Scott Lovett. “Yeah, Scott’s my brother-in-law.” Boone glanced up, staring into the Fed’s eyes, not liking the way he looked at him like he was some two-bit criminal. “How about we skip the games and you tell me why you’ve brought me in here?” he demanded.
The Fed handed him another document. “You’re here because, interestingly enough, your brother-in-law made a half mill on the stock market yesterday.”
The floor dropped from under Boone, his fingers pressing tight against the table holding him steady as he inspected the financial document before him.
“And more importantly,” the Fed continued, “we’ve got evidence he’s doing insider trading, with information that likely came from you.”
The chief pushed away from the wall then. His gaze was strong on Boone, disappointment shining in his eyes. “There are two ways you’re walking out of here, Knight. One, taking a lie detector test to prove your innocence and explain how the fuck this happened. Two, in handcuffs. Take your pick.”
Boone had chosen option number one. He passed the lie detector test, and he’d returned to his hometown with his tail tucked between his legs, leaving Chelsea back in New York City, with his brother-in-law in jail, his marriage ruined, and all the good he’d done at the NYPD long forgotten. The stain of his brother-in-law’s actions had been all that anyone had seen after that.
For the past two years, he’d crossed every T and dotted every I to prove himself.
With a long sigh, he sidled next to Asher, studying the photograph. Being a detective was mostly instincts, and a little bit of smarts. And his instincts didn’t like how much the victim looked like Peyton. For his peace of mind, he asked Asher, “Did anything Peyton say in the interview make you believe she could possibly be a target here?”
“Not in the least.” Asher finished off his cookie, and as he chewed said, “I’m going to run a deeper search on her and see what lingers in her past.”
“All right.” Boone took a sip of his coffee to give himself a minute to process. First, he didn’t like the tension in his chest about having Peyton’s life dug into. Which made him damn glad his father didn’t make him lead on this case. Emotions clouded things, made the line oh so blurry, and that could mean a major fuck-up on a case. But there was also a tug deep in his chest, telling him to stay close to the case too. The matching appearance to the victim seemed to be a coincidence. Boone hated coincidences. But he’d learned long ago to keep everything filed away, not focus on one thing until all the facts came in. “What else do we know?” he pressed on.
“That I need that damn coffee, and those cookies are mine,” Rhett said, entering the room. He grabbed two cookies and his coffee from the tray, removed the lid, then took a long sip. “Francis’s family are good people.” He took a seat on the edge of the table, doing his thing by getting right to the heart of what he knew. “The father told me that she had been backpacking for the last year in Europe. She’d come home to save up more money to travel again to Germany.”
“What a damn shame,” Boone said, glancing at the photograph. The universe was often a cruel place. People even more so.
Rhett finished off another sip of his coffee, then said, “The father mentioned an ex-boyfriend we might want to take a hard look at.”
“You’ve got that?” Boone asked Rhett.
Rhett nodded. “Yeah.” To Asher, he asked, “You taking the lead here?”
“Nope, that’s you.” Asher turned away from the board. “The chief’s got another case for me. I’ll assist with Boone.”
They all tended to work long hours when investigating a case, not sticking to shift work. Right after Boone moved back from New York City, they realized as a team they were stronger. Complex cases were worked together, always, with one detective taking lead for the paperwork.
Asher grabbed his coffee off the table and headed for the door. “Call me if you need me.”
With Asher gone, Boone took a long sip of his coffee, feeling the jump of energy he needed, examining the victim’s photograph again. “I’ll see where the crime techs are at, and if we’ve got any prints to run.” There wasn’t much they could do without evidence. Once they had that, the case would hopefully take off.
Rhett sidled up next to him. “I’ll find that ex-boyfriend the father mentioned and see if anything comes from that.”
“That’s a good start,” Boone agreed. He stared at the victim. She was so young and hadn’t even started her life yet. We’ll find who did this to you, he promised Lauren Francis. They’d never had a case go unsolved in the two years he’d been back.
This case wouldn’t go unsolved either.
