by Rebecca Deel
Ethan had to give him credit for brushing off all their questions and casting suspicion on Serena. “Why didn’t you call the police?”
“Didn’t want her arrested for DUI.”
“So you decided to follow her instead of calling for help? What if she had crashed? You’re not much of a friend, Harrington.”
A cold smile appeared on the reporter’s face. “Oh, we’re more than friends, Chief.”
Ethan fought to keep his expression unresponsive. The reporter’s gray eyes appeared to record every muscle twitch. He’d never heard about a serious relationship from Serena or Ruth. And knowing about his assault on Serena made Ethan suspect the man tossed out the comment as a ploy to see what kind of reaction he’d get.
Harrington smirked. “We had an argument, but she’ll come around.”
“An argument?” Under the table, Ethan’s hands clenched on his thighs. “I don’t call attempted rape an argument.”
Rod stiffened.
Harrington’s smile vanished. “A shared moment of passion. Serena likes things rough.”
Ethan remained motionless until he regained control. An idea surfaced in his mind. He unclenched his hands, then folded his arms and leaned back in his chair. “I have a signed statement on my desk, Harrington. You take by force instead of behaving like a gentleman.”
“Serena lied.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Did I say the signature belonged to Ms. Cahill?”
Amusement crossed the reporter’s face. He raised one hand and scratched his jaw. “No one will believe Grace Martin. She targets every male between 18 and 50 years old. Probably you too.”
Ethan’s gaze zeroed in on Harrington’s hand. “Hold out your hands.”
“Why? Trying out a new interrogation technique?”
“Wouldn’t want anyone to think we didn’t take good care of you during your visit with us,” Rod said. “Your hands, Harrington.”
He thrust both hands out in front of him. “Satisfied?” Two red spots dotted each hand.
Ethan raised his gaze from the swollen areas. “What happened to your hands?”
“Mosquitoes. I’m allergic.” Harrington withdrew his hands. “Any more questions?”
Those red places looked like bee stings to him. He’d experienced enough to recognize the marks. “Know anything about bees?”
He shrugged. “Enough to steer clear of them. Serena’s the one with the bee fetish.”
“You’ve seen her hives?”
“Once. That was more than enough.”
“Where were you this morning between 10:00 and 1:00?” Rod asked.
“Out chasing a story on miniature mules.”
“Can anybody verify that?”
“Meg Cahill sent me out, but the old buzzard who raises the beasts must have forgotten our appointment. No one answered the door at his home.”
“So no one can verify your whereabouts during that time?” Ethan’s lips curved. “Should we ask Grace Martin?”
“Wait a minute.” The reporter scowled at him. “You trying to pin Grace’s bee attack on me? You’re way out of line, Blackhawk.”
“Let’s review this evening’s events, Harrington.”
“Again?”
#
“Close?” Serena’s mouth gaped. “He’s crazy! I shouldn’t have dated him at all, but the dates we did have were casual.” Contemplating a more intimate relationship with Harrington sent a shiver of disgust barreling down her spine. “We went on three dates and you know how the third one ended.”
“He seems pretty sure of himself.” Ethan crossed his arms and leaned against his desk.
Serena put down her empty cup with a thud. “Mitch is sure he’s right about everything.” Uneasiness skittered across the surface of her mind. “You don’t believe him, do you?”
“He says you were drinking tonight, and he followed you to make sure you got home.”
“He’s lying. Again.” Ice edged her voice as blood drained from her face. Serena never considered herself the fainting type, but thought already sitting a good thing. She doubted her legs would hold her weight right now.
Did Ethan believe Mitch? She tried to gauge his feelings about the matter, but Ethan, too good a cop to reveal anything, kept his face impassive. “The strongest drink I indulge in is Coke. I never drink alcohol.” Serena angled her chin. “I’ll even take a blood test if you want.”
“Not necessary.” A slow smile curved Ethan’s lips. “I know you weren’t drunk.”
