She hated this loss of control, ever since her first migraine at fifteen. At least their frequency was rare, maybe one every year or two. It shouldn't have surprised her to get one now, after her father's death and everything else that had happened in the past week.
"Danni, are you all right?" came Nick's low, gentle voice.
She took another swipe at her damp forehead, then pushed herself upright. She leaned against the stall's door until her legs stopped their impersonation of Jell-O and eased the door open. Nick stood in front of her, looking worried.
"It's a migraine, isn't it?" he asked softly.
She gave him one tiny nod and shuffled to the sink to splash cold water on her face. She groped for the paper towels, and Nick passed her a handful. Grateful, she dabbed at her forehead and cheeks. After tossing the towels into the wastebasket, she gripped the edge of the sink and hung her head.
"I'm sorry," she said. "If I'd known it would get this bad, I would've taken one of my pills before we left the house."
Nick made light, soothing circles across her hunched back. "Think you can make it out to my Jeep?"
"I hope so," she said with a weak smile.
Nick placed an arm around her shoulders, and she leaned into his side. He led her out of the rest room—the men's, she noticed with a grimace—and down the hallway. She was grateful that they didn't run into anyone. As soon as they stepped outside into the artificially lit night, the rotating red and blue lights sent a blinding jolt of pain through her head. She closed her eyes and buried her face against Nick's shoulder, knowing he would guide her safely to his car.
Once in the vehicle, Danni leaned her head back against the headrest and closed her eyes. She was grateful Nick remained silent as he maneuvered the SUV out of the labyrinth of prowl cars and forensic vans.
It'd been a long time since she'd had such a bad migraine.
And even longer since she trusted anyone as much as she trusted Nick.
Chapter Ten
Muted sounds of a dog barking and the occasional car engine eased Danni's journey back to the living. She kept her eyes closed, caught in the never-never land between asleep and awake.
How did she get here—wherever here was? What time was it?
Something damp brushed against her cheek, forcing her to abandon her floating haven and seek answers. She flinched when a blurred furry face with an open mouth and lolling tongue filled her vision.
"Gus, down," came a quiet command.
The dog obediently dropped to the floor beside the couch, laying her head on her crossed front legs. Her brown gaze, however, remained on Danni.
A weight settled beside Danni's legs on the sofa.
"Welcome back," Nick said in a low voice. "How're you feeling?"
Everything returned in a rush: the shooting at the center, the ensuing onslaught of her migraine, Nick guiding her to his vehicle, and the long, painful ride to her father's house. After that, things got hazy. Her jacket and shoulder holster were missing, and she had a vague recollection of Nick removing them. Her shoes, too, were gone.
The living room was dim, but the slanted sunlight coming through the sheer curtains allowed her to make out Nick sitting by her feet at the end of the sofa. He sat at an angle, leaning toward her, his elbows braced on his knees and his hands clasped.
"Better," she answered, pushing her hair off her forehead. "How long?"
Nick glanced at his watch. "It's nearly eight. You've been out all night."
Danni wasn't surprised. Migraines did that to her. It was just that she usually woke up without a nurse on duty. She glanced down and found herself covered by a soft blanket, then looked at Nick again. He wore the same clothes he'd had on last night, although his hair was tousled and his whiskers needed their morning shave. She noticed a rumpled blanket on the big recliner and realized he must've stayed down here all night to keep an eye on her. That revelation made her glance away uncomfortably.
"How's your headache?" he asked.
"Pretty much gone." Her fingers curled into the worn blanket. "If I take my medication and lie down as soon as it comes on, it usually goes away within a few hours."
"But because you were too stubborn to say anything, you didn't take your medication or lie down, so it was an especially bad one." Nick's smile tempered his blunt words.
Her face heated because she knew he was right. Damn him for reading her so well.
"I had a friend who had migraines," he added. "He was almost as stubborn as you."
