What was she going to do with him?
* * * *
The engine quiet after an hour of being parked, Evan settled back in his Jeep, a cup of coffee next to him and an empty bag of chips on the passenger seat. He’d lost his appetite about a year ago and figured that eating junk food wasn’t going to kill him, considering he was already dying.
His cellphone buzzed, and he answered the call with a swipe of his finger.
“O’Connell?” came through, a little scratchy.
“Hey, Mabel,” he said, turning up the sound. “Did you get a hit?”
The eighty-year-old sighed loudly over the line. “Nope. Nothing on a Tabitha Rusko, Richard Goncharov, or anybody named Popov. Sorry, buddy.”
“No worries. I didn’t figure to get anything. Why are you working so late? This could’ve waited until morning,” he said.
“Oh, I’ll sleep when I’m dead,” she cackled. “Besides, I’d rather get my hours in when the dumbass sheriff isn’t here.”
Evan snorted. “That kind of talk will get you fired, my friend.”
“I notice you didn’t disagree,” she chortled.
No. There was no disagreement. The sheriff was buddies with the mayor and was also related by marriage. It was one of the things Evan had hoped to change before he moved on, but time was getting too short. He looked down at his shaking left hand. The attacks were getting worse. “Regardless, make sure somebody walks you out to your car tonight,” Evan said.
“I will, if you promise to run for sheriff next fall,” she returned, ending the call before he could answer.
Yeah, he wasn’t going to be around in the fall. It was probably time to turn in his notice, but he wanted to wait until Tabi and his other friend, Abby, finished their anger management course and then got out of town. He might not be able to do much these days, but he could at least make sure both women were safe before quitting his job.
His head pounded, and he leaned back. The pain was becoming an odd reassurance to him that he was still alive. How weird was that?
A knock sounded on his window, and he jumped, reaching for his gun. “What in the world?” Anger replaced weakness, and he shoved open his door, standing and looming over the tiny blonde. “Never sneak up on an armed man,” he said, his teeth clenched.
Tabitha huffed out a breath. “It isn’t my fault you’re sleeping in your car. Speaking of which, why are you camped outside my house?” In the dim moonlight, her eyes glowed like the deepest coal, and in her dark leggings and loose-fitting top, she looked young and cute.
Cute slayed him. Always had. “I was making sure that wacko from earlier didn’t bother you,” he admitted.
She sighed, ducking her head to stare at her bare feet. “You can’t save everyone, Evan,” she whispered.
It was the first time she’d used his given name. Apparently sitting outside her home at night and trying to protect her had granted him some sort of a closeness. “I’m not trying to save everyone.” The itch between his shoulder blades wouldn’t abate. How had the interloper known of Evan’s illness earlier? Was it becoming that obvious? “I can still help you, Rusko.”
She looked up then, way up, her expression one that caused intrigue. “What makes you think I need help?”
It was a good question. “It’s my job,” he answered, knowing it was a cop out.
She smiled. “Have you always had this desperate need to protect and defend?”
Ah. The motto on his police vehicle. He did love that Jeep. “I guess so.” He scouted the quiet street and then gestured toward her bungalow. “You’re safe tonight. Go on in and get some sleep.” Her scent of mystery and unidentifiable flowers was going to drive him crazy, so he used his best official voice. The one most younger police officers jumped to obey.
The woman didn’t so much as twitch. “I can’t talk you into leaving?”
“No.” It wasn’t like he slept much these days, anyway.
“Then why don’t you come inside, have some apple pie, and sleep on my sofa?” She clasped her hands together, looking like an innocent angel from times gone by.
Oh, he knew he had a thing for petite and fragile looking women, but this one had a strength to her that just plain and simply intrigued him. He needed to figure her out. But staying inside her house was a huge mistake, and he wouldn’t make it. His radio buzzed before he could answer her.
“Evan? We have a nine-sixteen at 2827 East Beverly Street,” Mabel said. “Again.”
Damn it. He reached for the radio. “I’m en route.” Then he nodded to Tabi. “Go inside and lock your doors. I have to go.”
