“Hold tight, Mrs. Bell, I’ll send you over to media relations.”
I smiled, sensing he was joking. Baker had been a friend of Gavin’s and was someone I could trust. Despite our often-conflicting stances on police work and me getting the story out to the public, we still maintained a good relationship after all these years.
“But I called to speak with you,” I said.
He sarcastically responded, “The department is doing the best we can with the resources we have available.” A short pause had us both smiling. “Jokes aside, how are you, Sam?”
I told him I was fine, but was hoping he could tell me if he’d spoken to or seen Alex.
“Not since last night. I assume you’ve tried calling him?”
“I have. It’s not like him to go quiet on me.” I could hear Baker’s jaw popping as if he was biting his tongue, holding back valuable information that could help me trace King’s whereabouts.
He asked, “This is about last night?”
My brows knitted. “What happened last night?”
“I can’t say without jeopardizing the investigation. But I can tell you this one hit home for King.”
“Is he okay? Did something happen?” My mind raced with a speeding heart.
“Go to his house, Sam,” Baker said sincerely. “I’m sure he’s just trying to clear his head. There’s a lot of work to do and not a whole lot of time.”
As soon as I ended my call with the lieutenant, I sat there staring at the floor feeling my head spin. Why hadn’t King called or come to my place if the scene was as bad as Baker made me think it was? Did it have to do with the note tacked to Erin’s front door? Something told me it did.
There were so many questions and only one thing to do. I gathered my things and marched into the kitchen telling Erin it was time to go.
Chapter Sixteen
“Whose car is that?” Erin asked as soon as I pulled in front of King’s small house near Washington Park, south of downtown.
It was the first thing I noticed, too. Parked next to King’s unmarked police sedan was a silver Ford Focus whose plates I didn’t recognize.
Erin was still staring at the mystery vehicle when she asked, “Maybe King got a new car?”
I didn’t bother responding. There was no need for me to waste my breath. He hadn’t. Instead, I opened my door and told Erin to wait in the car.
“Sam, are you kidding me?” Erin bent her elbow and unbuckled her belt. “I’m coming with you.”
“No you’re not.” I shut the door before I had to listen to more of her protests.
Walking toward the house, I knew something wasn’t right. I didn’t have a good feeling about this. I looked up and down the block and into neighboring houses. Everything seemed normal. As I dug out my key, I thought how King better have a good reason for not responding to my calls.
“Hello?” I entered the house without having to use my key. “Alex, are you home?”
I heard movement in the kitchen and found King at the table alone. His spine straightened when staring at me, his eyes blinking like emergency flashers. He didn’t say anything, only flicked a quick glance to the hallway bathroom door. Suddenly, it opened and I couldn’t believe who walked out.
My heart totally stopped. I recognized her immediately and now understood why Alex wasn’t responding to my texts. Are you serious?
She stared and smiled through brightly painted lips. Her loose curls framed her heart-shaped face before cascading down the middle of her back. I tried to hide the look of shock turning my face red, but it proved to be impossible. Angelina Hill was stunningly beautiful and suddenly I felt like I had interrupted something that wasn’t meant for me to see.
I snapped my neck back to King. He was still sitting stiff as a board in his chair with a look on his face that said he hadn’t expected to have to explain his way out of this. But that was exactly what I was going to have him do.
I couldn’t look him in the eye. Sweeping my watery gaze across the table, I noticed the picture album spread between the mugs of coffee as the two of them were apparently having a good time traveling down memory lane.
What the hell was he doing with his ex-fiancé? And why did I feel like I didn’t belong?
The silence in the house was deafening. No one knew what to say or how to break the ice. King opened his mouth and shut it as he struggled to find the words to explain what exactly was going on. His throat burbled like a brook lacking life-giving oxygen and it was just awkward sounding.
I snapped my neck to Angelina and her eyes immediately flicked to the clock.
“I better get going,” she said to Alex. “Thanks again for the coffee.”
“No. Please stay,” I said, realizing my tone was more jagged sounding than I intended.
Hot flashes of jealousy had pellets of sweat forming across my back as I reminded myself to remain confident in what King and I had. But the questionable circumstances of what I had walked in on overpowered every single rational thought.
King stood and stepped toward me.
“Excuse me,” I said, brushing him off, “but I need to use the toilet.”
Angelina got out of my way as I barreled toward her. It was a smart move. I had no intention of stopping. She said nothing to me and it was better that way. Closing the door behind me, I locked myself inside with my chest heaving.
Turning on the faucet, I stared into the mirror hearing my thoughts echo off my cranium walls. I splashed cold water on my face but it did little to cool me off. When I opened my eyes, I was hit by another shocking surprise.
There, next to the sink, was an expensive looking diamond ring that could have only been left by Angelina.
“No you didn’t,” I whispered a hot breath. “Who does this chick think she is?”
The ring glimmered beneath the light. I couldn’t look away. My mind was now racing out of control, wondering when she’d arrived and if she’d stayed the night.
Turning off the water, I picked up the ring. It was heavy, beautiful, and held the weight of their failed engagement so many years prior. She wasn’t trying to get back with him, was she?
