by Lara Lacombe
“This is fine,” he said, flashing a quick smile. “Are you absolutely certain the store was empty when you heard the sound in the back room?”
“Well, I thought I was alone,” Bea said, frowning. “But that clearly wasn’t the case.”
Micah made a thoughtful sound low in his throat. “Do you think a customer snuck into the back room while you weren’t looking?”
“No. I only had three customers yesterday, and I watched them all leave.” Former customers, she amended silently, as all three women had come to either cancel their dress orders or return a dress they’d previously purchased.
“All right.” He ran a hand through his hair, mussing the auburn strands. “We’ll need to keep your store closed tomorrow so the evidence techs can finish processing the scene—”
“Wait...what?” That seemed like a lot of trouble for what amounted to a hit-and-run attack.
Micah frowned, as if confused by her reaction. Then realization dawned in his eyes and his expression cleared. “You don’t know,” he said softly. “How could you?”
“Know what?” Bea asked. Her stomach churned uneasily at this sudden turn in the conversation. Something else had happened in the store, and given Micah’s reaction, it wasn’t good.
He took her hand, and she felt the calluses on his palm. “We found another Groom Killer victim in one of the dressing rooms.” His voice was soft, belying the horror of his words.
Bea felt the blood drain from her head. “What?” she whispered. Surely there had been some mistake. If word got out that the Groom Killer had struck again, and in her own bridal boutique, no less, her business would never recover.
Guilt flashed through her at the selfish thought and she shook her head. “Who?”
Micah didn’t need her to elaborate. “We think it’s Joey McBurn.”
Bea closed her eyes, picturing Joey’s fiancée. Angelina Cooper had come into the shop a few months ago, bubbling with excitement. Joey had just proposed, and Angelina was wasting no time planning their wedding. She’d tried on several dresses, but unfortunately, her tastes ran to the expensive and she hadn’t been able to afford her dream dress. Bea had tried to steer her to a similar, less pricey style, but Angelina hadn’t budged. She’d left the store, swearing she’d be back once she’d saved up enough money. She must have found something at the department store in town, because the wedding was tomorrow.
Or at least, it should have been.
Bea’s heart went out to the other woman. Did she even know Joey was dead? Or was she waiting at home, expecting him to walk through the door at any moment?
Micah leaned forward, his hand tightening on hers. “You’re the first person to encounter the Groom Killer and live to talk about it,” he said quietly. “I want to put you in protective custody, to make sure you’re safe in case the killer targets you again.”
Bea’s heart began to pound. “Do you really think that’s a possibility?” The Groom Killer went after men, not women. And she hadn’t seen anything in the dark—surely the killer would know Bea couldn’t identify them.
“I think it’s a risk we can’t afford to take.” He gave her hand a final squeeze and released it, and Bea immediately missed the warmth of his touch. “I can start the paperwork—”
“That won’t be necessary.”
Disappointment flashed across Micah’s face. “Bea, please,” he began, but she lifted her hand to cut him off.
“I’ll agree to a bodyguard, but only under one condition.”
“What’s that?” There was a note of wariness in his voice, as if he was worried about what she was going to say.
“It’s got to be you,” Bea said firmly. “No one else.”
“Me?” Micah made a strangled sound, and Bea fought the urge to laugh. She knew how ridiculous her request must seem to him. They hadn’t seen each other in years, and after the way he’d ended things between them, he probably figured she wanted nothing more to do with him.
Truth be told, Bea herself was surprised by the intensity of her determination. But she felt safe with Micah, and she knew he would protect her if the Groom Killer did come back around. Besides, maybe if they spent more time together she could finally get him out of her system and truly move on. The man had flaws—he was only human, after all. Hopefully seeing them up close again would be enough to take the shine off of her memories of their time together.
It was a long shot, but she was just desperate enough to take it.
Chapter 4
Micah stood frozen in place, too stunned to do much more than blink at Bea as he processed her words.
“You want me to...guard you?” He spoke slowly, hoping that Bea would really listen to his words and see her request for what it was.
A mistake.
She nodded, her expression determined. “That’s right.”
It was the concussion talking—that had to be it. Why else would she want him to protect her? Her letter had made it very clear she was finished with him, so why would she suddenly change her mind?
Micah shook his head. He could worry about her motivations later. Right now, he had to make her see reason.
“I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” he began. “We have officers who are more experienced in protection work, including several women. It would be better if you agreed to let one of them guard you. Much easier for everyone involved.”
Bea met his gaze, her hazel eyes clear. “I trust you,” she said simply. “You’re the only one I feel safe with.”
Maybe you shouldn’t, he thought darkly. People had trusted him before, and it had ended badly.
Micah closed his eyes, bracing himself against the onslaught of memories washing over him.
Afghanistan. Helmand Province. Micah and Duke had been deployed with a squad of marines and Afghan army troops to comb through the rubble of a drone attack in search of the bodies of a local Taliban warlord and his cronies. It was supposed to be a training exercise, of sorts, with the Afghan army troops taking the lead in the search while Micah and the marines provided guidance and cover.
