by Beth Andrews
“Doesn’t matter,” Dillon insisted. “Haven’t you grown up at all?”
His words hit her like a slap. “I wasn’t trying to—”
“You never do.” His aggravation and disappointment made her heart ache. “You want to help me? Steer clear of the police. Better yet, stay away from me. And for God’s sake, don’t do anything else to piss off Jack Martin.”
He went back to his work. Kelsey turned away. It hurt to know he was upset with her, that he still thought of her as the troublemaker she’d been all those years ago.
Damn it, she had changed.
And she would prove it.
CHAPTER SIX
HE WAS MISSING SOMETHING. Jack sipped his coffee and studied the hand-drawn map of Edgewood Lane he’d pinned onto Shannon’s murder board. There were only four buildings on the secluded, dead-end road on the outskirts of town. At the beginning of the lane was the Crandall house, across from it the Schuman residence. Mayor Christine Michaels and her only child, Ben, lived at the end of the lane. The fourth structure was the Michaels’s large horse stable that sat halfway between their home and the Crandalls’, approximately one hundred yards from each house.
He rubbed his free hand over his stomach as he reread his notes. Something nagged at him, niggled at the edge of his brain. A piece of the puzzle just didn’t fit. When it did slip into place, would it prove Ward’s guilt? Or innocence?A knock at the door was followed by a soft voice. “Jack? Do you have a minute?”
Jack quickly covered the board with a blanket he’d snatched from the supply closet and then turned to face Mayor Michaels.
Her straight, shoulder-length brown hair was streaked gold from spending so much time outdoors and her skin still held the faintest trace of summer bronze. The white blouse she wore beneath her conservative black jacket was buttoned almost to her chin while her black skirt reached her ankles. The high heels of her pumps brought her height to just under six feet.
Despite her Sunday-school-teacher appearance, Jack knew Mayor Michaels was ambitious, politically savvy and a force to be reckoned with.
“Of course,” Jack said as he took the seat behind his desk. “What can I do for you?”
Christine closed the door behind her and crossed the small room to him, bringing with her the subtle scent of hay and horses. “How close are you to arresting Dillon Ward for Shannon’s murder?”
He slowly set his coffee cup down on his desk. “I’m in the process of gathering information—”
“Do you really need more information?” Christine sat down and leaned forward. Placed the newspaper onto his desk. “According to this article, you have ample reason to arrest Ward for the murder now.”
That damn article again. He’d already spent the better part of an hour on the phone reaming Dora up one side and down the other. Not that it had fazed Serenity Springs’s intrepid editor in chief any. After the fifth time Dora quoted the first amendment—word for word—Jack had hung up the phone.
“Well?” Mayor Michaels linked her large hands together on his desk, a frown wrinkling her forehead. “Is Dora’s article true?”
“The facts are true,” he conceded carefully, “but it’s not only what I need, it’s also what the district attorney’s office needs. There isn’t enough to hold Ward. Not yet.”
“But Dillon Ward admitted he went home with Shannon. By all accounts, he’s the last person to have seen her alive. You even have a witness who saw him there.”
“Carla Schuman saw his truck there, that’s all.” Unfortunately, Carla hadn’t noticed what time Ward had left Shannon’s. Neither had her husband or teenage daughter. “Ward claims he went to her house to get the money she owed him for laying the tile floor in her bathroom.”
The mayor studied him. “You believe him?”
“What I believe or don’t believe is irrelevant. It’s what I can prove that’s important.”
At the moment, he couldn’t prove a hell of a lot. Yes, Ward admitted he’d been at Shannon’s house and that they’d argued when, instead of paying him what she owed, Shannon came on to him. According to Ward, once he’d told her he wasn’t interested, Shannon freaked and kicked him out.
“Far be it from me to tell you how to do your job,” Christine said, her tone making it clear that while she may not like telling him what to do, that wasn’t going to stop her. “But you may want to get your proof and get this case solved. There are a lot of people in town who want Ward arrested. The sooner, the better.”