No matter how much I refused to believe it, everything inside me told me she was.
Chapter Seventeen
Susan Young was staring through the tent curtain, watching the line of marathon participants grow when she heard her name being called from behind.
She turned to find event organizer, Hazel Beck, moving swiftly toward her, anxious to give a proper introduction. The women shook hands and Beck said, “Great to finally meet you in person.”
“Surprised it’s taken us this long.”
“I’ve heard many wonderful things about you. I’m so glad you called.” Beck turned her attention toward the tables of staff working to organize the event. “As you can see, we’re swamped with runners registering and could use all the extra hands we can get.”
Susan held up both her hands. “I’ve got two, but they work like four.”
Beck laughed. “I hope so.”
Only a few short weeks ago, Susan had learned about three-year-old Katie Garcia’s battle with leukemia and had wanted to organize a fundraiser to assist with the ballooning medical costs. When the idea of hosting a Denver City marathon crossed her desk, Susan put a call in to Hazel Beck. Beck was already months deep into hosting a similar event and once she learned Katie’s story, she was happy to team up with Susan.
Beck continued, “The event is taking on a life of its own.”
Beck moved at a hundred miles per hour, never missing a beat. Susan quickly caught up—loving the energy of hosting an event of this magnitude. Beck gave Susan the rundown, explaining the registration lines, who was who, and how there was a table for online applicants coming to pick up their bibs and swag bags separate from those registering in person today.
It was easy for Susan to understand; she had done this type of work hundreds of times before. When Beck asked if Susan had any questions, Susan said, �
�Piece of cake.”
Beck grinned. “Sorry I couldn’t get you here before the chaos.”
“Not to worry.”
They moved into the next tent. A man of about six-one with wavy dirty blond hair smiled when locking eyes with Susan. Susan smiled back, wondering who the man was. She was an attractive woman who had the miraculous ability to turn heads wherever she traveled, and apparently today was no different. She’d once again caught the attention of another man.
Beck saw friendly glances being stolen in Susan’s direction and said with a smile, “His name is Tristan and he’s our safety director.”
“A doctor?” Susan asked, suddenly finding the man less attractive. Her last boyfriend had been a doctor, and their sudden breakup still hurt. She didn’t want to even think about dating a doctor again—even one as good looking as this Tristan guy was.
“Homecare nurse,” Beck assured her. “And a wonderful one at that, from what I hear.”
One of Beck’s assistants interrupted and whispered something into her ear. Beck nodded, then lifted her eyebrows when saying to Susan, “Police Chief Gordon Watts just arrived. If you’ll please excuse me.”
Beck rushed off and Susan moved to assist Tristan. “You look swamped, how about I help?”
Tristan quickly gave Susan the rundown on registration protocol. “It’s easy as pie,” he said after moving a couple registrants through the line. “You ready to open up a lane of your own?” Susan was. “I’m here for another hour if you have any questions, then I have to jet off to work.”
Susan opened up her lane, and quickly settled into a rhythm all her own. A half-hour passed before she encountered her first problem. A beautiful young woman stepped up to the table. “What’s your name, sweetheart?”
“Avery Morgan.”
Susan entered Avery’s name but couldn’t find her name on the list. “Have you registered or are you doing so now?”
“Already registered.”
Tristan swiveled toward Susan and flashed Avery a wide grin that made Avery smile. “Running with the department?” Tristan asked Avery.
Avery’s eyes flashed with surprise. “How’d you know?”
Tristan pointed to her shirt. A logo of the Denver Police Foundation, a non-profit organization, was proudly displayed on her left shoulder. Avery was one of dozens of officers participating in the event.
Avery laughed.
“Let’s find your name,” Tristan smiled, “and get you set for Sunday’s race.”
Chapter Eighteen
Allison Doyle watched the thick thunderhead approach from the west. The large battleship clouds piled high in the sky, threatening to release torrential curtains of rain within the hour. It was an indication of what was to come. Right now, she was forced to hide from the hot sun still blazing overhead.
Wrapping her lips around the straw of her iced coffee, Allison pulled back a refreshing sip that jolted her awake. Customers came and went to the coffee shop where she instructed Marty to meet her. It was a few blocks from her office, and an easy reference point to begin their reunion into what would hopefully be a productive future.
Allison couldn’t stand still. She was feeling excited, a little nervous, and couldn’t stop thinking about what Samantha said on their walk earlier today.
“He’ll be fine.” Allison kept reassuring herself. “Marty needs someone to believe in him. If not me, then who?”
Palming her cellphone, Allison checked the time and sighed. She didn’t want to admit Marty was running late, but he was. She hoped it wasn’t an early indication of what she could expect from him—and certainly didn’t want Samantha to be right. If only he had a cellphone of his own, then she could call to make sure he wasn’t lost.
Rocking on her heels, she decided to give him another five minutes before walking back to the office. Feeling tired from her walk with Samantha, her ankles were beginning to swell. Bending her knee, she rubbed the pain away questioning her decision to participate in Sunday’s marathon.