She lifted an eyebrow. “What’s a nine-sixteen?”
He slid back into his seat. “It’s a domestic violence call.” He’d already been to the Baker house twice that month. Why the young bride wouldn’t leave her husband, he didn’t know. Maybe this time he could talk some sense into her.
Tabi frowned. “You’re a detective. Shouldn’t that call have gone to an officer?”
He nodded. “Yeah, but our two officers would’ve been called off by the sheriff. I won’t be.”
“Do you need help?”
He jolted. “No.” Like the petite blonde could help him. “Just keep yourself safe tonight. I’ll do a drive by later, but here’s my cell number if you need help.” He tugged a card out of his unused ashtray. “I mean it, Tabi. If you need help, call me.”
She took the card, her expression bemused. “All right. Be careful.” Then she turned and jogged back inside her house.
He sighed and started the engine, driving down the street.
“You know, you got a real hero complex, O’Connell,” Mabel crackled through the radio. “What’s the deal there?”
He rolled his eyes. “I’m just doing my job.”
“Uh huh,” she said. “Be careful at the Bakers’ house. That moron is probably drunk again.”
“Good,” Evan said grimly. “Then I can arrest him this time.” Although, considering the idiot was the sheriff’s youngest son, the asshole wouldn’t stay in jail long. “We’ve got to clean up this town, Mabel.”
“Wouldn’t that be nice?” she cackled, signing off.
Yeah. He’d think of something.
Chapter 3
Evan’s eyes were scratchy and his left leg weak when he strode into the room used for the anger management class. After arresting Baker the night before, he’d parked down the street from Tabi’s house to keep watch, and once daylight had arrived, he’d spent a shitty day at the office, avoiding the sheriff since he’d arrested the asshole’s kid the night before.
The smell of coffee wafted his way, and he turned to make an instant beeline for the table set up beneath the wide window, considering he’d missed dinner.
Dr. Lopez looked up from sitting on a metal chair at the edge of a circle of vacant metal chairs. “Hi, Detective. We have donuts and fresh cookies this fine evening.” The shrink had dressed in dark jeans and a silky-looking pink shirt with her dark hair in a bob around her pretty face. Her forehead wrinkled. “It’s so nice, but I can’t figure out why the leader of the gambling anonymous meetings keeps bringing us food. He only stole our room once.”
Evan shrugged and reached for a peanut butter cookie. “Maybe he feels guilty. Who knows?” The guy had done a complete turnaround, and if Evan didn’t know better, he’d think one of Lopez’s group members had had a little discussion with him. But nothing had been reported, and he had enough to worry about.
She smiled, her brown eyes sparkling. “I’ve gotten used to you attending the meetings. Isn’t it time you sat and actually participated?”
He paused with the treat halfway to his mouth. “I’m not here as a participant.”
She tapped her tennis shoe on the old wooden floor. “You might as well be, don’t you think? I can tell that something is bothering you besides wanting to help Abby Miller, which I believe you already have. Why don’t you participate?”
“Thanks, but no.” If he was
angry, it was because he was dying, and he didn’t really need to share that fact with anybody. Abby Miller had been falsely accused of battery by her dirtbag ex, and the best deal Evan could get for her was probation so long as she attended these meetings. Of course, the ex was now dead. Thank goodness Abby had an airtight alibi for the murder.
As if reading his mind, Lopez frowned. “Are you here now because Abby’s ex-husband was murdered?”
Evan shoved the cookie in his mouth and finished it before answering. “Don’t you think it’s odd that your group provided an alibi for each other?” The second they’d been questioned, the group claimed they’d all been having a pizza party when the murder had occurred. Abby should’ve been the prime suspect.
“No. They were all together. It’s common for people in a group to try and make friends. I find it odd that you’d think that odd, considering they all just met a month ago. Why would any of them lie for near strangers?” She tilted her head.
“Good point,” Evan admitted. Even so, something was weird with this group. With most of the members of the group.
