by Julie Miller
“Me, neither.” This morning’s encounter had certainly been nothing like her previous experience from college days. Kevin was a mature, virile man—not a boy in any sense of the word. And though her body ached from the sheer intensity of it all, she felt wickedly female and completely satisfied.
For one crazy hour, all the troubles in Beth’s life disappeared across the snowy landscape outside her window. She was cocooned in the haven of her own home, her own bed, her lover’s arms. This morning, there was only Kevin, only the weight of his body sliding over hers, only the keening pleasure of knowing that being with him made clear, perfect sense.
Later, he gathered her to his chest, pulled the covers over them both, and they slept.
“WHAT THE HELL is that?”
Not exactly the romantic good-morning greeting Beth had been dreaming about.
Once the startle of Kevin’s curse zapped its way through her system, Beth was awake enough to realize the covers had been jerked down to her waist and he was sitting up on the side of the bed, staring at her bedside table. By the time the first shiver at the rude exposure to the house’s morning chill registered, the weird electronic feedback from her alarm clock music was grating against her ears, as well.
“Sorry.” Facing a wall of broad male back, she pulled the covers up to her chest and climbed onto her knees to reach around him and turn off the music. “It’s been playing those annoying overtones for a while now. I’m guessing something’s broken, or it’s just getting worn—Kevin!”
He grabbed her wrist and stopped her from reaching past him. “How long has it been doing that?”
She looked down at the immovable hand, then up at his dark face, which was in dire need of a shave and a smile. If a bolt of lightning struck the air around them right now, she’d be back in that sci-fi nightmare of their first meeting on his front porch.
“I didn’t realize it was that late.” Feeling a need to appease this sudden stranger in her bed—and despising that he could bring fear back into her life just as surely as he’d erased it—Beth twisted her arm from his unresisting grip and scrambled off the bed. She pulled the afghan from the foot of the bed around her and backed toward the open door. “I’d better get my butt in gear or I’ll be late for work. I’m going to hit the shower, okay?”
With little more than a nod of acknowledgment to her, Kevin turned off the dissonant sound himself and then pulled the music player from its port.
Yeah, it was good for me, too, you big goof, she wanted to throw at him. But she kept her smart mouth closed and shuffled down the hall toward the bathroom. Whatever Kevin’s problem was this morning, she hoped it had nothing to do with her. Still, a little tenderness would have gone a long way toward assuring her that sleeping with him hadn’t been a freaky, one-time deal. She’d thrown herself at a man who’d made it clear he didn’t want to get involved with a woman—that he didn’t trust relationships.
Daisy was in the hallway to greet her with a lick of Beth’s hand, and a rub against her legs that knocked Beth aside a step. “Are you trying to tell me something about your guy?” she asked the dog. With a rueful smile, Beth led Daisy to the French doors and put her out in the back yard. “Go easy on him, hmm?”
Maybe tenderness the morning after just wasn’t Kevin’s way. Maybe he’d already given her all he had left in him to give.
Several minutes later, after Beth had straightened the bathroom vanity to eradicate the evidence of what they’d done in there last night, she blew her hair and stitches dry, wrapped a towel around her from chest to thigh and stepped into the hallway. She could hear Kevin on his cell phone out in the living room.
“…to sweep the house, Atticus. I can’t tell you why yet, but I’m beginning to have an idea. No. I’ll take care of it.”
So, he was back in cop mode. The man she was falling in love with—her anchor through all this madness—was turning into a real Jekyll and Hyde. She’d gone looking for a protector that night she was attacked. She should be happy he was still willing to play that role for her. But it left her feeling a little melancholy to think that something which could have been pretty amazing between them was already slipping through her fingers.
“I’ll call you back.” She knew the moment he’d spotted her, padding down the hallway to her bedroom. “Beth, wait.”
Keep it casual. Don’t pressure the guy. “I’m running late. I expect you need to get to work, too.”
His arm snaked around her waist from behind and he hauled her up against the wall, pinning her there with his body.
Of all the…She swatted his chest in frustration. “Grabbing? Scaring? Hello—?”
When he covered her mouth with his hand to silence her, she was well and truly frightened. He wasn’t pinning her after all. He was shielding her. From what?
Beth was marginally aware that he’d put on his jeans again and had holstered his gun at his belt. She was more aware of the press of rough denim against her thighs as her suddenly skimpy towel rode up her body. But she was completely aware of the dark warning written in his eyes, right next to the apology stamped on his fearsome features.
She nodded, understanding the request to keep quiet, and he slowly freed her mouth, brushing a wisp of hair off her cheek as he removed his hand. Her eyes tilted up and locked onto his, begging for an explanation.
“Get some clothes and whatever you need for a couple of days.” His deep voice was barely a vibration against her ears. “You’re coming over to my house.”
“What?” She mouthed the question.
He settled his hands in a gentler position at her shoulders and rubbed up and down the length of her arms, soothing her, apologizing. “I’m falling down on the job, lady.”
