Nadine didn’t really want to dampen his good spirits, but she couldn’t seem to stop herself from blurting out the obvious contradiction. “But you’re still here in Whispering Woods. If things worked out the way they were supposed to, then how come you still feel like you need to go after Garibaldi?”
“I’ve asked myself a thousand times how to reconcile the two things in my head. If my dad were alive, I wouldn’t have my sisters. I wouldn’t have my stepdad, Walt. But I could never call his death a positive thing.” His voice roughened a little at the end, and he paused to clear his throat before continuing. “The only choice I have is to accept the past, try to give him the justice he deserves and move on with the future.”
“You’re a real romantic at heart, aren’t you?” The question slipped out before Nadine could bite her tongue and keep it in.
Anderson smiled again, and this time the warmth in his eyes was directed right at her. “You make that sound like a bad thing.”
“I guess it’s just surprising.”
“What? That a man can admit to having a softer side?”
“That, too. But also to hear about everything you’ve been through and to know that you still have hope at the end.”
“Now who’s the romantic?” He said it in a teasing voice, but his gaze held something more serious, and whatever it was, it wrapped around Nadine in a way that made her tingle.
His hand came out again to reach for hers, and when his thumb traced the back of her hand, she dropped her gaze to watch the lazy circle it made. The tingle expanded to become a full-body buzz. And suddenly she wanted him to dive across the table. She even wondered a little why he hadn’t done it already. He had to be able to feel the same tug that she did. She lifted her eyes again, and they immediately found Anderson’s attention locked on her.
The strength of the need to feel his lips again startled her, and she jerked her hand away, breaking their connection.
She exhaled, trying to clear her head. “Are you going to place that call?”
Anderson shifted in his seat. “What?”
“To your partners? You know...about what to do with me?”
“Right.”
He didn’t move, and Nadine almost wanted to laugh. “Anytime soon?”
“Yep.”
He dug into his pocket, but his gaze didn’t leave her face. Even as he slid his fingers over the phone to dial automatically, he didn’t glance down, and the heat in the air didn’t dissipate. If anything, it rose. Like the only thing acting as a buffer between them was the slim electronic device and the vague ringing she could hear coming through from the other side. She counted them off.
One ring.
She was breathless for someone to answer and cut through the tension.
Two rings.
But also half hoping no one did.
Three.
Anderson’s eyes were still on her, and almost hungry.
Four.
Surely no one answered after the fourth ring?
But then the greeting carried up loudly. “Somers. Nice to know you’re alive and—no offense—but what the hell time is it?”
“Hey, Harley. Not sure. Middle of the night,” Anderson said back, his attention turning momentarily to the call.
Nadine finally let out the breath she’d been holding unconsciously and pushed to her feet. “I’ll give you a few minutes.”
“Hang on, all right?” Anderson said into the phone, then fixed her with a concerned look. “You sure?”
“Yes. I should wash my face and make sure I’m not a complete disaster.”
“You aren’t.”
The quick, utterly certain reassurance made her want to blush, so she hurried across the room, hoping he wouldn’t see it. But when she reached the short hallway that led to the bathroom door, she paused, remembering something.
“Anderson?”
“Hang on again, Harley.” He put his hand over the mouthpiece of the phone a second time. “Yeah?”
“You said you had an observation. But you didn’t tell me what it was.”
“I just noticed that when you were talking about Grant—even when you called him a jerk—you didn’t sound mad that it was over.”
“I didn’t?”
“No. More like the how bothered you more than the ending itself.”
“Let me guess...you think that’s further indication that it wasn’t meant to be.”
He studied her for a second. “What do you think it means, oh ye of little faith in fate?”
“I know what it means. Grant was right.”
“Nadine...”
“Hang on. Hear me out.”
“I’m listening.”
“Okay. First off, yes, he should’ve been faithful, and it’s a little out there to believe he didn’t understand that he shouldn’t have slept with other women.”
“No sh—”
“Hey!”
He shot her a smirk. “Sorry. I feel passionately about monogamy.”
“I see that,” she replied drily. “And I agree. But that wasn’t my point. What I’m saying is that Grant and I weren’t serious. If we had been, he might not have cheated. Or at the very least he might not have been so blasé about me finding out. So, no, I wasn’t all that upset that it was over. I was just upset with myself for not seeing our relationship for what it was. And that, Detective, makes me mad.”
Nadine spun quickly, wanting to avoid whatever argument Anderson might make, but his voice stopped her before she made it more than two steps.
“One other thing, Nadine,” he said.
“What?”
“If you and Grant weren’t meant to be, then fate probably has something far better lined up for you.” He said it easily but firmly, then turned his face away and spoke into the phone again. “Hey, Harley. You still there?...Yeah, I realize that I called you. Sorry. It was a long time...I know. I said sorry.”
Nadine swallowed against the unexpected lump in her throat, then slipped into the hall and pressed her back to the wall. She really hadn’t ever been a big believer in fate. But she had the unsettling feeling that Detective Anderson Somers had been thrown into her path for some bigger reason than just to act as a guard at her door.
