Beauty and the Badge

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Beauty and the Badge Page 4

by Julie Miller


  So she had no family here to lean on. “What about a friend? Or boyfriend?”

  “No time for that, remember? The only people I’ve gotten to know are coworkers, and Hank across the street from us. He’ll be dead to the world until he puts in his hearing aids in the morning. And I don’t think I want you to call my boss over a bump on the head.”

  “That was way more than a bump on the head. So who’s coming to take you home?”

  “I’m not your problem anymore. I’m sure you have work in the morning and I don’t know how much longer this will take. You don’t need to stay.”

  “Who will you call?”

  “Bossy and persistent.” She shrugged. “I guess I’ll call a cab.”

  “Kevin Elijah Grove.” Miriam’s quavery voice echoed inside his head. “Always do the right thing, son. Even if it’s hard. Serve your purpose. Be a man.”

  Kevin silenced the voice by pulling off his coat and planting his butt on the stool in the corner of Beth Rogers’s room. “Lady, I’m staying.”

  Chapter Three

  “Thank you, Officer…Taylor?” Beth quickly hid her confused frown as the compactly built, uniformed officer who’d just hammered a pair of two-by-fours over her busted back doors turned to face her.

  The dark-eyed Latino cop zipped up the front of his leather jacket and grinned. “I get that look a lot, ma’am.” He winked. “I’m adopted.”

  “Oh.”

  “That plastic tarp I pulled from your garage ought to keep the worst of the cold out. Hope that was all right.”

  “That’s fine.” Exhausted as she was, it was easy to match the young officer’s smile. “Thank you for making the place habitable until I can get to a hardware store tomorrow. Later today, I guess.”

  “No problem, ma’am.”

  Beth stood rooted to the spot as Officer Taylor crossed to the countertop bar between her kitchen and dining room to pack his hammer and leftover nails in the toolbox he’d brought in from his police cruiser. Despite the damage to her French doors and her own body, the motive for her attack remained unclear. Taylor, who’d been watching the crime scene since Kevin Grove had called it in, was of the opinion that her arrival had interrupted a burglary. Even though nothing appeared to be missing, he’d found her jewelry box emptied out on her bed at the far end of the house. And in her home office just across the hall from her bedroom, her computer tower had been disconnected from the monitor and knocked over, while the drawers of her desk had been pulled out and emptied into a mess on the floor. The television and sound system in her living room hadn’t been touched. It was as if she’d come home just as the would-be thief’s systematic room-to-room search had gotten under way. The lone CSI who’d come to the scene had taken pictures and dusted for prints, but, finding no one’s fingerprints but hers, backed up Beth’s recollection that the intruder had worn gloves.

  In short, as crimes went, KCPD was of the opinion that Beth had dodged a bullet. Either through incompetence or poor timing, the man inside her house had stolen nothing more than her peace of mind.

  To her way of thinking, it was violation enough. Along with her sense of security, her determination to strike out on her own and pursue a career and lifestyle her rural upbringing couldn’t provide had been rattled.

  The big, brooding presence of her reluctant rescuer had a lot to do with that unsettled feeling as well. While she appreciated Kevin Grove’s thoroughness in giving her house and garage a personal inspection, there was something about the man that disturbed her equilibrium. Maybe it was the cold, matter-of-fact way he ordered the CSI to take the bloody shovel where she’d cut her head into the lab—to make sure it was the fall, and not the deliberate use as a weapon, that had put the six stitches in her head.

  Maybe it was his abrasive lack of charm that he seemed to use to deliberately mask his better qualities—like refusing to leave her alone for the past four hours while she was injured and afraid, or personally inspecting every door and window on her house to make sure it’d be a damn sight harder to break in a second time. He was finally coming around to being a good neighbor—if not exactly what she’d call a friend. That was all she wanted, right?

  Or maybe the uneasiness she felt at having Kevin Grove moving through her small home had more to do with her than with the man himself. Yes, the sheer bulk of him seemed to swallow up the space when he entered the room. Yes, his tough, busted-up features took some getting used to, and could never be called handsome. But there was something so indescribably masculine about his size, his scent, the depth of his voice, that it awakened something undeniably feminine in her. Beth barely knew him, yet she was quite certain that she’d never met anyone who was more man before.

