“My experience of family is a little skewed,” she admitted softly.
“I know that, honey,” he said. “But I like to think of that as drawing board. A place where you can erase the things you don’t like, build on the ones you do and work toward something just short of perfection.”
“Not actual perfection?”
“It’s a family. Perfection doesn’t exist.”
She stared at his profile, searching for a hint that he was kidding around. But even from the half of his face that she could see, Nadine could tell that he was serious.
“So if I said I wanted six kids...” She trailed off and waited for him to jump ship.
His mouth just quirked a little. “Then I’d tell you that we probably need something bigger than my apartment. Or yours. Of course, since yours is a rental, it won’t be that hard to give up. And being right in the heart of Freemont City, mine’s worth a little something if I sell it.”
“That’s your plan, then? Meet a girl. Fall in love at first sight. Plan a life before the weekend is even over, sell your apartment and buy a two-story with a white picket fence?”
“Do they have white picket fences here in Whispering Woods?”
“Why? Is this where you want to settle down?”
He shrugged. “I like it here. Aside from Garibaldi, of course.”
She exhaled, wondering how Anderson kept making her forget about the man. “Once he’s no longer a factor?”
“Your job is here.”
“But yours isn’t.”
“I suspect there’ll be a few openings on the Whispering Woods PD when this all straightens out. And there’re already some spots at the fire department. I could handle the change.”
“How do you even know that?”
“I had to fill the hours I spent sitting outside your door somehow.”
“You’re completely insane.”
“Possibly.” He gestured out the front windshield and pulled the car over to the side of the road. “We’re here.”
Nadine brought her gaze up. Even though they were still one street over, she could easily see the short row of five-story buildings. Their flat gray roofs poked out from over the tall fir trees that lined the road. She had to admit that, compared to the Whispering Woods Lodge, the accommodations had little curb appeal. But they were far cheaper. And functional. Run by a property management company, the apartments were—for the most part, anyway—short-term seasonal rentals. People booked the fully furnished suites by the week or even the month during the two major tourist seasons. Since it was only the end of May, they were also pretty much empty. Nadine herself had only intended to stay until she was able to work up the courage to go through her mom’s place. Now, of course, that wouldn’t be a factor.
She swallowed against the sudden rawness in her throat, and she was glad when Anderson spoke, providing her with a distraction.
“Remind me of Harley’s big plan for sneaking in,” he said.
“See the second one?” she asked.
“Yep.”
“It’s hard to tell from the outside, but it shares an underground parking lot with my building. Harley said the entrance gates are wired together, too, and that my code will work. So we just drive in.”
“And we assume that no one will spot us?”
“We assume that they’re looking for your truck, specifically, and that they won’t know the two lots connect. It was news to me, and I’ve been renting there for over a month. And on top of everything else, they’re looking for a couple. I’m going to be lying flat on the back seat.”
Anderson sighed. “I somehow still don’t like it.”
Nadine undid her seat belt and leaned over to kiss his cheek. “That’s only because it was Harley’s idea. If it was your own, you’d be thrilled with the whole thing.”
He was silent as she clambered into the back seat, but once she was settled, he turned to face her and sighed again. “You know that I trust him utterly.”
“I do,” she agreed.
“Harley and the other guys...they’re like brothers to me. We started out as friends because our dads were buddies at work. But when they died together, our friendship evolved. No matter what else goes on in our lives, this one thing connects us. It’s always superseded everything else. We go for beers. We talk about the case. We have Christmas dinner. We finish it by talking about the case.”
Nadine propped her head up on her hand and studied him, wondering why he was telling her this now, in such a serious voice. She didn’t have to ask. He let out a breath and spoke again, this time sounding fierce.
“I’m ready for it to be over,” he said. “I’ve put everything I have into this case. Everything into solving my dad’s murder. I’ve never thought twice about that until now. A day with you, and I know I want more than that. It’s something I’ve never considered before. And forgive me for sounding weak, but honestly...my head says I can protect you long enough to make a hundred percent sure it happens. My heart, on the other hand, is a little scared.”
Nadine sat up and reached out to squeeze his shoulder. “Anderson.”
His other hand came up and closed on hers, his touch as raw as his tone. “What if this is the one time Harley is wrong?”
“He won’t be.”
“I know that. I know he wouldn’t risk your life even more than I know he wouldn’t risk mine. But my heart...” He let her hand go to press his fingers to his own chest.
Nadine placed her palm over the back of his hand. “My heart says everything will be fine. The universe didn’t throw us together just to rip us apart.”
For a long moment, he was silent. His blue gaze was warm with emotion. Hope and trust. Worry and affection. Everything Nadine felt, reflected back at her.
“I love you, Anderson,” she said, the words bursting out before she could think to stop them.
Anderson’s eyes widened, and then his mouth tipped up. “Now who’s the hopeless romantic?”
Nadine’s face heated, but not in an unpleasant way. “Shut up.”
“Seriously, though. I was really hoping to say that first.”