She shook her head, denying it. But he stepped to the side and peered for a quick moment into her office before quietly shutting the door. Then his hand was on her cheek again. “There’s a hidden camera in there,” he whispered. “That’s why the power light on your computer won’t go off. It’s running. There’s a listening device in your bedroom—that’s what was causing the feedback. I suspect your whole house is wired to watch you. Probably what that sicko was doing in here the night of your attack—setting it all up. I should have discovered it. I didn’t even think to look.”
“But I…we just…” She pointed to her bedroom and felt the heat leave her body. Humiliated—violated—afraid, Beth hugged her arms around her and leaned into Kevin’s chest.
“I know.” He hugged her tight for a moment, then kissed her hair and pushed her away. “That’s why you’re coming with me.” He hunched his shoulders to look her straight in the eye. “I don’t know how long they’ve been watching you—or what they hope to find. But it stops now.”
“THEY’RE ONTO US.” The big man had foolishly driven out to his house that morning instead of waiting for a more secure after-hours meeting in the board room.
Somewhere along the line, their simple plan had gone very, very wrong. Now he’d been forced to bring him into the security room on his estate where a wall of television monitors gave him access to key areas of his home, lab and office building—and other points of interest—like a plain beige ranch house in the suburbs of Kansas City. “I told you to get inside that house and remove every trace of your first visit there.”
“I couldn’t just strong-arm my way in—that cop was there. Grove is major case squad at KCPD. If you’ve been monitoring the mics and cameras, then you’d know that.”
“Maybe he’s just the boyfriend.” Even though the house had been dark, there’d been no mistaking the sounds of healthy entertainment that had gone on in the wee hours of the morning. He’d been looking for more evidence that Elisabeth Rogers had been trying to open files on an encrypted GlennCo disk. And while his gut told him that disk contained a copy of the incriminating research data, after replaying hours of surveillance recordings, his own eyes had told him she hadn’t been the one to type the blackmail letters. “Grove’s interest in Miss Rogers cou
ld be purely personal.”
“You don’t believe that.”
“No. I don’t. Grove and Kincaid are the detectives working the body dumps you made on our failed research patients. Maybe he’s using Miss Rogers to get to us. After all, Charles was using her to get the information out of the building.” He picked up the remote and scrolled from one monitor to the next, trying to pick up any sign of what Elisabeth and Grove were up to next. But the house had gone quiet. Even the noisy dog was gone.
“Hey.” The big man deigned to touch him. “I’m not willing to kill myself the way Landon did to get out of this mess. I’ve already got the blood of two men on my hands. You tell me how to fix this.”
He pulled his sleeve from the big man’s grip and tried to think of the best course of action. They still had a blackmailer out there whose identity continued to elude him. A blackmailer who’d be gravely disappointed if he found out a second copy of the research which proved Gehirn 330 had killed two of the patients it had initially helped was out there in the hands of a lowly secretary who was boinking a cop.
But Raymond Glenn couldn’t afford to have anyone make public the results of the company’s failed research. His fortune and position as CEO depended on it.
What if he stopped looking for a blackmailer, and let the blackmailer turn his focus on the competition—Elisabeth Rogers? Let one problem flush out the other. And if he kept a close enough eye on Elisabeth, then he’d be there when the blackmailer showed his hand. And he could kill two birds with one stone.
Kill being the operative word.
“Well?” the big man prompted.
He’d made tough executive decisions before. It was time to make one now.
Raymond looked at Tyler James and issued an order. “I want you to accompany me to the bank and then make a drop-off for me. I’m going to be cashing a one-million-dollar check as the first installment of payment to our friend.”
“You’re kidding me. You’re giving in to that bastard’s demands?”
He held up a hand to silence his man. “And then I’m going to enclose a courtesy note with the cash—alerting our blackmailing friend that he has competition for ownership of our secret.”
Tyler smiled. He was getting it now. “And you might happen to let Elisabeth Rogers’s name slip into that note?”
He nodded. “Don’t approach her until the time is right. I don’t want to tip our hand. But do not let that woman out of your sight.”
“Yes, sir.”
They’d eliminate them both. The cop, too, if he got in their way.
Chapter Nine
Beth had tried every argument she knew to convince Kevin to let her go in to work today so that she could run the flash drive on the GlennCo computers again to see if she could get a more useful grasp on the information it contained. Information she was certain Charles had wanted her to uncover—while someone else did not.
The offices would be short-staffed.
No.
She knew Dr. Landon’s files and schedule better than anyone and would be able to find anything the police might need in their investigation into his death.
No.
There’d be people around the building, including security guards, and wasn’t that the best deterrent to anyone who might want to follow her, spy on her, harm her again?
Kevin shrugged into his navy tweed jacket and turned to the mirror over his dresser. “You said they’d be short-staffed,” he countered. “Not much of a deterrent in a building as large as GlennCo’s.”
Beth pulled a sweater from the moving box it had been jammed into, shook it out and proceeded to fold it into a loose square, smoothing out the wrinkles as she spoke. “Well, a few people is better than no one, right?”
He picked up the tie he’d laid out on the dresser and looped it around his neck. She shouldn’t be enjoying the process of watching him groom himself and dress, transforming from big, bad monster man into big, bad cop so much. She was good and frustrated with him for asking her to remain a virtual prisoner in his home unless he or someone he trusted could be with her.