His teasing tone made her roll her eyes and smile, even as his comment made her wonder about his past. She'd known Nick for over fifteen years, had sex with him two nights ago, yet she didn't know him. He'd told her he'd been an Army Ranger, which she knew was an elite group. Special training, special missions. Special men.
"Are you hungry?" Nick asked, interrupting her thoughts. "I had the corner grocery deliver some food an hour ago."
Danni focused on her stomach and realized how empty it was. No wonder—she'd lost everything when she'd gotten sick last night at the Center. "I could eat."
"I'll put something together." Nick stood but remained beside the couch, looking down at her. "I'm sorry I stirred up bad memories."
"What?"
"That's when your headache started, after Mrs. Warner left your office." His lips pulled downward in a rueful frown. "When I asked about your mother."
Danni's lungs felt tight, and her eyes suddenly burned. She leaned over to pet Gus to hide her reaction. "I hadn't remembered that he kicked my mother out of the house. I always thought she left on her own. Dad never told me."
"Maybe he was trying to protect you."
Danni swallowed hard, trying to ignore the festering anger that rolled through her, but she couldn't. "Maybe he was just protecting himself."
Although she kept her gaze aimed at Gus, Danni could feel Nick's scrutiny. She was afraid to look up and see what was in his eyes. Afraid there would be disappointment and reproach. Finally, he moved away, and Danni let out a shaky breath.
She threw off her blanket and stood. Her bladder sent out a warning signal, and she hurried upstairs to the bathroom.
When she returned to the main floor, she found two steaming cups of coffee and two bowls of grayish matter on the table.
"I hope you like oatmeal," Nick said, sitting down. "It's the only thing I can make without burning it."
Although she wasn't a big fan of oatmeal, Danni sat down to eat it with an abundance of milk and sugar. Realizing she was famished, she ate quickly and scraped the bowl clean, then sat back to drink her coffee at a more leisurely pace. She was grateful Nick didn't feel the need to talk. It was nice, though, to share breakfast with a warm body. God knew it was rare nowadays she awoke in the company of a man.
The fact that it was Nick only made it better.
They rinsed their bowls and placed them in the dishwasher. Nick leaned against a counter and crossed his arms.
"They shot at the center because I was there," he said, his low voice filled with vehemence.
"We don't know that," Danni said, startled by his muted anger.
"Don't we?" His eyes flashed. "They could've killed or hurt some of those kids, and it would've been my fault."
Danni didn't find this martyr side of him very attractive. "No. The blame lies squarely on whoever did the shooting."
"I was the one who stirred things up by asking about Paddy and getting you involved, then with Matt getting killed..." Nick took a deep breath, visibly trying to compose himself. "I have to figure out what's going on before anyone else gets hurt."
Danni could feel waves of anguish rolling off him. "If you're to blame, then I am, too," she said firmly. "We're in this together."
Nick tilted his head and studied her. "I don't want anything to happen to you, Danni."
The intensity of his voice made her look away. "I can take care of myself. If nothing else, Dad taught me that."
Nick took her chin between his forefinger and
thumb and tilted her face upward. "I heard what Levin said last night." His eyes darkened. "You always had Paddy's approval. You don't have to prove anything to anybody."
He was wrong. Danni had never lived up to her father's expectations, even after she became a police officer. Oh, he'd been proud when she'd graduated from the Academy and when his precinct had hired her. But she'd seen the look in his eyes—the longing for the son he never had. The son Nick had become.
She turned her head, forcing Nick to release her. "The only thing I want to prove is that Dad didn't commit suicide."
Nick scrubbed his face, his grizzled whiskers rasping against his palms. When he looked at Danni, she couldn't tell if he was infuriated or worried. "I shouldn't have gotten you involved in this."
Danni glared at him. "The hell you shouldn't have. He was my father."
"And if something happens to you, he's going to come back here and kick my ass."
Danni stifled the spiteful words that sprang to her tongue. "I'm going to shower. We have a meeting with Beth this morning."
