by Katie Ruggle
“I’ll protect you.” His tone was completely serious, and he said the words as if they were a pledge. After studying his face for a long moment, allowing the warmth of his offer to spread through her, she nodded and moved to catch up with Theo. Hugh rested his hand on her lower back, and she welcomed the comfort of it. She told herself not to get used to it, though. Saving people was his job. She couldn’t read any more into his actions than that, or she’d just be asking to get hurt. He’d protect her from Martin Jovanovic, but it was up to Grace to keep her heart safe from Hugh.
“Station?” Theo said in a low voice.
“Nope. If LT sees me there…” Hugh didn’t finish his sentence, but from Theo’s acknowledging grunt, he didn’t have to.
“My house?”
Hugh snorted. “Is a closet imitating a house. Let’s go to my place.”
“What time is it?” Grace asked. It felt like hours had passed since she’d stormed out of the diner with Hugh in pursuit. “I have to go to work at eleven.”
“You’re not going anywhere by yourself until we get this situation figured out.”
His resolute tone made her automatically balk, and she opened her mouth to tell him that he was not the boss of her—although in a slightly more mature way—when reason reasserted itself. If Martin or one of his minions was taking shots at her, she didn’t want to be alone. “I can’t ask for a round-the-clock police escort.”
“Ask or not, you’re getting one.”
“You?” A mixture of pleasure and exasperation coursed through her at the thought of being with Hugh twenty-four hours a day. They would most likely kill each other.
“Me.”
As he shot them both a sideways glance, Theo almost looked amused. “At least it’ll keep you busy and off our calls. LT will be happy.”
Hugh’s response—a rude one, judging by his expression—was cut off when Jules came running from the front of the VFW. Barreling into Grace, she grabbed her in a hard hug. “Grace! Oh my goodness! Are you okay? The cops made us stay in the viner until they gave the all clear, so I couldn’t see what was going on. Were you hurt?”
Something about the honest concern in Jules’s voice made tears rush to the surface, and Grace blinked rapidly, forcing them back. There would be no crying on her part until she was safely ensconced at the house with her head under a pillow. “I’m fine,” she lied.
“Are you sure? Did someone actually shoot at y’all? What about you, Hugh? Were you hit?” Jules’s gaze ran over them frantically, as if searching for blood and bullet holes. The realization of what a close call it had been finally hit Grace, and she swayed slightly. Hugh must’ve felt it, because he moved his hand from her lower back to her far hip and tugged her into his side. It was weak of her, Grace knew, but she couldn’t help leaning against him.
“I’m fine, Jules,” Hugh said with a pbbtt sound. “So I got shot at again. It’s happening to me so often lately that it’s sort of becoming old. I wish the people trying to kill me would change it up a little. You know, get creative.”
“Like use an explosion?” Theo asked pointedly. Despite his crabby expression, he reached over and took one of Jules’s hands and tugged her toward him.
“Nah,” Hugh said with a faux-casual shrug. “That’s getting stale, too. Why doesn’t someone come at me with nunchucks next time? Or a chainsaw?”
And that was it. Hugh joking so casually about getting killed made something inside Grace snap. In vivid detail, she saw the table of horrible tools, the bloodstained floor, the tortured men’s battered, swollen features. Now, though, they all had Hugh’s face. Her locked-down tears burst free.
“For goodness’ sake, Hugh!” Jules scolded, rushing to put her arms around Grace and pull her out of Hugh’s hold. “Why do you always have to make everyone cry?”
“What?” Although he let Grace go, Hugh patted her awkwardly on the back and shoulders. “I do not make everyone cry! When have I ever… Okay, so there was that one other time, but twice doesn’t mean always.”
Ignoring his protests, Jules started to usher Grace toward the VFW entrance. “C’mon, sweetie. Let’s go inside.”
“We need to talk to her.” It was Theo’s turn to protest.
“Besides”—Hugh stayed right next to them—“I have to stick with Grace. Wherever she goes, I go.”
