Her Lawman

by Hildie McQueen

"Do you mind if I speak to Eliza Brock for a minute?"

  "No, not at all."

  "What time does she get off, I'll escort her home."

  "She should be done for the day. Let me tell her to go to save you the trip." The older man's brows furrowed. "Is she in some kind of danger?"

  "I'm not sure, Phil," Mark replied honestly. "I think there's a possibility, but I'd rather be safe than sorry."

  "I got ya. I'll send her out." Phil stopped at a table to talk to a patron and then disappeared through the double doors into the kitchen.

  Eliza walked out with a questioning look toward him. Her shoulder length waves were pulled back into a ponytail. It would be great to be the one to remove the fastener and let it down. "Phil said you're taking me home. I thought we'd agreed that one of the guys here would. You don't have time for this right now."

  He cocked a brow. She huffed. "Fine, okay, let me get my things, I'll be right back." Eliza's large brown eyes met his. The woman had no idea how beautiful she was, a couple of men sitting in a booth had tracked her since she appeared.

  "I'll wait right here," Mark replied eyeballing the men. "Take your time."

  A few moments later, she met him at the entrance with a small duffle in her hand. Her hair was brushed now and back up into another higher ponytail. She wore jeans and a plain white tank top that unfortunately hugged her curves just right. His jaw clenched at the men, who didn't try to pretend not to stare at her.

  "You look nice." His voice was hoarse.

  "Thank you." Once again her lips pressed together and eyebrows lowered. "What's going on? Why are you here?"

  He took her elbow and led her outside to the cruiser. "Can't a guy pick up his girl from work?"

  Her head snapped up and she gave him an incredulous look. "That's not what this is about and you know it. Phil was worried after you talked to him. He tried to play it off, but I could tell. You think the killer is going to come after me don't you?"

  "I don't think so, if he wanted to hurt you, he would have done it last night while you slept. He wants you to stay quiet." At least that's what he hoped. Once again he glared toward the restaurant. The damn men were looking out the window.

  "Your jaw is so tense, I'm surprised your teeth are not cracking. And the dark mood has more to do than with the guys who were staring at me." She cocked her head to the side. "I'm not your girl. You haven't asked me yet."

  All right, so she was beautiful and intelligent. Lucky him. Mark wasn't sure how much to tell her. If he told her the truth, she'd probably be mad at him for being over-protective. But then again, she seemed quite frightened the night Jay came to her apartment and even more shaken this morning.

  Once they were in the car and the air conditioner going, he turned to her. "Jay called in today. Said he was taking care of something personal. I got worried."

  She let out a breath and looked straight ahead. "You have enough on your plate without worrying about me, right now. Deputy Scott dropped off the new set of keys. Thank you." Eliza's voice was low, but didn't hold an angry edge to it. Once again he hated not knowing her better to gauge her mood.

  "Jay Garrett is on the murder suspect list. I can't take a chance he'll hurt you."

  The men who'd been looking at her walked out and continued down the street. Eliza looked to the front door of the restaurant. "I don't believe Jay killed Eddie. I know he can be rash and drinks too much, but murder seems so out of his realm."

  "Did you think he was capable of stalking you before he started?"

  The slight flinch made him want to drag the words back.

  "No. I didn't."

  "How about I take you home and then I'll go check to see if everything is all right with Jay. Did you need anything before going home?"

  She shook her head. "No, I don't need anything." Eyes lowered and head down, he hated causing Eliza any distress. He drove the block to her apartment and parked, then walked around and opened the door for her. At her doorstep, he lifted her chin and looked into her eyes. "Don't be mad at me."

  "I'm not. Just frustrated." She lifted her hand and dropped it back to her side.

  "I can bring pizza over later. We can watch bad television again."

  She shook her head and held her duffle bag close. "You don't have time for that. I know it would deter from your work. I'll be okay. How about you call me when you're getting ready for bed?"

