She raised her chin a little higher. His implied threat to call the police hadn’t rattled her in the slightest. Her eyes held a challenge, delivered with a confidence that bordered on cockiness. Her dark hair was cut in a bob, short and sassy, and a burgundy sweater and black jeans molded themselves to a body that was lithe and athletic. Of course, he had already experienced some of that athleticism firsthand.
“Tell me your name.”
“Jess Parker. Like I told you, this is my house. At least, it’s my family’s house.”
“Priscilla’s sister.”
“Yes, and the Harmony Grove Police would confirm that.” She lifted one foot to rest on the only piece of the coffee table frame that was still vertical, wedging its point in the arch of her boot. “And who are you?”
“Shane Dalton, your new neighbor.”
She gave him the same look he had given her earlier, full of skepticism. “And you regularly follow single women into their homes in the middle of the night and accost them?”
“If they look suspicious enough.”
Her gaze narrowed further. “If we’re neighbors, where do you live?”
“Right over there.” He pointed out the front window to a building that sat kitty-corner.
“That’s Yesteryear Antiques.”
“I know. There’s an apartment over the store. I just moved in today.”
“And the Harmony Grove Police would confirm that?”
He restrained the urge to laugh. She was a master at turning the tables. “I don’t know about the Harmony Grove Police. But I’m sure the Harrisons would, since they’re the ones who collected my rent.”
She dropped her foot to the floor and planted both hands on her hips. “That still doesn’t explain what you were doing here in the middle of the night. Armed, I might add.”
He gave her a half smile. “You’re not very trusting, are you?”
“Let’s just say I haven’t met many people who are deserving of trust. So answer my question.”
“I couldn’t sleep. I was looking out the window, saw you pull up and start looking for a way into the house. I figured I’d better check you out.” It was the truth. Just not the whole truth. “Not knowing your intentions, I decided to grab my gun. Turns out, I needed it.”
She lowered her fists from her hips, but gave no indication that she believed him. “Moving into a new neighborhood and accosting its women is a good way to get yourself killed.” Her tone was scolding.
“Somehow Harmony Grove doesn’t strike me as a dangerous kind of place. Besides, I didn’t accost you. If you’ll notice, you hardly have a hair out of place, while I’m the one trying to keep from bleeding all over my fancy leather jacket.”
One side of her mouth slid upward into a crooked grin, and she brushed past him on her way to the kitchen. “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up. Are you bleeding anywhere else?”
“I haven’t taken inventory, but I think this is it. The rest is internal.”
“I’m sure you’ll live.” She lifted a towel from a folded stack on the counter and held it under a stream of cold water. “And the table? You didn’t get cut?”
“My jacket kept most of the glass out of my back.” He removed the item to inspect it. The leather had fared well. Other than a couple of small nicks, it had come through the ordeal unscathed. The glass was probably tempered.
Once he had hung the jacket on the back of one of the kitchen chairs, she pulled the chair out and pushed him onto it.
“Hold still,” she commanded, and began wiping the blood from his nose and lip. Her touch was amazingly gentle, considering she had used him as a punching bag only moments earlier.
“Where did you learn to fight like that?”
“Six years of tae kwon do. I’m a second-degree black belt.”
“I see.” That would have been nice to know ahead of time.
But he hadn’t gotten any real intel yet. He had been working an assignment in Lakeland, a plane that went down near the airport carrying seven hundred fifty pounds of pure cocaine. The pilot evidently escaped unharmed. There were no bodies and no reports of anyone seeking medical attention for injuries consistent with a plane crash. Since then, he and his team had spent two months undercover and had come up with zilch.
Then this afternoon he got word that someone had called in an anonymous tip. A young waitress in nearby Harmony Grove had been making large cash deposits into her account for the past two and a half months. And she had supposedly just killed herself. Maybe it was related to the case he was working, maybe it wasn’t. But it was the only lead he had had so far. So he had rushed over to Harmony Grove, secured the apartment and settled back to wait until after dark to start his investigation. Except this Jess Parker had thrown a monkey wrench into his plans.
She moved to the counter to retrieve another towel, this time wrapping some ice inside. “Here, hold this against your face.”
He grinned up at her, as well as he could with a rapidly swelling lip. “Do you always provide medical treatment to your victims, or is this your form of an apology?”
“Uh-uh. I’m not apologizing for beating you up. You shouldn’t have been in my house.”
All right. He would give her that. His gaze circled the ransacked room. “So what do you think they were looking for?”
“I don’t know.” Her answer came without hesitation. She didn’t know, or wasn’t willing to tell him?
He locked gazes with her. He could usually spot a liar. The eyes and facial expressions gave it away every time. But reading her wasn’t going to be easy. Her dark eyes were guarded, her real thoughts hidden behind a facade of toughness. Penetrating it would require getting to know her. The idea intrigued him, beyond its impact on the case.
He slapped aside the thought. His career didn’t lend itself to developing romantic relationships.
“Anything your sister might have been involved in that was a little shady? Something she might have had possession of that someone didn’t want the authorities to find?”
She shrugged, as nonchalant as if they were discussing a soft drink choice. “I wouldn’t have a clue. I haven’t talked to her in eight years.”
Eight years? That was hard to believe. “Why so long?”
She raised her chin and crossed her arms. “Not that it’s any of your business, but my sister and I never got along. Actually, I didn’t get along with my parents, either. When I turned eighteen, I took off and never looked back.” She flashed him a smile, but there was no humor in it. “I’m guessing the town of Harmony Grove threw a big party.”
He nodded slowly. Troubled childhood. That explained some of her hard edge. “Are you going to stay here?”
“Not permanently. But since no one can find my mother and whatever man she’s currently with, all of this falls on me. Once I get it resolved, I’m heading back to Miami.”
“The reason I ask is I’m not sure how safe you are here. Whoever did this might be back.”
“Maybe. But he won’t get in. I’m going to screw the stationary slider into place and install a Charley bar to secure the other one.”
“Good. Do you think they found what they were looking for?”
“I don’t know. As near as I can tell, the whole place has been turned upside down. The only rooms I haven’t checked are the master bedroom and the two baths.”
“I see.”
His gaze circled the kitchen, then came back to settle on the woman in front of him. This Jess Parker was a little rough around the edges. Was she part of whatever Priscilla had gotten involved with? Or was she just going to get in his way?
Actually, she already had. He needed to search the place. Somewhere in the mess were clues that could help him in his investigation. But searching with her there was going to be almost impossible. Unless he di
d so right under her nose.
“Would you like some help with this?”
She eyed him with raised brows. “Why would you do that?”
“Just being neighborly.”
“You don’t have a job to go to or something?”
“No, I just arrived this afternoon, remember?”
She shrugged, but still didn’t respond to his question. “So what do you do? Normally, I mean. When you are working.”
“A little of this, a little of that. So feel free to put me to work.”
She studied him for several more moments, then gave a brief dip of her head. “All right. Tomorrow. Now I’m going to get some sleep.”
He rose from the chair and stepped toward the open sliding glass door. “Lock this behind me.” He flashed her a teasing smile, accompanied by a wink. “You never know what kind of riffraff might come through.”
“Yeah, I learned that tonight.”
As she clicked the lock into place, he rubbed his bruised ribs. Whatever came through that door, she could probably handle it.
Copyright © 2014 by Carol J. Post
ISBN: 978 1 472 07334 1
ROYAL WEDDING THREAT
© 2014 Rachelle McCalla
Published in Great Britain 2013
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of Harlequin (UK) Limited
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