“One last thing, Jen. Did you touch that note? Did you open it?”
She shuddered. “No. No way was I going to touch it.”
So, they had a chance for fingerprints. At least they had that.
After Shannon had escorted Jennifer inside, Traci spoke. “You’re going to have to help me connect the dots when you can.”
“I will. I just can’t believe it’s not over.”
“What do you need me to do? Take the lead? Run interference?”
Honestly, he wanted her to do both everything and nothing at all. He wanted to be in charge of the case and walk away from any responsibility. Hell, a part of him wanted to turn around, go into Shannon’s loft and simply eat a slice of pie.
Anything but open this case and risk hurting his sister again.
Then his discipline kicked in. He needed to stop wishing for what wasn’t going to happen and concentrate on doing his job. “Let’s go ahead and take this one step at a time.” Gazing at the envelope with his sister’s name on it, he added, “This might not even be connected.”
“All right, then.” She started toward Carpenter. “I’ll fill in Mike and grab some gloves for both of us.”
“Thanks.”
Five minutes later, Mike Carpenter was taking pictures and he and Traci had on gloves. He opened the back passenger-side door and she picked up the note. “Ready to see what’s inside?” she asked.
He could only nod.
Pulling out a Swiss Army knife, she popped out the small blade and slit the top of the envelope. After glancing at Mike, she pulled out the thin slip of paper and unfolded it.
Dylan noticed right away that there were only a couple of words on the paper. They were scribbled in the center and said everything he needed to know.
Reading the words again, he felt a chill settle into the center of his chest.
Jennifer had been right. This wasn’t over. Not even close.
CHAPTER 17
“Dare, dream, dance, smile, and sing loudly! And have faith that love is an unstoppable force.”
—Suzanne Brockmann
It had been over an hour since Shannon had escorted Jennifer inside and had taken her upstairs, where Kimber had been waiting. Kimber had been watching what had been going on from their living room window, so she’d jumped in right away.
She’d started talking a mile a minute while she served Jennifer a slice of pie and put the kettle on to boil.
Shannon had been impressed. Kimber was by far the most reclusive and quiet of the three of them. Shannon knew she wasn’t social by nature and could spend hours by herself simply reading a book.
But now she had a window on this new facet of her sister’s personality. There was a reason Kimber was such a successful model, and it wasn’t just her looks. It seemed that the girl could fake happiness with the best of them. She was as warm and chatty as a favorite grandmother. It was obvious that Jennifer wasn’t sure how to react to that.
For her part, Shannon realized she was torn between concern for Jennifer and for her brother. Then there was the new, lingering interest in Traci’s job. She hadn’t ever seen Traci in her full cop mode and was curious about how she interacted in that role.
She finally opted for simply sipping tea and trying to make a soothing environment for Jennifer.
After they had a cup of tea, the three of them walked over to the couch. “Want to watch one of those home improvement shows?” she asked, sensing that Jennifer simply needed something mindless to focus on.
“Sure,” Jennifer replied.
Kimber looked at her strangely, but sat on the couch, too, a hardcover library book on her lap.
Shannon turned on a show featuring a small-town couple down in Mississippi. They remodeled old houses for people who came back to their town. As she watched them tear down, scrape, and rebuild the house, she couldn’t help but reflect that the work on those houses was an awful lot like what they’d all been doing. Repairing damage, trying to make something beautiful out of something that had been damaged and worn by abuse or neglect.
She was about to mention that, when she realized that Kimber had gone to her room and that Jennifer was sound asleep.
When she heard footsteps climb the stairs, she stood up and smiled at Traci and Dylan.
After seeing that Jennifer was asleep, Traci murmured to her that she was going to take a shower.
Which left Shannon and Dylan alone. He looked as exhausted as Traci had. And as stressed as Shannon.
He walked to her side. “Everything go okay?”
“Yep. We watched a home show on HGTV. Jennifer fell asleep about halfway through the episode.”
“That’s probably a good thing.” Looking exhausted, he ran a hand through his hair. “What a night.”
“How about something to eat?”
“Really?” He shifted to face her. “Are you sure you don’t want us to leave?”
She didn’t at all. She wanted to sit with Dylan, try to help him if she could . . . and yes, she would love to know what was going on. “Why don’t you let your sister sleep?” she asked easily. “I mean, unless you want to go home right now.”
“Honestly, I don’t think I want to leave this room.”
“Then come eat some supper.”
He followed her obediently, like a small boy anxious for a treat. First, she heated up a portion of the casserole and set it in front of him alone with a big glass of sweet tea. After he started eating, she cleaned up a few dishes, then sliced a generous portion of pie and put it on the table.
When she noticed that he’d already drained his glass, she decided that they both needed something stronger than another cup of hot tea, she pulled out a couple of beers and opened them both.
He grinned and lightly tapped the top of his bottle with hers. “I knew I liked you.”
“I don’t know how well Coors goes with lemon meringue pie, but I thought you might appreciate it.”
“It goes great.” He finished his slice in five bites and then leaned back and took a long sip of his drink.
