Little jabs like traffic tickets.
Reid had a suspicion that his smile wasn’t a pretty sight.
He parked and walked in to work without so much as looking back, though his internal radar never quit operating. He knew exactly where his father had parked and that he hadn’t gotten out of his vehicle.
Instead of going straight to his own office, Reid detoured to Lieutenant Renner’s.
“I have a problem,” he told her.
She listened attentively and without comment. At one point, she turned to reach for a report and her blazer fell back. Her blouse rose enough for him to see that she hadn’t been able to get the button at her waist fastened.
Damn, he thought. Say something?
No, wait. She probably didn’t want other people knowing her business any sooner than was necessary. Generally, he felt the same. He was gaining enough respect for her, he hoped she intended to come back to work after a maternity leave.
Tuning back in, he heard her explain that, as was usual around Angel Butte, significant crime had plummeted with the recent crappy weather. Patrol officers were busy with fender benders and cars that had slid off the road; investigators had time on their hands. She could spare a couple of detectives as Reid needed them. She felt sure they’d be glad to help. She called two of them into her office. One immediately volunteered he had a friend patrolling Reid’s neighborhood at night, too. He’d ask Officer Munro to drive by Reid’s house often.
Reid thanked them all and went upstairs to deal with the usual morning phone messages and emails.
A call from Roger didn’t improve his day. The creep had struck again, this time inflicting damage that would be costly. The tires had been slashed not only on Roger’s truck, but on the three vehicles the boys had been working on.
Roger turned down Reid’s offer to pay to replace them; a donation had just come in from another former alum that would cover the cost, no problem, he said. Feeling uneasy without transportation, he’d taken the opportunity to have a local tire store deliver four tires for his truck. According to Roger, he’d grumbled about vandalism, leaving the impression he’d already reported the crime.
His worry spiking, Reid felt even more unsettled. He had to get away from his father and stake out the grounds of the old resort again. He should have been there last night. If he wasn’t going to get any sleep, he might as well be doing something productive.
Now, though, he’d have to do his best to know his father’s whereabouts at night instead. Incidents had been staged somewhere around a week apart and, until now, only on weekends. Maybe chance, maybe not. Here, by unlikely coincidence, Dean Sawyer was in town midweek and, yes, they’d had another incident at the shelter. Patience never had been one of his virtues. Now that he was openly in town and showing his hand, if he was the one playing the tricks, he might accelerate the pace of his threats.
Reid almost wished he believed his father was behind the fires and all the rest. He’d positively enjoy arresting him. But he’d already put his finger on the source of his uneasiness. Dean not only wasn’t patient, he also wasn’t subtle. He lashed out when he was angry; he didn’t taunt.
Although keeping Reid under observation 24/7 could be seen as a taunt. So maybe he’d changed in the past twenty years. It was something to think about.
Given his inability to concentrate on anything on his desk, Reid figured it was just as well that he’d scheduled a ten o’clock meeting at the sheriff’s department headquarters. On his way out, he made a quick call to Detective Conner, one of the two detectives who had cheerfully agreed to provide one of those jabs.
His father crowded his bumper again the minute Reid pulled out onto the street. Now, that was his style. In-your-face.
Not five minutes later, Reid had the pleasure of seeing flashing lights appear two vehicles behind him as his father was pulled over, surprised by an unmarked car. Fun as it might have been to stay to see the show, Reid kept going.
Strike one.
If he hadn’t had the upcoming appointment, he could have used the opportunity of having escaped his shadow to drive out to Bear Creek. Not that he’d learn anything. His mistake, he decided grimly, was not being sure he knew where his father was all night. He wouldn’t make it again.
His talk with a major who headed the county sheriff’s department support services turned out to be productive, and he was glad he hadn’t postponed it. They were winding things up when the major said, “Oh, I almost forgot. If you have time, Sheriff McAllister asked if you’d stop by his office.”
“Sure.” Reid levered himself out of the chair and asked for directions. A minute later, McAllister’s PA smiled and told him to go on in to the inner sanctum.
He’d met the guy a few times, although their conversations had been brief. Tall and rangy with steady gray eyes, Colin McAllister had to be close to Reid’s age, maybe a little older. They shook hands and McAllister offered coffee, which Reid accepted out of politeness more than desire, since he’d just had a cup downstairs with the major. The PA took their orders and produced two cups with admirable efficiency.
When she stepped out with a final smile, closing the door behind her, Reid watched her go. “If I thought I could get away with kidnapping her, I’d do it. Keep her for a few days so I could suck everything she knows out of her head.” There was more fervor in his voice than he’d meant to reveal.
McAllister laughed heartily. “What are you doing for an assistant right now?”
Reid told him. “I seem to scare the crap out of her. It’s not getting better, either. And nobody I’ve interviewed feels right. Any suggestions?”
The sheriff had one. He’d been impressed with a clerk in Records. Leslie Needham. “The departmental head isn’t going anywhere, which means no growth opportunity there. She’s too sharp for the job, although selfishly I was glad to have her there so I could ask for her when I needed something. Try talking to her.”
