by Jennie Marts
What had happened to him? Had he gotten out of her apartment? Had the men found him? The gun shot she’d heard. Who’d fired a weapon?
Oh God, had Teddy been shot?
Was her friend lying dead on the floor of her apartment?
Her body began to shake. She hugged her arms around her middle as if warding off a stomach-ache.
She looked up at the clock above the sink.
How long would it take Mac to get here?
Chapter Two
Mac jammed his bare feet into a pair of tennis shoes and grabbed a T-shirt from the stack of clean clothes piled on his dresser. He took a minute to brush his teeth and stuff his wallet and badge into the pocket of the gym shorts he’d worn to bed.
Grabbing his shoulder holster, he strapped on his gun as he raced for the door.
What the hell was going on? Why was Zoey here, in Pleasant Valley?
And covered in blood? And who the hell’s blood?
The questions flooded his mind as he sped toward Edna’s house.
He knew the house. Had been there more times than he would rather count in recent months. If there was a pile of trouble anywhere near that old woman, she’d find a way to step in it.
But Zoey was different. She didn’t ask for trouble. He gathered that Zoey led a life as trouble-free as possible.
It was why this thing with the Cavelli brothers had been so upsetting to her. He knew about the trouble at her firm, had been involved in trying to protect and help her the last few weeks while she’d been threatened and hounded by the press. He’d been caught up in trying to keep her safe.
If he were honest with himself, he’d admit that he was caught up in more than just her safety.
His sleep had been troubled by thoughts of the danger she’d been in, by visions of her escaping the crashed car, scenes of her being held captive by a madman. And memories of her face as she looked to him for help, thoughts of her lush body as she ran into his arms, images of her long blonde hair and her smooth skin as she walked down the aisle of the church at her grandmother’s wedding. The way she’d smiled at him as she walked toward him, like he was some kind of hero.
Well, he was nobody’s hero. Far from it.
The last thing he wanted was her thinking he could save her.
He absently rubbed at the scar on his shoulder—the torn tissue where a bullet had ripped through his skin the last time he had tried to save someone.
Tried and failed.
So what was he doing racing toward Zoey Allen in the middle of the night?
Turning down Edna’s street, he pulled to a stop at the curb, and exited the car. Pausing, he took in the surroundings of the quaint neighborhood cul-de-sac.
Bright flowers edged every neatly mowed lawn. A small spotlight lit an American flag that hung from the porch across the street, its red and white stripes swaying in the gentle breeze. It was an idyllic picture of small town Americana. Peaceful. Innocent.
That’s why he’d left Chicago and moved back to his hometown. To escape the rampant crime and brutal violence of the city.
But he’d learned lately that danger could lurk anywhere. Even in the most innocent of places.
He cocked his head, listening for any disturbance in the night air. Only the sound of crickets chirping and the hum of a window fan met his ear.
A quick movement caught his eye and he turned, reaching instinctively for his gun. The clatter of metal broke the quiet, and he started, spinning toward the sound. A raccoon scurried around the edge of a garage. The noise had only been the lid of a trashcan hitting the ground.
Other than the masked garbage raider, he didn’t see anything suspicious, so he hurried up the sidewalk to Edna’s.
The door opened as he hit the front stoop, and John Collins waved him in. “Hey there, Mac. Good of you to come over so quickly.”
“Where is she?” He was already inside, taking in the empty living room and striding toward the kitchen.
Zoey was standing at the kitchen sink, washing her hands. Pink-tinged water swirled against the white porcelain as she rubbed her hands under the faucet.
She wore running shoes and a tiny set of blue satin pajamas. Pajamas that were caked with blood. A long streak of a rust-colored stain ran down the outside of her calf.
She turned to him as he walked in the room, her face lighting with—what?—Hope? Need? Or simply recognition?
He didn’t care. She smiled, her lips curving up in a brave attempt even as he saw tears pooling in her blue eyes.
She looked scared and vulnerable. And beautiful.
