by Wendy Haley
“See ya,” she said to her handsome new neighbor. As she walked past Gabriel, she added. “You look terrible.”
He didn’t so much as glance at her. His gaze was focused on the handsome neighbor, and there was enough hostility in those ice blue eyes to start World War III.
For a moment, Rae was surprised. Then she smiled. He thought...he thought the neighbor was her overnight guest. And if she wasn’t mistaken, that hostility had a definite tinge of green to it. Oh, this was too good!
“Coming, Detective?” she cooed.
He made a growly noise deep in his throat as he followed her outside. The sky was full of scudding dark clouds that matched the surliness in his expression.
“You must be one of those people who aren’t human until they get that first cup of coffee in the morning,” she said.
Gabriel resisted the urge to shake her. Her eyes were full of laughter and secrets, and she stirred him to his soul. “Who was that?” he demanded.
“Who?” she asked, all innocence.
“You know who.”
She put her hand on her hip. “You’re a detective, aren’t you? So detect.”
With that, she turned and walked away. She wanted to glance over her shoulder, but that would spoil the effect. It gave her a great deal of pleasure—something her conscience might have to deal with later—to discomfit him as much as he’d discomfited her.
“Rae.”
Gabriel’s dark-velvet voice sent goose bumps racing along her arms. She kept walking.
“Rae.”
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him driving slowly alongside her. She turned her gaze forward and kept walking. If he started with the flashing lights again, she didn’t want to know.
“Hello, Rae!”
She turned to see Mr. Fedderman, the florist, waving at her from behind a bank of multicolored blooms. “Morning, Mr. Fedderman,” she said, joining him.
“Did the flowers last all right?” he asked.
Rae blinked. She didn’t have the slightest recollection of what had happened to the bouquet. But Mr. Fedderman looked so earnest that she didn’t have the heart to tell him. “Sure, they were great,” she said.
“I’ve got something else for you,” he said.
She put her hands up in a warning gesture. “I forget to water them, I forget to feed them, I forget to open the curtains—”
“This one will tell you when it needs to be fed.”
“Huh?”
The old man bent, retrieving something from the basket at his feet. Something that squirmed and whimpered and wagged a tail....
“No,” Rae said. “Mr. Fedderman—”
“Bertrice had pups,” he said. “Full-blood Australian shepherd, this little man is.”
“No.”
He thrust the little beastie at her. Rae found herself holding a warm and wiggly puppy. He licked her hands and wrists—everything he could reach—then turned adoring eyes to her.
“Blue eyes!” she wailed.
“He likes you,” Mr. Fedderman said.
Rae held the puppy against her chest. He immediately started chewing on her buttons, creating a wet, slimy spot on her skin. Something soft and very unwelcome bloomed in her heart, and she groaned, realizing that she was lost. “That was rotten,” she said. “You knew he was cute, you knew he’d lick me—”
“Take him, Rae Ann,” the florist said. “He’s yours.”
“Now, took—”
“Take him, Rae Ann,” another, deeper voice said.
“Mind your own beeswax, MacLaren,” she snarled.
“Feisty, isn’t she?” Gabriel asked the florist. “And she seems to be mad at me. Do you think flowers would help?”
“Would I be in this business if I didn’t?” the old man asked. “Now, you let Fedderman give you some advice, son. For the man in just a little trouble, a mixed bouquet. If you’re in deep do-do, nothing but roses will do.”
“I’m not angry at him,” Rae said,
Mr. Fedderman shot her a bird-bright glance. “No?”
“In fact,” she continued, “I hardly know him.”
“Ah.”
The old man was fairly beaming now. Accepting it as a lost cause, Rae tucked the puppy into the crook of her arm and started off down the sidewalk. She hadn’t gone ten feet when Gabriel’s big hand wrapped around her upper arm, pulling her to a halt.
“That wasn’t funny, Rae,” he growled.
“You just don’t have a good sense of humor,” she retorted.
“Get in the car.”
“I’m on my way to work.”
“I’ll drive you there.”
