And apparently she was doing just that today, because she didn’t answer repeated phone calls. Dean left several messages while he and Sanchez reviewed old case files.
He had better luck with the medical examiner’s office. After a little prodding, he got the ME to agree to release Sandy Taylor’s body.
He reached Paul Taylor at home around 5:00 p.m. to give him the message. The grieving husband’s words were now definitely slurred, so obviously he’d kept drinking all day. Too bad. Would the information about his wife penetrate the thick fog of alcohol clouding Taylor’s brain? Would he even remember their conversation? Dean felt for the guy. Maybe he’d suggest June reach out to her friend’s widower to check on how he was doing. No question June would attend any services. Would she want him to accompany her? He would if she asked.
Dean sat back in his chair and relaxed, his mood drastically improved as he thought about calling June. Sanchez had gone off shift an hour ago, and he was free to go, as well. June was expecting him after work, although it was too late now to pick her up at the animal clinic. He planned to grab some Chinese so they could eat in. He didn’t want her out in the open until he found the shooter. They’d discuss his trip to Melbourne and hopefully—
His desk phone rang, and he grabbed it. “Hammer.”
“Detective Hammer, this is Agent Don Gillis.”
“Yes, Agent Gillis. Thank you for the files. I’ve spent the day reviewing them.”
“I hope they were helpful.”
“Somewhat,” Dean said vaguely. Gillis hadn’t provided anything new. “Every bit of information helps. It’s just a matter of finding the right thread to pull.”
“I hear you. By the way, you should probably know June is up to her old tricks.”
“What are you talking about?”
“She and one of her colleagues, a man named Jared, confronted a poacher at a trap down in the Redlands last night.”
“Poacher? Explain.”
“Some jerks like to capture wild birds and sell them to collectors. The captive birds always die within weeks, if not days, but, hey, someone made a tidy profit, right? June’s bird group tries to stop the trapping.”
“And you’re telling me June traveled to the Redlands to confront a criminal over a trapped bird?” Dean demanded, a slow burn of anger igniting in his gut.
“Yeah.”
“I’m assuming this was out in the middle of the woods where wild birds hang out, somewhere isolated.”
“You got it. I’ve warned her repeatedly about this sort of activity,” Gillis said, “but she ignores me. I’m worried she’s going to get hurt. Maybe you’ll have better luck convincing her.”
Dean closed his eyes. Fat chance, since she obviously ignores me, too. “Yeah, thanks, man.”
Dean sat at his desk for five long minutes trying to wrestle his fury into a manageable, ordinary anger. Did the woman have a death wish? How could she take a chance like that with someone already gunning for her?
Yeah, he understood how she felt about the stupid birds. He even understood why she wanted to save them all. The pet-shop escapade had been dangerous, yes, but confronting a criminal in the middle of an isolated forest was reckless beyond any possible— He paused his careening thoughts and drummed his fingers across the metal desk.
Reckless. He was accusing June of behaving recklessly. How ironic that he was furious with her for the very thing he’d been busted back to patrol for not so very long ago.
He shook his head. But he was a trained officer, had never taken a risk that wasn’t justified. How could he convince her to stop this shit until he identified the sniper?
* * *
JUNE EXITED THE bus at the Enclave’s stop and hurried under the overhang to get out of view of anybody watching for her. Damn Dean. She hated having to live this way.
But a buzz of anticipation surged through her as she conjured an image of his penetrating blue eyes. She wanted to get upstairs and clean the aviary before he arrived. Entering the Enclave’s lobby, she felt a smile form as she decided to take a quick shower herself. A girl should always be prepared.
“Hello, Junie,” Magda called out.
“Hi, Maggie Mae. I’m expecting a visitor later.”
Magda nodded. “I’ll send him up.”
Wondering how Magda knew her visitor would be a male, June punched the button to call the elevator. Am I that obvious?
When the elevator doors opened, June stiffened. Mr. DiNovio stood inside. As horrified recognition spread across his face, and his eyes widened in what June took for fear. His face flushed a deep red.
What a way to destroy a good mood. But she’d known this would happen sooner or later.
Very dramatically, she took a huge step to the side, gesturing for him to pass by.
Mr. DiNovio swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing, and hurried away without saying a word. June glared after him. What, no apology? Realizing the elevator doors were closing, she jumped inside the car.
While cleaning the aerie, she refused to brood on her neighbor. She’d much rather think about more pleasant things—like Dean. How did his trip to Melbourne turn out? She wondered if the shrink gave him the information he wanted about Kublin or if that all-important patient confidentiality got in the way. As she changed Laz’s water, she remembered Dean could be very persuasive. Likely he’d had at least some success.
Lazarus squawked when she returned with sliced banana and apple.
“Does that mean you agree with me about Detective Hammer, Laz?” she asked.
The macaw dipped his head, a sure sign that he wanted attention, and June stroked the silky soft feathers.
“You’re getting better, aren’t you, boy?” she murmured. Head still lowered, Laz pressed deeper into her touch, shifting his weight from claw to claw. “Feels good, doesn’t it?”