For some reason, those words brought forth a fresh round of sobs. Each time she thought things couldn’t get any worse, life laughed and then punched her in the face. Martin Jovanovic had found her, and now she was endangering Hugh. Apparently, the threat of death wasn’t enough to keep the guy away.
Even though she couldn’t decide whether she wanted to argue with Hugh or kiss him again, she did know one thing: the thought of him being killed gutted her. They’d been lucky today, but the next bullet could easily find its mark…right in Hugh’s head.
She’d never survive that.
* * *
“It doesn’t make any sense.” Frowning, Hugh leaned on the handle of the mop he was using. All three K9 cops had come with Grace to the kennel for her shift. To her surprise, Hugh and Theo had pitched in to help clean. It was amazing how quickly the work got done with their help.
Grace was the slowest moving, thanks to Lexi, who couldn’t seem to get close enough to her. Several times, she’d almost tripped over the dog after Lexi had parked her furry self right next to her. It was as if the dog knew that Grace was the one in danger, so Lexi had appointed herself Grace’s personal guardian.
“Except for the fact that I’m a cop handling a dog trained in narcotics detection,” Hugh continued, “there is no reason for Martin Jovanovic to want me dead. He doesn’t even know about me…or Lexi. Why would he try to kill us?”
“Also, you survived both times. From what I know of Jovanovic, he’s not incompetent.” Theo tied off the top of a full garbage bag and then lifted it out of the container without any visible effort. Although the play of his muscles didn’t fascinate Grace as much as if Hugh had been the one flexing, she couldn’t help but watch. A balled-up paper towel hit her on the side of the head, bouncing off harmlessly.
Grace turned narrowed eyes on Hugh. “That better have been clean.”
“It was. Mostly. Now stop drooling over Theo and pay attention to me.”
From his spot in a desk chair by the door, Otto cleared his throat. “Or we can pay attention to this Jovanovic situation.” Instead of helping to clean, Otto had brought out the dog he was training. From what Grace had seen, the Belgian Malinois had a long way to go. Every time someone even thought about moving, the dog flattened herself against the floor in fear. She was currently wedged under the desk next to Otto, who didn’t seem discouraged by his trainee’s antisocial behavior. Every time the dog stuck out her head to peek at them, Otto slipped her a treat.
“I’m sorry.” It was the umpteenth time Grace had apologized since spilling the whole ugly, terrifying story. “If I’d known he would find me so quickly, I’d never have led him here.”
“I don’t think it’s him,” Hugh said. “If it—” Tones from the portable radio on Theo’s duty belt interrupted Hugh. Everyone went quiet, listening as the dispatcher requested backup for a traffic stop. Otto and Theo immediately headed for their vehicles.
“Why is Otto going?” Grace asked, watching as he returned the scared dog to her kennel. “He’s not on duty right now.”
“C’mon.” Instead of answering, Hugh grabbed her hand and started towing her out of the kennel after them. She immediately tripped over Lexi, who’d stretched out in front of Grace, and stumbled forward a few steps before catching her balance.
“Hang on.” When she leaned back against his hold, he stopped, looking impatiently at her, as if she was being unreasonable by not blindly following wherever he decided to go. “What are you doing? You’re on leave, and I’m working.”
With a
n impatient huff, he released her so he could yank out his cell phone and poke at the screen. “Nan? Hugh. There’s an emergency, and Grace is my ride. The kennel’s clean, so we’re going to take off. That okay with you, boss lady? Good. We’ll be here day after tomorrow at eleven.”
The “we” both irritated Grace and made her feel incredibly relieved that she didn’t have to deal with the Jovanovic situation alone anymore. Any gratitude she felt toward Hugh disappeared, however, when he grabbed her hand again and rushed them to her car with Lexi tagging close behind.
“Wait! At least let me lose the coveralls,” she said.
Hugh opened the back door for Lexi to hop in and waited impatiently as Grace stripped off to her street clothes. Once she’d stuffed the coveralls into the back of the Subaru, Hugh headed for the driver’s seat.
“Uh…no.” Using the pointiest part of her elbow, she prodded him aside so she could get behind the wheel. “My car. I drive.”