“If Dillon Ward is guilty, I’ll do everything in my power to bring him to justice. I’m sure the last thing you, or anyone in town wants is for me to jeopardize the state’s case by arresting him too soon.”
“Are you sure that’s the only reason?”
Though his neck muscles tightened, Jack kept his expression neutral. “Meaning?”
“There have been certain…rumors about Dillon Ward.” She paused, either because she was unsure of how much to say or, more than likely, for dramatic effect. “And your sister.”
“There are always rumors floating around,” he said mildly.
She nodded. “That’s true, but I think, in this case, it would be in everyone’s best interest if Dillon Ward wasn’t associating with your sister, don’t you?”
“I don’t choose Allie’s associates.”
“The prime suspect in a murder case working for the police chief’s sister?” She sighed. “I hate to say it, Jack, but it’s a clear conflict of interest.”
“What would you have me do?”
“Maybe we should let the state police take over.”
Hell. “You want to pull us off this case?”
“It’s not what I want, it’s what city council is suggesting. Mark Crandall specifically.”
Jack finished his coffee. “I understand how Mark feels, but rushing to make an arrest without enough proof for a conviction, isn’t going to do anyone any good.”
Christine sat back. “You can’t blame the man for being upset. His wife was murdered and the main suspect is walking the streets. Jack, the citizens of this town want to know their police department is doing all it can to protect them. They want a police department they can trust, one that’ll make the right decisions and won’t jeopardize their safety.”
Jack narrowed his eyes and wondered if that was a not-so-subtle reference to the mistake he’d made three years ago while still with the NYPD. “The state police are providing valuable services and expertise—with the Serenity Springs PD’s full cooperation and gratitude—but that’s all.”
Christine stood. “I was hoping it wouldn’t come to this, but if you don’t get the proof you need to arrest Dillon Ward…”
“What?” he asked softly, struggling to keep his temper in check.
She straightened her shoulders. “If you don’t get the proof you need, city council is making noises about removing you as chief of police.”
Jack pressed his lips together. This was turning into one big nightmare. “City council hired me to do a job, a job I’ve done well. And while I understand both Mark Crandall’s and the council’s positions, I won’t stand by while they hand over this investigation to another department.”
“This isn’t personal, Jack. But you should know, if it comes down to it and I have to step in to make sure this investigation is run the right way, you might not have a choice.”
“Personal or not, you can tell the council I’m going to run this investigation my way. By the book. Honestly. Fairly.” He kept his voice even, reminding himself that the mayor was the messenger, not, as far as he could tell, the instigator in this mess. “If anyone has a problem with my job performance, they can very well try and get me fired. Until then, I’m in charge and I won’t allow anyone, not even you, to interfere.”
“I’m on your side,” Christine said, her admission surprising him. For the past six years the mayor had made a career out of not choosing sides. “Just let me give you some friendly advice. Be careful. I’m afraid this isn’
t over.”
Damn right it wasn’t over, he thought as the mayor left his office, shutting the door with a soft click. Jack knew it was only the beginning.
SERENITY SPRINGS’S BIG, BAD police chief lived in a small, bricked Cape Cod with twin front gables and arched windows. Three miles from downtown and surrounded by woods, it was well maintained, charming and so cute, it made Kelsey’s teeth ache.
She slipped her purse off her left shoulder and onto her right. Okay, she’d come this far, no turning back now.Smoothing a hand over her hair, she climbed stone steps in the middle of a grassy hill. A strong gust of wind blew, and though she couldn’t see them, she could hear the rustling of leaves.
She reached the covered porch and took a shaky breath. The cool, fresh air tickled her nose as she filled her lungs. There was one reason, and one reason only why she was at Jack’s house at nine o’clock on a Sunday night.
To grovel.
