by D. D. Ayres
He lifted his mock beer in a little salute. “Nice.”
“Thank you.” She slid into the chair and picked up her own order. “So, why are you really here?”
James gave his head a little shake. She had a directness that most women he knew wouldn’t know how to pull off. At least he was never in doubt about where he stood with her.
He, on the other hand, was feeling downright underhanded. He couldn’t keep his mind on his mission when she was offering him an unrestricted view of the cleft between the twin swells of her breasts.
He crossed his legs under the table to cover his need to reposition himself. One glance into her big dark eyes and he knew he was going to lie a little longer about why he was here.
“It’s like this. You’ve stolen my partner’s heart. He can’t concentrate at work. He’s agitated at home. He won’t even eat my cooking anymore. You ruined him for anything beyond fried oysters and corn muffins.”
“Is that so?” Was that humor sparking in her dark eyes?
“Absolutely. Bogart’s a simple sort. He likes a good meal. Hard work. Hard play. A little cuddle. And a nice soft place to put his head at the end of the day.”
James would just about swear he saw her struggling to hold back a smile playing at the corners of her mouth.
She leaned back in her chair and folded her arms under her very nice bosom. “Don’t you think you’re interfering in something that isn’t your business?”
“Everything about my partner is my business. He can’t speak up for himself so I have to. Are you serious about him? Because if you’re not, you need to back off and let the poor boy be.”
“Isn’t that sweet?”
A waitress neither of them had noticed stood by the table with their orders.
She gave Shay’s shoulder a little bump with her elbow. “You don’t find many men who’d go to the trouble of looking out for a friend that way.” She looked at James. “What kind of partners are you?”
“We’re police, ma’am.”
“And your friend is sweet on this young lady?”
“That’s how it appears to me.” James gave the waitress a by-the-book expression. “She took him in and won his total devotion. Since they parted he just doesn’t know what to do with himself.”
Shay was biting back laughter now. “You should be ashamed of yourself.”
“No, now, hon. He’s just being honest.” The waitress put a hand on James’s shoulder. “I know neither of you are asking, and it certainly isn’t my business, but I was married to a police officer for a lot of years. They tend to be moody and men of few words. But that’s all right if he loves you and you love him. He’ll show his feeling in other ways.”
Shay lost the battle with her laughter. “I get great big slobbering kisses every time I see him.”
“Hm, maybe you can teach him a little better way to go at it, if that’s not something you like. I find most men are eager to please a woman they care about.” She looked at James. “Isn’t that right?”
“Yes, ma’am.” James’s gaze remained on Shay, fascinated by her laughter.
“Here you go. Now, I have two orders of bacon cheeseburgers with onion rings.” She set the plates before them. “All set?”
Shay nodded at the waitress.
“What about you, Myles Standish?” The waitress winked at Shay.
James looked up. “I’m good.”
When the waitress had moved on, James looked at Shay. “What was that about?”
Shay picked up her burger and took a bite. She wasn’t about to tell him. Besides, the waitress had gotten the reference backward.
James reached for his phone. “I’m going to look it up. Miles who?”
“Myles Standish. Pilgrims? What? Did you sleep through American history?”
Shay put down her burger and turned toward him. “Myles Standish and this other guy, John somebody, were in love with the same woman. Only John didn’t do anything about it because Myles was his friend. But one day, Myles asks John to go plead his case, because he’s too shy to do it himself. The lady hears John out, about what a great guy Myles is and how much he likes her, and then says, ‘Speak for yourself, John.’”
“So, what happened next?” James gave her a slow sexy grin that betrayed he knew the answer.
Shay rolled her eyes, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of making her say it. “Can’t remember. Probably Myles and John ran off together and lived happily ever after.”
James’s laughter made the table shake.
Shay joined in, and felt the weight of the week slide away.
Conversation came to a near halt until all that remained on their plates were smears of ketchup, mustard, and crumbs.
Shay looked up from her empty plate and glanced around in search of the source of the live music that was starting up. Instead, she spied the woman who called herself Carly standing at the near end of the bar. She had been staring at their table. Caught in the act, she lifted her beer bottle in salute and then turned her back.
Shay bit her lip as familiar alarm bells jangled in her head. Why was a stranger so interested in how her date was going? Something told her it was more than mere curiosity. She glanced again at the bar. Carly was talking to a guy.
She scanned the room again, this time looking for hints of something not right. Had Eric sent someone to spy on her? Or was he here now, lurking in the crowd? Waiting for … for what?
Shay glanced away. Oh God! That sounded totally paranoid, even after the day she’d had. She was losing it. More likely that Carly person was one of those female predator drones who got their kicks from targeting another woman’s man. She’d certainly tried to pry personal information about James out of her. Where was he from? How long had they known each other? Now that she thought about it—
“Something wrong?”
Shay was surprised to find James gazing intently at her. “No, just thinking.” She leaned in a little, hoping to block his view of the bar. “Sorry.”
