by Julie Miller
No, no, no, no, no. He couldn’t just disappear like that. Beth stretched up on her toes and scanned the pedestrians in front of the store. But there was too much movement, too many people, to see beyond the first few standing between her and the man. She hurried to the edge of the sidewalk to peer between cars parked at the curb. Her gaze darted up and down the street. He could have gone into a store, climbed inside a vehicle.
But she knew he was hiding, watching her right now.
Why? What had she done? What did he want with her?
“Ma’am?” Beth jerked her attention to the woman’s voice at her side. “Did you lose someone?”
Then again, maybe she was the only one paying too much attention to the other people around her.
“No.” Beth dredged up a smile. Holding a little girl in her arms, the woman probably thought Beth had lost a child. “I’m fine. I just couldn’t remember where I parked.” She came up with the quickest lie she could think of. “I thought it might have been towed, but I remember now. Thanks.”
“Merry Christmas.”
“Merry…Christmas.” It was a lousy delivery to a kind soul who’d only been trying to help. She waved to the little girl as they walked away.
Before she dropped her hand, Beth touched her gloved fingers to the edge of the bandage in her hair and massaged around the spot, easing the phantom pain that suddenly throbbed there.
She was crazy. That was it. She was crazy from lack of sleep and stress at work. “Just go home,” Beth advised herself. “Just go home.”
Bracing her resolve against the cold and her irrational fears, Beth quickened her pace. The crowd thinned as she left the shops and night spots behind and crossed over to the block housing the parking garage. Soon she was no longer weaving between strolling couples and nighttime revelers. And by the time she passed around the garage’s automated entry gate, the trio of shoppers she’d been trailing had opened the trunk of their car to load their packages inside. With a polite nod, they climbed into the car and Beth was left to walk the rest of the way to her Jeep alone.
Or not.
A flurry of movement from the corner of her eye drew her attention. Beth turned, looked. Breathed again. Just the wind catching a drift of snow and blowing it through the sidewalk railing into the garage.
Yet Beth’s imagination wouldn’t let it go. She had that feeling again. Interested eyes boring holes into her back. Unblinking. Watching.
“Stop it.” No one had followed her into the bookstore. No one was following her now.
But the quick thump of her heart couldn’t drown out the scrape of footsteps on the concrete a few yards behind her.
Beth picked up her pace, pulling her keys from her pocket and locking them between her fingers. A quick three-sixty revealed nothing but cars and concrete and the street beyond. Keep walking.
Thankfully, she’d found a spot on the ground level, but it was on the third row in, farther from the sidewalk and the crowds. The footsteps kept pace with her stride, but there was no one behind her. She reached the striped crosswalk leading to the back rows and crossed to the next driving lane between parking spaces.
Another whisper of movement, darker than snow, stopped her in her tracks.
Black coat. Black stocking cap. Dark eyes. A faceless figure walking straight down the middle of the driving lane. Toward her.
Her Jeep was right there, four cars away. But the dark figure kept coming. She could get inside, lock her doors.
No. Not enough time. Beth quickly reversed course.
The footsteps followed.
“Help!” Fear poured into her veins. She broke into a jog, shouted through the echoing steel and concrete. “Help me!”
Ignoring crosswalks and warning signs, she zigzagged through the cars and ran straight for the railing at the edge of the garage.
The footsteps grew louder, moved faster.
Beth hoisted herself up onto the railing, swung her legs over. The shadow rushed up behind her as she dropped down onto the other side. The frozen sidewalk jolted through her shins and knees, throwing her off balance. But the pain was irrelevant. She forgot her bag, ignored her purse, pushed to her feet.
Head for the lights. Find people. Run.
“Beth?”
Oof! She smacked right into a wall of tan wool and tweed.
She shoved herself back, opened her mouth to scream. But a wonderful smell—of musk and man—and the familiar contour of a once-broken nose stole the sound from her throat.
“Kev?” She mouthed the word, her relief so intense she felt lightheaded.