Chapter 3
When it rains, it goddamn pours. Literally. The skies opened minutes after Peyton arrived home from Kinsley’s. She’d just thrown on her favorite yoga pants and a soft gray T-shirt that only got softer with age, when her two-bedroom bungalow was bathed in darkness while sheets of rain hammered the black shingled roof. Peyton assumed the only one happy about the rain was the ivy climbing along the left side of the lake house toward the stone chimney. Peyton certainly wasn’t thrilled. The power had gone out after the first crack of lightning, and the pitch black did nothing good for Peyton’s nerves. Her mind kept circling back to that poor woman on the floor of the shop. A woman who didn’t deserve to die for the few hundred dollars in Peyton’s safe. She considered calling up Kinsley and rescinding her objection to a sleepover.
First thing first, she needed more light.
She padded her way across the hardwood floors and lit the last of her jar candles. The scent of baked apples and caramel infused the air, and a warm glow cast through her small living room furnished with local antiques. At least the lake house came with appliances, though they had seen better days. The flowered wallpaper peeled off the walls and the hardwood floors were worn beneath her bare feet. Her house was a work in progress, but so was she. Though even she knew how far she’d come. Slowly but surely everything was coming together. A month ago, Stoney Creek felt brand-new. Now she felt more at home here than she had felt in Seattle. And that was a most welcome relief, especially after today. Had this murder happened a month ago, she probably would’ve packed up and moved back in with her parents. Not something on the top of her to-do list.
Today had felt long and exhausting, and that strain and stress lay heavy on her shoulders. She had left Seattle and gave up nursing to stay away from death, but death seemed to follow her. All day her mind kept tugging her back to the darkness that death brings. And all day she’d been fighting against the heavy blanket of sadness that had nearly suffocated her. Finally, free of that lonely pain, she couldn’t return to that place. Her throat tickled with an emotion she immediately swallowed back…again, when there was a knock at her front door. She froze, her heart dropping into her stomach. The knock came again.
“Peyton?” a low voice called on the other side.
Boone. She breathed again.
On the third knock, she opened the door. Intense eyes met hers. Rain dripped off his strong nose and then made its way along his five-o’clock shadow.
“Is everything okay?” she asked.
Boone’s mouth twitched. “Beyond my getting soaking wet, everything is perfectly fine.”
“Right. Sorry. Please come in.” She opened the door wider.
He came in, taking up the front space like he owned her house and everything in it. He ran a hand through his hair, shaking off the excess water. She tried hard not to notice how sexy he looked soaking wet, and then proceeded to fail at pretending she hadn’t. “Is something wrong?” she asked, focusing on why he was there tempting her.
“Everything is fine,” he reported, shutting the door behind him.
“So, you’re here because…?” Not to say she minded the eye candy, but being alone with Boone sent nerves racing up her spine.
He leveled her with that potent stare again, the strands of his hair hanging against his forehead. “I went to Kinsley’s to check in on
you two, only to find out you came home.”
“I sleep better in my own bed,” she told him. “And what happened today was a robbery, right?” She lifted one shoulder, hating how pathetic she was about to sound. “I have nothing but what you see right here. All my money went into my shop and my house.” Okay, sure, with Adam’s company she was set for life, but those finances were all on papers, not cash on hand. “What are they going to take from me here? Besides, they targeted my shop, not me.” Boone didn’t look convinced, so she added, “Asher also said I was good to come home.”
One eyebrow lifted and the muscle in his jaw flexed. “Asher told you to come home alone?”
“Well, not in so many words,” she said quickly, moving to the armrest of the white linen couch and taking a seat. Boone’s gaze followed her every move. “But after interviewing me, he said he thought I was safe. And like I said, I’m okay.”
Boone’s eyes narrowed slightly and with that intensity her skin got hot, the air all but vanishing in the room. “Yeah, and why is that?”
Her brows went up. “Why am I okay?”
He nodded. “You were calm today when faced with trauma. The calmness of a first responder. So back in Seattle, what were you—a doctor, a paramedic?”