“Then I guess you should’ve been a little faster.”
“I could try being a little more thorough instead.”
“I don’t think anything gets more thorough than those three words.”
He raised an eyebrow, and her blush deepened.
“That’s not what I meant,” she said.
“Uh-huh.”
“Are we ever going inside?”
“In a second.”
“What are we waiting for?”
“This.” He brought their clasped hands to his mouth and issued a gentle kiss on each of her fingertips. “I love you, too, Nadine.”
Hearing him say it made her chest expand in a perfectly sweet burst of pure joy. A perfect moment in a far-from-perfect situation.
Chapter 15
Doing things with ease always made Anderson wary, and—even with the fact that he was riding high from exchanging those three all-important little words with Nadine—entering the apartment building with zero interruptions was no exception. By the time they’d successfully punched in Nadine’s pass code, made their way through the underground parking lot to her building and stepped from the concrete structure into the elevator, Anderson was tense with apprehension. When the light overhead dinged an announcement that they’d reached the right floor, he all but jumped.
“Let me go first,” he said.
“Sure. You’re the man with the g-u-n,” Nadine replied.
Her attempt at levity did nothing to ease Anderson’s nagging concern that something was off. He leaned cautiously into the hall, his hand at the gun on his hip. A glance left and a glance right showed nothing but an emptiness. He took a step out of the elevator. Then another. Nadine followed so clos
ely that he could feel her warmth against his back, and when a light, unexpected jingling noise carried through the air, she bumped right into him with a gasp.
Anderson shifted automatically, trying to position himself so that he could see her and still shield her. “What’s wrong?”
“That noise... Those are the bells that hang from my door.”
He swiveled his head toward the end of the hall, drawing his gun out silently as he did. Her unit was the very last one on their right. There was no sign of movement at all, but the angle at which they stood allowed him only a view of the frame rather than the door itself.
“Feel like breaking into an empty apartment to hide out?” he asked in a low voice.
“Not in the slightest.” Nadine’s reply was a whisper. “And even if I was in the mood for a little B and E, I have no idea which units are rented and which aren’t. Or which ones have cleaning or maintenance scheduled. Or—”
“Okay. I get it. No breaking and entering, no hiding out.”
“Good.”
“I’m kinda wishing you had your own gun.”
“I had a gun. Your friend Brayden took it.”
“Probably wasn’t strictly legal, then.” He continued to stand still, his eyes fixed in the direction of her apartment.
After a silent pause, Nadine asked, “Are you stalling?”
“Yep.”
“Why?”
“Hoping that we startle the hell out of whoever’s in there. Surprise is always our friend. And the hallway gives me a clear shot. Can’t say the same for inside an apartment.”
The bells chimed again, this time managing to sound a little ominous. Anderson tensed and readied his weapon. The tip of a man’s dress shoe came into view. It stayed just at the edge for a second, then disappeared again. An odd tapping sound carried out from the apartment.
Then Nadine exhaled, the breath full of relief. “Mr. Fitzgerald.”
As she said the name, an older man inched into the hallway, his cane first. Wariness still present, but true concern fading, Anderson quickly tucked his gun back into its holster and followed Nadine toward the stranger, assessing the man’s appearance.
Fitzgerald could’ve been anywhere between seventy and a hundred. From the top of his sparse but tidily combed hair to the pleats in his pants, he was the epitome of graceful aging. His face cracked into a wrinkled smile directed toward Nadine, and he held out his free hand in anticipation of Anderson’s approach.
“David Fitzgerald,” the man greeted. “Neighbor.”
“Anderson Somers. Boyfriend.”
Anderson clasped his fingers and was surprised at the firmness of the shake; it seemed at odds with the man’s otherwise frail exterior. Fitzgerald seemed to read his surprise perfectly.
“Don’t let appearances fool you, son,” said the old man. “Got a busted knee, but the rest of me works just fine.”
“Especially his brain,” Nadine added. “He beat me at chess, crib and Scrabble all in the first weekend that I moved in. But I’m not sure why he’s added sneaking into my apartment to his list of clever tricks.”
Fitzgerald’s smile turned to a frown. “Weird thing. I came out to grab the paper and saw that your door was open. Thought maybe you’d come home from the care facility earlier than expected and left it open by accident. Gave a knock and didn’t get an answer, so I stuck my head in. Don’t know why, but something felt off. You know that feeling?”
“I do,” said Anderson.
The old man turned his way. “I’m guessing you probably do. Anyway, couldn’t quite shake it. I took a pretty thorough look through the whole place.” He brought his attention back to Nadine. “Apologies if that was an invasion.”
“It’s fine by me, Mr. Fitzgerald. I appreciate the concern, actually,” she replied. “But what if someone had been inside?”
“Then I would’ve taken him down with my weapon.” He lifted his cane and shook it a little.
“Or gotten yourself killed,” Nadine scolded.