“You want to tell me what those phone calls…?”
Beth never heard the rest of the question. She thrust her hands inside his coat and wrapped her arms around Kevin’s waist, pulling herself closer and closer, until she could bury her nose in the nubby weave of his jacket and feel the heat of his body.
She couldn’t hear the footsteps behind her anymore—only her own frantic breathing and the steady beat of Kevin’s heart beneath her ear.
“So that rule about not grabbing only goes one way…. Well, hell, lady.” She felt the stiffness leave his body more than she heard his surrendering sigh. He folded his arms around her and lowered his chin to the crown of her hair, sealing her in a cocoon of strength and warmth. “It’s nothing, my ass.”
KEVIN WONDERED IF HE WAS ever going to lose the imprint of Beth Rogers’s body clinging to his. She’d been a perfect fit with her arms wound around him, her head tucked beneath his chin.
She’d trembled against him, smelling of cold and garage fumes and fear. She’d held on to him as if her life depended on it, clutching fistfuls of his jacket and shirt at the middle of his back. And when he’d cupped his hand behind her head and tried to ease some space between them, she’d burrowed against his heart and held on even more tightly.
Even through the bulk of her coat and clothes, he’d felt breasts and hips and needy fingers. Her breathing evened out and she whispered his name. Once. Twice. When she did finally pull away, she looked straight up into his eyes and said, “I’m so happy to see you.”
Then, when they went to pick up the items she’d dropped and find out what had spooked her, she took one of his hands and held on with both of hers. Every step of the way.
Heady stuff for a man whose last physical encounters with women had involved fainting and a slap in the face.
“You’ve ruined me, Grove,” Sheila had accused outside the private hearing room. “I could lose my license to practice law because of what you said in that hearing.”
“You ruined us,” Kevin had stated matter-of-factly, refusing to waste one more emotion. “You damn well ruined me.”
Sheila Mercer was still practicing law. Kevin Grove no longer had faith in women or relationships. Not anymore.
But looking across the table at Café Geno’s into the animated features and wholesome beauty of Beth Rogers, he wished he could trust what he was feeling right now.
There was certainly a logical explanation for clutching and snuggling and “Hold me, please.” Even though he’d seen no one in the deserted garage after she finally explained what she’d been running from, Beth’s fear had been real enough. He wore a badge. He was solid. And he was there. Reasons enough for a pretty woman to want to cling to him.
He just had to remember that it was a matter of luck that had made her turn to him twice in two days. She’d needed a cop, needed an ally—and he just happened to be the guy who’d shown up at the right place at the right time. And she seemed to be a genuinely nice person—polite enough to offer to buy him a cup of coffee as a way of saying thanks tonight. She’d invited him to Café Geno’s, probably as much to give herself a chance to warm up and get her rattled nerves back under control, as to repay him for showing up when she had no one else in the city to turn to.
No matter how his senses sharpened into focus around Beth Rogers, no matter how his body perked up the way any other healthy man’s would when she threw all those
curves against him—no matter how something territorial and protective thrummed through his veins at the notion of another man harming or terrorizing her—he’d be a fool if he thought the soft smiles and hot coffee meant anything more than neighborly friendship or gratitude. And Kevin Grove was no fool.
When the waitress came to their booth and dropped off their ticket, Kevin automatically reached for it. Keeping the whole “friendship only” caveat in mind, he intended to go dutch treat.
Beth reached across the table and lightly smacked the back of his knuckles, pulling the ticket from his fingers. “I said I was paying.”
“You invited me for coffee. Not the slice of pumpkin pie I demolished along with it.”
“Are you kidding me?” She pulled her purse onto her lap and dug through the deep, accordion-fold pockets. “You think I can’t afford coffee and pie?”
“I didn’t want to overstep my limits or make you think this was some kind of—” date.
“Oh, Lordy.” She paused the search and frowned at him. “I’m sorry. I should have offered you dinner, not a snack. A big man like you? You were working, weren’t you. You probably haven’t eaten since lunch.”
