by Debra Cowan
“No!” Instead of sounding indignant, she sounded breathless. Shaken. Aaargh! Now that she was on a stationary surface, she sat unmoving, waiting for the whirling to stop. Her gaze went to Nate’s thighs and the wrinkled fabric high on his leg.
“Your pants are wrinkled,” she mumbled. “I’m sorry I grabbed hold of you in there.”
“They’re fine. I’ll probably have a bruise on my leg, though,” he teased, kneeling beside her. “You’ve got some grip.”
“Oh, please.”
“I thought you were trying to get a piece of me.”
Her gaze shot to his before she realized he had said it so she would look at him. The warm concern in his face had her squirming. And her world began to right itself.
She started to stand, but he held her in place with a hand on her leg. His gaze scoured her face. “Tell me what’s going on. Do you have some sort of condition? When we’re together, should I be on medical alert?”
“You’re adorable,” she said with a withering look. Her entire body burned with embarrassment. “No.”
“Well?”
“It’s not a big deal.”
“Daly,” he growled.
She hated this. Hated it. Hated the loss of control, the sense of moving when she wasn’t, of being off-balance. “I don’t handle those kinds of elevators well.”
“No, really?” His wry tone said he had already figured that out. “You didn’t seem to have any trouble on the way up.”
That was because she had been able to focus on the solid doors.
“Do you have a fear of heights?”
“Not fear, no, but they don’t like me.”
“Then what is it?”
“Vertigo. Most elevators don’t bother me, but glass ones do. As you saw.”
“Would you have fallen? Passed out?”
“I wouldn’t have passed out,” she dismissed with a short laugh. Falling, though, was a real possibility. “The most I’ve ever done is slide to the floor in a puddle. You should’ve seen my first time on a Ferris wheel before I knew I had it.”
“We could have gotten off.”
“The damage was already done, and my brain wasn’t working too well.”
“If I’d known, I could’ve gotten you to the front of the elevator.” His breathed teased her hair.
No way would she have told him she needed to do that. “That’s all right. I’m fine.”
“No, you aren’t. You should’ve told me.”
She looked away. “I don’t like this thing to dictate my life.”
“One day is hardly your—”
“Look, I’m already better.” And she was. Enough so that she wanted to bury her face in his neck and breathe in his clean male scent. The urge spurred a burst of panic. “I didn’t pass out or scream bloody murder or get sick.”
“Well, you scared the hell out of me.”
The husky tone of his voice had her gaze locking on his. “Oh, come on.”
“You should’ve told me about it.”
“It doesn’t happen that often.”
“Just when you’re in elevators,” he said pointedly.
“Glass elevators,” she corrected. Or really high, open spaces. “As long as I don’t look down, I’m okay.”
“Does McClain know about this?”
She nodded.
Watching her steadily, Nate grazed a finger down her temple, moving back a damp strand of hair.
His light touch had her pulse hitching. She had an insane urge to grab his hand and hold tight. Instead, she reached up and tucked her hair back into her French braid, struggling to pull her gaze from his. She got to her feet. This time he let her.
“I’m good to go.”
Even though he looked doubtful, he stepped back and picked up the computer from the chair beside hers, walking with her to the door.
The sense of motion had stopped, but she still felt off-balance. This time, it was because of the big man who stood so close to her. She didn’t like that.
Once outside, the heat engulfed them. The vroom of traffic sounded on the nearby highway, and her nose twitched at the smell of car fuel.
Still mortified, she could barely look at Nate. The last thing she needed was for the man overseeing the task force, the man who was her temporary boss, to think she had a problem. Especially one brought on by something as innocuous as riding in an elevator!
And if that weren’t bad enough, her heart rate had gone haywire just because he touched her face. That made her feel ridiculous. And hyped up.
Work. She needed to think about work.
Getting back on track, her gaze flicked to him. “I think Miss Jarvis is lying about being in Bane’s neighborhood. She followed him everywhere else. Why not home?”
“I agree. Plus it was at that point in the interview when she started to get jumpy. Maybe Bane’s computer will give us something.”
Robin nodded. “When we get back to the P.D., we can run her through the system, to see if anything comes up.”
The sun beat down on them and Nate thumbed a bead of sweat from his temple. Her gaze skimmed over the bronze column of his neck and across his hard, wide shoulders, down his muscular arms to his hands. Large strong hands. Gentle hands.
She and Nate had been all business until she did her impression of a drunk and he had helped her. Touched her. His finger against her skin had been soft, yet it pulled at some invisible wire inside her, drew her closer to him. Was still drawing her. There had been nothing businesslike about that at all.
As they reached his SUV, he unlocked the doors with his remote. “I told McClain we would update him sometime today.”
“Let’s wait and see if we get anything on Tiffany.”
“All right.” He opened her door.
She started to slide in, then paused. She didn’t want what had happened in the elevator to get around, but she was at his mercy. “Um, Houston, you don’t need to tell anyone about…that.”
“‘That’?”
She fluttered a hand in the direction of the tower. “That.”
Concern flashed through his eyes. No, no, Robin thought, please don’t make a big deal out of this.