She made a face. She was not looking forward to this. But Dillon was so upset with her that she’d decided she needed to make nice with the cop.
If begging Jack’s forgiveness didn’t prove she’d do anything to help her brother, and that she’d changed, nothing would.
Of course, just because she apologized didn’t mean Jack had to forgive her.
She wiped a damp palm down the front of her denim miniskirt. Okay, so she’d given into her vanity by dressing up somewhat. Her skirt hugged her hips and redefined the word short. The strappy sandals she wore added three inches to her height, and her dark-green top clung to her breasts and bared her belly-button ring. She’d even put on a bit of makeup. Nothing much, just a hint of mascara, light blusher and lip gloss.
She pounded a bit harder on the door than necessary. The porch light came on and the door swung open. And there he was, in all his six-foot glory. She drew in a deep breath. God, he smelled good. Like musky aftershave and…chocolate?
“This isn’t a good time,” Jack said.
She tilted her head to the side and studied him. He hadn’t shaved and the stubble that had covered his chin that morning was now thick and dark. She would have liked to rub her cheek against his just to feel the scrape of his whiskers. Over his jeans and T-shirt he wore a stained white apron with the words Dressed to Grill scrolled across in red print.
From the top of his mussed hair to the tips of his bare feet, he looked hot, flustered and good enough to eat.
“This won’t take long,” she said, praying it was the truth. How long could humiliating oneself take?
He glanced behind him before focusing on her again. “Well? What is it?”
She reminded herself why she was there, and bit back the smart-ass rejoinder that sprang to her lips. “I just wanted to say…this morning when we ran into each other, I might have been a bit…”
She trailed off when Jack glanced behind him once again. Frowning, she attempted to look beyond him into the house but he moved and blocked her view.
“What is wrong with you?” she asked.
“Nothing,” he said and stepped fully onto the porch, leaving the door opened a crack behind him.
Her stomach churned. He must not be alone. Why else would he be so nervous, looking over his shoulder like that, keeping his voice down?
She could easily imagine the type of woman Jack went for. She’d be blond with long, wavy hair, big blue eyes and curves to spare. And, seeing as how he’d turned down Shannon Crandall the other night, he probably preferred his blondes less obvious and more…perky.
Oh, man, perky blondes were definitely worse than air-headed blondes, buxom blondes or even bleached blondes. Perky ones were always so damn friendly.
Not that it bothered Kelsey or anything. She was only interested in Jack because he held her brother’s life in his hands. She didn’t care who he was with or what he did with his personal life.
“You jerk,” she spat and slapped him on the arm. She attempted to storm off but he grabbed her by the elbow and jerked her around to face him.
“What the hell was that for?” he demanded.
She tugged on her arm, but he refused to release her. “Let go.”
He looked down at his hand, then dragged it down her arm. The callused tips of his fingers grazed her wrist, sending her pulse skittering.
He finally stepped back, dropping his hand to his side. With no little amount of effort, she fisted her tingling fingers into her palm.
“You do realize you just assaulted a police officer, don’t you?”
“I didn’t hit you because you’re a cop. I hit you because you’re a man.”
He shook his head. “Care to elaborate?”
“No.” Hands on her hips, she tapped her toe several times. “But for the record, I don’t like the idea of you trying to sleep with me if you have a girlfriend.”
“What?” She saw realization dawn in his eyes. He glanced over his shoulder before leaning toward her. “Is this about the other night? Because even though it was a mistake and never should have happened, I’m not involved with anyone.” He straightened. “And I didn’t try to sleep with you. It was just a kiss.”
Because it was the truth she mumbled, “It was a great kiss.”
He shrugged as if it didn’t matter but she could see in his eyes that he agreed.
“But you’re right,” she admitted grudgingly. “It was only a kiss. Good thing, too. With all this other stuff going on, a sexual relationship between us would be too…complicated.”
An unexpected, sexy grin lit his face. “Honey, if we were to have sex, I promise you complications wouldn’t even cross your mind.”