Reid made a mental note of the name. “I will.”
McAllister wanted to know how things were going and whether Reid had any questions. Thinking about Anna’s advice, Reid set aside his pride and admitted to some of his floundering.
“Take your time getting up to speed,” he was told. “Nobody expected you to be well-informed on things like data management or evidence control. Never mind supplies.”
“And fleet maintenance. I’m not a mechanic. I feel like a fraud.”
The guy looked sympathetic. “Trust the people who work for you until they prove themselves untrustworthy. That was my philosophy. When I got promoted into that position, I came out of Investigations. I didn’t have any more background for that side of the job than you do.”
“At least you knew where the toilet paper was stored,” Reid grumbled.
McAllister laughed again. “I did know that.”
Reid studied the other man. He wondered if the Hales were right in thinking McAllister was fully aware of what they did. Would they have turned to him if Reid hadn’t been in town?
If there was ever a time they needed to be marshaling resources, it was now.
“Paula and Roger Hale tell me they know you,” he said.
The sheriff’s expression immediately became guarded. “In passing,” he agreed.
“How much do you know about what they’re up to?”
McAllister considered him, not giving much away. “How much do you know? I thought you were new to the area.”
“They took me in years ago.” Once he’d told Anna, it seemed it had become easier to be open about his background. “It’s partly because of them I decided to take the job here.”
“I see.” The sheriff stirred after a minute. “I should have acted on what I learned, but chose not to. I hope that doesn’t turn out to be the worst decision of my life.”
“They’re good peop
le,” Reid said.
“That was my impression. It’s why I kept my mouth shut.”
Reid smiled faintly. “Not because your wife begged you to? That’s the version I heard.”
McAllister gave a reluctant grin. “Might have had something to do with it.” After an extended silence, he said, “I’m guessing there’s a reason you raised the subject.”
“They’re having some problems right now. Nothing you can do yet, but...I’m testing the waters.”
“You going to tell me what kind of problems?”
Reid did, including his own useless efforts to catch the perpetrator.
“So nothing lethal.” McAllister frowned. “It sounds like the work of a troubled kid to me.”
“That’s been our assumption so far.” Reid hesitated, not wanting to go out on a limb that might crack any minute. “It’s crossed my mind that a pissed-off parent might have found the place.” Say, like Dad.
“If so, why wouldn’t he or she go to the authorities? Why play stupid games?” McAllister shook his head. “I don’t see it.”
“It’s not likely,” Reid agreed. “But I’ve heard the stories from the kids the Hales have taken in over the years. Some of those parents aren’t wired right.”
“I do realize that.” The frown lingered on McAllister’s forehead. “If there’s anything I can do...”
Satisfied, Reid stood up. “I’ll let you know.”
“And feel free to call if you can’t find the paper towels.”
Reid was laughing when he left after a firm handshake.
Pulling out of the parking lot a minute later, he wondered how long it would take his father to appear in his rearview mirror.
* * *
IT TOOK ANNA twenty-four-plus hours to admit her reaction to Reid’s part in his brother’s getaway had been out of line. She knew how much he cared about Caleb. His determination to help his brother was the whole reason she and Reid had become...well, whatever they were. Friends didn’t seem to quite cover it, not when she remembered the one passionate kiss, but she let it go for lack of any other word.
She of all people knew that sometimes there wasn’t a good answer for a kid in his brother’s situation. If the abuse had been going on for a long time and his father had convinced social workers and judges that it wasn’t happening, Reid stepping in wouldn’t necessarily turn the tide. How was he supposed to prove he’d been abused, too, all those years ago? Maybe placing Caleb somewhere safe for now was the best option.
She’d spent a couple of hours with Corinna Terrill’s foster parents planning a funeral for a girl who was popular with her peers, and listening as they raged. The boyfriend’s condition had been elevated from critical to serious, and she understood their anger even as she counseled them on what they dared be heard saying. Reporters were calling and ringing the doorbell. The principal of the high school had held a quick assembly this morning to offer grief counseling to students who wanted it. She was talking about waiting a week or two and then holding a second, lengthier assembly to hit hard on the subjects of safe driving and the perils of drinking and driving.
Anna wished her the best. This tragedy might actually chasten Angel Butte teenagers for a few weeks. An optimist would even hope for a month or two. But Anna knew darn well that by September and the beginning of a new school year, kids would have forgotten. Hormones would keep memories short. What kid ever thought anything bad would happen to him or her?
The ones who’d already had bad things happen, of course. But they would keep quiet, because that was what they did. They didn’t want anyone to know how rough they had it at home. Mom might be a raging alcoholic and the fourteen-year-old knew no one else would feed her younger siblings if she didn’t, but that reality would be hidden at school and even from friends. And, insane as it was, that same girl might well speed once she had her license, or think her boyfriend’s reckless driving was cool. She might even have a sense of fatalism. Shit happened, and she knew she couldn’t prevent it, so why not have fun?
Anna went home weary and seriously depressed.