Then a grin hitched up one corner of his mouth. “What’s it worth to you for me to keep quiet?”
Relief swept through her and she gave him a mock glare. “Are you forgetting I carry a gun?”
He chuckled and closed her door, jogging around to the driver’s side and climbing in. “Your secret’s safe with me. Scout’s honor.”
Just as she started to thank him for being so nice, she was hit with a sudden suspicion. “Were you ever even a Boy Scout?”
His blue eyes twinkled at her. “No.”
That drew a surprised laugh from her. As he joined in, she admitted what she had been fighting since Saturday. Dammit, she did like the guy.
Nate was learning all kinds of things about Robin. On Saturday at the softball game, he had noticed a long, jagged scar on her right leg, between her ankle and calf. And today he found out she had vertigo.
Her startling reaction on the elevator had caused his heart to clench hard as she had clamped on to his leg. If he had needed a big red flag that something was wrong, that was it. No way would she have touched him voluntarily.
An hour later at the police department, he was still thinking about that, as well as the naked vulnerability in her waxy face when he had steered her out of the elevator. Her unguarded expression had reminded him of the day of her wedding. That time, the stormy emotion in her eyes had been pain caused by the bombshell of learning she had been left at the altar. Today, the look in her eyes had been just as raw.
For the first time since Nate had begun working with her, he saw Robin as more woman than cop. And he liked it.
As they walked into the large, dingy room of the homicide division, he was glad she had color back in her face. A tightness in his chest eased. Despite teasing her, he wouldn’t have told anyone about her vertigo, unless his keeping quiet wo
uld have put her or her partner in danger. McClain already knew, so Nate saw no reason why anyone else needed to.
He stood behind her chair at her metal desk as she ran Tiffany Jarvis through the police database, but his attention wasn’t on the woman they had just interviewed. It was on Robin. He could touch her just by lifting a finger.
It would take only one movement to stroke the toned, golden-tan arm, bared by a sleeveless top. Or the tender patch of skin behind her ear. Or the silky hair she had pulled into a sleek twist.
The two of them had been getting along. She may not have forgiven him for the part he had played in scrapping her wedding, but she didn’t still seem to be holding a grudge. Things between them had been easy, professional—until her vertigo had struck.
Robin shifted in her chair, looking up at him. “Tiffany Jarvis isn’t in the system. She doesn’t have so much as a traffic ticket.”
“I still think she’s lying about never having followed Bane home.”
“Same here.”
“Is there somewhere else we can look?” Nate stepped back so Robin could stand. When she did, he caught a whiff of her wild-flower scent.
“Just because she isn’t in the system,” she said, “doesn’t mean she wasn’t ever seen near Bane’s house.”
“So we go back and talk to the neighbors again?”
“Yes.” Robin stepped around her desk and started for the door. “And let’s stop by the traffic division. Maybe the officer assigned to that area saw her.”
Nate followed her past the rows of putty-colored desks and out to the hall. His gaze slid over her slender curves. The dusky blue vest and matching slacks skimmed over a small waist, the gentle flare of her hips.
The disappointment that had shot through him earlier when he’d seen her fantastic legs were covered by slacks had disappeared. She looked damn fine in what she wore today, too. His gaze lingered on her backside. He wouldn’t mind getting his hands on her there, either.
He had to admit he was doing more than his share of looking. Since the ballgame on Saturday, he had also done more than his share of thinking about her, and only one of those times had involved the investigation.
There wasn’t any getting around it now. He wanted to know about her, wanted to know what she thought about things. He just plain wanted her. No way in hell could he let on. She would run so fast she would leave skid marks up his back.
They walked into a large room that was nearly identical to the one where the homicide detectives worked. Same gray-speckled floor, same sturdy desks, same battered file cabinets. And at the far wall sat Kyle Emrick, Robin’s former fiancé. A sudden tension lashed the air when the man lifted a hand in greeting.
Nate nodded, shifting his attention back to Robin.
She spoke to a young officer, asking the name of the patrolman assigned to the area where Bane and his wife had resided.
Emrick started toward him. “Houston, I heard you’d moved back.”
“Hi.” Nate shook the other man’s hand. The strain became more pronounced when Robin straightened and looked at her ex, an unreadable expression on her face. Nate wondered how this meeting would go.
If he had been in her position, Nate couldn’t have said how he would act.
“I understand Fuller Street is on your beat,” she said to Emrick.
“Yeah.”
She held out the sheet of information they had gotten on Tiffany Jarvis. Among other things, it listed the woman’s full name, address, date of birth, and the make and model of the car she drove, as well as identifying marks. “We need to know if you recognize this woman’s name or have seen this car before.”
Just at six feet tall and runner-lean, the other man stroked the goatee he had grown since Nate had last seen him. “Oh, a late model red Thunderbird with a dented left fender. Yes, I’ve seen it before, on Fuller.”
Robin shared a look with Nate. “Did you see it more than once?”
“Yes, and recently I saw it two times within a short period of time.”
Emrick returned the sheet of paper to her.