“Try breakfast.” Her eyes rounded, but he put up his hands and silenced her before she could get out another apology. “I’m not complaining. Trust me, between moving and work, I haven’t been eating dinner until late at night anyway.” He pushed aside his empty plate. “This pie was my lunch.”
“Great. Now I feel really guilty.” She dived back into her purse to retrieve her wallet and straighten the items left behind. “I suppose I’ll have to cook you a meal.”
“I wasn’t hinting—”
“I don’t do gourmet or anything, but my brothers think I’m pretty good.”
“You don’t have to—”
“Do you like cookies? That’s usually how I repay Hank when he rakes leaves or clears my sidewalk and driveway. That old man has such a…sweet tooth.” Her hands and mouth suddenly stilled. Twin lines of confusion appeared between her brows.
Answering a concern he didn’t want to feel, Kevin braced his elbows on the edge of the table and leaned in. “Beth?”
Holding it by the key ring attached to it, she pulled a small, black plastic computer memory stick from inside her purse and held it up for him to see. “I think someone’s trying to gaslight me.”
Gaslight as in make her think she was crazy? “Why do you say that?”
She dropped the flash drive onto the table as if the key ring had given her a tiny shock. “That wasn’t in my bag an hour ago—not when I checked out of the bookstore.” She shoved it farther away and withdrew to hug her arms around her purse. “When I stopped to watch the window display at Harzfeld’s, I got bumped in the crowd and thought someone was trying to rob me. I checked to see that my wallet was still there and then I left. Instead of taking something, whoever it was must have slipped this into the outside pocket.”
“That’s not yours?”
“No.”
Kevin used his napkin to pick it up by the key ring and dangled it beneath the light over their table. Beyond the manufacturer’s logo, there were no markings. He couldn’t even tell if it held music, data or anything at all. “Did you see anyone suspicious?”
“I don’t know. There was a younger couple. The man with the black coat and hat.”
“Who followed you into the garage?”
“Who must be a figment of my imagination because nobody else saw him.” With a disgusted huff, she sank back in her seat. “Not even you.”
Ignoring the subtle gibe at his earlier skepticism, Kevin inspected the tiny device from every angle. If there were prints to be had, he couldn’t see them. “Do you think this came from the same man who attacked you?”
“I don’t know. There were so many people in the crowd. I suppose anyone could have put it there.”
“And you don’t recognize it?”
“No, I…” Energized by a sudden thought, she sat forward and snatched the case from his hand. “My boss said he’d misplaced a flash drive at work. This is the same brand we use—but the one he wanted would have been labeled. Besides, I turned my office inside out looking for it after lunch…” Her energy dissipated along with the sparkle in her eyes.
“What?”
She slid the memory stick back into the outside pocket of her purse and, for a moment, Kevin thought she wasn’t going to give him the explanation he’d demanded. “I almost called you this afternoon. I think someone searched through my office some time last night or this morning.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I knew you were at work, that I was a pest and that you didn’t get much sleep last night.” She shrugged and reached for her mug of coffee with cream. “Anyway, I finally decided my boss must have gone through my desk and files looking for the electronic copy of the research he misplaced.” Cradling the mug between her hands, Beth took a sip. “He’s been acting kind of weird lately.”
“Weird, how?”
“Absent-minded. Troubled.” Her peach-colored lips parted to tell him more. But then she smiled away the barrage of questions he’d been asking. “You work major cases, remember? You don’t have to solve anything for the crazy lady next door who imagines things. After last night, apparently anything and everything frightens me.”
“Listen, lady.” When Kevin lowered his voice and leaned in, her eyes dilated. With anticipation? Attraction? Fear? But to her credit, the woman didn’t back away. “I worked two homicides today. Two old men with their guts cut out of them. You’ve got no idea what crazy is. Now talk to me.”
Her soft gasp was the only warning he had before she reached out and covered his hand where it rested on the table. “Kev, that’s awful. I’m so sorry. Are you all right? If people are dead, you shouldn’t be worrying about me.”