Relief swamped her emotions. She closed her eyes for a few seconds. “I was afraid you wouldn’t believe me.” She looked up to find his intense gaze focused on her face.
“You have never given me cause to question your integrity, Serena.” His eyes twinkled. “Besides, the more I’m with you I recognize Pam’s accuracy in assessing your ability to lie.” He grinned and pushed away from his desk. “Everything you feel shows on your face.”
“So what now?” Serena accompanied him into the squad room.
“It’s time for you to go home. I’ll follow you and check out the house.” He held up his hand when she started to protest. “Don’t argue with me, Serena. Aunt Ruth called. She and Madison completed their missions. We can’t take any more chances.”
“What does that mean?” She propped clenched hands on her hips. “Why do I have the feeling I won’t like the next words out of your mouth?”
“You won’t, but you don’t have a choice. You either do this my way, or I’ll hustle you out of town into protective custody.” He gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. “It’s not too late to call this off. I can have you out of here in a matter of hours; just say the word.”
His determined expression convinced her Ethan meant every word. She didn’t want Dawkins and his friends to spirit her away. Ethan packing her off into a black hole of anonymity meant the end of Home Runs. If she stayed, Serena could fight to keep her business alive.
She threaded her fingers through her hair. “All right, let’s hear it.”
“Round-the-clock protection, starting right now.” He opened the door and surveyed the parking lot. “I’m taking the first watch.”
“Ethan, you haven’t slept much in the last week. You’re exhausted. Can’t someone else babysit me tonight?” Serena refused to admit aloud that Ethan watching over her went a long way toward alleviating her fear.
Ethan chuckled as he escorted her to her car. “I operated on a lot less sleep in the Army, baby. Don’t worry about me.”
“Serena, wait. I want to talk to you.”
She looked across the parking lot. Great. The perfect way to end a lousy evening. A late night showdown with Mitch. “What do you want, Mitch?” Ethan’s hand, pressed against her back, lent warmth and support.
“When are you going to tell the cops the truth about us?”
“They already know.” The overhead lights glowed enough for her to see his contorted expression. Serena moved closer to Ethan. His arm moved from her back and settled on her shoulders.
Harrington’s lips curled into a mocking smile. “You and this two-bit cop?” His hard-edged laughter stiffened her back. “Oh, that’s rich. Wonder what the fine citizens of Otter Creek will think about the banker’s daughter sleeping around with the new police chief?”
Speechless, she stared at him. His word choice sent shards of ice through her veins. The banker’s daughter. He meant to drag her name through the mud and tarnish her father’s reputation. What would Ethan make of his accusation? Her stomach lurched.
“That’s enough.” Ethan stepped in front of Serena. “Take a hike before I change my mind about a longer interrogation.”
“This isn’t over, Blackhawk. By the time I’m finished with you, Otter Creek will need a new police chief.” Harrington stalked away.
“I’m sorry, Ethan.” Serena rested her forehead against his back. “I didn’t mean to give him more ammunition.”
An engine cranked, then tires squawked as the reporter peeled
from the parking lot.
Ethan turned and slipped his arms around Serena. “Otter Creek’s a small town. How long did we have before he saw us together or someone told him I’m the most blessed guy in town? At least I hope I am.” When she didn’t contradict him, Ethan smiled, lifted one hand and caressed her cheek. “Maybe now Harrington’s attention will shift to me.”
Serena squeezed her eyes shut and tightened her grip around his waist.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
“What did you find out?” Ethan surveyed the street from Serena’s living room window, cell phone pressed to his ear. Dim lighting lent length and inky depth to shadows shifting on houses and asphalt streets.
The glowing light from Serena’s window winked out and left the front yard in darkness. He smiled. Livewire Megan had kept Serena up late. Now he knew what to expect if Serena ever indulged in a multiple caffeine-laden drinks.
“Preliminary search revealed nothing unusual,” Rod said. Papers rustled across the cell connection.
“There’s something off about this guy.” Ethan rubbed his burning eyes. Yet another night with little to no sleep. “Go back. Dig deeper. I want everything on Harrington.”