She spun around and ran upstairs, startling Gus. Keeping her mind blank, Danni grabbed some clothes from the bag she'd dropped in her room yesterday afternoon. She carried them into the bathroom, turned on the tap, and stripped as the water heated. Once she stepped under the spray, she gave in to her seething frustration.
Wasn't it enough that Nick stole her father's affections years ago? Wasn't it enough that he'd come back home and once again insinuated himself in her father's life?
Why, after her dad's death, did Nick still deny her the right to be her father's daughter?
Where did he get off telling her she shouldn't be involved? If anybody had the right to learn the truth, it was her. Paddy had been her father, and she'd loved him. Her only sin had been in not telling him, and her penance would be finding his murderer.
Resolve strengthened within her. It was her right and her responsibility to find the killer, no matter what Nick wanted.
She showered quickly and dressed. As she was tucking her knit shirt into her jeans, she heard the telephone ring. Dashing out of the bathroom, she shouted downstairs, "I got it."
Danni nabbed the phone in her father's bedroom, keeping her gaze averted from the pale spatters on the wall. "Hello."
"Danni, it's Sam."
She smiled, and some of her tension leached away. "Hi, Sam. What's up?"
"I think I should be asking you that question. I had coffee with Harry Rodgers after he came off duty this morning. He told me about what happened at the center."
Danni walked to a window and pushed the curtain back so she could see the street below. Sarah Countryman, wearing a wide-brimmed straw hat, was working in her flower garden, and a man was standing impatiently on the boulevard, waiting for his poodle to finish watering a signpost. The ordinary sights made last night's events more surreal.
"Nobody was hurt," she finally said.
"That was pure luck," Sam said. "Harry said, judging from the shell casings, seventy-five to a hundred rounds were fired at the building."
Although she'd been there, she hadn't realized the number had been that high. "Do they have any suspects?"
"No, but the gang unit has gotten involved. They're going to poke around, see if anything's been brewing."
Even though she wasn't convinced it was a simple gang shooting, Danni said, "Good idea."
There was a long pause at the other end of the line. "What's going on, Danni girl?"
Ignorance seemed the easiest route. "What do you mean?"
"What're you and Rocky up to?"
"I told you. We don't think Dad killed himself."
"Dammit, Danni, why can't you just let it go?"
Danni leaned her forehead against the cool glass. "I have to do this, Sam."
He muttered something Danni couldn't understand, then asked, "Did the shooting have anything to do with your investigation?"
"I don't know. Maybe." She sighed, and her warm breath fogged the window. It didn't feel right holding out on the one man she'd always trusted without reservation, so she explained about Matt Arbor and the connection with her father. "If somebody's getting nervous, they might have followed us to the center."
"Then staged the shooting as a warning?"
"It's possible."
"But why kill Paddy? And this boy? What's going on?"
"If I knew that, I'd have the answers, Sam."
"You're thinking corruption, aren't you?"
Danni shifted her weight from one stocking foot to the other. "We both know it happens."
"And Paddy wouldn't stand by and let it continue if he found out." Sam sounded resigned.
"I may not have known him that well, but I do know Dad would've never accepted a bribe or covered for someone who did. That could be the reason he was killed."
"All right," Sam finally said. "I'll do a little digging with my sources in the department. If I learn anything, I'll let you know."
"Thank you," Danni said with heartfelt gratitude.
After a moment's silence, Sam asked, "So, are you and Rocky getting along any better?"
Danni smiled despite herself. "Like cats and dogs."
Sam chuckled. "Paddy had a lot of respect for Rocky. I know he trusted him."
Danni's amusement faded. "Yeah, I know."
"Do you trust him?"
Nick had come to her with his suspicions, then proceeded to irritate the hell out of her. He also punched too many of her buttons, which was why they'd ended up doing the horizontal tango their first night together. And if she hadn't come down with a migraine, there could easily have been a repeat performance last night.
