiches.
The plain, straightforwardness of it caught her off guard, and she ceased to fight against his hold. “You like me?”
“Yes. More than like you, actually, but we hardly know each other and you’re a flight risk.”
“A flight risk?” She tried to sound indignant, but it was a little difficult when only moments before she’d tried to make a run for it.
He chuckled. “‘Like’ seemed a safer word to use at this stage in our relationship.”
Relationship? But she’d yelled at him, called him a murderer, and sin of all sins, she’d left him at Bristle Park without so much as a goodbye after he’d saved her life. And he still liked her.
Her gaze turning to the desk phone and its noticeable lack of red flashing light. Where was the warning now. When she needed it most? She blinked.
He leaned forward, and her eyes fell to his lips. Any second and he was going to kiss her, but no!
She put her hands flat against his shoulders. “Wait.”
He harrumphed. “Okay.”
“Rick?”
He shrugged.
“I don’t like it,” she said.
“Call me Patrick then. I quite liked it when you called me Patrick.”
She thought about that a moment. “Daley, listen, we don’t know anything about one another. I thought you were an actor.”
He waggled a finger at her. “I never said that. Also, I never lied to you.”
She scoffed.
He made a small space between his thumb and forefinger. “I might have omitted… a little. So did you, the cons of the job. But everything else was true.”
She guffawed. “You told Smith and Cross you ran away from the circus as a kid.”
“That’s true,” he said.
She rolled her eyes.
He made the Boy Scout salute. “Scout’s honor.”
“Were you in the Boy Scouts?”
His smile fell. “No, but see, honesty.”
She narrowed her eyes. “I have questions.”
“Of course you do.” He dropped his hand back to her waist. “Shoot.”
“Don’t tempt me.” All the pieces of the puzzle that had left her confused were slowing falling into place. “You sent Savannah into the woods after me because you knew I wanted her close, right?”
“Yeah.”
He’d been helping her the whole time. “And the fishing line, tripwire talk?”
He nodded. “I was worried you weren’t getting enough sleep. I’m good at implanting suggestions in people’s minds. Little something I learned in the circus. I’m glad it worked. Yo
u’re horrible at taking care of yourself.”
She pulled her chin back. “I am not.”
He pushed a lock of hair off her face. “You know why May told you to stay away from me?”
“How’d you know about that?”
“I caught the end of your conversation with her. You were practically yelling when you left her office.” His eyes twinkled.
She dropped her head to her hand.
He reached up and caught her hand, and brought her arm around his neck. She allowed it.
“Don’t hide your face, please,” he said. “I’ve missed it. Francis Gray was a friend of hers. She invited her to Bristle Park, as a setup. If I wanted to get her and Will back together I had to allow it. May thought Gray left because of you. She could see I favored you. When I heard you tell her you wouldn’t stay away from me, I thought I might still have a chance.”
Why oh why wasn’t the light blinking now?
“Well?” he asked. “Do I?”
A lump formed in her throat, making it impossible to speak. So, she nodded.
“Excellent. Now, we have some unfinished business.”
She furrowed her brow. “Unfinished business?”
He nodded, his face serious. “It’s official. This is the third time you’ve ended up in my arms.”
She pulled away. “Oh, please. We’re not in Regencyland anymore.”
He grabbed her hand and pulled her back. “And yet, I fully intend to spend the rest of my life wooing you.”
“Woo?” She started laughing. Who spoke like that? Tears formed at the corners of her eyes. This was so surreal. This kind of thing just didn’t happen.
He tried to keep a serious face, but a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Are you done?”
Pulling herself together, she wiped a tear from her eye. “I guess—”
And then he was kissing her. He was gentle but passionate and his kisses tasted of chocolate. Sparks shot up and down her body, warming every inch of her. She ran her hands into his hair and he pulled her closer. Had she ever had a more perfect kiss? She couldn’t remember. She could barely remember the last time she’d been kissed.
And then she realized she knew the answer. This wasn’t a kiss that could be forgotten. No one had ever kissed her like this before. Never had she felt so safe and special and “liked.” Because she’d never been kissed by someone who’d “more than liked” her and who she’d “more than liked.”
It was why she’d been so miserable since leaving Bristle Park. The reason she’d cried in the shower at night, and had lost her appetite. It was why she’d so diligently thrown herself into her work, spending more time and hours than she, the workaholic, ever had before. She’d missed him. This brilliant, funny, irritating man, who even while she’d been totally out of her element had allowed her to be herself. Had encouraged it even.
The kiss ended all too soon, but she could almost bare it when he wrapped her in a tight hug.
“You’ve lost weight,” he said. “Have you been picking at your food again? I wish you wouldn’t.”
She shot a glance at the phone again, but there’d never been a warning with him. Even when he’d been harrassing her, she’d never been afraid of him. He’d felt safe from the get go. She locked gazes with him again. “I more than like you too.”
He furrowed his brow, and she fought the urge to rub the crease away. “That’s excellent, now let’s get out of here and find you some food.”
Taking her hand, he dragged her from the office.
“Thai food, please,” Shea said. “I feel like a four course meal.”
“That’s my girl.”
The End
About the Author
Ellie Emily is an emerging author of historical fantasy. This is Ellie’s seventeenth book.
Regencyland- The Bristle Park Murders Page 21