“Yes, sir.” The detective paused. “Chief, why didn’t you tell me about the assault on Serena?”
“I gave her my word not to say anything and she refused to file a complaint.” She still refused to press charges. How did Grace figure into this? If Harrington had mistreated her as well, Serena might reconsider. “Serena told me he roughed her up a little. I saw her myself, Rod. The evidence confirmed her story.”
“I don’t like it, but I understand why you didn’t tell me. Want me to arrange volunteers for guard duty?”
He turned from the window. “Work out a rotation for the surveillance car. Other than that, one of us will be with Serena around the clock. I may call in some outside help.” Ethan settled back on the sofa. “No one else in the department has enough experience. Anything on the search for Lawrence’s truck?”
“No. It could be anywhere. Easy enough to hide it in somebody’s old barn or even dump it in the lake. I also checked for prints on the honey jar from Grace’s car. Nothing usable.” He paused. “Do I need to relieve you in a few hours?”
“I’ll be fine. Who’s staying with Aunt Ruth?”
“Officer Jansen volunteered. Ms. Rollins griped about it until Kelli gave her the new laptop you bought her.” Rod chuckled. “It didn’t take long for her to start typing.”
Ethan ended his call, smiling. He knew Ruth didn’t like having a guard, but he couldn’t be in two places at once. Though he believed the danger to Ruth had passed, he wouldn’t take any more chances with her life. He hoped the new computer might go a long way toward getting him out of trouble.
Ethan shifted the sofa pillows so he could watch both the front and back doors, and stretched out as much as his 6’4” frame allowed on a six-foot sofa. He clicked Serena’s lamp to the low setting, put his Glock within easy reach, and settled in for what remained of the night.
#
Serena watched her digital clock readout change to 5:00. Awake for more than an hour, her mind replayed the events of the night before on a continuous loop. She sighed. She might as well get up and make breakfast for Meg and Ethan.
No matter what Ethan said, she knew she wouldn’t have made it through that nightmare without him. Ethan kept her calm and held the barking dogs of fear at bay. She smiled remembering his awful date suggestions. If rock climbing and fishing topped his list for date activities, she understood why he remained single.
Serena tiptoed into the bathroom, showered, and slipped on jeans and a polo shirt. She considered tying on her tennis shoes, but rejected them in favor of her pink bunny slippers. Jewel would appreciate her thoughtfulness.
In the kitchen doorway, she flipped on the light and blinked her watering eyes as they adjusted to the bright light. She wished the light had a dimmer. Hmm. A task for Josh?
She zipped around the kitchen, gathering ingredients for cinnamon rolls. While the dough rose, Serena let Jewel out into the back yard and brewed a pot of coffee. Megan needed several cups before reaching minimum civility after late nights.
Jewel yipped at the back door. After Serena let her in, the dog raced around the kitchen, grabbed her tug-of-war rope, and dashed into the living room. “Jewel, no!”
Serena heard movement and deep laughter coming from the living room. She hurried into the room to find Jewel sprawled on Ethan’s chest, rope dangling from her mouth.
“Down.” Serena grabbed the dog and set her on the floor. “I’m sorry she woke you.”
He sat up, chuckling. “She didn’t. I’ve been awake since your feet hit the floor.”
“Coffee’s ready. Would you like a cup?”
“Sounds great. Thanks.” He bent over to retrieve his shoes and stopped. “Bunny slippers?” Ethan looked up at her, grinning.
“When Jewel was a puppy, she chased my feet whenever I wore these.” Serena’s face burned. “I keep them around for her. She stalks the ears.”
“Interesting footwear for working on breakfast. Anything I can do to help in the kitchen?”
Serena’s eyes widened. “You’re serious? You can cook?”
“I learned to cook out of desperation.” He shrugged. “I hate frozen dinners.”
“You’re in charge of the omelets.”
#
“Serena, this is your best batch ever.” Megan licked icing from her fingers.