The corners of his mouth turned up in that ever-present smirk. “Yes, Ms. Cavewoman.” Without any argument, he rounded the front of the car and hopped into the seat next to her. “Just drive fast.”
“I will. As soon as you tell me where we’re going and why.”
“We’re going to the traffic-assist call. Because we’re helpful like that.”
“Aren’t you on leave?”
“Technically.”
“Then why are you going on this call?”
His casual tone took on a serious edge. “Because the assist is actually the responding officer’s way of saying that the Rack and Ruin motorcycle club is about to pass through town—and not on the day we expected them. Those MC guys can be so inconsiderate.”
“So…?”
“So, the highway through Monroe is the most direct route to the ski town of Dresden, known for its scenic views and wealthy vacationers, some of whom really like their high-end drugs. The R and R guys, being the givers that they are, would love to help those tourists in need.” He looked at her and then at the ignition, but Grace didn’t start the car.
“That doesn’t explain why you need to be there.” The thought of confronting a bunch of dangerous, drug-toting motorcyclists made her cringe. “Or me. My new-life resolution is to avoid scary bad guys, not chase after them.”
All humor dropped away, and he met her gaze evenly. “Lex is the only narcotics-detection dog we’ve got. I just want to be close by in case…well, in case we’re needed. You have to come along because I’m not leaving you alone, now that I know Jovanovic is gunning for you.” That irrepressible upward quirk of his lips reappeared. Grace had known he wouldn’t be able to keep it down for long. “Also, you’re my ride. Since my truck blew up and all.”
She studied him. It didn’t sound so bad when he put it like that. They’d be staying a safe distance away from the Rack and Ruin traffic stop, but close enough that Lexi would be there if they needed to use her drug-sniffing skills.
Grace still hesitated, though. The man was good at getting his way, and his way seemed to lead to trouble a lot. Despite that, she trusted him. It probably was an indicator of mental deficiency on her part, but it was still true. Something inside her told her that Hugh would keep her safe, even if it killed him.
She turned on the car. “Don’t make me regret this.”
“Or have to turn this car around,” Hugh joked.
“Damn straight.”
* * *
Silence fell over the car as Grace turned off the kennel driveway and onto the county road that led down the mountain to Monroe. Hugh watched her drive for a few seconds, enjoying the opportunity to look his fill without her snarling at him. Then he started to miss the snarling.
“How old are you, anyway?”
Grace gave him a sideways look before refocusing on the twisting, narrow road. Her hands gripped the steering wheel tightly enough to whiten her fingers. Clearly she wasn’t that comfortable with mountain driving. “Is this another attempt to figure out my birth date?”
“No.” Hugh put as much innocence as possible into his expression as she shot him another suspicious glance. “This is an attempt to figure out why you’re driving like you’re ninety years old. I figured it was possible you might actually be an elderly person with really good genes. Or an excellent plastic surgeon.”
“If I didn’t have to keep both hands on the wheel so we don’t drive off the cliff and plunge to our fiery deaths,” she responded in a conversational tone, “I’d punch you so hard, Hugh Murdoch.”
He couldn’t help it; he laughed. Settling back in his seat, he prepared himself for a lengthy drive to town. At least he got to stare at her. Grace was startlingly beautiful, even when—or maybe especially when—she was making violent threats against his person. That kiss outside the VFW ran through his brain. Until someone shot at them, it had been incredible, and so intense that it had wiped his brain of every logical thought.
Her hair was caught up in an untidy bun, and the lines of her neck and jaw looked so vulnerable. Now that he knew she wasn’t just dodging a scumbag ex-boyfriend—which had been bad enough—but was actually running from the likes of Martin Jovanovic, his protective instincts had kicked into high gear. Although he’d never met Jovanovic, the name was unpleasantly familiar to every member of law enforcement. After all, Jovanovic was like the king of criminals, heading up a crooked empire from his castle in California. The man seemed to have his finger in every sordid pie, from human trafficking to drug running to illegal weapon sales.