* * *
Anderson’s eyes lifted to the spot where Nadine had just been, pulled by some need to catch another glimpse of her. He was so focused on doing it that he completely missed what Harley Maxwell was saying on the other end. Which the other man was more than happy to point out.
“Someone drop something heavy on your head in the last few days, Somers? I just asked you if you wanted to get together to dance a tango, and you grunted a ‘yeah,’” Harley said.
“Just distracted,” Anderson replied, rolling his eyes and redirecting his attention as the sound of running water carried to his ears.
His friend immediately let out a loud groan. “You, too?”
“What?”
“My brother spent two days telling me he was ‘distracted.’ Then he hauled up and ran off to Mexico with a pretty waitress.”
“I’m not running off with a waitress,” Anderson said, finally pulling his stare away from the empty space near the hall that led to the bathroom.
“Only because you haven’t met one yet,” Harley countered. “But speaking of pretty girls...how’s the cranky blonde?”
“Much less cranky since she sprang herself from the hospi—care center.”
“Hospi-what?”
“It’s—never mind. It’s a thin line of distinction. And that wasn’t the important part anyway.”
“Whatever you say, my friend. How did she get out? Wait. You are with her, right? Because if you’re not...”
“No, I’ve got her, Harley. We’re in my hotel room.”
His partner laughed. “Well. That
explains the distraction.”
“Shut up,” Anderson grumbled, careful not to look around at the romantic decor. “We need to talk about what happened after she got out.”
“So talk away.”
“For starters, someone in a dark sedan tried to run her down just outside the care center. I’ve got a partial plate that I want you to run.”
“All right. Hit me.”
“It was 598 something.”
There was a pause on the other end. “That’s it?”
“I was a bit busy making sure Nadine didn’t get killed,” Anderson said.
“What about a possible make or model?”
“What...sedan doesn’t cut it?”
“Ha-ha.”
“Sorry, my friend. I haven’t got anything else.”
“You do realize that I’m not actually a magician.”
“Don’t sell yourself short.”
“Ha. I’ll do what I can, but you might want to wrap Ms. Stuart in bubble wrap while you wait. Could take me a while.”
“Funny. Hey, Harley?”
“Yeah, man?”
Anderson’s eyes drifted back to the empty space where Nadine had stood a few minutes earlier. The water had stopped, and he spoke his next sentence in a low voice, just in case she happened to be listening.
“I thought we decided that Garibaldi wasn’t trying to kill her.”
“We did.” The frown was evident in Harley’s reply. “And that conclusion was based on the fact that Nadine’s brother told Brayden during his scouting mission that there was some kind of blackmail involved. I think her brother out-and-out said that she was safe so long as they managed to keep ahold of whatever mysterious piece of evidence they had on Garibaldi.”
“So why the hell would he have someone try to take her out instead?”
“I dunno. Impatience?”
“Garibaldi’s not stupid enough to get impatient. He’s a long-game guy. I’d stake my career on it.”
“You sure the attempt was purposeful?”
“Is that a real question?”
The other man sighed. “No, I guess not.”
“I saw it with my own eyes, Harley. He took a moment. He targeted her.” Anderson scrubbed a hand over his jaw. “Even if I had a doubt—which I don’t—the whole building had to be evacuated just after the incident. Someone reported seeing a masked man in the halls.”
Harley let out a low whistle. “Right after she sprang herself? Girl’s got some serious good luck.”
“Sure does. I’m just glad it happened the way it did. I’m thinking the car that tried to hit her had the masked man’s driver at the wheel.”
“So maybe the driver panicked when he saw her. Took matters into his own hands. Could be that the original intention wasn’t to kill her.”
“That’d be one hell of a panic. Killing a girl Garibaldi wanted alive would mean the guy wouldn’t survive long himself. Besides that, the man in the halls was masked. You caught that, right? I don’t think he was there to ask a few casual questions.”
“Got an alternate theory?”
“Wish I did.”
“Somers...does she remember anything else from before?”
Anderson dropped his voice even lower. “About the bomb and the fire when she was a teenager? Not that I know of. Her doctor said she might never fully regain the memories.”
“He talked to you about her condition?” Harley sounded surprised. “Isn’t that a bit unethical?”
“I might’ve led him to believe there was more to our relationship than bodyguard and bodyguard-ee.”
“Of course you did.”
“Hey, now. I’m doing the best I can with what I’ve got.”
“I know, but...” The other man trailed off, and when he spoke again, his voice was a bit hesitant—like he didn’t want to say what he was thinking. “What if that’s why they decided to go after her like this?”
“What do you mean?”
“What if they know more than we do?”
“That’s a given in some respects,” Anderson said drily. “Garibaldi clearly knows what motivates himself. He’s kind of an insider.”