Without thinking, he stepped forward and pulled her into his arms.
She pressed into him, her body fitting against his in perfect unison. Two cool spots formed on his back where her wet hands clutched the fabric of his T-shirt. Strands of her hair brushed his bare forearm, and a sensation of desire ran through him.
Everything about her was perfect. The scent of her surrounded him—shampoo, perfume, soap, and the underlying coppery scent of blood.
He could feel her trembling, and he looked down at her. “Are you okay?”
She nodded against his chest. “I am now.”
He tilted her chin up to him. “Are you hurt? Whose blood is this?”
“I’m not bleeding, just bruised and shaken. My coworker, Teddy Grimes, showed up in the bedroom of my apartment about an hour ago. He’d been stabbed, and this is his blood.”
“That doesn’t make any sense. When someone gets stabbed, they go to a hospital, not to a coworker’s apartment. Do you know who stabbed him, or why he came to you?”
Her bottom lip trembled slightly as if she might cry, but she swallowed the emotion down. “He came to warn me.”
“About what?”
“He said he’d been collecting evidence about the money laundering scheme at the firm, and that a guy broke into his apartment and threatened to kill him if he didn’t give it to him. Teddy fought him and got stabbed in the fight. The guy had said he was coming to take care of me next so Teddy came to warn me. A couple of guys broke down the door of my apartment, and I ran. Teddy told me that he’d try to hold them off and to get out of there. I didn’t want to leave him, but I was scared. I climbed out the window and drove straight here.”
She looked up at him, her voice shaking as she spoke. “As I drove away, I heard a gunshot. And I heard sirens in the distance, so someone must have called the police.”
“Why didn’t you call the police?” Why didn’t you call me?
“I didn’t have my phone. It had dropped behind my bed, and I didn’t have time to grab it. And Teddy told me not to call the police. He said the Cavellis have guys on the force on their payroll and to be wary of who I trusted. I didn’t know what to do, so I just got in the car and drove here.”
“He could be right. Cops are underpaid, and there are always a few crooked ones who’ll take a payoff to look the other way.” He touched her cheek. “But you can trust me.”
What the hell was he doing? Could she really trust him?
The look in her eyes said she already did. And everything in him wanted to live up to the look she was giving him.
But he knew he couldn’t. Knew he would only let her down.
He needed to step back. Like actually step back. Get his arms from around her and stop touching her face. But her skin was so soft, and she felt so good pressed against his chest.
He dropped his arms but couldn’t seem to pull away from her just yet.
Get a grip, man. Focus on the tasks. Do the work.
He narrowed his eyes at her. “You need to take those clothes off.”
Her eyes widened in surprise, then she grinned and offered him a small nervous laugh. “You’re not even gonna offer to buy me a drink first.”
Shit. That hadn’t come out exactly right. He’d gone straight into cop mode. Easier to think of her as a victim of an assault than as the lush woman currently pressed against him.
Except now he was thinking of her with her clothe
s off. Damn. He was really in trouble here.
“I meant, we need to get you out of those clothes.”
Her grin deepened, and he felt a warm flush spread up his neck.
Geez, what was wrong with him? He took a deep breath. “We don’t know what kind of evidence you have on your clothes. Do you have something else you can wear? I’ve got an evidence bag in the car. I’ll grab it while you get changed.”
She nodded and pulled away from him. “I knew what you meant.” Her expression lost its humor as she looked down at herself. “I’d really like to wash this blood off of me. But I’m worried about Teddy.”
“At this point, another ten minutes isn’t going to make much of a difference. You probably have time to wash off quick in the shower. Just be careful putting your clothes in the bag. We want to preserve any kind of evidence that might lead us to who was after you.”
“I can help her.”
Mac looked up to see Edna standing in the doorway of the kitchen. She wore a short robe that had come open in the front, and he was fairly certain she was wearing the same style of pajamas as Zoey. Except in—Lord have mercy—leopard print.