Her voice and demeanor were calm, composed. She might appear to be engaging in conversation with her ex, but Nate could tell she was looking right through the guy. He didn’t know if she had been forced to deal with Emrick at work before. Regardless, she seemed to have come to grips with the past.
“Do you remember exactly when you saw the car?” she asked. “A week ago? A month ago?”
“Last week.” He paused thoughtfully. “Once on Wednesday after dark, and again on Thursday about the same time.”
Adrenaline shot through Nate as he glanced at Robin.
She pressed the other man. “Thursday. How can you be sure of the day?”
“The cable company hit a water line when they were digging and the block was closed so the city trucks could get in and fix it. I had to ask her to move her car.”
“What block of Fuller?”
“Eight hundred.”
Bingo, Nate thought. Right on Bane’s street.
Robin exchanged a look with Nate, the glint in her eye telling him she was as excited as he was about catching Tiffany Jarvis in at least one lie.
It didn’t prove the secretary was the Mailman, or had even been the one to set the blaze, but if they had caught her in one lie, they might catch her in another. Now they needed to see if they could connect her to either of the other fires or victims.
“Is this about the fire-murders on Fuller Street last week?” At Nate’s nod, Emrick eyed Nate and Robin curiously. “You two working together?”
“Yes,” Nate said.
Emrick’s gaze trailed slowly over Robin. “I thought you were working that case and another with Collier McClain.”
“I am,” she said flatly, offering nothing further.
Her ex’s features tightened and Nate thought he saw regret in the other man’s dark eyes. Had Kyle finally realized what a stupid mistake he had made by ruining his relationship with Robin?
Nate followed up on Emrick’s observation. “The powers that be formed a task force. We’re both assigned there, and so is McClain.”
Robin’s face remained blank.
Nate hadn’t made it a point to keep in touch with Emrick over the years, but they had talked occasionally. At least two of those times, Kyle had sworn that he had explained to Robin why he had left her at the altar and why Nate had gotten involved.
But watching the two of them now, he didn’t buy it. He caught another hot look Emrick slid down Robin’s body. And the snap of antagonism in her stance.
The other man still wanted her. She was definitely not interested, which served him right, after what he had done to her.
Emrick stepped toward her. “If I think of anything else I’ll let you know.”
She nodded, shifting her gaze to the officer she had first spoken to. “Thanks for the help, both of you.”
She strode out of the room without a backward glance. She seemed to have gotten past the mess with Emrick and was handling it well.
When Nate caught up to her, she smiled, excitement sparkling in her eyes. “Well, that confirms Tiffany was lying about at least one thing.”
“Do you want to go back and talk to her right now?”
“Yes. Plus we can ask around in Bane’s neighborhood and find out if anyone else saw her car.”
As they stopped at Robin’s desk so she could get her purse, Nate couldn’t stem his curiosity about her interaction with her ex. “Do you have to see him very often?”
“Him? Oh, Kyle? Not really. I try to stay away from him.”
“Makes sense,” Nate murmured. “He’s a jackass.”
“He’s more ass than jack, but that’s just my opinion,” she said with false sweetness.
Nate grinned. She would get no argument from him. The last time he had spoken to Emrick had been when the man had called to ask Nate to be a groomsman in his second wedding. Nate had declined.
One reason was because he wanted noth
ing to do with another “Emrick Special.” And the other was because, at that time, it had been only a year since Nate’s divorce, and he wanted no part of any wedding.
Nate realized he was thinking more about Robin than about the woman who may have just become their primary suspect. “I heard Emrick was getting a divorce.”
Robin’s gaze rose slowly to his, her blue eyes glittering. “I heard that, too.”
“How long was he married? Was it even two years?”
“About that, I think.” She angled her jaw at him, no sign of wobbliness now.
He couldn’t help following the graceful line of her neck, the pulse throbbing in the hollow of her throat. He thought about his mouth doing the same thing.
“What’s the deal, Houston?” she demanded. “You think I should thank you for ‘saving me’ from the jerk?”
“No. I was just curious.”
She huffed out a breath and moved past him, headed for the squad room door. “I bet his wife has no idea why he’s leaving her, and she probably won’t get any more information than I did.”
“Which was what?” He followed, trying to keep his voice casual, but the suspicion he had felt earlier bored deep.
“Nada, zero,” she said. “Zip.”
Shock drummed through him. “Nothing at all?”
“Nothing.”
“Have you asked him recently?”
“You’re kidding, right?” She gave him a blistering look over her shoulder. “During the year after everything fell apart, I asked plenty. He just kept blaming you. And while your butting in still makes me mad, in the end he was the one who made the choice to walk away. I’d still like to know why he weaseled out, but not badly enough to drag everything back up. That’s something I have no desire to relive. It was hard enough the first time.”
As Nate came up beside her, her eyes turned to hard blue glass. “I’m sure you can understand if I’m not wild about talking to you about it, either.”
Ouch. Yes, Nate understood. And he also understood that instead of coming over to say hello, Kyle had really come over to determine whether Nate had told Robin the truth about calling off the ceremony.
Anger and disbelief flared inside him. Kyle hadn’t explained to Robin why he had left her at the altar, hadn’t told her anything about sleeping with her sister in the small office at the church.