Tabi swept inside, this evening wearing white slacks, a green blouse, and high heels with red bottoms. She whipped off what had to be designer sunglasses. “How did the domestic violence call go last night?”
“Fine.” Evan’s ribs still hurt from the bat, but he’d taken Baker down hard afterward, and that had felt good.
“Good.” She poured herself a cup of coffee and strode over to sit by the shrink. “Good evening. How’s the brain business, Mariana?” She sipped delicately.
The shrink smiled. “That’s a tough question. If I say it’s good, then people have problems. If I say bad, then I don’t have patients, and I can’t buy shoes like you’re wearing. Those are stunning.”
Tabi kicked out her leg and twirled her ankle. “Thanks. They give me four extra inches in height.”
It was amazing she could be so graceful in the deadly things. Movement sounded near the door. Evan turned from staring at the sexy shoes to see Abby and her new friend, Noah Siosal, walk inside the room, holding hands. He wasn’t one to judge, but meeting a guy in an anger management program probably wasn’t the best move for Abby to make. Abby’s ex had been an ass, and this guy was at least six-six and built hard. One punch, and he could kill a woman, without question. Plus, a sense of danger rolled off him.
She smiled at Evan, looking happy, her greenish-brown eyes sparkling.
Ah, damn it. Evan cut a harsh look at Noah, promising retribution if he hurt the brunette. Noah winked at him, his eyes as black as Tabi’s but his hair a darker blond. In fact, they looked oddly alike, but Evan’s background check on them hadn’t pinpointed any relationship or past association at all.
Evan straightened. Besides a recent bar fight that had put Siosal into the group, he was clean. Yet something wasn’t right.
The next person loping into the room set Evan’s teeth even more on edge. Raine Maxwell, another muscled male that seemed out of place in the innocuous old school room. He had sharp green eyes, black hair, and a hoarse voice that was almost a low growl.
Evan knew a predator when he saw one. In fact, he’d once been one. A long time ago in the service.
Raine took a seat next to Tabi.
Fire lanced down Evan’s spine. Why he felt so much for the blonde was a mystery he’d never have enough time to solve. Man, he really was losing it.
Then Johnny Baker walked in with his father, the sheriff, right behind him.
Evan went cold and then full hot. “I put you in a cell.”
Johnny smiled and walked toward the circle. “Not for long.” The punk was twenty years old with thick brown hair and beady brown eyes. He had his father’s stocky build, but unlike the sheriff, he was muscled and his gut hadn’t started to go to fat. Yet. His main hobby seemed to be beating up his bride.
The sheriff reached Evan’s side. “We had an emergency hearing with the judge right after dinner, and Johnny was ordered to complete this anger management course, so the prosecutor agreed to drop all charges.”
Evan’s ears burned. “The judge, his uncle?” The sheriff’s sister had married the local judge decades ago.
Sheriff Baker’s jaw firmed. “There wasn’t anything underhanded. This was a first offense, and it was probably a mistake.”
Even though the entire room was watching, Evan leaned down into the face of his boss, fury deepening his voice. “This was a first offense because once again, the female victim refused to make a report. But this time, your son hit a cop with a fucking bat. Me. That matters.”
Hatred glowed in the sheriff’s dull eyes for a moment before being banked. “I’d watch it, O’Connell. You might be a buddy of the governor, which got you this job, but you work for me.”
Johnny sat next to Dr. Lopez and smiled, his eyes hard. “I can’t have anything like that on my record if I want to be a police officer.”
Evan straightened. “Excuse me?”
Johnny lowered his chin. “I take the police officer entry-level civil service exam in two weeks. Good thing there’s an opening in the department, right? I hope I have a chance of making it.” His chuckle held a shitload of derision.
All the moron needed was a high school degree, and he had that. “You have to pass a drug test and a psych evaluation,” Evan shot back. Although the sheriff would make sure he passed those, probably.
Raine Maxwell cleared his throat. “It appears as if we have a problem.”
The sheriff turned on him. “Mind your own business.”