She froze, not liking how easily he seemed to get a read on her. She liked being anonymous here. Everyone in Seattle looked at her like, Oh, that poor widow. Friends had suddenly crossed the street to avoid her. She liked being a mystery in Stoney Creek. But it also occurred to her now that Boone needed the truth. She could tell these questions weren’t personal. He was a detective on a case, and she hadn’t exactly been barfing in a bucket like Kinsley. “I was neither of those things, actually,” she told him.
“A nurse, then?” he asked.
She laughed softly. “Damn. You are a good detective.”
He grinned. “I’m good at a lot of things.”
“I’m beginning to realize this.” That crooked smile threatened to make her panties disappear. “I worked in the Seattle General ER.”
He kicked off his boots, then moved closer, curiosity brimming in his eyes. “From a nurse to a lingerie shop owner. That’s a big leap. What made you make that move?”
Her chest tightened, emotion threatening to rise. There were things a woman kept to herself for good reason. Parts of her heart where no one could touch because she’d put up a wall to keep from enduring soul-crushing pain. “One of those spur-of-the-moment crazy decisions.”
“There’s gotta be more to that story,” he said gently, taking a seat on her chair and stretching out his long legs.
There was, so much more. The candlelight flickered against his sculpted mouth, tempting her. He needed an answer, she knew that, so she gave him the truth, minus the hard parts she couldn’t think about, let alone explain. “I’m a widow.”
His expression went from playful to serious in a split second. He rose, then came to sit on the coffee table, facing her. “Jesus, Peyton, I had no idea. I’m sorry. When?”
“A little over a year ago,” she managed through her tight throat. Not wanting to get on that topic too heavily, she moved along. “His name was Adam, and before he died, we came to Stoney Creek for a vacation. I fell in love with it here, with all the cute shops and small-town life. When I decided to move, I knew this was the perfect place for me.” Of course, she moved to Stoney Creek in hopes of finding her happiness again, but Boone didn’t need to know that.
“And the lingerie shop?” Boone asked. “How did that come into play?”
She exhaled the tension from her chest, glad to be past that hard topic. “While I went to nursing school, I worked in a lingerie shop, and loved every minute of it.”
He gave her a gentle smile. “Then this was your do-over?”
She nodded with a laugh. “All good timing really. When I began looking at houses, I saw the lingerie shop was for sale, because the old owner was retiring.” Truth was, Peyton had hoped helping women feel sexy and beautiful would make her feel those things again too. Also something Boone didn’t need to know. “Honestly, that’s all there is to know. I’m here for a new life, a fresh start. No other secrets.”
“Oh, I beg to differ.” He leaned forward and tapped the corner of her eye. “These pretty eyes hold a story. Can’t hide that, no matter how hard you try.”
“Is that cop intuition?”
His mouth twitched. “Something like that.”
She sighed and glanced down, not liking how easily he slid past all her defenses. She didn’t want anyone looking too deep. Hell, she didn’t want to think about her life back then. Steps forward, that’s all she had now.
“I’m sorry for what you went through,” he said, drawing her gaze back to his. “That must have been a hard time for you.”
“Yeah, it was hard. Very hard.” She gave him a soft smile. “But Adam wouldn’t want me to be sad forever. He had this way of dealing with death. He wasn’t religious, so he always said you’ve got the time you’ve got, and you’d better do a lot with it. And that’s how he lived. To the fullest. Every day.” She hesitated, emotion clogging up her throat. “He probably lived more in his twenty-eight years than some eighty-year-olds. He feared nothing.”
Boone returned the smile. “Sounds like an incredible guy.”
She gave a soft nod. “He’d fit right in here. He’d like all of you so much.”
Boone cocked his head, obviously curious. “Is Adam’s passing the reason you left Seattle, or had you planned on moving anyway?”
“Adam’s passing made me take a hard look at my life. I’d always loved the idea of living in a small town, but it was a very hard decision for me to make. I’m incredibly close with my parents, so for them, it was difficult to accept my leaving. But once they heard me out, they understood why I needed to go.”