He frowned and averted his gaze. “Evenin’ Miss Allen, er... Mrs. Collins. I’m still not used to the married name.”
She walked up and patted him on the arm. “Evidently you’re not used to seeing a lot of women in their night clothes either. Geez Mac, they’re just pajamas.”
Pajamas that he never, ever wanted to see again.
He took a step back from Zoey and cleared his throat. “Well, I’ll just go get that evidence bag if you want to help her get undressed. Um…taken care of.”
He turned and headed for the front door before he said another stupid word. What was wrong with him? He was usually cool, calm and collected. Totally in control.
What was it about Zoey Allen that had his stomach turning in uncomfortable knots and idiotic words tumbling out of his mouth?
The night air was cool against his flushed skin, and he pulled a plastic evidence bag from the trunk of his car. He carried it back into the house and knocked on the closed bathroom door.
The door opened just a crack, and he passed the bag through.
“Thank you,” Edna said, and shut the door.
But not before Mac caught a glimpse of Zoey’s reflection in the mirror. She was naked, her back turned to the mirror as she stepped into the shower. Her blonde hair fell across the creamy skin of her back. Her waist was slender above curvy hips that shaped her perfectly rounded bottom.
Mac swallowed and imagined running his hands along the curved length of her. Touching his fingertips lightly to her smooth bare skin. His fingertips, his lips, his tongue.
Okay. He needed to stop. Get back some professional perspective. She’d just been through a highly traumatic incident, and he was imagining her tangled up in the sheets of his bed.
He needed to focus on what he could do for her.
Like figure out who the hell had broken into her apartment tonight. He pulled his phone from his pocket and checked in with his dispatch. Maybe they’d heard something about the break-in.
Rosie was on duty tonight, but she claimed she hadn’t heard anything. She offered to make a few calls to some of her connections in Denver and get back to him.
“That’d be great, Rosie. Thanks.” He hung up the phone as John walked in from the kitchen.
He handed Mac a thermos. “I filled it with coffee. Figured you’d be headed back to Zoey’s apartment and thought you could use the pick-me-up.”
Mac took the container. “Thanks, John. Yeah, I figured I’d take her back down. See if we can figure out what happened and hopefully find her friend.”
John lifted his own cup of coffee and eyed him over the rim. “That seemed like a lot of blood. You think the guy’s still alive?”
Mac shrugged. “Any blood always seems like a lot. But, you’d be amazed at what the body can survive.”
The bathroom door opened, and Edna stepped out. She handed the evidence bag to Mac. “I wasn’t sure if I should seal it.”
“It’s fine. I’ve got it. Thanks.”
Edna stared at Mac, her eyes narrowed and stern. “You find out who’s trying to hurt my grand-baby. And don’t let anything happen to her.”
He nodded. “I won’t. She’s safe with me.”
But was she? Really?
Edna turned and hurried down the hallway.
Zoey emerged seconds later. She wore black yoga pants and a snug fitting pink T-shirt. Her hair was wet, but combed, and hung down her back.
Flashes of her hair resting against the naked smooth skin of her back filled Mac’s head, and his mouth went dry. He focused on pulling the tape and sealing the evidence bag.
Zoey’s feet were bare, and she carried her tennis shoes in her hand. “I’m ready. Gram’s just going to find me a pair of socks, and I’ll put my shoes on in the car.”
Edna appeared with a pair of low cut socks in her hand. She gave Zoey a quick hug. “You be careful.”
“We will.” She grabbed the socks and crossed to the front door. “Let’s go.”
Mac followed her to the car and held the door open. Her arm brushed against his as she slid into the seat, and he had to grit his teeth at the response his body gave to her slightest touch.
He walked around the car and dropped into the driver’s seat.
Get a freaking hold of yourself. She’s just a woman.
A woman whose scent filled the interior of his car. A heady mixture of soap and shampoo and something floral.
“I love this car. I never really pictured you as the hybrid kind of guy.” Zoey gestured to the dash of his Toyota Camry Hybrid as she pulled her shoes on.