  "All right." He didn't give her a chance to stop him. Mark kissed her, his lips over hers in a possessive way that left no room for argument as to how much he wanted her. She relaxed against him, and slid her free arm around his neck.

  Her half closed eyes met his. "I love the way you kiss."

  Mark felt like a hero when she gave him one last longing look before closing the door. "Lock the door and keep your phone with you at all times." Once he heard the clicks of her locks, Mark went down the stairs and to his car.

  His mind back on the investigation, he closed his eyes for a moment and let out a long breath. Something was not right, if only he could put his finger on it.

  Jay was home when he arrived at the singlewide a couple miles from town. He lay on the ground under his truck with country music playing from the speaker he'd place at an open window. There were beer cans strewn around him.

  "Jay?" Mark bent at the waist and spoke to him. "Got a minute?"

  "What now?" Jay pushed from under the vehicle and glared at him. The smudges of grease on his face gave his scowl more credibility. The smell of beer on his breath, took it away.

  "I want to ask you about the morning Eddie was killed."

  The guy didn't try to stand, he sat on the ground and slumped forward. "What about it?"

  "Do you remember who was at the garage when you got there?"

  "Not really." He scratched his head. "Well, then again, everyone was, except one person."

  Chapter 8

  "I knew it!" Cassie giggled and brought the glass of wine to her lips. "That man was looking at you like he would rather have you than the chocolate cupcake."

  Eliza couldn't help but grin. "We've only gotten together a couple of times. But enough to tell you he's a great kisser."

  "Stop!" Cassie held her hand up. "I haven't had sex in almost two years. Last thing I need is to hear about other people's sex lives."

  It was a welcome surprise when Cassie stopped by that evening. Between living with her grandmother and the shop, Cassie kept too busy. She had come over excited and not sure what to do with an evening of freedom. Her grandmother had suddenly announced a trip to Florida and left with friends.

  Eliza shook her head. "We haven't had sex. It's doesn't feel right, the timing is off with Eddie's murder and all."

  "I get that." Cassie became somber. "Can't help but wonder who could have done it. I mean in the daytime too."

  "It must have been planned, or maybe it was a thief who got spooked and ran off."

  "The crack thug," Cassie agreed. "That Shelly is one strange woman."

  The knock at the door made them both jump and they began to laugh. "I hope it's not the crack thug." Eliza looked through the peephole and smiled. "It's Mrs. Miller."

  The older woman walked in with a large bottle of Diet Coke. She was immediately seated on the couch, a glass of soda poured over ice. "Anyone hear about a certain deputy picking up a certain cook from Lovely Diner today?"

  Eliza blushed and Cassie let out a bark of laughter. "Oh, yeah? Eliza tell us about that."

  The women lingered for a couple of hours before they finally left. Eliza was glad they'd come, for a few hours her mind was on something besides the murder and her intruder.

  Now the emptiness of the apartment loomed. "Maybe I should get a dog," she mumbled as she trudged from the front door after locking it. She put the glasses into the sink. She'd load them in the dishwasher in the morning.

  Just as she settled into bed with a book, her cell phone rang. Mark sounded tired, but he tried to hide it by lowering his voice to almost a whisper.
/>   "Called to say good night." He cleared his throat. "I guess I can't do the deep voice thing too well."

  Eliza was grinning so wide her cheeks hurt. "You already have a deep voice. Long day, huh?"

  "Yeah. I had to drive to Knoxville to get some stuff. I'm going to grab a few hours sleep and head out early before Scott gets off to do some things."

  "Hmm." She settled into her pillows. "Is that how our conversations are going to go when you're doing police work? ‘Some stuff,’ ‘some things.’"

  "Probably. Does it bug you?"

  "I don't think so. It's probably best I don't know most of whatever you do."

  It sounded like he chuckled. "Well good night. What time do you get off tomorrow?"

  "Two. Don't worry about picking me up. I'll get someone to walk me home."

  "I'll see you at two."

  She waited a couple beats. "Goodnight, Mark."

  "G'night."