Things had started out well enough. Micah and the marines had established a perimeter around the site so the Afghan troops could work in relative safety. It had been shaping up to be just another search, until one of the troops asked Micah for assistance. He and Duke had left their position, and that’s when the ambush had started.
A hail of bullets had erupted with no warning, cutting down several Afghan troops and pinning the marines and Micah in place. The fighting had been brutal and fierce, and several marines had been injured.
Including Duke.
Micah could still hear the dog’s pained yelp and the sounds of his whimpering as he’d lain in the dirt at Micah’s feet.
Unable to bear the dog’s suffering, Micah had slowed his return fire so he could attend to Duke’s injuries. And that’s when the man next to him had been hit.
After an eternity of fighting, reinforcements had arrived and the insurgents had been beaten back or killed. Medics had poured in, attending to the wounded. Duke had been placed on a stretcher and airlifted along with the rest of the injured, Micah by his side the whole way.
In the end, Duke had survived his wound and retired a hero. One of the veterinary nurses who cared for him fell in love with him, and Duke now lived a life of ease with the woman and her family. It was the best possible outcome for the dog, but Micah still couldn’t shake the guilt that plagued him whenever he thought of that day.
If I hadn’t left my position...if I hadn’t stopped to tend to Duke... How many people would still be alive if Micah had made different decisions? How many bodies would have remained whole and unbroken if Micah hadn’t left a gap in the coverage, not once, but twice?
The after-action review had found no fault, but deep in his gut Micah knew things would have turned out differently i
f he’d made other choices.
With his partner in the hospital, Micah had felt like an amputee. The military had offered to pair him with another dog, but Micah had refused. It took months of intense training to bond with a dog, and Micah didn’t have it in him to go through the experience again. He’d known that if he lost another animal, it would break him.
It turned out that fate had other plans. When he’d taken the job in Red Ridge, the thought of pairing with another dog had worried him. But as soon as he’d met Chunk, his heart had embraced the animal without reservation.
“Micah?” Bea’s voice cut through his thoughts, drawing him back to the present. “Are you okay? You look like you’re going to be sick.”
He nodded, shaking off the sadness and despair of his memories. “I’m fine,” he replied. “Just thinking.”
Bea was quiet a moment. “I’m not trying to be difficult,” she said. “And I know this is awkward. But you’re the only one I trust. Will you please work with me?”
Micah let out a heavy sigh. “All right,” he said. “I’ll do it.” He’d probably come to regret his decision, but Micah knew Bea was a stubborn woman. If she said she wouldn’t allow anyone else to guard her, she meant it. And since Micah couldn’t leave her unprotected, he didn’t have many other options.
A sharp knock sounded in the room, and the door swung open. “You’ve been in here long enough,” Fenwick snapped. “I need to see my daughter.”
Micah bit his tongue to keep from responding as Bea’s siblings filed in behind their father. Patience offered him an apologetic glance and reached out to touch Fenwick’s arm.
“Dad,” she said. “We can’t interrupt Micah’s interview. It’s inappropriate.”
“It’s fine,” Fenwick said. “Anything Bea has to say, she can say in front of us.”
“I’m done for now,” Micah said. He turned to Bea. “I’ll start making the necessary arrangements.”
She nodded. “Thank you.”
“Arrangements for what?” Fenwick sounded irate. “I can take care of anything you need. There’s no reason he should be involved.”
Bea glanced at her father, and Micah recognized the glint of steel in her eyes. Oh, boy, he thought. Things are about to get interesting.
“Micah is going to act as my protection until this case is closed,” she said calmly. “We agreed it was the best course of action, given the circumstances.”
“What?” Fenwick’s face turned an unhealthy-looking shade of purple, and Micah eyed the emergency call button on the wall. It wouldn’t surprise him if the older man had a rage stroke on the spot.
“You heard me,” Bea said calmly. If she was upset by her father’s reaction, she didn’t show it. Then again, she’d been dealing with the man her entire life. She’d probably learned a few tricks for handling him in that time.
Apparently, her siblings had, as well. They moved forward as a group, each one speaking in low, soothing tones as they circled their father.
Fenwick ignored them, his gaze locked on Bea. “Absolutely not,” he said in a low voice. “I forbid it.”
Bea arched one eyebrow. “I wasn’t asking for your permission.”
“You don’t know what you’re saying.” Fenwick’s voice softened, as if he were speaking to a child. “You’ve had a bad scare and a nasty bump on the head. You’re not thinking rationally.”
“I know what I’m doing,” Bea replied.
Her father tried another tack. “I can arrange for you to have a bodyguard, if that will make you feel better. I’ll even get you set up in a temporary apartment. Let’s just talk this over like two adults, and I’m sure we can figure out a way to keep you safe without making any...rash decisions.”
“Dad—” Patience tried to interject, but Fenwick waved his daughter away.
“This is between me and your sister,” he said firmly.
Bea sighed heavily. “No, it isn’t. There’s nothing for us to discuss. I can see you’re upset, but I’ve made up my mind and I’m not going to change it. Accept it or don’t—I really don’t care either way.”