“You can bring cinnamon rolls to the station any morning,” Rod threw in with a smile.
Serena grinned. “I’ll make a note of that.” She sipped steaming tea, her eyes sparkling.
Ethan shook his head, amazed at her spunk and energy. He knew she hadn’t slept well. Throughout the night, he heard her restless movements down the hall. Despite the lack of sleep, she still sent his pulse into overdrive.
He jerked himself back to reality. “The Feds still on target for a noon arrival?” he asked Rod.
“Yeah.” Rod sipped his coffee. “They want to meet with us at 1:00.” He nodded in Serena’s direction. “They’ll want to talk to Serena as well.”
“Will you be available?” Ethan asked.
“I have a cookie date with Julia Kendall this morning. After that, I’m free,” Serena said.
“Think the Feds will take over?” Rod refilled his coffee mug.
Ethan shrugged. “They think they’re taking over. Pam’s out of the picture until time for a grand jury appearance. I’m not handing her over before then. Too much risk.”
“What about Serena?”
“Yes, what about me?” Serena asked, eyeing Ethan and Rod in turn.
“If the Feds want jurisdiction over the case, they can have it,” Ethan said. “Your safety is my primary concern. I want The Fox, and he’s coming after you.”
“You’ll protect her from a hired assassin you can’t even identify?” Skepticism rang in Megan’s voice.
Ethan turned his gaze on her. “With my life, if necessary.” Wouldn’t be the first time he’d stepped in front of a bullet to protect an innocent victim. This time, though, the stakes were higher and more personal than any other job he had taken.
“I hope it won’t come to that.” Megan rose. “Thanks for breakfast, sis. Madison is staying with you tonight.” She hugged Serena. “Better beef up your Goo-Goo supply.” She waved and shut the door on her way out.
#
“Hi, Miss ‘Rena.” Julia Kendall’s weak voice clued Serena in to how bad the little girl felt.
“How’s my girl today?”
“I don’t feel very good,” Julia said, her face pale. “But I still want to help make cookies. What kind are we making?”
Serena hugged the child close. “A little bird told me you love chocolate chip cookies. Would you like to help me make some of those?”
Julia nodded, then rested her head on Serena’s shoulder as if speaking required too much energy.
> “Julia, I didn’t sleep too well last night. Would you mind if I sit here with you and rest a few minutes?” Serena’s gaze sought out Karen Kendall’s. The worried mother nodded and slipped a light blanket over her child.
Serena sat on the sofa, holding Julia close. After a few minutes passed, the girl’s breathing deepened as she slept. “What does Dr. Anderson say about her?”
Karen sighed. “She’s got another infection, so he’s trying a stronger antibiotic.”
Serena thought through the menus she planned to cook for the Kendalls on Monday. “Karen, let’s change your meals for next week. I want to put your family on an organic diet for a few weeks.”
Karen looked skeptical. “Organic? You think that will help Julia?”
“It can’t hurt. Some people are sensitive to the chemicals and preservatives in the regular food supply. Free-range beef and chicken are fed with natural grasses and grain, things they would eat under normal circumstances. And their meat isn’t tainted with antibiotics or hormones.”
“Will it be too expensive? Alan doesn’t make a huge salary as a cop.”
“The grocery bill might creep a little higher,” Serena said. “But if changing your diet helps Julia, the expense will be more than offset by keeping her out of the doctor’s office.”
“I suppose we can try it.”
“We’ll do this for a month. If we see no difference, we’ll go back to our regular cooking plan.”
Within a few minutes, Julia stirred. “Did I miss the cookies?” she asked, blinking, her lids still heavy.
Serena laughed. “No way, munchkin. I can’t make cookies without my best helper. Thanks for letting me rest. I think I have enough energy to bake cookies now.” She studied the girl’s face. “Are you up for it?”
Julia nodded, smiling.
“Great.” Serena rose from the couch, lifting the six-year-old with ease. She carried her to the kitchen table. “Let’s make the table our mixing area. You are the official ingredients dumper.”