When he looked at Grace and thought about how Jovanovic wanted her dead, Hugh was unable to breathe. The weight of it settled heavily on his chest, making it nearly impossible to draw in air. He must’ve made a sound, some kind of strangled attempt at an inhale, because Grace shot him another glance. This time, it was full of concern rather than irritation.
“You okay?”
“Fine.” The word came out rough, but he cleared his throat and ignored it. When he glanced out the window, searching for a distraction from Grace, her hotness, and her ruthless enemy, Hugh saw that they were approaching Baker Street. The Rack and Ruin stop would be six blocks east. “Turn left.”
To his surprise, she did what he asked without question.
“Pull over next to that house with the cedar siding.”
“That’s every house on this block.”
It probably had been too much to ask for her docile streak to last. If he was being honest, he didn’t really want it to. He liked her sassiness. “Not every house. There’s a gray one.”
“That one is gray because it has really old cedar siding.”
“Fine. Just pull over next to that one up there.”
“Which one?”
“The one with the mailbox.”
“Are you kidding me right now?”
He kind of was. It was just so much fun to bait her. “Of course not. Is it my fault that you can’t follow simple directions?”
In response, she snarled at him. If her expression was any indication, she was thinking about punching him. It probably wasn’t in his best interest to provoke her.
A mental image of that earlier kiss jumped into his head, and he shifted in his seat. On the other hand, maybe he did need to get her riled up, if another kiss like that was the result.
Grace pulled the car to the curb with an annoyed lurch. “What next?” she asked.
Abruptly reminded of the reason they were lurking on Baker Street, Hugh reached for his door handle. As soon as he opened his door, he could hear the rumbling of unmuffled motorcycle engines. Even though he wasn’t part of the bust, adrenaline still flooded through him, making everything sharper and brighter. He surged out of the car.
His leg chose that moment to protest, and he had to grab the top of the door to keep from sprawling on the street. He scowled down at his thigh, mentally cursing the injury. Because of that
stupid gunshot wound, he was on the sidelines of what could be a huge bust. Frustration warred with caution, and caution lost. It usually did with him. “Let’s get a little closer.”
Ignoring Grace’s is-that-really-a-good-idea look, he leashed up Lexi. By her eager, ready posture, the dog was obviously feeling the same excitement he was. As she climbed out of the car, Grace looked significantly less enthused than Lexi. She locked the doors, and Hugh snorted.
“What?” Despite her aggrieved tone, she fell into step with him.
“City girl,” he teased, even as thoughts of where he could see the action while still keeping Grace and Lexi out of harm’s way coursed through his mind. There was a squatty printing shop right off Main Street with a sturdy, climbable tree right next to it. The view from the shop’s roof should be perfect if the other officers had stopped the R and R convoy where they’d been planning to do the bust a few days earlier. “We don’t lock our cars around here.”
“Then what’s to stop people from stealing loose change out of my cup holders?” she asked with mock seriousness. Hugh loved that she could banter with him, that she didn’t ignore him or get offended, but gave it right back to him. “I’m a minimum-wage earner now. Every penny I get from cleaning up dog poo is precious.”
“See that house?” He tipped his head toward a—what else—cedar-sided house. The almost scarily perfect condition of the yard distinguished it from its slightly sloppier neighbors. “That’s Mr. Wu’s house. If anyone even dared lay a hand on your car, much less steal a literal dime from your poo stash, Mr. Wu would be in his front yard, taking video on his cell phone. It doesn’t matter if it’s two in the morning. Mr. Wu takes his neighborhood watch duties very seriously.”
“Makes your job easy,” Grace said, although he noticed that she didn’t make a move to unlock her car doors.
His grin broadened. “That he does. I wish every neighborhood had ten Mr. Wu clones. This way.”
Grabbing her hand, Hugh turned on Deacon Avenue, moving faster and faster until they were almost trotting. His thigh gave a warning throb, but he ignored it. Although Grace was right next to him, he didn’t release her hand. It was pathetic of him, but he was willing to take any opportunity to touch her. Hugh was inordinately pleased when she didn’t try to pull away.