  Despite her headache, despite her fatigue, despite her misgivings about Kevin Grove—she jumped when the door to the garage swung open and the burly detective strode into her kitchen. He tossed the tape measure he carried to Officer Taylor, who caught it and dropped it into the toolbox before latching it shut.

  Detective Grove nodded to the younger officer. “You were right. I measured about six feet from the bottom of the steps. Definitely not a fall.”

  Taylor nodded as he pulled on his black knit watch cap with the KCPD logo on the front—just like the borrowed one Beth had put back on over her own bandaged head. “It’d take a strong man to throw a person that far.”

  “Or someone with a lot of adrenaline pumping through him.”

  “You want me to put a general description on the wire?” Taylor asked. “There hasn’t been any activity at the house or on the street in the couple hours I’ve been here. Not even a curious neighbor.”

  Because she was already the topic of conversation, Beth stepped forward to join the conversation. “Most of the people around here are retired. There are a couple of families with young children, too. So nobody keeps late hours, especially with all this snow and ice.”

  Detective Grove’s dark amber gaze swung over to hers, perhaps finally understanding why, even though he’d been a stranger, she’d sought him out. They were the only two single, young adults on their block. As such, they were the only two people who’d been up so late. He was destined to be her savior tonight.

  And as much as he aggravated her patience and pulse, she was grateful.

  If Alex Taylor was aware of the silent communication going on between them, he didn’t comment. Instead, he picked up his toolbox and headed for the front door. “I can hang around awhile longer, see if anybody who doesn’t fit shows up in the neighborhood again.”

  Detective Grove followed him through the living room to dismiss him. “I imagine our perp is in the wind. I’ll keep an eye on things tonight and take care of the paperwork in the morning.”

  “Very good, sir.” The black-haired officer hesitated at the door. Like Beth, he had to tilt his head to look Grove in the eye. “I’ll e-mail you my observations for your report, but I wanted to let you know that I’ll be starting my SWAT training after Christmas. I expect you’ll want to turn this break-in over to a uniform division, but you’ll have to assign it to someone else. I’ll be available as a consultant if they need me, though.”

  “I appreciate it.” Maybe Beth shouldn’t have been so surprised when Kevin Grove reached out to shake hands. While still snapping orders like a superior officer, he’d been far more talkative and friendly with his KCPD coworkers than he’d been with her. “You’ve got one hell of a family tradition to uphold, but I have no doubt you’ll be a rock star at it. Good luck with SWAT, Alex.”

  “Thank you, sir.” Alex Taylor nodded to Beth. “Good night, ma’am. Take care.”

  “Thanks again. Good night.”

  With a blast of wintry air, he walked out into the night. Kevin Grove pushed the door shut and turned to face Beth.

  Now that it was just the two of them, the silence of the night outside crept in through every pore of the house. The detective pulled back the front of his knee-length wool coat and propped his hands on his hips in a stan
ce that framed the badge hanging from his neck and gave her a glimpse of the gun holstered at his waist. He was all cop, all business, his scowling presence as unsettling as Officer Taylor’s friendly demeanor had been reassuring. But nothing could be as unsettling as things were about to get once he followed Officer Taylor out the door and left her alone in a home that no longer felt like her sanctuary.

  Beth took a few hesitant steps across the wine-red carpet. Her pulse throbbed nervously beneath the wound at her scalp.

  Kevin Grove shifted on his feet. His mouth thinned into a grim line.

  Beth tucked a wisp of hair behind her ear and felt the nubby knit of the black cap she still wore. Oh.

  “I suppose you want your cap—”

  “I didn’t find any other signs of—”

  They blurted their words together, fell silent and waited for the other to speak.

  “Keep the hat,” he finally said.

  He probably wouldn’t want it back with her blood staining the lining of it anyway. Beth moved another step closer, pulling the sweater she’d changed into more tightly around her middle. “I was wondering if you’d found any answers since you’ve been here. Was he after my things? Or me.”