“Better?”
“You know? Yeah. I got busy at the station and lost track of time. I hadn’t eaten since around eleven this morning.”
“Oh, Dylan.”
He shrugged, like it didn’t matter. “No big deal.”
Sitting down next to him, she said, “So . . .”
He smiled tiredly. “So, I’m not sure what’s going to happen now, but I think this moment is excellent. Thanks for this.”
“Anytime.” And yes, she meant that. She was starting to hope that they would have a lot of moments like this. Well, the supper together after a long day, not after a crisis with his sister.
He took another sip. “I’m just sorry that we couldn’t have our lesson.”
She laughed. “I almost believe you mean that.”
“You should. And I’m not just talking about the bet, either. There’s something about dancing with you that helps me. I like that . . . for a little while I’m not thinking about anything other than that I need to count steps, remember to lead you around a room, and not step on your toes.”
“I know what you mean. Dancing is good for your brain.”
“We’ll have to make it up soon.”
Now realizing that he needed to take his mind off everything, she stood up. “You know, if you want, we could go downstairs and dance a little bit now.”
He grinned. “Seriously?”
She winked. “I don’t joke about dancing, Officer Lange.”
“I’m not sure how good I’ll be . . .”
“I wouldn’t even count it as a lesson. I mean, not unless you wanted me to,” she said quickly, just in case she had misread his cues. “We could dance for fun.”
“For fun,” he repeated. He dragged the word out, then slid a look
at his sister.
Shannon felt a little burst of pleasure, knowing that he was slowly becoming a fan of dancing, too. “I could let Traci and Kimber know that we were downstairs, so if Jennifer woke up, you wouldn’t have to worry about her getting scared.”
A smile played on his mouth as he stood up. “All right . . . but I’m not doing anything crazy. No salsa lesson.”
“I’ll put on a pretty song and we’ll just rumba, Dylan. Nothing crazy.”
“Let’s go, then. But I think I’m going to need another beer.”
“Get two and meet me downstairs. I’m going to go fill in my sisters.”
As he walked to the refrigerator, she peeked in Kimber’s room. Traci was sitting in Kimber’s incredibly comfortable blue velvet chair in the corner looking at magazines. Kimber was painting her toenails. Both looked up at her in surprise.
“Jennifer is sound asleep,” Shannon said.
Traci winced. “Poor thing.”
“I know. I feel so sorry for her. Anyway, Dylan doesn’t want to leave her here, and we both thought it would be a shame to wake her up right now.”
“It would be a real shame,” Kimber said, her voice way too sweet.
Shannon knew she was undoubtedly blushing by now. “Anyway, um, we were talking. I mean, Dylan and I decided that it would be a real shame to not take advantage of our time together.”
“You’re right,” Traci said with a nod. “You two should put it to good use.”
She shifted her weight and tried to look serious. “What I’m trying to tell y’all is that he and I are going to be downstairs dancing, so if you could check on Jennifer and get us if she wakes up, I’d appreciate it.”
“Don’t worry. We’ll look after her,” Kimber assured her.
“Promise,” Traci said with a nod.
Feeling a little embarrassed but excited, Shannon picked up the heels she’d slipped off earlier and quietly walked down the stairs.
Jennifer was asleep, Dylan did need his lesson, and she was too keyed up to simply sit and stare at the television.
All of those were really good reasons. True ones, too.
However, all she seemed to be able to think about was that she had a blond-haired and blue-eyed hunky cop downstairs waiting for her.
And for the first time—maybe even the first time ever—she was going to ballroom dance with a man just because she wanted to, not because he was paying her or because she had an upcoming competition to practice for.
Ignoring her racing pulse, she headed downstairs.
CHAPTER 18
“When I have bad days, I just eat lots of chocolate ice cream and dance to the ‘Lion King’ soundtrack. It’s really odd, but it’s true.”
—Blake Lively
“Now, don’t forget, Dylan,” Shannon warned. “It’s slow, step, step. Slow, step, step.” She drew out the word slow two beats before adding a quick step-step.
She’d put on “Lovesong” by Adele, Dylan was holding her right hand with his left and encircling her waist with his right. Once again she was wearing a pretty dress and heels. Her brown hair was down and her brown eyes were bright and highlighted with a coat of black mascara. And, yes, she smelled good. A combination of roses and cinnamon. He hadn’t known such a scent existed but now he knew he’d never forget it.
“Dylan, are you okay?”
“Hmm? Oh, yeah.” He smiled down at her. “Sorry. I was just thinking about something else.”
Her lips, so pretty and plump, pursed. “I’m so sorry. I bet this is one more thing to do in a really long day.”
“It’s not. Dancing with you doesn’t seem like a chore to me at all.” As Adele’s perfect voice continued to float around them, he grinned down at her. “Let’s rumba.”
She rolled her eyes, then whispered her slow, step-step chant. He stumbled a bit, then his muscles seemed to pick it up like he’d been rumbaing all his life.
Shannon lifted her chin and smiled broadly. “Good job! You’re getting it.”