But did she trust him?
"I trust him more than I trust anybody on the force right now," she finally replied.
"Then stay close. If you're right, you're both targets."
A shiver shimmied down Danni's spine. "We will."
"Be careful, Danni girl."
"I will," she promised. "Bye."
She hung up the phone and put it back in its cradle. The sound of the shower roused her out of her somber thoughts. She went into her bedroom and shoved her feet into a pair of black Skechers. Feeling half dressed without her shoulder holster, she walked to the bathroom door. The shower had been turned off.
"Where's my gun?" she asked, raising her voice.
The door suddenly opened, and a cloud of steam emerged. Danni blinked and found Nick, wearing only a towel around his trim waist, standing in the doorway. His damp hair was mussed, spiked in every direction like he'd just toweled it. Water droplets remained on his chest, and her gaze followed one as it rolled down between his pecs, leaving a damp trail through the light smattering of hairs. For one insane moment, she wanted to lean forward and lick away the droplet and taste Nick's skin.
"Top dresser drawer in your room," he said.
Her heart pounding and her body tingling, Danni forcibly lifted her gaze to his face. "What?"
He smiled crookedly, but his eyes smoldered, turning blue to stormy gray. "Your shoulder holster. It's in your dresser. Do you want me to take you into your bedroom and show you?" His silky tone resonated with double meaning.
Danni snapped out of her sensual review of Nick's near-naked body and felt her face flush with embarrassment. She took a step back, putting more space between them. The sizzling tension eased to a low undercurrent of awareness. "Uh, no, thanks, I can find it."
Danni escaped to her room, shutting the door behind her. She dropped onto her bed and closed her eyes, but she could still see Nick's broad shoulders, the breadth of his mchest, and the delineation of muscle in his arms and torso. Her hormones were charging to Nick's reveille. She tried to order them to retreat, but her mind taunted her with memories of their lovemaking: the feel of his lips on hers, the smooth-coarse texture of his chest, the sleek skin on his back and buttocks.
She lightly touched her sensitive nipples through the layers of shirt and bra. She imagined it was Nick's hands, and hea
t shot through her, hardening the nipples and increasing the tight coil in her belly.
Suddenly she jerked her hands to her sides and flopped back onto the bed to stare at the ceiling. Was she so deprived that just the sight of Nick's body turned her into a sex addict?
To distract herself, she studied the faded paint on the ceiling and counted the number of ridges. Gradually, arousal's heat cooled, and she stood.
Trying to forget her humiliating reaction, she focused on donning her shoulder holster and checking her revolver. She was grateful Nick had enough experience with guns to empty the cylinder before placing the weapon in the drawer.
Digging into her closet, she pulled out an old black leather jacket that reached midthigh. With nothing left to do, Danni took a deep breath and left her room.
She heard Nick downstairs talking to Gus and couldn't help but smile. Even though he irritated the hell out of her sometimes, Nick had qualities she admired and respected. His meddling with Mrs. Warner had annoyed her, but she'd also understood he was trying to help the woman. And as much as she hated to admit it, she could see why he didn't want her working on her father's case. She didn't agree with his reasoning, but she could respect it.
Realizing she was wasting time, she descended the stairs. Nick, now dressed in brown jeans and a snug black T-shirt, was in the kitchen filling Gus's food and water bowls. He straightened when she entered the room.
"Gus should be okay in the house this morning," Nick said. "As long as we stop by early this afternoon to let her out."
"No problem," Danni said, keeping her gaze averted from the cotton stretched taut over his pectorals. She checked the side pocket of her backpack and pulled out her truck keys. "Beth's expecting us at ten, so we should get going."
Nick nodded, grabbed his weathered brown leather jacket, and followed Danni out of the house.
Sarah Countryman was kneeling in her flower garden, just as she'd been when Danni had seen her through her father's bedroom window. She wore her usual housedress with an apron over it.
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