  “You’ve got good locks on your windows, all the doors are sealed tight.”

  “That’s not an answer.”

  His long coat drifted back around him as he reached up and scrubbed his fingers across the stubble on his jaw. The weary sigh that lifted his shoulders belied the piercing intensity of his eyes. “I can’t promise he won’t be back to finish whatever he started.”

  “I know. You won’t promise anything you don’t know to be a fact.” Her effort to force a smile fell short. “Have I mentioned how lousy you are in the public relations department?”

  “More than once. Here.” He dug into the deep pocket of his tan coat and pulled out her cell phone. “It’s a little worse for wear, but it still works.”

  “You found it.”

  “Underneath your lawnmower.” His long stride matched two of hers as he met her halfway and laid the scratched-up phone in her hand. Beth squeezed it tight. A little normalcy had just returned to her life. Comfort and self-assurance should follow soon enough. She hoped.

  “And take this.” He pulled a business card from the leather wallet behind his badge, and slipped that into her hand, as well. “It has the precinct number as well as my cell. If you remember anything else, if you find something is missing, you can call.”

  Tipping her chin up to hold his gaze, Beth hugged the card and phone to her chest. She wasn’t too tired to smile after all. “I promise I won’t bother you in the middle of the night again.”

  He dipped his head a fraction, shrinking the distance between them. “‘Bother’ me if you come home late again and sense that something here isn’t right. If I don’t hear you, Daisy will.”

  “You want me to rouse Daisy the thunder dog again? Won’t she try to eat me?”

  “Trust me. She’s part mastiff, part pit bull and part couch potato. Not anywhere as mean as she looks or sounds.”

  Beth’s eyes fixed on that whiskey-brown gaze, looking beyond the angles and rough masculinity of his face. Were there any similarities between the dog and her owner? There was nothing soft or safe-looking about Kevin Grove. And yet, despite insult and inconvenience, he’d gone out of his way to take care of her tonight. How wrong would it be for her to take that last frightened step and burrow into the warmth emanating from his chest? How strange was it for her to want that intimate connection with her gruff, sarcastic, make-no-bones-about-anything neighbor?

  “You were my knight in shining armor tonight, Kevin.”

  “No, I wasn’t,” he corrected. He straightened, his warm eyes chilling as if she’d uttered a curse. “I’m just a cop doing my job.”

  He’d been more than that. More than a medic, more than a police officer taking down her report. Was being nice evidence of weakness to him? Did he think his kindnesses to her might dilute his tough-guy image?

  As if.

  “Well, Mr. Cop…I’m going to thank you anyway. For everything.” Beth held out her hand. He stared down at the brave appendage, as if he couldn’t quite remember what the gesture of friendship meant. Or didn’t trust it. Beth waited, hand outstretched. “Don’t be rude.”

  He blinked and angled his gaze back to hers, a trace of amusement shading the amber depths. “There’s no audience.”

  “No, there’s not.” She wiggled her fingers to show she wasn’t retreating. “I’m not on the verge of falling down or passing out either. Take it.”

  “Now who’s bossy?”

  “Please.”

  After a momentary hesitation when she thought he might just be callous enough to turn and walk away, he slowly folded his hand around hers. Kevin’s palm was broad and warm, his fingers slightly ticklish as they slid over her skin to secure his grip. Beth silently caught her breath at the unexpected assault on her senses. Her sensitive fingertips brushed across the nearly invisible golden hairs on the back of his hand and prickled at the contact. The size and strength of his hand surrounding hers was no surprise. But the suppleness of movement, the gentleness of his touch, sent ribbons of heat up her arm that spread through her body and warmed her deep inside.

  The two of them didn’t shake hands so much as they stood there at arm’s length, eyes locked—squeezing their fingers lightly around each other’s grip, memorizing the other person’s touch, absorbing heat.

  “He won’t be back to finish anything tonight, Beth.” Kevin’s hushed, articulate tone quickened the fire flowing through her veins. “I promise you that.”