“Ha. I meant in regard to Nadine Stuart and whatever it is she’s got locked in her brain about the blackmail. Garibaldi must have an idea of what it is, and he must know that it can implicate him pretty badly. He’s never hesitated to kill in the name of protecting himself before.”
Anderson saw where his friend was going with the idea. “You think that Garibaldi stopped seeing Nadine’s blackmail as a threat.”
“It’s plausible, right? Maybe he eliminated whatever the leverage was. Or decided that so long as Nadine doesn’t remember what it is, she can’t tell anyone else. With her brother dead, she’s the only threat.”
Anderson’s gut clenched unpleasantly. “So remove the threat.”
“Sorry, man. I know it makes your job harder.”
“I’ll still keep her safe.”
“I know.”
“I just need to come up with a damn plan.”
“Lay low. Keep her out of sight. Order some damn room service. Let me see if I can do anything with the plate number.”
“Easy for you to say. She didn’t slip out of a hospital room on your watch.”
His friend laughed. “All right. Point conceded. She’s not going to be content to be a bystander. What about probing her for some info about the blackmail? That was a part of the plan anyway, once she was feeling better, right? So start asking some questions. I’m assuming if she can pull an escape routine like that, she must be ready to talk a bit.”
Anderson considered it for a second. He hated the idea of pulling a civilian into a case, even when the civilian in question was both a former victim and a continued target.
But questioning her isn’t out of the realm of reasonable behavior.
She really was their only lead, and while his current priority was her safety, his ongoing case hadn’t diminished in importance, either. Putting Garibaldi away was the primary reason he’d come to Whispering Woods—the only reason the small town was on his and his partners’ radar. Being sensitive to Nadine’s needs mattered, but it didn’t give him an excuse not to attempt to get valuable information from her.
So why does the idea bother you so much?
He didn’t have a definitive answer.
“You still there, buddy?” Harley prodded.
Anderson blew out a breath. “Yeah, man. Just thinking.”
“And?”
“You’re right. I should talk to her about it. See if she has any clue what kind of leverage her brother was talking about. If she doesn’t, maybe she can at least give us a starting point. A place to look.”
“Good.”
“But that doesn’t mean I have to—” He stopped abruptly as Nadine stepped back into the room.
It wasn’t that he didn’t want her to hear what he had to say, it was just that his tongue had stuck to the roof of his mouth. She’d bundled her petite frame into a one-size-fits-most robe, and her short blond hair was damp. Something about her freshly scrubbed, cozily wrapped appearance tugged at Anderson’s heartstrings, and suddenly he knew why he was reluctant to put her on the spot. He’d known her for only a few days. Interacted closely with her for only a few hours and shared a single kiss, which was only meant to appease the excitable hotel employee. Yet somewhere in all of that, he’d managed to develop a distinctly unprofessional attachment to the prickly woman. And right that second, his instincts told him that it was only going to grow.
Chapter 6
Nadine shifted awkwardly from foot to foot, her query about what Anderson meant when he’d said “leverage” sticking in her throat. She hadn’t been eavesdropping, but the word had caught her ear as she stepped into the room. Now something in his expressio
n made her mouth stop working. There was something warm, openly appreciative and utterly disarming about the way he was studying her. And her feet stayed planted to the spot, too, so she couldn’t even turn and run.
Anderson cleared his throat like he was having trouble, as well, then spoke into the phone. “All right, Harley. I’m gonna hang up. Call if you get anything, and I’ll do the same.”
Nadine tried to get out a sentence, but all she managed was an embarrassing noise that sounded like “erm.”
One side of the detective’s mouth turned up. “You, uh, lose something?”
“What?”
“Your clothes?”
“Oh.” The blush she’d managed to keep under control while indulging in a quick shower was now back with full force. “I accidentally got them wet. They’re hanging up. I was going to ask how you felt about me ordering up from the guest shop.”
“Ordering up from the guest shop? Can’t say how I feel about that since it seems like a made-up thing.”
“Shut up. They’ve got some sweats and T-shirts there. Complete with the Whispering Woods Lodge logo. Unless you want me to sit around in a robe.” Too late, she realized she’d left the door open for him to say that keeping her in the robe was exactly what he wanted.
But his eyes just raked over her once, and all he said was, “Clothes from the guest shop sound fine. And Harley also just pointed out that we might be hungry. Running from bad guys and pretending to be engaged tend to work up an appetite. For me, anyway.”
“Is that a standard part of your job?”
“Eating?” he said teasingly.
The warm feeling in her cheeks increased. “No, I mean—you know what? Never mind. The food sounds good.”
Anderson’s face turned serious. “I’m just bugging you. And the answer is no, I’ve never had the occasion to create a fake occasion engagement, and I usually chase the bad guys down rather than hide in a honeymoon suite to avoid them.”
Nadine exhaled and relaxed a little, realizing that his response—the middle bit, anyway—actually mattered to her. “So I’m really cramping your detective style, then.”
His eyes crinkled up at the corners. “Little bit. But nothing some room service won’t cure. Any food preferences? Allergies? Aversions?”
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