She shivered, wished Dean would get his slow ass here and moved into the bathroom to prepare for his arrival.
Warm and relaxed from a shower, she found a bottle of Uncle Mike’s favorite Napa Valley cabernet and pulled the cork to allow the wine to breathe. Next she arranged a wedge of smoked Gouda and pepper crackers on a plate. As she placed two crystal stem glasses beside the wine bottle, she frowned at her offering on the granite counter. Is this an obvious seduction? What’s come over me?
She shrugged. So what? Dean wouldn’t care.
She grabbed the phone when it rang.
“Detective Hammer is on his way,” Magda announced.
“Thanks.”
“Just a heads-up, Junie. He doesn’t appear to be in as good a mood as you.”
Worried that something had gone wrong in Melbourne, June waited by the front door. Had he learned something ominous about Kublin? She peeked through the security window as soon as the elevator pinged. When Dean appeared, she flung open the front door.
God, he looked good. How could she forget how tall he was, how muscular?
“I confirmed it was you,” she said before he could complain about greeting him before the knock.
“How nice to know you are so very concerned about safety.” Dean marched into the room, barely looking at her. He carried a bag emanating a delicious garlicky fragrance and plopped it on her dining room table.
She stared after him. This wasn’t exactly how she’d envisioned their reunion. She locked the door and reset the alarm.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
He whirled. “Were you going to tell me about your bird-rescue adventure yesterday?”
“Oh. That.” Shit. How did he find out?
“Yeah, that.”
“I didn’t go alone.”
He advanced swiftly back in her direction, forcing her to retreat a step.
“That’s right,” he said, looming over her, hands
on his hips. “You invited the intrepid Jared, a man who wants to jump your bones, out into the middle of a secluded forest.”
“No,” she said, lifting her chin. “He invited me.”
“Oh, that makes it better. What were you thinking?” Dean demanded, breathing hot fury at her.
“I was thinking I could save beautiful buntings.”
“Damn the buntings! What if the shooter followed you out there? Your body might not have been found for days. Maybe weeks. Maybe never.”
She took a deep breath. “I called Agent Gillis. Plus, I made certain I wasn’t followed.”
He placed his large hands on her shoulders as if he was going to shake her. He didn’t. He stared into her eyes, searching, as if trying to understand her, and merely gave a gentle squeeze. “June,” he said softly, “how could you be certain?”
She stared up at him, opened her mouth to speak, but couldn’t formulate a response.
And then she didn’t have to because his mouth was on hers, hungry, greedy and, yes, more than a little angry as he pulled her toward him. Of course Dean was angry. She’d ignored his warnings. She flung her arms around his neck, combed her fingers into his thick ebony hair. But he still wants me. Even if he can’t control me.
Still kissing her, he lowered his hand to her buttocks and pressed her hard against his erection. Helpless to resist him, not wanting to resist him, she moaned into his mouth. Without saying another word, he lifted her off her feet and carried her into the bedroom.
* * *
DEAN LAY BESIDE JUNE, lazily stroking her arm, still needing to find a way to convince her of the danger. Trouble was, after such explosive, satisfying sex, his brain wasn’t quite ready to work again.
“How did you find out about the bunting trip?” June asked. Her cheek rested on his chest, so he felt the soft whisper of her breath as she spoke.
“Agent Gillis called me.”
“You talked to Gillis?”
“I asked for his file on your parents’ case.”
“Oh,” she said softly. “Of course.”
“Were you going to tell me about your trip into the jungle?”
She rolled away, and he had his answer. So they’d already started keeping things from each other. Hell, this thing with June—whatever it was—had barely begun and was already about to crash and burn. Strange. He was the one who usually kept secrets.
Hadn’t he decided not to tell her his new theory where her parents were innocent? Maybe he should rethink that.
“I knew you’d be angry that I went out into the hammock,” she said in a quiet voice, staring at the ceiling. “I didn’t want to fight with you.”
“I can’t protect you if I don’t know what you’re doing.”
“I alerted Gillis. So did Jared. And the trapper was a woman we knew, a member of our club even. We were never in any danger.”
“But you didn’t know that.”
“No.”
She rose from the bed. He watched her, enjoying the sight of her naked flesh, the strong, muscled lines of her lithe swimmer’s body. She had a natural grace that made her impossible to resist. And God, those gorgeous breasts. Long, sexy legs. He wondered if he’d ever get enough of her.
She wrapped a light blue silky-looking robe around herself, cinching it at the waist, and moved into the outer room without speaking.
Dean closed his eyes. This was why he’d made the rule to never get involved with women on his cases. Look at this shitty mess. Worrying about her would interfere with his focus on the evidence, on how to proceed with the investigation.
But he’d worry whether he’d made love to her or not. No point in denying himself the perks.
She returned carrying a tray of cheese and two glasses of wine. She placed the tray on a side table, sat next to him on the bed and held up a bit of cheese. Smiling, she moved the morsel toward his face to tempt him. He opened his mouth and took the length of her fingers inside, sucking as she withdrew. She closed her eyes, obviously enjoying the sensation.