“That won’t be necessary,” she replied. Loftily.
“Get in the car.”
She eyed him speculatively, weighing the price of defiance. Too high, she decided. He looked annoyed enough to toss her over his shoulder and carry her if he had to.
Not a good idea, she thought. Not with her nerves thrumming like wires and the blood surging through her veins in a molten tide. Oh, no.
“Oh, all right,” she snapped.
Holding her arm as far from her body as she could, she waited for him to release her. After a moment, he did. He stepped past her to open the car door, handing her in with extreme courtesy.
“Remember.” Mr. Fedderman called. “Roses!”
Gabriel waved to the old man, then swung out into traffic. He glanced at Rae out of the corner of his eye. He’d spent the night in utter torment. Damn her. Only the most stringent willpower had kept him from marching up to that apartment, kicking the door in and staking his claim to his woman.
His woman? His woman? His cynical cop’s mind hooted with incredulous laughter. Rae Ann Boudreau was the subject of police surveillance on an important case.
He shot her a look. She held the puppy close, pretending not to notice that he was licking her neck. Gabriel didn’t blame the dog; he had a definite urge to lick her neck, too.
“What are you going to name him?” he asked.
She shrugged. “I’ve never had a dog.”
“He’s got to have a name. Something that fits his personality.”
Rae cocked her head to one side, studying the dog. “I dunno,” she said slowly. “He’s awful wriggly and slobbery. No dignity at all. If I name him something that fits him now, he’ll never live it down.”
“So give him a name he’ll grow into.”
“Okay.” But Rae’s mind remained blank. Finally, in desperation, she said, “Tom. I’ll call him Tom.”
Gabriel’s brows went up, a gesture far more eloquent than words. Rae instantly went on the defensive.
“It was my grandpa’s name,” she said.
“Rae, this is a dog.”
She shot him a glare. “Okay. I’ll call him Tom the Dog.”
“Let me see him,” MacLaren said.
Rae handed the puppy to him. Cradling the little beast in one big hand, he held him up. “You look awfully pleased with yourself, fella,” he said as the dog tried frantically to reach him with his tongue. “Found yourself a cushy deal, didn’t you?”
“What’s cushy about it?” Rae demanded.
He glanced at her, and there was such need in his eyes that her throat went dry. He handed Tom back to her, and for a moment she thought his hand shook.
“You’re thinking about putting him to work?” he asked.
“Doing what,” she retorted. “Herding deadbeats around?”
“Sure. Let him serve summonses. Then you could retire.”
She laughed. “Right. He’ll probably grow up to be a lazy slug and eat me out of house and home. And speaking of eating, there’s a pet store a few blocks up on the right. Would you mind stopping? I want to pick up some things.”
“Like puppy food, doggie treats?”
“Well, yeah.”
“I told you, Tom the Lucky Dog,” Gabriel said.
Tom barked, apparently agreeing with that assessment. Then, before Rae could react, th
e puppy launched himself at Gabriel. The little dog seized the detective’s belt loop and savaged it happily.
Instead of pushing the puppy away, Gabriel laughed.
That deep, joyful sound impaled her, made her feel as though she’d been struck with lightning. Her heart gave a lurch, then stuttered into high gear.
Gabriel reached down with his free hand and wiggled his fingers. Tom, sensing live prey, pounced. Amusement sparkled in Gabriel’s eyes, and his grin almost matched the puppy’s in pure delight. For the first time, Rae saw him with all his barriers down. It was devastating. He was devastating.
“Hey, watch this,” he said.
He rolled Tom over onto his back and began to gently scratch the little dog’s rounded stomach. Tom’s hind leg began to rotate. The harder Gabriel scratched, the faster the puppy’s leg rotated. Finally, Tom’s eyes glazed, and his jaws went slack.
“Look at him,” she said. “He loves it.”
“Works every time,” Gabriel said.
He looked up at the very moment she lifted her gaze to his face. Everything in her focused to a single point: Gabriel MacLaren.
And then she knew what had happened to her.