It wasn’t so much that she didn’t think she could do it, but rather a matter of having too much on her plate to commit to something that big. The prospect of having to train Marty was only half of her current stress. She also had a big industry summit approaching, which she wasn’t prepared for at all. She couldn’t back out of either commitment.
Suddenly, a pair of broad shoulders brushed past her and Susan watched as the tall man opened the door to the coffee shop. Without him realizing it, a single bill of money floated from his pocket and Allison bent over to pick it up, calling out, “Hey, you dropped this.”
The tall man didn’t even stop so she called out a second time. This time a little bit louder.
“Excuse me, sir, you dropped your money.” She thrust her arm out so that he could see what he had lost.
With his hand still on the door handle, he turned and said, “Keep it.”
Allison’s eyebrows squished. “But it’s yours.”
“Not anymore.” He smiled and disappeared inside leaving Allison spinning in a whirlpool of confusion.
“What the hell was that about?” a deep voice said from behind.
Allison whipped around. Marty locked eyes with his cousin and smiled. Allison spread her arms to the sides and catapulted into his. They hugged and laughed. Allison had tears of joy. When their celebration ended, Marty asked, “That man giving you trouble?”
“Easy soldier.” Allison squeezed his shoulders. “You’re no longer in the jailhouse.”
Marty pointed to the glass door. “’Cause I’ll have a word with him if you want?”
The corners of Allison’s eyes crinkled. “I’m flattered, really, but I was only telling him that he dropped his money.” Allison opened up her palm and showed Marty the folded up twenty.
Marty looked to the money, then swept his gaze up to Allison. “You kept it?”
Allison said, “He wouldn’t take it back.”
Marty looked through the window, squinting his eyes to see through the glare. “Who does that?”
“I suppose it’s his way of paying it forward.” Allison’s eyes traveled over Marty’s single duffle slung over his shoulder, assuming it was all the possessions he owned. “But it doesn’t matter because I’m not going to argue with him about it.”
Marty laughed. “You haven’t changed a bit.”
“God, it’s so good to see you.”
“You too, cousin.” Marty’s gaze softened. “Thank you for doing this.”
Allison pinched her lips. “Just don’t make me regret it.”
Marty slung his arm over Allison’s shoulders. “I’ll do my best.”
“Now, c’mon.” Allison wagged her head and started walking. “Let me show you to your new office.”
Chapter Nineteen
Angelina was gone by the time I exited the bathroom and the house was even quieter than before. I found King in the kitchen cleaning dirty dishes and loading them into the dishwasher. He’d since closed up the picture book he and Angelina were looking at, clearly not interested in making it a conversation piece, and I was glad.
Leaning against the counter’s ledge, I folded my arms and asked in a low, non-confrontational voice, “What was that about?”
King was slow to respond. He turned off the water and looked me in the eye when he said, “Peggy Hill was murdered last night.”
Slowly, my head floated back on my shoulders. I recognized the name, knew it to be Angelina’s mother, and couldn’t believe what I was hearing. How insensitive it was of me to assume it was only about me. King and his relationship with the Hill’s went back to a time long before I was a part of his daily life. That wasn’t something that was easy to erase.
With wide eyes, I thought about the conversation I had with Lt. Baker and asked King, “Was that the call you were on last night?”
King nodded once—still looking me in the eye.
I turned and looked away. I felt awful for making assumptions as to why Angelina was here, cl
early enjoying King’s company.
“Is Angelina okay?” I asked.
King’s voice was raspy like gritted sandpaper. “No.”
I imagined as much. But Angelina fooled me. She hid her emotions well. Even I couldn’t have done it as well as she did if standing in her shoes. Angelina held no visible signs of grief, nor gave off any indication of the emotional strike of lightning I imagined she had experienced. Was that because she was in the presence of King? Or was it because the truth hadn’t sunk in yet?
“I know what it looks like.” King dried his hands with a towel and took me at the waist, digging his fingertips into the soft part of my hips, pulling me against his hard abdomen. “It was a late night and she had no one else she could talk to.”
So you brought her here? Why not go to a coffee shop? I argued with him inside my head.
I tipped my head back and allowed my eyes to sway back and forth with his. They were tired looking but not as dark as when I’d last seen them.
King tilted his mouth forward and kissed me.
My moist lips melted into his as our tongues gently touched. Pressing my palms deeper into his chest, I felt his heart beat against the balls of my hands. I regretted my resentment toward them both. I didn’t know what had gotten into me, but I knew King was once madly in love with Angelina, and there was still the ring she’d left behind.
Did she do it on purpose? I was afraid to ask King. He didn’t have to tell me we were okay. He reassured me with his actions and had me feeling like we were stronger than ever. But I still mentioned the ring. “It’s next to the sink in the bathroom,” I said.
Mischief flashed in his eyes. “Would you like to be the one to return it?”
Maybe I would have under different circumstances, just to make sure there wasn’t any question who King belonged to. But I didn’t want there to be any further misunderstanding.
He said, “I’ll call her.”
“Thanks,” I said as King reminded me about dinner with his mother and Avery tonight.
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