Catch Him

by Doyle, S

  Catch Him

  S. Doyle

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Excerpt from The Bad Assassin

  Copyright © 2016 by S. Doyle

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

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  Chapter 1

  Sinead O’Hara pulled up the driveway in her police cruiser and thought it was either a false alarm or she was staring at the world’s stupidest criminal. She’d gotten the call regarding a house alarm that had been triggered, and she’d cruised down the tree-lined street in Mill Valley, California to the address dispatch had given her.

  As she drove past the smaller ranch houses spread along the quiet street she thought it crazy how much people actually paid to live here.

  Everyone knew real estate around San Francisco was insane. Until someone was driving past a thousand-foot-square house listed for almost a million dollars, a person didn’t really appreciate it.

  While she had her lights on, she’d left the sirens off out of respect to the neighbors. It was after midnight, and while this house was set back up off the street with a little separation from the homes on either side, she didn’t feel she needed to add to the blaring noise that was already coming from the house.

  Besides, it wasn’t like she was going to have to actually chase this guy, as the potential perp was calmly sitting on the front stoop.

  She approached him cautiously, as she would any suspect.

  The man stood with his arms in the air. “Don’t shoot, officer. Please.”

  Sinead immediately detected an accent. British, she decided, because he sounded like Darcy from her favorite Pride and Prejudice movie.

  “Sir, is this your home?” she asked, thinking maybe he’d gotten drunk and tripped his own alarm—which was the case most times when this happened.

  “It is not. I’m house swapping with a mate, and as you can see he obviously gave me the wrong passcode to his alarm.”

  “Can you get this mate on the phone to confirm?”

  “Sadly, no. He’s on holiday for the next few weeks and totally unreachable. I do, however, have various bits of proof of my innocence.”

  Sinead moved closer to him. With only the moonlight and the glare of light from inside the house shining out through the door, she could see the man in front of her was spectacularly handsome. Like James Bond handsome. Like Jude Law handsome.

  No, even better.

  Like Charlie Hunnam handsome. Charlie who was Jax on Sons of Anarchy so no one really knew he was British, because he had such a good American accent. However, it being Sinead’s favorite show, Jax being her favorite character, she’d done her homework on the man.

  In case she ever met him and he wanted to marry her.

  That’s how handsome this guy was. Not that it mattered if she had to arrest him for breaking and entering, but still.

  He pointed behind him and Sinead could see some pictures on a foyer table. Then he handed her a picture he’d been holding.

  “What am I supposed to do with this?”

  “You can see us together,” he explained. “There, that’s my mate Garrett and that’s me.”

  She was looking at two handsome men in tuxedos smiling stupidly into a camera. She thought even drunk he was still hot.

  In truth, Sinead was probably standing too close to him. But as she looked at the picture and he pointed out his face, she couldn’t help but smell the faintest hint of his aftershave.

  Delicious.

  Dangerous.

  “Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to take a step back.”

  He complied immediately. “Oh yes, sorry. I was just trying to prove I know the man who owns this house very well, as I was in his wedding.”

  “Obviously not well enough for him to give you the correct passcode.”

  “I’m certain he screwed up. Maybe forgot he changed it. Look, I have a key.” He reached for his pocket and immediately Sinead reached for her weapon.

  “Goodness, we’re back to the shooting part of this,” he said as he removed the key from his pocket and held it up so she could see it for what it was. Then he carefully laid it down on the ground.

  Sinead assessed the person in front of her. As a cop, even if it was the sleepy suburb of Mill Valley, she was expected to rely on her instincts. Her instincts about this guy said he was a non-threat. If he had been breaking and entering, he certainly wouldn’t have stuck around to wait for the cops. If he was telling the truth, the key and pictures were a pretty good indication he knew the person who owned the home.

  Beyond that, Sinead wanted to stop the screeching of the home alarm. “Is there a land line inside?”

  “I’m sorry a what?”

  “A phone that’s not a cell phone.”

  “Oh yes, right here in the foyer. I’ve already tried calling the security company, but they require the same code I obviously have wrong. I told them I could probably answer some security questions, but they insisted I wait for the police to arrive. Now here you are. You can hit the last number dialed to ring them.”

  Sinead picked up the phone and did as he said. Sure enough she was on the phone with the security company. She gave them her badge number, verified she had interviewed the suspect. Then they asked her a series of security questions.

  Her suspect was able to answer the town the home owner had been born in, his first pet’s name, and his mother’s maiden name. At that point the security company remotely switched off the alarm and the silence was a relief.

  “Thank goodness,” the man said. “I thought I was going to go deaf from the blasted noise.”

  “Do you have some identification?” Sinead asked.