Feeling braver, he turned her a bit. Sure, it was clumsy, but she scooted closer and made it seem so easy. And then, just like that, all the stress that he’d been feeling that week—the snowstorm, Jennifer’s rescue, even his new partner’s idiosyncrasies, they all faded away.
Now, all he was thinking about was not losing his footing and how good she felt next to him.
“Ready to do a twirl?” she whispered.
“I’m ready to do whatever you want.”
Her eyes widened. “Huh?”
He needed to focus. At least a little bit. “I mean, sure.”
The line in between her brows smoothed again. “Okay, slow, step-step, release, step-step, take my hand, step-step.” When she was back in place, she looked up at him and smiled. “Good job.”
“Thanks, baby.” Yep, the endearment had slipped out without him thinking about it.
Her smile faltered a bit but she didn’t correct him. Instead, when a new song came on, she stepped a little closer and murmured the correct counts again.
Once again, his body automatically adjusted to hers, moving in sync. It was innocent, nothing too intense. But there was now an underlying tension simmering between them.
“Hey, Shannon?”
“Hmm?”
“Is it always like this with your students?”
Her eyebrows inched together. “Like what?”
“These lessons. Are they always so easy?” Of course, he wanted to say so perfect. Maybe so intimate . . . or so good ?
She looked confused. “Hmm. Well, sometimes. But not often.” She paused as he turned her again. Then, when they were facing each other, she smiled up at him. “Actually, most lessons don’t feel like this.”
“What do you think is the difference? My athletic prowess?” he teased.
“More like our chemistry,” she said with a smile before counting off a turn again.
After he got her settled again, he murmured, “I’m glad you felt it too. I mean, you do, right?”
“Oh yes. I mean, I did. I do.”
“Hmm.”
She looked flustered as a Jason Mraz song began. After they did a turn around the room, this time dancing so close his hand was in the center of her back instead of politely curved around her waist, she pulled away abruptly. “You know what? That’s probably enough for now.”
“I’m sorry. Did I get too close?”
“No. It’s just . . . well, I’m sure you’re ready to get on home.”
Okay. So that was how she wanted to handle things. Like they weren’t really happening. When he almost reached out to her, he stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Yeah, it’s been a really long day. I need a shower.”
“I’m ready to put on a pair of sweats and a thick pair of socks.”
“I bet.” He ran a hand through is hair. “I’ll go wake up Jennifer and we’ll get out of your way.”
She winced. “I can’t believe it, but I had forgotten about her!” She looked at the clock on the wall. “It’s only been a little over an hour. That’s not a very good nap at all.”
“She’ll be all right.” He knew from experience that he was going to be able to pick her up, carry her to his car, get her home, and put her into her bed without her hardly waking up. When she slept after a traumatic experience like she’d had, like this, she slept like the dead.
Shannon looked down the hall with a worried expression. “How about you let her spend the night?”
“I couldn’t let you do that.”
“All I’d be doing is giving her a place to sleep. When she wakes up in the morning, she can drive home, or one of us can take her.”
It was tempting to take Shannon up on that. Jennifer had been a wreck—and deservedly so.
He was a wreck even thinking of one of those guys who he’d put in p
rison getting let out and now stalking her.
But what if she woke up and got upset? Jennifer would suffer for that . . . and so would Shannon. It wasn’t easy dealing with a victim of a violent crime. Even when everything inside him kept reminding himself that Jennifer was healing, her panic attacks were difficult to watch and always made him feel completely useless.
“Shannon, there’s a chance that she’s going to wake up and get upset.”
“We’ll be here, though. I can sit with her.”
“I appreciate that, but she may get agitated.” Jennifer wasn’t a child, of course. But her panic and pain was hard to watch. He didn’t want to inadvertently make Shannon deal with something she wasn’t ready for.
But she brushed aside his worries. “If that happens, I’ll talk to her. And, if that doesn’t work, I’ll call you and you can talk her through it. Or, even come get her,” she said reasonably.
“You’ve got an answer for everything, don’t you?”
Her expression softened. “No, but I don’t want you to think y’all are alone here. I want to help.”
He didn’t need to rely on his five years’ experience in the force to know that she was being sincere. But more than that, he knew that tonight they’d made a shift in their relationship. Shannon Murphy wasn’t just his dance teacher or just his partner’s sister. She was important to him. “I appreciate that.”
“So?” Shannon tilted her head to one side.
He couldn’t help but notice the way her hair slid down her shoulder. It looked like silk. He wondered how soft it was. Yep, he was staring at Shannon like he was fascinated . . . and maybe he was.
But he also needed to trust her . . . and trust Jennifer. His sister was right—she did need him from time to time, but she had made a lot of progress. He needed to respect that. “Let me go check on Jen.”
She was sprawled on the couch, one of her legs halfway off. Shannon frowned. “Let’s move her into my room.”
“Are you sure?” He hated to kick Shannon out of her own bed.
“Positive. It’s going to be okay, Dylan.”
Realizing that his worry wasn’t helping anyone, he scooped up his sister.
Shall We Dance? Page 11
