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The American Temp and the British Inspector

Page 17

by Pat White


  “No.”

  “Police think she developed the hallucinogenetic drug used on the victims. I also suggested to local police that Kreegan caused our original forensics expert’s car accident.”

  “All that for revenge?”

  “Grief and anger will drive people to do crazy things. We also suspect her injuries from the false attack were caused when the Cooper boy escaped. He knocked her about pretty good. Oh, and police found the victims’ drivers’ licenses at her house.”

  “Kept as trophies?” Jeremy asked.

  “Apparently. And she set up Barker as the murderer.”

  “And killed him. How convenient.”

  “Quite.”

  “How’s your girl?” Jeremy said.

  Max held his gaze. “Cassie is recovering.”

  “I want an invitation to the wedding. I’ve earned it.”

  “I wish I could accommodate you.”

  Jeremy struggled to sit up. “You’d better put me on the bloody guest list.”

  “I can’t,” Max hesitated. “I won’t allow her to marry into this violence. I care too much for her.”

  “You’re running away from the best thing that’s happened to you.”

  “Did they make you a psychiatrist while you’ve been in here?”

  “That girl wants nothing more than to take care of you for the rest of her life,” Jeremy said. “She’s crazy about you and you’re pushing her away?”

  Max stood and paced to the window and back. “You didn’t see her. She’s black and blue, she’s got stitches.” He motioned to his forehead. “I won’t put her through that again. She’s too fragile.”

  “Are we talking about the same woman? The woman who saved you from a serial killer?”

  “Aren’t you listening? I won’t be responsible for her getting hurt.”

  “Bloody hell, Templeton, stop being responsible for the entire world. She’s a grown woman. She makes her own decisions. For some insane reason, she’s decided to love you.”

  “Ah, I can’t talk to you.” Max started for the door.

  “You’re going to have to talk to me. We’ve got another assignment.”

  Max hesitated, turned, and went to the foot of the bed. “We?”

  “You can’t fire me if you’re not my boss. Wouldn’t want to miss out on that, would you?”

  “Tempting.”

  “A ten-year-old boy has gone missing on the Oregon coast. Background is being sent to the command center. We’ll leave as soon as I’m released. Should only be a day or two. Mostly bruised, nothing serious.”

  Jeremy could tell the inspector’s mind had already started listing questions about the boy’s disappearance.

  “How about it?” Jeremy taunted.

  “I’m leaving now.” Max marched out of the hospital room.

  “Excellent,” Barnes muttered to himself. Now if he could only trick Max into marrying his pretty little assistant.

  HE COULDN’T HELP himself. Max opened the envelope and glanced through the contents. Photographs of a little blond boy tugged at his heart.

  Missing. Lost.

  He studied the photograph, the boy’s blue eyes calling out to him. They were young and hopeful, tinged with sadness.

  They reminded him of Cassie’s eyes.

  He snapped the file closed. When she’d first started working for him he’d read melancholy in her eyes, but she’d covered it well with her smart-aleck comments and a sharp attitude. He’d bark orders, snap, even insult her at times. He’d been so devastated by his lost career and hovering madness. The only thing that relieved him was taking out his anger on the rest of the world.

  He’d been brutal, for sure, and she’d taken it, and had given it back to him. She was tough all right. As the months passed the sadness had dissolved from her eyes, replaced by determination and even self-confidence. The more he’d dish out the more compassion she’d toss his way, like water on a flame.

  For the first time in months, he’d been able to think straight, get his frame of reference, and lead a murder investigation.

  Cassie had helped heal his wounds and brought him back to life. She’d even forced him to think about things, admit that he couldn’t run from his madness anymore. The only way to heal was to face it head-on, which he felt strong enough to do with her by his side.

  Because she was strong, compassionate…

  …and she loved him. She’d said so at the hospital.

  Suddenly he knew what he had to do.

  THE CAB pulled onto Cleveland Street and Cassie held her breath. Could she really do this? Knock on Mom’s door after a year and a half? God, she was nervous, her palms sweating as she pulled a ten-dollar bill from her backpack.

  She paid the cab driver and stepped out of the car. Standing on the sidewalk across the street, she studied the house, wishing that Max was with her.

  Silly girl. She could do this on her own. She’d committed to doing everything on her own since her divorce.

  Then she’d fallen in love with Max and it had seemed okay to share the burdens of life with another human being. The man she loved.

  “Save that for Seattle,” she said, knowing she could only deal with one highly emotional issue at a time.

  Out of the corner of her eye she spotted someone get out of a car. She glanced up.

  Max.

  Frozen in place, she watched him walk across the street to her. The movement was fluid, as though his cane was a perfectly normal part of his body. He’d finally accepted it, she could tell.

  He smiled. “Good afternoon, Miss Clarke.”

  He was here, supporting her when she needed him most.

  “How about a little encouragement?” he said.

  He pulled her against him and kissed her. A sob caught in the back of her throat. It was okay. Max was here, kissing her, offering encouragement and support.

  And she welcomed it.

  “I have something for you.” He held out a shiny gold locket, similar to the one she’d lost in the abduction. “I thought you might want a replacement. For luck.”

  “It’s beautiful,” she said.

  “Sorry, but I couldn’t find fairy dust to put inside.”

  “That’s okay.” She wrapped her arms around him and squeezed. God, she loved this man.

  “I’m scared,” she said.

  “Of seeing your mum?”

  “What if she can’t forgive me?”

  He gripped her shoulders and looked into her eyes. “She loves you, Cassie. When someone loves you, they forgive you.” He glanced at the ground. “I hope.”

  She studied his eyes. Did he mean…?

  His gaze drifted up to meet hers. “Can you forgive me for being a complete idiot and pushing you away?”

  “I love you. What do you think?”

  “I think it’s time I meet your mum.”

  “Me, too.”

  ISBN: 978-1-4592-2260-1

  THE AMERICAN TEMP AND THE BRITISH INSPECTOR

  Copyright © 2007 by Pat White

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.

  All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.

  This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

  ® and TM are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Trade Marks Office and in other countries.

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  *The Blackwell Group

  Table of Contents

  Acknowledgement

  About the Author

  Books by Pat White

  Cast of Characters

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Copyright

 

 

 


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