Tabi cleared her throat. “Well, hello, Johnny. How are your balls? I believe I kicked them nearly through the top of your head when you and your buddies tried to accost me.”
It was the attack that had been caught on tape. Evan should give her that video. Definitely.
Johnny swirled to look at her, and he did pale the slightest amount. “Oh, you and I aren’t done.”
Evan stepped forward. “Watch it, kid.”
The sheriff grabbed his arm. “Detective O’Connell? You’re not needed here, and I suggest you get back to work. Don’t you have a murder to solve?” He turned and stared at Abby Miller. “I believe the, ah, grieving widow is right over there.” The condescension in his tone had Abby’s head jerking up and Noah’s eyes narrowing.
Dr. Lopez read the room accurately. “Actually, I’ve requested that the detective join the group, since we have some tension here. Surely you’re okay with that, Sheriff?” If that was the tone she used with her underage clients, she no doubt got definite results.
The sheriff paused and then smiled, his gaze running over the woman’s form. “Of course. Anything for you, Dr. Lopez.”
A low rumble sounded from Raine, barely audible.
Interesting. Evan pulled free from the sheriff before he could knock the guy out with one punch and lose his job. “Well, then. I guess I’ll take a seat.” He purposefully strode right over to sit next to Johnny. “You and I aren’t done, either,” he said, turning to face the shithead.
Tabi leaned back in her chair, watching him closely. “You’re kind of fun when you’re pissed off,” she murmured, her dark eyes dancing.
“That’s where you’d be wrong, darlin’,” he returned, keeping everyone in the room in his sights. Threats were in every direction, and the feeling of missing something important wouldn’t leave him.
Her small grin was nearly catlike and had the perverse result of turning him on. What was it with that woman?
The sheriff strutted toward the doorway. “O’Connell? Meet me at the station first thing tomorrow morning. I’d like an update on the case, and I have no doubt you’ll be able to break the false alibi of the widow.” He disappeared down the old hallway.
Abby sighed. “Detective? I’m so sorry to have gotten you into this mess. I did not kill my ex-husband.” She’d been married to a lawyer, who’d been buddies with the sheriff and the judge, and there was no doubt she’d been railroaded in an arrest and then near convictio
n from a fake battery charge. Evan had used all his power to keep her out of jail and get her into probation and the anger management group before the ex had been murdered. “My alibi is solid.”
Yeah. Her alibi was everyone in the room, except the shrink and Johnny. Something about a pizza party at Raine Maxwell’s house, which just didn’t set right. But it didn’t make sense that these people, all from different walks of life, had conspired to kill a moron lawyer in a small Indiana town. “I hope so,” Evan said, sitting back. “I do need to interview each of you soon, just so you know. We need follow-up information.” Actually, he needed to compare their initial interviews with the second ones, just to see who was lying.
Although Monte Lofton had been an asshole, he’d been murdered, and Evan couldn’t allow vigilante justice in his town.
Abby smiled. “I’ll gladly be interviewed again, Detective. Switching topics, why don’t you run for county sheriff in the fall? You’d basically just deal with this city and the few outlining areas, and you’d do a much better job than that jackass.”
“Hey,” Johnny protested. “That’s my dad.”
Abby turned on him. “No kidding. The judge is your uncle, too. It’s time this baloney stopped in this town.”
Evan would love to run for sheriff. His right ankle started to tremble, heading up to his knee. He pressed a hand on his thigh to try and stop the movement while ignoring the pain. “I’m afraid that’s not in the cards for me,” he said, effectively cutting off all debate with a harsh tone.
Dr. Lopez jumped and then reached for manila files from the briefcase by her chair. “Johnny? Since you’re new to the group, let’s start with you today. You were arrested for battery of your wife and a police officer.”
Johnny rolled his eyes. “I didn’t hit Louise, and the cop came at me first.” He looked at Lopez’s breasts. “I wasn’t angry, either.”
“My eyes are up here, junior,” Lopez said, her tone hard.
Johnny grinned and looked up at her face. “Your eyes aren’t your best feature.”
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