  The phone felt heavy in her hand. One thing Mark was going learn about her was that she wasn't the type to coddle. He'd have to back down on his protectiveness. Once the investigation was over, she'd make sure he understood. Her eyes drooped and she wondered what "stuff" he'd picked up from Knoxville.

  * * *

  Ding. Ding.

  Eliza opened one eye and looked at the clock on her nightstand. "Who the hell visits at seven o'clock," she mumbled shuffling to the front door. She peered into the peephole and Mark winked at her.

  "Oh, God." She looked down at what she wore. Just an oversized t-shirt over her panties.

  She opened the door just a bit and tried hard not to glare. "Count to five and then come in." Eliza sprinted to her bedroom.

  Once she yanked on sweatpants and ran a comb through her tangled waves. She splashed water on her face and went back to the front room. Her heart skipped a beat when he met her gaze.

  Dressed in uniform that accentuated his hazel eyes and dark blond hair, he made for a handsome sight.

  She crossed her arms over her chest remembering she wasn't wearing a bra. "What are you doing here so early?"

  With two strides he was directly in front of her. "I couldn't sleep last night thinking about this." Mark took her in his arms and his mouth instantly fell over hers. Although he took her by surprise, she couldn't find any reason to complain as she wrapped her arms around his waist allowing him to take the lead.

  Eliza allowed her lips to part when his tongue prodded. The invasion brought a moan.

  She couldn’t complain, it felt amazing to be kissed so thoroughly first thing in the morning. His hand slid down her back and he cupped her butt pulling her snugly against him. No doubt was left in her mind how much he wanted her by the bulge against her stomach.

  He traced kisses from her mouth to her ear. "I better go. Scott and I have things to do. He had to make a couple calls so I took advantage and came to see you."

  How easy it would be to get used to him being part of her life and just as easy to get her heart broken when he moved on. In truth she'd not seen him with anyone, but heard here and there that the deputy dated a few women around town. Most of his assignations short, no strings attached. She pushed away from him and looked into his darkened eyes.

  "You should go."

  He brows creased and he cupped her chin. "What's going on in that pretty head of yours? It is Jay? His treatment of you making you skittish?"

  She shook her head. "No, I am just not sure what this is between us? We haven't really discussed it." Eliza hated how her voice pitched almost like a whine.

  "I see." His lips curved. "I'd like the opportunity to explore what can happen between us. If you'd let me."

  "As in sleeping together?"

  "No." He kissed the tip of her nose. "More than that."

  It was apparent he wasn't going to be specific. Like most men the word "relationship" made them want to grab a bat and beat themselves with it until they passed out.

  "I see." Eliza decided to let him off the hook, especially when she noticed he'd brought a bag from Krispy Kreme donuts for her. "You get a pass on replying, mostly because you have great taste in donuts." She kissed him initiating what ended up with her up on the counter, her legs wrapped around him and both of them panting.

  "I better go." Mark backed away, his chest heaving. "Or else I won't make it down the stairs until you're naked beneath me."

  The floor was cool under her feet when he lowered her to it, and Eliza leaned against him. "Be safe."

  "Are you kidding, I could get shot five times and stabbed four and I'd still make it back here to you." He laughed at her shocked expression. "Sorry, didn't mean to be so graphic."

  After he left, Eliza sank into the couch with her donuts and coffee. What would happen once the investigation was over. These quick visits were great, but they'd not gotten to know each other yet.

  Mark came from money. His family owned tons of land in a nearby county. His cousin Chad Hunter, was a country music superstar.

  She wasn't sure what all his family did, other than when she drove past the huge ranch, there were plenty of cows and horses grazing on the land. A metal archway over the main road leading to the huge white ranch house had the word's "Los Cerros," The Hills, artfully made with twisted ironwork.

  The night before, Mrs. Miller told her his family came from generations of cattle ranchers. She always wondered why he chose to be a cop in tiny Lovely instead of working with whatever his family did.