Her stomach went into a steep dive. Everything seemed preternaturally clear, edges sharper, colors brighter than she’d ever seen before. This shouldn’t be happening. She’d spent the three years since her marriage building a fortress against this very thing. And Gabriel had sneaked over the walls and into her treasure room while she was still trying to defend the drawbridge.
She’d fallen in love with him.
It had happened in that strange, powerful moment when their gazes had first met. Her heart had known, and her soul.
Oh, no. Not this, not with him. He’d tear her heart out for his job. She had to find some defenses, fast, or she’d regret ever being born.
She fled the car the moment Gabriel pulled to a stop in front of the store. But she soon found that the pet store held hazards of its own. There were too many choices, and she had too little knowledge. Finally, the clerk took pity on her.
“Do you need some help, miss?” he asked.,
Rae nodded. “I need puppy stuff.”
The clerk smiled, and Rae got a definite whiff of spider-to-the-fly pheromones. “No problem, miss.”
Twenty minutes later, she headed back to the car. She carried a bulging shopping bag in each hand.
“What did they get you for?” Gabriel asked.
Rae tossed the bags into the back seat. “Fifty-seven eighty-one.”
“Happens with every free dog,” he said:
“If I’d known then what I know now...” she muttered darkly. Then she looked at Tom, who lay on his back in Gabriel’s lap.
“Cute, ain’t he?” Gabriel asked.
Rae’s gaze dropped to his mouth, an involuntary response to the surge of her own desire. She loved this man. Hopelessly, helplessly, drawn to him like a moth to a flame. He would surely burn her.
Apparently unaware of the agitated state of her emotions, he put the car in gear and headed toward her office. A few minutes more, she told herself. She’d get away, back to the safe, solid reality of her life. Maybe then she could get her emotions back into some semblance of order.
The moment he pulled up in front of her office building, she reached for the puppy, intending to slide out and escape. But Gabriel captured her hand with his, trapping it against his thigh. Rae’s breathing changed. His leg was iron hard beneath her hand, and warm.
“Don’t run off yet,” he said.
“I’ve got work to do, MacLaren.”
Something hot and raw came into his eyes. “Who was that man?”
The wise thing to do would be to tell him about Barbara Smithfield and the kids. But Rae didn’t want to do the wise thing. He’d entered her world like a tornado, sweeping all the comfortable, conventional barriers aside. She wanted to back him off, to keep some part of her life inviolate.
“Why should I tell you anything?” she asked.
“Don’t push, Rae,” he growled.
“Don’t push?” she echoed incredulously. “Don’t push? What’s with you? You’re acting like a...a...”
“What?” he prompted.
Goaded, she said it. “Like a lover!” Her chest hurt as she pulled a breath in. “You have no right, MacLaren. No right!”
Tucking the puppy beneath one arm, she snatched her bags out from the back seat and got out of the car. Without a backward look, she marched up to her office.
After setting out food and water in the shiny chrome bowls she’d just bought, she laid an old newspaper on the floor. Then, arms akimbo, she stood looking down at Tom the Dog.
“You know what that paper’s for, right?” she asked.
He gazed adoringly into her eyes and wrung his stub of a tail.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” she said.
She booted her computer up. The screen saver seemed to mock her: I Am Lobo, I Hunt Alone.
“Yeah, right,” she muttered.
Now, in retrospect, she couldn’t believe she’d said what she’d said to Gabriel. Lover. It was a dangerous word, a provocative word, and she was sure she’d regret it.
“Back to work, Rae,” she said. “You know better than to let the personal intrude in your business.”
Determinedly, she put Gabriel MacLaren out of her mind. First, she called up a map of downtown Baltimore. This wasn’t any old map; she’d been working on it for years, adding the names of buildings, stores, restaurants, hotels, anything that might conceivably help in locating someone. She found Morton’s Grocery and traced the paths of the two intersecting streets.
The one running north and south didn’t interest her. But Fells Point, the east-west road, did, because it ended at the city’s waterfront area. Hotels abounded there, and the throngs of tourists would make it an ideal place for Smithfield to hide.