“Well. At least I would’ve gone down fighting. But not to worry too much. No one’s in there. Was still thinking about giving the police a call right as soon as I got back to my place, though. Just in case.”
“Thanks, Mr. Fitzgerald,” Nadine replied.
“You want me to call now?”
“I think I’ll be okay. The door probably just got left open when the cleaning lady came by. I’ve had some issues with the latch.” She patted Anderson’s arm. “And besides that...I brought reinforcements home with me.”
Fitzgerald gave Anderson another once-over before nodding approvingly. “All right. But if he needs my help, you just call.”
“You know that I will.”
The old man turned and moved with near-painful slowness up the hall. When he reached his door, he lifted his cane in a salute, then disappeared into the apartment. As soon as he was out of sight, Anderson turned a worried eye toward her slightly ajar door.
He dropped his voice low again. “You think Mr. Fitzgerald is right about there being no one in there?”
“You know as well as I do that there’s nowhere to hide in my place.” She shook her head as he started to protest. “Don’t deny it. I know you came and helped yourself to a look around.”
He offered her a rueful shrug. “Should I apologize for being invasive?”
“I would’ve said yes to that question a mere forty-eight hours ago.”
“And now?”
“I know you were doing your job. And as long as you didn’t steal any underwear from my drawer, we’re good.”
“Whoops.”
She rolled her eyes and grabbed his hand. He let her tug him into the apartment, and as she closed the door behind them, he couldn’t help but note that the latch had no problem.
She caught his raised eyebrows. “What?”
“The cleaning lady did it?”
“It worked.”
“Sure. But why didn’t you just blame the butler?”
“Ha-ha. There is a cleaning lady,” Nadine said. “The property management company has her do all the apartments once every two weeks.”
“But not yours.”
“No. I prefer to do it myself. I didn’t want to worry Mr. Fitzgerald.”
She slipped off her shoes, and Anderson followed suit, scanning the apartment even though she was right about the lack of space to hide. The living space was tiny. A bachelor suite. It had no separate bedroom, a single closet that didn’t even have a door and all the appliances looked like they’d shrunk a size or two. Even the furniture was bare minimum. There was a futon frame that doubled as a couch and bed, a coffee table that was also a kitchen table and a squat dresser that housed the TV.
“I’ve made a decision,” Anderson stated.
“About what?” Nadine replied.
“We are definitely not living here. I think if I cleared a spot on the floor and stretched out, starfish style, I’d be able to touch all four walls at once.”
“That’s what makes it so easy to clean on my own.”
He sobered and ran his eyes over the small space again. “Someone was in here. You should probably look around to see if anything’s missing.”
“I don’t have anything really valuable except my laptop.”
She sank down onto the futon and dragged the coffee table drawer open, then pulled out a soft-sided computer bag. A quick zip, and she had it open. The shiny black computer sat conspicuously inside.
“If they didn’t take this,” she said, flipping it open, “then they probably didn’t take anything else.”
“You don’t keep anything about your dad or brother lying around?” Anderson asked.
Nadine tapped her forehead. “All up here. Just like Mr. Fitzgerald.”
“That’s a good thing.” The gut, something’s-wrong feelin
g came back.
Her eyes came up to meet his. “So why do you sound like you just swallowed something awful?”
“How do you feel about taking the computer somewhere else? We should check to see if it’s been tampered with before we send the pictures to Harley.”
“We can do that from here, can’t we? And even if they got into my computer somehow, there’s nothing to find. Cat videos and a cleared web browser.”
“I still think we should go.”
“I don’t understand. I can’t see Garibaldi’s guys coming back to the apartment anytime soon. They’ve got no reason to think we’re here. And they left empty-handed the first time.”
“You wanna argue, or trust me?”
She made a face. “I can do both.”
He eyed the door. “I’ve had a bad feeling ever since we stepped into that elevator.”
“Do I have time to get changed?”
“Two minutes.”
“So very generous of you.”
“Hurry.”
Anderson waited as patiently as he could manage as Nadine slipped from the hotel-themed clothes into her own jeans and T-shirt. Really, though, he was distracted enough by the churning in his gut that he couldn’t even take a moment to enjoy watching her strip down. The need to move quickly overrode even that. It was all well and good to admire her barely clothed form, but he really didn’t want it to be the last time he got a chance to do it. When she was finally ready—dressed and with the laptop bag slung over her shoulder—Anderson could feel the tension in every part of his body. He didn’t waste any more time.
“Stairs,” he said, pulling her into the hallway.
“Okay,” she agreed with a frown.
A brisk walk brought them to the heavy fireproof door at the end of the hallway. Anderson held it open for her. Once she’d stepped through, he paused to give the utterly empty corridor a final glance.
Maybe he was overreacting, he said to himself, releasing his hold on the knob.
Then the telltale ding of the elevator came to life. And just before the door swung shut, he caught a glimpse of two officers in uniform, and he knew his gut had been screaming at him for a damned good reason.
Undercover Protector Page 17