“Did everything remind you of Adam?” he guessed.
She nodded. “In Seattle, it was us. I needed to go somewhere where I could be me.”
“Understandable,” Boone said firmly, then he arched an eyebrow at her. “Are your friends not missing you, though? I don’t really take you for much of an introvert.”
“How do you take me, then?” she asked with a laugh.
“Smart. Strong.” His mouth twitched. “And you’ve got enough sass to keep things interesting.”
Her mouth fell open, surprised he answered so quickly.
“About those friends?” he pressed on with a grin.
“Well,” she said, blinking twice and refocusing on him. “To be honest, my friends had become Adam’s friends over the years. It wasn’t something that happened fast or anything. It’s just all my close girlfriends moved away, or we just drifted apart somehow. When Adam got into real estate, our personal and business lives intermingled.”
“You don’t talk to any of these friends anymore?”
The rain lightened, no longer hammering the roof but shifting to a rhythmic beat, when she answered. “It’s a strange thing when someone dies. Everyone changes. Maybe they don’t mean to. But I think it’s more that they don’t know how to act or what to say.” She hesitated, then shrugged. “It’s not like one day I woke up and had no friends.”
“What happened, then?”
“Time happened,” she explained. “I think everyone felt weird inviting me out without Adam. His death was hard for all of us.” Her voice tightened, feeling things she didn’t want to feel. She finally looked at him again, tears in her eyes. “Is it okay if we don’t talk about this anymore?”
“Yeah, sweetheart, that’s all right,” he finally answered her, his eyes searching hers intently.
Something changed in his expression then, becoming harder, more determined. And in that single second, she became that girl in the bar again staring at a man, wanting things, needing things. Her heart rate spiked and she felt her lips part, welcoming him closer.
The side of his mouth curved at whatever he saw in her expression. He rose and then boldly leaned in and dragged his nose
against her neck, making her acutely aware of how close he was, and how incredible he felt against her. It’d been so long since anyone touched her like this. Wanted her like this. “Besides,” he murmured, “if it’s all right with you, I’m more interested in doing something else with your goddamn perfect mouth than talk.”
Her breath hitched. “Oh yeah, what’s that?”
“What you teased me with that first night, and what I haven’t been able to stop thinking about.” He brushed his mouth gently across hers. “A little of this.” She leaned up, offering herself while he slid his mouth across hers. “And a little of this.” He threaded his fingers into her hair, pulling her even closer. “Definitely a lot of this.” His sculpted mouth dropped to hers and time ceased to exist.
Actually, the world ceased to exist.
Boone’s kisses were not to touch or to feel, but to consume, and she lost herself in his passion. A sound inherently masculine rumbled from his chest as he tilted her head and deepened the kiss, devouring each of her moans.
When he leaned away, she realized she had fisted his shirt. “Boone,” she whispered.
“Whatever you want, sweetheart,” he murmured against her mouth.
She pulled him closer. “I want you.”
* * *
Boone waited for Peyton to back away or to tell him to stop, but she did the exact opposite. She pulled him closer, kissed him harder. He took everything she offered, every bit of lust that she had to give, feeding the kiss with his passion until she was cradled against him, eager for more.
He’d shown up there tonight to make sure she was safe for his own peace of mind, as well as get some answers he needed for the investigation and to swiftly rule out her involvement. But the second she told him about her late husband, vulnerability seeping into every word she spoke, everything changed. Suddenly, her avoiding him this last month made sense, and with that awareness came an innate desire to protect her. From the sudden dangers in his town. And from her own pain.
He broke the kiss, staring into her hooded eyes, when another flicker of lightning lit up her face. Her beauty tightened his groin. He cupped her face, staring deeply at this woman who came out of nowhere making him want. The fire between them was what originally drew him in. That energy, intensity, whatever the name for it, only burned hotter now. “I need to know what all of this means. Do I have only tonight?”
Naughty Stranger (A Dangerous Love Book 1) Page 4