Was he all right? Hell, he’d just been doing his job. Still, the chatter of the other customers, the bustle of waitresses hurrying past, faded to a pair of compassionate gray-blue eyes and a strong, warm hand covering his own meaty paw.
“Can’t help worrying.” He’d already revealed more than he should. What harm could there be in twisting his fingers to squeeze her hand before pulling away? “So quit wasting my time and talk.”
She answered his intimate touch with a sweet smile and the hard places around his heart began to turn to mush. Tough guy. Ha. His conscience mocked him, but he ignored the internal taunt and steeled his gaze, suspecting the hardening of his expression wasn’t putting her off the way he intended. Certainly, nothing was stopping her mouth or the nimble way she steepled and laced and busied her hands while she talked. He wondered if it was nerves or excess energy that made those hands so eager to move and touch.
He wondered what it would feel like to have those supple fingers dancing across more than the tough skin of his hand.
Well, hell. Kevin shifted in his seat, putting the kibosh on the interest stirring south of his belt buckle.
Once he’d settled again, he listened silently as Beth recounted her boss’s freak-out over the missing drug research data, and the odd sense that she was being targeted somehow—though for what reason, she couldn’t say. “I wonder, if someone thought I had taken that research out of the office, then that could explain going through my clothes and purse when I was unconscious. My attacker was trying to retrieve it.”
“What’s wrong with the research?”
“What’s wrong?” She bristled up, curling her fingers into fists. “Nothing’s wrong. Dr. Landon needs the data for our semi-annual board meeting. GlennCo is a successful, reputable company. We do thorough clinical trials on every drug before we put it on the market.”
“That’s the company line. Is your Dr. Landon in the habit of accusing you of theft when he can’t find things?”
“No.”
He could see that loyalty to GlennCo, or at least to her boss, ran pretty deep. “If there’s no problem, then there’s no need to nearly kill you
to get that information back.”
“He didn’t try to kill—”
“Somebody did. You passed out in my arms, lady. You could have bled out or suffered a brain hemorrhage if you hadn’t had the gumption to drag yourself through the snow to my front porch.” Kevin drank the last of his coffee and set the mug on the table, still holding it as he made his point. “I told you I don’t mince words.”
“I can appreciate honesty, but you know, sometimes you scare me.”
“I scare a lot of people.”
Her exasperated sigh whispered clear across the table. “I think you do it on purpose. So people don’t see there might be a nice guy lurking beneath the surface. Didn’t anyone ever teach you subtlety? Or manners?”
Kevin released the mug and leaned back against the bench seat. “My grandma taught me how to get along with people just fine.”
Her eyebrows arched with surprise. “You have a grandmother?”
“No, I was spawned from a puddle of goo.” Beth laughed. Not his intention, but for a moment, Kevin figured he must be a pretty good guy to make her do so. This was dangerous ground he was walking on with her. Despite the traitorous clench of muscles on either side of his mouth, he should not, could not, share in her laughter. “Yes, I have a grandmother. She’s in a nursing home. She took care of me when my mother left. Now I take care of her.”
“See? You’re not so tough, Kevin Grove. You have a sense of humor.” She opened her wallet and set her money with the ticket at the edge of the table, continuing the conversation as if they had a reason to get better acquainted that went beyond late-night attacks and missing flash drives and his own growing certainty that nothing Beth had shared had been a figment of a skittish imagination. “This grandmother raised you?”
“Taught me to be honest, straightforward—be a man.”
“She succeeded. Maybe you could use a little refinement around the edges, but she sounds remarkable.”
“Miriam is.” Few people in the world would believe how 98 pounds of sass and love and a strict set of rules could turn an unwanted boy into a 250 pound man who put away bad guys for a living. “I’ve also learned the hard way that, um…” Well, hell. Why was he telling her this? But the words came out, unfiltered, anyway. “I’m pretty blunt because I don’t want anything I say or do to ever be misconstrued again.”