  “I believe you.” With eyes that serious and a voice that sure, how could she not?

  Holding on to Kevin Grove was weird. Wonderful. But his sharing anything more than professional concern was probably a complete manufacture of her frightened, weary imagination.

  Having made her point about manners and gratitude, Beth pulled away before her unplanned attraction to the cop next door evolved into something that could embarrass one or both of them. “You know, among civilized people, the standard reply when someone says ‘Thank you’ is ’You’re welcome.’”

  The sardonic arch of his brow made her question the sincerity of his answering smile. “Lock the dead bolt behind me.”

  She didn’t really think she was going to tame her beastly neighbor with a single handshake and a smile, did she?

  Without so much as a “Good night” or “See you later,” he pulled on a pair of black leather gloves and stepped outside. He waited on the porch until she’d locked the door knob and slid the dead bolt into place. Beth peeked through the side window to see him pause on the top step and turn up the collar of his coat. He still wore that bulldog-ish grin when he glanced back over his shoulder. After a curt nod, Kevin Grove moved beyond the light from her porch and plunged into the snow.

  Once he hit his own front steps, Beth turned off the porch light and rested her forehead against the doorframe. “You’re not as scary as you look, detective.”

  But the charged warmth of her interactions with Kevin Grove quickly dissipated, leaving Beth almost too exhausted to stand. With the end-of-the-year board meeting looming on the horizon, Dr. Landon would need her at work tomorrow—accident or no. Besides, she didn’t want to spend any more time than she had to at home until she could shake the irrational fear that some stranger was still lurking about the place, watching her.

  She’d better try to get a few hours’ sleep.

  With the doors all locked up tight, Beth managed to drag her feet down the hallway to get into her pajamas. When she went to brush her teeth, she got her first good look at her pale reflection in the mirror.

  “Yikes.” No wonder Dr. Rodriguez-Grant had suspected some kind of abuse.

  Pulling off the black KCPD watch cap, she turned her head to get a better look at the blue-violet welt on her cheekbone. The white rectangle of gauze and tape covered the stitches along her h
airline and most of the dark brown hair at her temple. If it weren’t for her bangs and the bruise and those pesky freckles across her cheeks, she’d have no color at all on her face. Instead of a strong, twenty-five-year-old career woman, she looked like some kind of unfortunate waif.

  And she’d thought Kevin Grove’s appearance was shocking. With a humorless laugh, she pulled the cap back on, savoring its toasty warmth. She must have taken a pretty good blow to the head to think that there was some sort of chemistry between them. He really was just a cop doing his job.

  And she was a woman who really needed to get some sleep so she could do her own work in a few hours. She’d been damn lucky to get the position at GlennCo. Her title might be executive assistant now, but Charles Landon had also recommended her for the pharmaceutical giant’s executive development program. She was already working behind the scenes with the highest echelon of company leaders. By the time she learned all they had to teach her, she’d be finished with the formal training program. In two years’ time—three, tops—she’d be hiring her own assistant for the office she was in charge of.

  As long as she didn’t let anything like an attack in her own home, a puzzling new neighbor or lack of sleep derail her.

  Fighting off the fatigue for a few minutes longer, Beth put her computer back together and sat down in the mess of her home office to log on and send an e-mail to her boss. With her apologies, she told Dr. Landon that she’d had an “accident”, a late night at the E.R., and that she wouldn’t be in until noon.

  After logging off, she dragged herself across the hall, set her cell phone beside the business card on her bedside table, and finally crawled into bed, pulling the quilts up to her chin. She closed her eyes and lay there for a few minutes—breathing deeply, picturing images of all the positives in her life, willing herself to relax. She had a healthy family back in central Missouri, a fast track to career success and fuzzy socks to keep her feet warm under the covers. Her Christmas shopping was nearly done. She wanted to go down to the Plaza to pick up some stocking stuffers and a special book for her nephew. But she’d enjoy that—seeing all the Christmas lights and storefront window displays. The stores and restaurants would be open late this time of year—she could even relax with a mug of gourmet hot chocolate. She was going to be all right.

 

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