He swallowed the tangy cheese, watching her face, wondering what she was thinking.
When she opened her eyes, she smoothed the tips of her fingers across his lips. Was this an apology? Not bad. But she wasn’t getting off this easy.
“You need some sustenance,” she said.
“You do wear me out, woman.”
“Thanks for bringing dinner.”
“Sure.” So they weren’t going to discuss the bunting trip anymore. Damn, but June was frustrating.
She handed him a glass of wine and raised hers in a toast. “I promise to tell you what I’m doing from now on.” She clinked her glass against his.
“So you don’t promise to behave. You just promise to tell me about reckless trips into the wild afterward?”
She raised her eyebrows. “Behave?”
“You know what I mean.” He tasted the wine, keeping his gaze locked on hers.
She took a sip of her own, staring at him over the rim of the glass.
The phone rang before either of them could say anything else. Obviously relieved by the interruption, June snatched the phone off the side table.
Her face clouded after her hello.
“Paul. Hi. How are you?”
Dean took another sip of wine. The grieving husband. How drunk was he by now?
* * *
SHE WAS GLAD that Paul had finally returned her calls—in part because his timing broke the tension between her and Dean. Nevertheless, June met his gaze. Paul Taylor, she mouthed.
Dean nodded and sat higher in bed.
“I’ve been worried,” she said into the phone. “I left several messages.”
“Yeah, I know,” Paul replied, with slurred words. “Sorry I haven’t called you back. Been...I don’t know. Not busy.”
“Is everything okay?” June wanted to snatch the words back the minute she said them. What a stupid question.
“Okay?” He laughed without humor.
June’s stomach clenched. She looked at Dean again and mouthed, He’s drunk.
Dean frowned, his gaze intent on her.
“Nothing is okay, June,” Paul said. “But you’d inquired about services, and I finally got Sandy’s body. The funeral is tomorrow night at Plymouth Funeral Home.”
“You chose the perfect place. Sandy loved the chapel there.”
“I know,” Paul said in a shaky voice. He sucked in a deep breath, then cleared his throat. “It’ll be a closed casket,” he said, his voice under control. “She doesn’t look much like the woman we remember.”
“Oh, Paul. Is there anything you need? Can I—”
“No. But thanks for the offer. Sandy’s mom is helping.”
June pictured her friend’s slender, normally cheerful mother. They had spoken a few days ago, one of the hardest calls June had ever made. “How is she doing?”
“I don’t know how to answer that. Listen, I’ve got to go. Got a lot of calls to make.”
“I understand.”
“See you tomorrow night. The visitation starts at five. Services are at seven. I’m inviting friends to the house after, but it’ll be a private interment for family only on Saturday morning.”
Paul disconnected without waiting for her goodbye. June held the receiver for a long moment before she replaced it on the side table. Paul’s call brought everything that had happened back into focus with a harsh kick to her gut. She ought to be ashamed. She’d been worried about her sexy new lover being angry with her when one of her oldest friends had been murdered and the family was planning a funeral.
But she’d been miserable, hiding inside herself for so long. Too long. It felt great to feel alive again. And now she was being sucked back into the pain of a life ended too soon. I’m so sorry,
Sandy.
“How is he?” Dean asked.
June shook her head and took a sip of wine. “Services are tomorrow night.”
“That was quick. He just got the body today.”
June swallowed. “Her mom told me they had everything in place waiting for the body to be released.”
Dean squeezed her hand. “Once she’s buried, he’ll be able to move on.”
“I suppose.” Her gaze drifted outside to the view of Biscayne Bay. The sun had gone down and lights were blinking on. “I hate funerals.”
“So you’re definitely going?”
She swung her gaze back to Dean. “Of course.”
“Do you want me to go with you?”
“You wouldn’t mind?”
He smiled and stroked her cheek. “I’ll be your backup.”
“That would be great. Thanks.” She placed her hand on his and smiled. His presence would be a comfort. Dean really could be a sweetheart when he wasn’t telling her what to do.
“I’ll probably sit in the back, though,” he said, placing the wineglass on the side table. “I could be an irritant to Mr. Taylor.”
“Poor Paul.” She heaved a sigh. Paul had never been much of a drinker, but now because of Sandy’s murder... She narrowed her eyes.
“Wait a minute. Backup? Oh, my God. Are you worried the sniper might come to the services?”
“There’s that possibility. The shooter will know you’d attend your friend’s funeral. Is there any way I can talk you out of going?”
“Not a chance.” She studied Dean’s serious face. “So you think the killer could be waiting to shoot me.”
He took her wine, placed it on the table beside his and grasped both of her hands. “I’ll make sure that doesn’t happen. Don’t worry. There’ll be more officers around the area besides me.”
“Because the police will be there searching for the murderer?”
“Right.”
She shook her head. “This is crazy.”
“We won’t be obvious. I promise that.”
Her Cop Protector Page 21