He shrugged. “I do what I can for the environment. Plus it’s great on gas mileage.” Wow, could he sound any cooler—talking about the fuel efficiency of his car?
They headed for the highway, Mac concentrating on the lines of the road instead of the woman in the seat next to him.
She had her legs pulled up in the seat and her arms wrapped around them. A slim band of her bare ankle showed below the cuff of the yoga pants.
Criminy. He knew he had it bad when he started admiring a woman’s ankles.
His cell phone rang.
“Mac here,” he said, holding the phone to his ear.
“Yeah, Mac. It’s Rosie. I made a couple of calls, and Denver reported a homicide downtown about a half an hour ago. Neighbors called it in. Said they heard someone breaking down a door then later heard a gunshot. PD found a body at the scene. Door was broken in, but that’s about all I know.”
“Thanks, Rosie.” He disconnected and pressed the accelerator, now anxious to get to her apartment. “That was dispatch. Denver PD reported a homicide in an apartment downtown.”
She sucked in a breath. “Teddy?”
Mac shook his head. “Listen, we won’t know anything until we get there, and it doesn’t do any good to assume the worst.” He flew by two cars in the right lane as the speedometer inched close to ninety-five miles an hour. The hybrid might be fuel efficient, but it had a great engine, lots of horsepower, and the car could fly.
She nodded, two quick bobs of her head, and pulled her arms tighter around her knees. “You’re right.”
He may have been right that they didn’t really know anything, but his assumptions always went to the worst possible scenario. It would most likely be Teddy’s body they found at the scene, but he wasn’t about to tell her that.
Best to keep her mind occupied on other things. “Tell me again everything that happened from the minute Teddy entered your apartment. Try to concentrate and don’t leave anything out, no matter how insignificant it might seem.”
Zoey spent the next twenty minutes of the trip recanting the details of the evening. She stopped as they turned the corner and saw the myriad of emergency vehicles blocking the street in front of her apartment.
Mac parked the car a block back, and he and Zoey walked d
own the sidewalk.
He had the insane urge to hold her hand. Like they were a couple. No, not a couple. Just to offer her support, like a friend.
Yeah, who was he kidding?
He settled for placing a hand in the small of her back as he guided her through the small throng of people standing on the sidewalk in front of the building. Holding up his badge, he got a nod from the officer on duty, and he lifted the plastic caution tape for Zoey and him to duck under.
The stairs were empty, and Mac followed her to the apartment door. A couple of first responders were on the scene and a few cops. He knew they didn’t have much time before the place would be crawling with emergency personnel.
Zoey gasped and reached for his hand as she saw the wide open space where the door had been kicked in and the devastation of her apartment. Signs of a struggle were obvious by the broken furniture and glass littering the floor.
Crossing the threshold, Mac glimpsed the body on the floor of the living room. Thank goodness it was covered with a sheet. He spoke to one of the officers. “You got an ID yet?”
“Who are you?” the officer asked.
Mac held up his badge. “Officer McCarthy, Pleasant Valley PD.”
“You’re a little out of your jurisdiction, aren’t you? What are you doing down here?” The officer eyed Mac and Zoey’s joined hands.
Mac dropped her hand and pulled Zoey forward. “This is Zoey Allen. She’s the occupant of the residence. And a friend.”
Zoey looked down at the body, her face stricken with horror. “Is it Teddy?”
The officer’s face softened a little at her frightened tone. And it probably didn’t hurt that she was gorgeous. “You think you know the guy? Wanna try to ID him?”
She nodded slowly, her eyes glazing over in shock.
“I’ll take a look first,” Mac told her. “What does Teddy look like? What color hair?”
She drew her bottom lip in. “Umm, brown. Brown hair, kind of scruffy. He’s a big guy, well over six feet. Probably in his late twenties.”
The officer shook his head. “You’re welcome to still take a look, but that ain’t your guy. This one is in his late forties and balding. And there’s no way he’s even close to six feet.”