  Unlike him, she came from an average American home. Her father was a construction worker who'd died on the job when she was twelve. After that her mother married again three times, never seeming to find another man she could love as much as she did her father. It must've been hard for the men, having to live up to a dead man.

  At twenty-eight years, Eliza had yet to fully discover what she wanted out of life and that made her angry.

  With a business degree and love of cooking, one thing that did appeal was opening a restaurant. A small bistro with an intimate setting and simple menus. Something with a relaxing atmosphere would be perfect. And although she'd been saving for it, she'd yet to decide where the location would be.

  Probably not in Lovely. It would be hard to compete with the diner. Then again, there was the younger set of townspeople who would probably like something different. She took a deep breath. If she kept dawdling, she’d be late for work. No time to think about all that at the moment.

  Chapter 9

  "I don't think that wide grin will be good when we go in," Scott told Mark as they pulled up to Malone's house.

  Truth be told, he couldn't believe he'd allowed his personal life so much leeway in the middle of a murder investigation. Mark scowled.

  It felt as if he was living two lives simultaneously. One as a cop and the other as a lovesick puppy sniffing after the beautiful Eliza Brock.

  Mark pulled over and parked. "This place doesn't look like Malone. His ex-wife must have chosen it." They looked to the cottage style home in the neighboring town of Newton. Malone drove about forty-five minutes to get to the garage every morning. The old tree lined street with sidewalks and immaculate landscaping, spoke of understated wealth.

  Malone's large Dodge truck stood out starkly amongst the Volvos and Mercedes in the other driveways.

  "I never thought of Malone as having money." Scott scanned the area.

  "He's not hurting, that's for sure. Having money doesn't give him a motive. He may not have anything to do with Eddie's death," Mark said not sure why his gut told him to take a second look at Malone.

  "You know," Scott's brow pinched, "he's more like someone I'd expect to live in a trailer park or over at King Street, where the Masons live. No offense to people in trailer parks, or King Street, but I can picture him in a lawn chair with beer cans and a coon dog more than here."

  Mark looked at Scott and opened the door. "You just hit the nail on the head." He didn't wait for Scott to get out, instead hurried to the front door and rang the doorbell.

 
; "What the hell?" Malone didn't hide his annoyance at finding two cops on his doorstep. "I'm headed to town, you two could have waited to talk to me there."

  He didn't invite them in, but instead moved out to the doorstep and looked toward his truck. "What is this all about?"

  Dressed in his usual dark pants and dress shirt that looked about to burst at the seams around his belly, Malone glared from Scott to him. "Well?"

  "Need to ask you a couple questions." Mark kept his expression blank. "How well do you know Shelly Mason?"

  It was interesting to see anger simmer beneath the surface of the man's eyes. "I don't know her at all."

  "But you went to see her the day after Eddie died."

  Since it was not formed as a question Malone didn't reply. Instead he took his keys out of his pocket.

  Mark took a step over to block his path. "Did Shelly Mason come to you about Eddie's paycheck, or did you take it upon yourself to drop it by?"

  "It was a nice thing to do. It's not everyday an employee dies, so I thought I'd give my condolences and drop off his last paycheck."

  "I find that interesting, Malone," Mark told him cocking his head to the side and shifting his gaze to Scott ensuring the deputy was ready in case Malone became violent. "You see I found out from the company that manages your payroll in Knoxville that all your employees get their paycheck directly deposited. You would have had to inform them of Eddie's passing and asked for a check to be cut and mailed. They would not mail it directly to you, but to Eddie's address on record."

  Malone visibly swallowed, but did not lose any of his bravado. "I took her money. I didn't say I took his last paycheck."

  "Yes, you did," Scott interjected looking at his pad. "You stated, I thought I'd give my condolences and drop off his last paycheck."

  Mark lifted a brow and frowned. What the hell? Did Scott take shorthand at the police academy?

  "Whatever, that's not what I meant." Malone clenched his fists. "Unless you're going to arrest me, get off my property. If you have any more questions contact my attorney." He shoved his way past Mark to his truck.