He reached out and ran a finger over her upper lip. “You have a smear of mustard.”
Vibrating from his touch, she reached up and carefully wiped her mouth with her napkin. “Better?”
“The view from here is great.”
Right. We’re on a date. Not part of some thriller movie.
But the mood was spoiled. Shay could feel herself sliding back into her protective shell. It was a short trip from unease to suspicion before her acutely tuned protective instincts slammed into overdrive. No, no, not tonight.
She looked across at James, using his open honest gaze to shock her heart back into its regular rhythm. Nice guy. No, great guy. He deserved better than her. She didn’t doubt he would find that better woman without much effort. “You date a lot?”
He chuckled. “I’m not a horn dog.”
“But you’re dating someone?”
His expression sobered. “Maybe. I’ll know more if she says yes to seeing me tomorrow.”
Shay looked away, embarrassed that she didn’t have enough experience to successfully flirt with a man who made her want to flee one minute, and jump him the next. Her reactions to him were too strong to control.
She shifted her gaze back to the bar. Carly was gone. That should have made her breathe easier but it didn’t. She needed to get out of here.
James had been watching Shay all evening, absorbing details like the fact that for the past few minutes she kept glancing nervously over at the bar. At first, he thought she was on the lookout for someone. Maybe Eric. Then he saw the dirty blonde in Daisy Dukes lift her beer in salute. Shay’s reaction had been to go as pale as his tighty whities. That didn’t make any sense.
On second inspection the blonde wasn’t as young as she first appeared to be. And there was something about her attitude. Then he had it. Cop. It was difficult to shed the posture of a law enforcement officer once it had been learned. This woman was, or had been, on the job. He’d swear to it. That didn’t explain Shay’s react
ion to her.
What are your secrets, Shay?
He reached for her hand, as it lay on the table by her plate. His warm palm slid over the back of her cool hand, covering it entirely. “You want to tell me why you need protection? Is it Eric?”
Shay hesitated. “What do you mean?”
“I’ve seen him in action. Was he abusive throughout your relationship?”
The warmth in her eyes died, and her whole body visibly tensed. She pulled her hand away. “Are you asking as a friend, or a police officer?”
She had asked him that question once before. His answer was still the same. “Whatever you need to be comfortable.”
She stared at him for several seconds, no doubt trying to decide how much to trust him.
“Not here. Okay?” She began looking around as if she couldn’t wait to get out of the restaurant.
He stood up. “Then let’s get the hell out of here.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
“Damned if I know.”
James ducked out from under the hood of her car. “You say the check engine light was on earlier?”
Shay nodded quickly, her arms wound tightly about herself against the autumn chill. “I guess I should have believed it.”
“Well, I can’t jump it and you have gas. I’m sorry but you’re going to have to get it towed.”
He watched her face fall. “I take it you don’t have Triple A or something. But your insurance should cover it.”
She looked down and didn’t reply.
“You don’t have insurance?”
She glanced across at him, misery making her eyes appear almost black in the dim light of the parking garage. “Liability and bare-bones collision.”
“Okay.” He closed her hood. “This is what we’re going to do. The car should be okay overnight, but take all your belongings. In the morning, I’ll call Raleigh police and get a reputable tow.”
“Okay.” Shay bit her lip. No point in telling him she couldn’t afford a tow, much less a repair bill.
James watched her collect what amounted to very little from her car and then opened the passenger door to his cruiser for her. Her anxiety made him want to tuck her under his arm and promise her that bad things would never again happen to her as long as he was around.
But life wasn’t like that. He couldn’t stop all the big bad wolves from coming to her door, or anyone else’s. But he was feeling the urge to try.
* * *
“I’m really sorry about this.” Shay sat uneasily in the passenger seat of the cruiser. She had given him directions to her neighborhood.
“No problem. I’m a door-to-door kind of date guy.”
Bogart stuck his head through the front hatch between them, tongue lolling out of his mouth, and slurped the side of Shay’s face.
She laughed nervously and pushed him away. “The waitress was right. Your kisses need some work.”
James glanced at her. “I assume you aren’t talking to me.”
Shay turned to look out the window so that he wouldn’t see her face. She liked him, really liked him.
They drove northwest out of the main part of town. Shay had directed him to avoid the 440 Loop traffic though it took them away from the most direct route to her apartment. Plus, maybe she didn’t want to say good night yet, though she was definitely going to leave him at her door.
A little nerve jumped at the corner of her mouth. The problem was, she didn’t want to leave him on her doorstep. Or the living room. What would he do about that?
As they left the main part of the city a soft misty rain began to fall. James turned on the radio. To her surprise, it wasn’t country. Pink was singing one of her plaintive songs, something about getting up and trying again.
Suddenly, out near Crabtree Creek, the brake lights of the traffic ahead all leaped into brilliance at the same time. The sound of screeching brakes and squealing tires accompanied them.
“Uh-oh.” James stepped on his brake and they rolled to a stop behind a double line of cars. “Did you see anything?”