  “Of course.” He reached into the back pocket of his jeans and pulled out a wallet. He fished out his driver’s license and handed it to her. Sinead looked at the picture, which if it was possible looked even more handsome than he was in person. Seriously, who took a good driver’s license picture? She compared it to the wedding photo.

  It was good enough for her.

  Sinead handed him back the license and the photo. “I would see about reaching out to your friend as soon as possible. You’re not going to be able to arm the security system until you know the passcode.”

  “Right. I’ll find some way to track him down.”

  She looked up at him and realized she was wrong. He was even hotter than Jax, if that was possible. Tall, lean but solid. A face that would make a woman cry, with golden brown hair that was probably a little too long and yet just perfect. Some scruff around his jaw that made him look human. Because other than that stubble around his chin, she would have said he had the face of an angel.

  “Yes, ma’am. Miss. I’m sorry. Officer. I really can’t thank you enough, if for no other reason than sparing my hearing.”

  He reached his hand out to her, and while it wasn’t really protocol she couldn’t stop herself from being cu
rious about this handshake. Her father told her a man could be assessed in seconds by how he shook a person’s hand.

  Tight, firm, but not overly aggressive. He didn’t pander to her because she was a woman with a weak hold. He didn’t squeeze her hand to show how much of a tough guy he was.

  “I should introduce myself by the way. I’m David Whitmore, and you are Officer S. O’Hara. Please enlighten me, what does the S stand for?”

  “Sinead.”

  “Lovely Irish name. Do you spell it correctly?”

  Sinead smiled. Her name was pronounced Shi-nade but it was in fact spelled in the traditional Gaelic. An annoyance her entire life anytime anyone tried to sound it out phonetically. When she went to Starbucks and they asked for her name, she usually told them Kate. It was easier.

  “Yes. I do.”

  “Very good, I approve tremendously.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I’m sure my father will be thrilled to know you approve of how he named his daughter.”

  David laughed and when he did, she could feel the sound vibrate through her body. Oh yeah, it was official. She was smitten.

  “Right. That was awfully presumptuous of me. I’m afraid I’m a bit jet-lagged, and after listening to that blaring alarm for the last thirty minutes a mite cranky as well. I’m usually more charming than this.”

  “Oh you’re charming enough,” Sinead said before she could check herself.

  He flashed her another smile. “What can I do to thank you for coming to my rescue, Sinead, who spells her name correctly?”

  For a second she didn’t understand the question. “Sir…”

  “Please. David. Sir is so official, don’t you think?”

  Sinead wasn’t exactly clear what he was asking her. “I’m a police officer.”

  “Yes, I’m aware. The gun, the badge, it’s all rather threatening even if it does come in a pint-sized package.”

  Sinead was hardly pint-sized, but given that he was probably an inch or two over six feet, she imagined her five-foot-four stature wasn’t all that intimidating to him. “David,” she said, feeling a little silly using his name. “I’m trying to point out that coming here is my job. I’ve cleared you as a suspect for B&E. You don’t owe me anything for that.”

  This time his smile was more of a smolder. “Yes, I’m aware. But I’ve decided you are as cute as a button and I don’t see a wedding ring. I’m new to this city. Don’t know a single soul, as my only mate is now currently on the other side of the world, and I thought maybe we could share company. Over, say, dinner?”

  Sinead’s jaw nearly dropped. She was on a call. He had been, upon her arrival, a suspect. And he was way too handsome. Handsome men like him made her nervous. So of course she did the opposite of what made sense.

  “Uh, okay.”

  He made a little fist pump in the air. “Yes! Success. Does tomorrow work?”

  It did. She was off work the next two days. He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and handed it to her. “If you’ll put your name and number in there, I’ll ring you tomorrow and we can settle on a time.”

  Sinead took the phone with a sense of surrealism. Was this actually happening? She took a call that led to her meeting David, the most attractive man she’d ever seen. Now she was going on a date with him.

  “This doesn’t really happen to me,” she muttered, staring down at the phone in her hand.

  “What’s that? You’re saying you don’t normally date the people you come to arrest in the middle of the night?”

  This time she laughed. “No, it happens very infrequently that I’m willing to have dinner with suspected criminals.”

  “This will be a first, then.”

  Smiling, Sinead typed her name and number into his phone as a contact. Maybe she would hear from him again, maybe she wouldn’t. Maybe this was just his thing, to be handsome and charming. His phone was probably full of women’s names and numbers he’d collected over the years.

  Sucker that she was, she added hers to the list.

  Better than Charlie Hunnam handsome. There was no woman who could resist that.

  “Goodnight. And remember to get your friend to give you the correct security code as soon as possible.”

  “Will do. Goodnight Sinead. See you tomorrow.”

  “Yep,” she said, still not convinced she would ever hear from him again. She walked back outside the house and to her cruiser. When she pulled out of the driveway, she noticed he was still standing in the front doorway, watching her retreat. He lifted his hand in a casual send-off wave, and ridiculously she waved back.