Admiration swelled in Micah’s chest, and for a moment, he was proud of Bea for standing up to her father. She’d always had an independent streak, but back when they were dating, she’d sometimes had trouble going against her father’s wishes. That didn’t seem to be the case anymore, and Micah was happy to see Bea wasn’t living under Fenwick’s thumb.
Fenwick straightened his shoulders. “I’m going to pretend your insolence is due to your injuries,” he said stiffly.
Bea shrugged. “Okay.”
Patience placed her hand on her father’s arm, and one of her sisters did the same on Fenwick’s other side. “Let’s go,” Patience said softly. “Bea needs her rest.”
Fenwick shook off the touch of his children and straightened his tie. “Yes, I’m sure she does.” He smoothed a hand over his suit jacket, then leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Bea’s forehead. “I’ll check on you later. I expect you’ll be back to yourself by then.”
Without another word, Fenwick turned on his heel and stalked out the door. The room seemed to deflate after he left, the tension dropping dramatically in the wake of his exit. As if responding to some invisible signal, Bea’s siblings moved as a group to surround her bed. They began talking to her in low, soothing tones, and Micah could tell by the way Bea’s features relaxed that she was happy to see her sisters.
He moved quietly toward the door, wanting to give the family some privacy. The thought that Fenwick might be lurking in the hallway gave him pause, but he cast off the concern and left the room. He’d actually rather face the mayor than infringe on Bea’s time with her siblings.
Fortunately, the older man was nowhere to be found, so Micah finally had a moment’s peace to think.
He walked over to the small waiting area just down the hall from Bea’s room and sat, his mind racing. How in the world was he going to protect Bea when there was so much left unsaid between them? He knew from experience how dangerous it was to be distracted on a mission, and he wasn’t sure he could simply set aside his emotions where Bea was concerned. Could he stand to be around her, knowing his heart had never really moved on?
But could he risk saying no? Bea had made it very clear she’d only cooperate if he acted as her protection. If he didn’t at least try to push his emotions aside, Bea wouldn’t have anyone looking out for her.
The thought of Bea in the crosshairs of the Groom Killer was enough to strengthen Micah’s resolve. Right now, she was the best lead they had in this case, and he owed it to the people of Red Ridge to do whatever he could to bring the Groom Killer to justice. If that meant spending time with Bea, then that’s what he would do.
Hopefully his heart would understand.
* * *
Maybe this isn’t such a good idea, after all...
An orderly had helped Bea into a wheelchair and had taken her as far as the hospital entrance. Micah had taken it from there, pushing her through the dark parking lot and over to his car.
“Almost there,” he said quietly.
The evening air was cool, and she could feel his body heat at her back, enveloping her like a comforting blanket. The hospital had planted rose bushes around the building, and their perfume filled the air. But Bea could still smell Micah’s scent—warm, male skin, some kind of woodsy soap and the barest hint of laundry detergent. It filled her head and made her feel soft inside.
Am I really going to be able to handle being around him 24/7?
It was something she should have thought about before she’d made her knee-jerk decision. But when Micah had told her she was a possible target of the Groom Killer, she’d acted out of fear. Micah had always made her feel safe, and that hadn’t changed in the years since they’d been apart. Her insistence on his being the one to guard her was an instinctive reaction, and
she hadn’t stopped to consider the consequences for her heart.
It’s just a job to him, she reminded herself. Micah had only agreed to protect her because he was working on the Groom Killer case. As long as Bea remembered that, she might be able to get through this with her dignity intact.
“Here we are.” Micah stopped next to a dark SUV, and Bea noticed the windows were down. “Let me get you settled in the front, and then I’ll take care of Chunk.”
“Chunk?” Bea echoed. But as soon as Micah opened the passenger door, she understood.
A basset hound was curled up on the backseat, looking quite at home in a nest of blankets. “Oh, hello,” she said, a little surprised at the unexpected sight.
The dog lifted his head and regarded her curiously. He sniffed at the air and, apparently finding her harmless, laid his head back down on his paws.
Micah helped Bea to stand. “That’s my partner,” he explained as he guided her into the passenger seat.
Bea was so distracted by the dog she was surprised by the feel of Micah’s hands on her skin. Even though there was nothing personal about his touch, her body still responded, sending sparks down her limbs.
“I didn’t know you worked with a dog.”
“Yep.” Micah pulled the seatbelt out for her, and she buckled herself in. “I’m with the K-9 Unit. Chunk’s a cadaver dog, trained to find bodies. He’s actually the one who found you.”
Bea frowned. “But I’m not dead.”
A shadow crossed Micah’s face, barely visible in the glow of the streetlight. “No, thankfully you’re not.” He shook his head, as if to cast off a bad mood. “Chunk is actually trained to detect blood, so sometimes he’ll find a victim who is still alive. Like you.” He offered her a tight smile before shutting the door.
Bea twisted around to regard the dog as Micah opened the back door. “Then I guess you’re the one I really need to thank,” she said.
Chunk lifted his head again, his dark brown eyes gentle. He turned to nose Micah, who was busy dumping a bowl of kibble into a storage bin. “Has he been here all evening?”