She blinked. “Conceited, aren’t you?”
“Confident.”
Oh, she had no doubt he’d be good at it. Someone with his looks was bound to know a thing or two. Plus, they’d had that kiss. Very nice.
But she needed to remember who she was dealing with here. Jack was a cop first. And, while all signs pointed to him being one of the good guys, she was afraid that might just be wishful thinking on her part. Even though he claimed he wasn’t involved with anyone, he was still acting weird.
“I’ll let you get back to your evening,” she said and stepped back. She needed to get out of there before she made a bigger ass of herself. If that was even possible.
“Kelsey…”
That’s all he said. Just her name. But the sound of it, rolling off his tongue in his husky voice, was enough to stop her.
“I’m glad you stopped by and that you realize that kiss was a mistake.”
Since there was no way she could force words past the stupid lump in her throat, she simply nodded. Yeah, a mistake. One she was having a hard time regretting.
“The beeper thingy just went off.”
Kelsey jerked her head up at the soft voice coming from behind Jack. Through the buzzing in her head she heard Jack muttering but couldn’t make out the words. The only clear thought she had was that she’d been right.
He had a female in the house. And that female had dark-blond hair, blue eyes and was wearing purple pajamas with cartoon frogs on them. She didn’t have a curvaceous body though. At least not yet.
The mystery woman was a child.
“Daddy,” the kid said, tugging on Jack’s apron. “Did you hear me? The cookies are gonna burn.”
Daddy? Kelsey’s eyes flew to Jack. He smiled down at the kid and ruffled her hair.
Kelsey swallowed. Holy God.
Jack was a daddy.
JACK DIDN’T KNOW WHAT to make of Kelsey’s obviously shocked reaction to Emma.
“Come on, squirt,” he said to his daughter who was staring up at Kelsey with undisguised curiosity. “Let’s go get those cookies.”He didn’t wait to see if Emma followed, just bolted for his kitchen. He took the cookies out and set them on top of the stove. After tossing the oven mitt on the table, he raced back to the porch in record time.
And arrived just as his sweet, precocious daughter told Kelsey, “You have hair like a boy’s.”
“Emma,” he said, using his stern dad voice, “that’s not polite.”
Her little forehead wrinkled. “It’s not?”
“No.”
“That’s okay.” Kelsey’s voice seemed strained as she lifted a hand and touched her hair self-consciously. “It is short like a boy’s. I like it short.”
“Oh.” Emma tipped her head back and squinted up at Kelsey. “And it’s a funny color.”
“Em-ma.” That was it. Maybe he should do something. Like wash her mouth out.
And he would. As soon as they made a nontoxic, candy flavored soap.
Kelsey had a definite deer-in-the-headlights look about her. “Uh, well, my mom had red hair.”
“My mommy had yellow hair, like mine. She’s in heaven.” Emma tugged on Kelsey’s skirt. “Is your mommy in heaven?”
“No. My mom is most definitely not in heaven.”
Before he could stop her, Emma reached out and poked Kelsey’s stomach with her finger. “I can see your belly button.”
To his amazement, Kelsey blushed. He grabbed Emma and scooted her away from Kelsey’s stomach. Although now that Emma mentioned it, he couldn’t help but take a quick peek.
Uh-huh. Like he hadn’t already noticed that Kelsey’s shirt stopped a few inches above the waist of her skirt revealing a tantalizing glimpse of smooth, pale flesh and a glittery belly-button ring.
He also hadn’t missed the amount of leg on display in her short skirt. The images would probably torture him with yet another restless, sweat-soaked night.
Terrific.
“I, uh…” Kelsey tugged her shirt down. Luckily for him, it refused to stay put. “I guess you can.”
“Britney Spears shows her belly button. But Daddy says I’m not allowed.”
“Well,” Kelsey said and damn if her voice didn’t sound panicked, “that’s, uh, good advice.”