  Chapter 2

  “Really Dad? Seriously?”

  Sinead came out of her bedroom to find her father counting twenty-dollar bills on the living room table.

  “What you don’t know, you don’t have to worry about.”

  “I’m a cop, for crying out loud.”

  He glanced up at her over the rim of his readers. “Please,” he snorted. “You’re a Mill Valley cop. Doesn’t count.”

  He said it all the time, and she knew better than to rise to the bait, but she was anxious about tonight so she was a little more on edge than normal. “Yeah, and why is that? Is it because the SFPD wouldn’t have anything to do with another cop named O’Hara?”

  “Sinead, I do not need your attitude right now.”

  Sinead took a deep breath and summoned her patience. “All I’m asking is that you make an attempt to hide the result of your criminal activities from me. You have a bedroom. Use it.”

  Her father ignored her and instead took the time to take in her appearance. “You’re all gussied up.”

  Sinead shook her head. Only her father still used words like gussied. She hesitated and then told him the truth. “I’ve got a date.”

  That had him raising his eyes again. It was no secret dating wasn’t something she did a lot of. The truth of the matter was, Sinead was a pretty reserved person and had been since losing her mother as a teenager. She had a few close friends, her work and her father.

  Who she was still living with at the age of twenty-eight.

  A fairly sad commentary on her life. Except housing in the Bay area was ridiculous. And for some reason their two-bedroom apartment in the Shady Oaks complex in the south side of San Francisco was affordable as long as they were both contributing.

  She just wasn’t overly thrilled with how her father got those contributions. He told her what she didn’t know couldn’t hurt her.

  “A date huh? I know this guy?”

  “No.”

  “He a cop?”

  “No.”

  “Good. Don’t trust cops.”

  Sinead shook her head in disgust. “You used to be a really good cop.”

  “Yeah well sometimes life takes a turn, doesn’t it?”

  Taking a turn was code for her mom’s death. Something her father never recovered from.

  “Don’t wait up for me,” she finally said and headed for the door.

  “This guy,” her father called out before she could leave. “He can’t come knock on a door to pick you up?”

  Sinead looked around the shabby apartment, her father’s take from who knew what on the living room table, and thought it all looked a little crooked. Then she thought of David’s voice on the phone when he’d called her earlier. His accent had literally made her wet.

  “No, he offered but I didn’t want him to see where I lived.”

  She let her father sit with that and she skipped out the door, closing it behind her. She made her way down the steps of the complex through the courtyard, which to her looked even sadder thinking about how David might look at it.

  The empty pool in the center of the courtyard was filled with dirt, broken beer bottles and cigarette butts. There were some broken lawn chairs around it. And every once in a while people gathered to drink or smoke together if it was a nice night. Not that she was ever asked to join. Not the lone cop in Shady Oaks.

  Leaving all of it behind her,
she focused on the night ahead. She ran her hand down her hair. Hoping the late August heat wouldn’t ruin all her effort. What her father called gussied was probably her nicest outfit. A soft cotton skirt, sandals and a light green sweater that brought out the green in her eyes.

  Sinead had no illusions about her appearance. David had called her cute, and it was probably accurate. She had the face of Ireland, a smattering of freckles on her nose, green eyes and long hair that was midnight black. Usually she wore it in a ponytail back off her face. Which was practical for work. Today she’d blown it out and straightened it, letting it shift and move around her shoulders.

  Her version of going all out, because who wouldn’t go all out for a man who looked like David.

  She had this silly idea he would take one look at her and lose his shit. Even though she knew she wasn’t a lose-your-shit kind of girl. She just didn’t want to be at such a disadvantage to him. She wanted to at least hold her own.

  Heading to the corner of the city street where she said she’d meet him, she waited with a nervous energy. Maybe this was a joke. Maybe he was playing her. Maybe making her blow out her hair and stand on a corner waiting for him was how he got his kicks.

  Then her phone dinged, and when she looked down at it the message read:

  Across the street.

  Her eyes moved to the other side of the street and she saw the sleek black convertible Porsche.

  He was leaning against the driver door, legs crossed, phone in his hand. Dark slacks, midnight blue collared shirt. He looked like something out of a high school eighties movie. Some kind of weird dream come true where the hot guy actually likes the sweet girl instead of the beautiful, mean babe.

  Her phone dinged again.

  You’re hesitating rather than running across the street to get to me. This is bad for my ego.

  She smiled, but then quickly suppressed it in case he could see that far. Instead she typed back:

  I always look both ways before crossing the street.

  I see. A safety girl. Take a risk for me.

  She already was. Just by being here. She saw the light turn red and carefully looked both ways and then made her way to him.