“What if I go to the police station with you?” she suggested.
His hands stilled at his collar and his gaze turned inward for one gloomy moment before he snapped back to the room and her and not letting her leave the house. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Because of Sheila? Will your friends judge you because you’re mixing police business with a…” What exactly was she to Kevin? “…a friend? Will they think you’re using me just to solve a case?”
“My friends won’t,” he answered, indicating there might be others at KCPD who would question Kevin’s motives for helping her. Or her motives for getting close to him. But neither was the excuse he gave her for staying away from the precinct offices today. “I’ve got some gruesome business to attend to this morning—talking to the M.E. from the crime lab. You don’t want to be there for that.”
Daisy snored, belly-up, on the dog pillow at the foot of Kevin’s bed. One last argument to try. “Are you sure I’ll be safe here? She’s clearly not a guard dog.”
“She sounds like one. Keep the doors locked and don’t let anyone in—she’ll scare ’em off.”
“She about scared me off that first night. Who knew she just wanted to say hi and find out if I’d brought her a treat.”
His big hands made surprisingly quick work of knotting the tie. “If it makes you feel safer, I asked Hank to watch the house. And I’ve already called Alex Taylor—that young officer who patrols the neighborhood—to swing by a few extra times and keep an eye out for anything suspicious. He’ll be here in two minutes if you need anything. I’ll be here in twenty.”
Fine. So the only thing that could really scare her today were the demons that could haunt her from her own mind.
Beth set the sweater on the bed and reached into the packing box for another. “Then what am I supposed to do all day? I don’t want to go back to my own house until the crime scene team finishes sweeping for bugs. And even then, I don’t know that I can ever shake the idea that someone’s still there, watching me.”
His gaze locked onto hers in the mirror. “I won’t let that happen.”
She wanted to believe him. But, “I don’t feel safe when I’m alone anymore. I know I sound like a coward…”
“No.” He turned and covered her fingers around the collar of the sweater, squeezing to stop their frenetic movement. “That sounds smart. You sound like a survivor.”
She turned her hands into the security of his solid grasp and summoned a wry smile. “I wish I felt like one.”
“Tell you what.” He released her to slide his holster and gun into place on his belt, cinch it snug around his waist and then tuck his badge into his chest pocket, making the transformation into one of Kansas City’s finest complete. “Can you keep yourself occupied for half a day?”
She’d seen the under-reconstruction bathroom before he’d gone in to shower and shave. “Do you have cleaning supplies?”
“I didn’t bring you over here to fix up my—”
“Yes, I can keep myself occupied.” Half a day of frustration being alone with Daisy the giant, snoring wonder beast, might be the best bargain she could make.
“Good. Then I’ll be back at lunch and I’ll take you to meet someone.”
“Who?”
His craggy features curved with a grin. “Dig a little deeper in that box.”
The rare smile was contagious. “I didn’t think you played games.”
“Just dig.”
Beth quickly emptied the box until she found a small picture frame at the bottom. After she gently unwrapped the paper around it, she discovered a photograph of a petite woman with short, snow-white hair and a bright, mischievous smile. Although she barely reached his chest, the older woman stood proudly beside a somber Kevin in his dress blue KCPD uniform. “Is this your grandmother?”
“Miriam Grove.” He plucked the silver frame from her hands a
nd set it with great reverence on his dresser. “You’d be doing me a favor if you could entertain her for the afternoon. Make me feel a little less guilty about leaving either one of you alone so much.”
How could she resist Miriam’s smile? How could she resist meeting the one person who might be able to tell her about the real Kevin Grove? How could she pass up the opportunity to ask if her neighbor in battered armor had once been a prince before false charges and heartbreak had hardened him into the complex, cynical man he’d become?
Beth wanted to ask if there was any chance of finding that prince inside him again.
“Deal,” she agreed. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll stay put until lunch.”
Beth stood at the front window, peeking through a hole in the blanket covering it, watching until Kevin’s SUV disappeared around the corner at the end of the block. She scratched behind the ears of the dog leaning against her thigh, finding what comfort she could in Daisy’s acceptance of her as a friend.
But there was no real comfort to be had when the man who’d given her a job and trusted her with something more dear than his own life was dead. There was no comfort in knowing someone had broken into her home so he could watch her every move, hear her every word 24/7, without her even realizing it. Was she such an idiot that she hadn’t known someone was spying on her? Was she such a little speck of unimportance in the world that a stranger thought he had the right to take that kind of advantage of her?
Shivering with a sudden chill, Beth leaned back a little against Daisy’s muscular strength and glanced down the street in the opposite direction. Her Jeep was still parked in her driveway. Hank’s truck was parked in front of his house. There was the Dixons’ car, the Logans’. In fact, there were any number of vehicles sitting in driveways, warming up, or parked along the street that she recognized.
Or did she? Had she seen that truck parked in front of the Lentz home before? Was that red car new to the neighborhood? Was that Brenda Campbell all bundled up, scraping the ice off her windshield? Was there a man sitting in that car? A face at the window across the street?