She lasted through dinner before her conscience made her pick up the phone. She almost hoped to get Reid’s voice mail, but instead he answered immediately.
“Hi,” she said, feeling shy.
“Hey.” His voice was low and gruff. “I kept thinking about you today.”
“Me, too. I mean, I thought about you.”
He laughed. “Good.”
“I just wanted to, well, tell you I’m sorry for saying what I did about Caleb.” She finished in a hurry. “I do trust you. And it’s true that getting a kid involved in the foster-care system isn’t always the best answer.”
“Thank you for saying that.” He sounded even gruffer. “The truth is, I’m afraid of losing if I take our father on in court.”
“I know,” she said. “Although—” Anna squeezed her eyes shut. She’d sworn she wasn’t going to pretend to have all the answers for him. Nobody liked a know-it-all.
“Although?” he prompted.
Now she pretty much had to say what she’d been thinking. “Just that having two of you saying the same thing might make the difference. That’s all.”
The pause made her wonder what he was thinking. “Maybe,” he said at last. Typically unrevealing.
“Anyway, that’s all I called to say. I get on my high horse easily. That’s not what you needed from me.”
Again there was a pause before he spoke. “Actually, I like it that you’re honest with me, Anna. Don’t pull your punches.”
She gave a weak smile he wouldn’t see. “I don’t think anybody has ever said that to me before.”
His chuckle felt like the slightly rough feel of his fingertips on her skin. “Have you eaten?” he asked.
“Yes. You?”
“Yeah. I could have used company.”
“Did you have a bad day?”
“Not the best. You?”
They weren’t saying anything special, but she realized they were both speaking in soft voices, as if... She didn’t know.
“It was awful,” she admitted. “Mostly fallout from the car accident. Um. Is your father still lurking?”
“Oh, yeah.”
“I suppose he’d follow you if you came over here.” Oh my God. Was she suggesting...? The heat in her cheeks told her that, yes, she’d just invited him over.
“Are you asking me?” The timbre of Reid’s voice had changed.
“If...well, you want to talk or anything.” Especially anything, she admitted to herself. She didn’t do casual sex—but sex with Reid Sawyer wouldn’t be casual, not on her part.
“Yes, he’ll undoubtedly follow me, but I don’t give a damn. Unless it’ll bother you to have him know where you live.”
“He isn’t a threat to me, is he?”
“No.” His words came slower. “Not to you.”
“You?” she whispered.
“Not anymore. If you mean it, I’ll be there in five.”
Her heart was pounding, but that didn’t stop her from saying, “I mean it.”
“Good,” he said with some of the same intonation he had used earlier. His satisfaction was unmistakable.
Anna rushed to clean her kitchen before he arrived, as if he’d care, then sprinted into the bathroom to peer anxiously at herself in the mirror. Too late to do much of anything about her appearance, even if her suddenly slapping on a bunch of makeup wouldn’t be ridiculously obvious. She made a face at herself. Obvious? No, just ridiculous.
In the end, she settled for running a brush through her hair and changing out of her cozy but hideous cardigan into a loose-weaved sweater that clung to her body, making her look curvier than she actually was.
False advertising, she thought with a sigh, then jumped six inc
hes when the doorbell rang. Pulse racing, she rushed to let Reid in.
He probably only wanted to talk anyway.
The breadth of his shoulders blocked any sight of his father’s SUV. She hurriedly drew him in anyway. “Is he there?” Silly to be whispering.
He grinned, watching as she shut and locked the front door. “Nope. He likes to ride my bumper. Amazingly enough, he just got his second ticket of the day for tailgating. Which also means he lost me.”
“Second of the day?” She stared at him. “You’re responsible, aren’t you?”
“Damn straight.” The amusement was gone, the steel bared. “The son of a bitch is going to find out he can’t terrorize me.”
Maybe she should have an ethical problem with him using the police force for a personal vendetta, but... “If he’s dumb enough not to have learned from the first ticket, he deserves what he has coming,” she decided. “Besides, I hate drivers who tailgate.”
Reid flashed another of those truly wicked grins. “Me, too. I’m performing a community service.”
They were in the middle of her small living room when she hesitated. “Would you like a cup of coffee? Or...?”
He took a step closer to her, lifting his hand as if to cup her face, but stopping before he touched her. His eyes had a dark glow that mesmerized her. “No coffee,” he said. “All I want is you.”
She tilted her head to nestle her face in his hand. “Yes, please,” she said, her voice shaking.
He groaned, and the next thing she knew his hand had slid around to the back of her head and his mouth had closed over hers.
Anna rose on tiptoe and kissed him back with all the passion in her.
CHAPTER NINE
REID HAD MADE a resolution on the way over here. No matter how much he wanted her, this was just going to be sex. Good sex, he hoped, but he wasn’t for one minute going to forget his limitations, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to loosen the reins on his willpower. Which meant controlling even the kiss.
Harlequin Superromance September 2014 - Bundle 1 of 2: This Good ManPromises Under the Peach TreeHusband by Choice Page 14