“No, I wasn’t paying attention.” Shay craned her head forward to gaze between the pulsing windshield wipers.
Moments later a man came running toward them, arms waving. James let down his windshield an inch.
“You a cop?”
James nodded.
The man pointed back up the line of cars. “Car went off the road up ahead. Blew a tire, I think. Jumped the guardrail and went down the incline. There’s a creek down there.”
“You call 911?”
“Yeah. I’m a trucker. But we need to get down there, pronto.”
“Right. Let me move out of the traffic lanes.”
Turning his flashing lights on, James drove his cruiser up over the curb and onto the grassy shoulder and carefully edged forward. He didn’t move forward all the way to where the railing was because he knew other law enforcement and emergency vehicles would need the space.
Shay eyed him cautiously. “You’re going to help?”
He put the car in park before he turned to her. He’d almost forgotten she was with him. “That’s right. I want you to stay in the cruiser with your seat belt on. I’m leaving the lights on but there’s the chance of being rear-ended because some driver may come along who isn’t expecting a sudden stop.”
James got out and rushed forward following the trucker. The lights of the stalled traffic lit up the angled beginning of a guardrail. He noted it was bent and scraped. The car must have catapulted over it. Farther ahead, several passengers had emerged from their cars and were looking over the railing above the creek into the darkness below.
As they reached the rim of the incline that led down to the creek bed, James and the trucker paused.
Two men in business suits carried a half-conscious woman up the grassy incline, her body sagging between them. James winced. Good Samaritans often moved people who should not be moved until they’d been examined. But it was too late to point that out.
The woman came to life as they tried to lay her in the grass.
“My baby! My baby!”
She twisted away from them and began trying to crawl back the way they’d come. One of the men reached to restrain her by the shoulder. “It’s okay, ma’am. We’re going to send someone back down there in a minute.”
“No! No! No! My baby! Got to get my baby!”
James stepped forward. “How old is your child?”
The woman’s eyes darted from one to the other until they came to rest on James. “Mariah. She’s six months old. Oh God! Something happened. I just lost control. Oh God! Please! Please! Make her okay!”
James glanced at the two men trying to restrain her without hurting her. “You searched?”
“We checked. It’s dark down there.” One of the men shook his head. “There’s a car seat but there’s no child in that car.”
“Yes there is! Oh God, Mariah’s in there! You’ve got to believe me!”
James knelt down to bring his face even with hers. “Her name’s Mariah. She’s six months old. Is that correct?”
“Yes.” The woman’s eyes widened until the whites showed all around. “Please help her.”
“Where was she riding?”
“She’s in the backseat. In her seat.” She grabbed James’s sleeve. “Someone must get her out of there!”
“Yes, ma’am. If she’s down there, we’ll get her.”
Out of breath, the woman sagged back weakly, sobbing.
James looked up at the trucker. “You got traffic cones?” The man nodded. “Okay, make a perimeter. I’m getting my partner to help search for the child.”
As he rose to his feet he heard sirens but they sounded a good way off.
As he jogged back toward his cruiser, Shay exited the car. “What can I do?”
James looked back at the frantic mother. “The driver is a woman. She says there was a baby girl in the car but the men who went down to help couldn’t find her.”
“Oh my God!”
He opened the trunk and took out some things. He put them either in his pocket or tucked them in his belt: a pair of boots, a muzzle, and Bogart’s tracking harness. “If there’s a baby down there in the dark, Bogart has the best chance of finding her.”
“Can he do that without a scent?”
James nodded as he bent to exchange his shoes for heavy tactical boots that zipped on. “It’s a search, not a track. As far as we know, the baby is the only one down there.”
“Oh.” Shay watched him with expanding appreciation for what they did.
Bogart barked, a high excited bark Shay had never heard before as James strapped on his harness and attached his leash.
“He knows he’s about to work, doesn’t he?”
“Right. Don’t touch him. He’s in the zone.”
“Is that why you’re muzzling him?”
He nodded. “There’s a crowd of excited people milling around. I don’t want him to bite anyone in the confusion.”
Shay backed up, hugging herself as the mist gathered in her eyelashes. “What can I do?”
“You can help see to the mother. Anything to calm her. And don’t let anyone move her again until the ambulance gets here.”
“Do you have a blanket?”
He nodded. “In the trunk. Roof compartment.”
Shay ran to the back and pulled out a lightweight dark gray blanket. As she came around the cruiser, James lifted a hand in salute. “Be careful!”
He then bent over to stroke Bogart, who was visibly excited. “Gute Hund. Let’s go.”
He moved forward quickly, Bogart straining forward as if he already knew what the command would be. James kept him on a short leash to work him past the ever-growing crowd of onlookers. A couple of men had begun voluntarily directing traffic but that was not his concern. There was the possibility of a missing baby out there in the dark.
As he neared the crowd he gave warning. “Stay back!”
His shout made a few young men in lumber jackets and gimme caps look back at him. “There’s a kid down there.” One man pointed. “We’re going to look.”