A whimper came from beside her. Distracted, she looked down to see Tom sitting beside her feet, looking plaintive.
“No,” she said. “You can’t come up. I’m working.”
He whined. Those round blue eyes seemed to get bluer and rounder. His mouth opened, and a long, drawn-out wail emerged. It bespoke utter loneliness and need.
“I’m working,” she complained.
Those eyes never wavered. After a moment, she scooped him up and set him in her lap. Happy now that he’d gotten his way, he curled up and went to steep.
“Mates,” Rae grumbled. “They’re all the same.”
She returned her attention to the computer screen. She liked the waterfront angle. Plenty of short-term rentals, lots of tourists—the perfect place to disappear for a while. Now, if only she could track him down.
Pulling the telephone closer, she called an old friend who just happened to own a travel agency. Amy had been of help before, and eagerly agreed to track down any reservations that might have been made in names on Barbara’s list.
“Better call me on the cellular,” Rae said. “Thanks a lot, girlfriend. I owe you.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Amy replied. “I’m an old married lady who gets vicarious pleasure out of your exciting life.”
Rae couldn’t help but laugh at the irony of the whole thing. She’d been working like a donkey for three solid years, and hadn’t had a date in all that time. And Amy thought her life was exciting? Sheesh!
But then, things had been looking up since she’d met Gabriel MacLaren. Unfortunately, she wasn’t sure the upturn had been an improvement.
Cradling the sleeping puppy, she went to look out the window. MacLaren’s Taurus was gone, but a brown Crown Victoria that fairly screamed unmarked police car occupied the same spot. Rae smiled. Apparently even arrogant vice cops needed to sleep sometime.
A half hour later, Amy called back. Propping the phone between her shoulder and jaw, Rae called up her computer map again.
“I’ve got something for you,” Amy said. “First, a Peter Smithfield registered at the Days Inn
from the twenty-third to the thirtieth of last month. Then a John H. Walsh—”
“That’s his cousin’s name,” Rae said, consulting her list.
“Right. Walsh stayed at the Villa Bay from the thirty-first to the fifth. Then Peter Johnstone checked in to the Arabian from the eighth to the fourteenth.”
“Peter Johnstone is an alias he’s used before,” Rae said.
With her forefinger, she touched the map. The three hotels were all within walking distance of Sweetbrier Road, and the bus.
“Now,” Amy said, “the pièce de résistance. I’ve got a long-term condo rental by a Sylvia Applegate—”
“His girlfriend,” Rae said with a glance at the list.
“More fool she. Anyway, on the fifteenth, she took a three-month lease on a two bedroom in the Garden Towers on West Terrelton Avenue—4B.”
Rae found the building on the map. “I see it. Hmm, the Tropical Breeze Hotel is right across the street. The time has come for me to take a little vacation down by the water. Thanks, Amy. You’re a gem.”
“Yes, I am,” Amy replied with a laugh.
Rae started to say goodbye, then stopped. “Hey, do you happen to know who owns the condo?”
“Give me a minute, it’s probably on the listing...oh, here it is. Elliston Enterprises, Ltd.”
“A corporation?” Rae asked, surprised.
“Sure. Happens all the time.”
Rae bid her a hasty goodbye, knowing that she had to move on this, and fast. First, she had to ditch the cops. Gabriel had. proved to be very hard to unload. But this other guy, now... she might be able to work with him.
“Why didn’t you leave town?” she muttered, staring at the screen. “If I were in your shoes, I’d be in Alaska by now.”
Interesting. For a brief moment, she found herself wishing she could work with Gabriel on this. She had the feeling they’d make a very effective team. Hah! Rae Ann Boudreau, helping the cops. That would be the day.
Beneath the cynicism, however, lurked a cold little kernel of regret. She saw it, turned away from it. After all, one couldn’t regret something that had never existed.
She and Gabriel were on opposite sides of the fence. They always would be. She’d have to change the man himself, and she’d learned the hard way the impossibility of that task.