She pulled the key from the ignition, tracing the jagged edge with her fingertip. He was mesmerized by the movement and too curious about how those long, slender fingers would feel against his skin.
“My aunt was murdered,” she said, capturing his full attention. “The case was never closed. I guess the effects lingered.”
“I’m so sorry for your loss.”
Another faint smile. “You don’t have to say that.”
“It was sincere,” he assured her.
“Thanks,” she said. “The loss and all of the unknowns rippled through the family in different ways. I wanted to catch the person responsible, to learn why they decided to hurt her. You might say an initial morbid fascination matured into a hard line about the meanings of justice and fairness.”
And yet a killer was walking around free. Orr should be in jail, but he wasn’t. Antonio supposed the count was actually two killers on the loose, if Hannah McPherson was right about her granddaughter’s innocence. If the buck didn’t stop with Melissa, then who could the city count on to handle the problem?
Her stomach rumbled again. “Let’s take care of that.” He got out of the car and rounded the hood, not quite in time to open her door for her. Instead, he offered his hand.
“I’m good,” she said, avoiding his touch.
“Habit,” he explained. But he had to wonder if he would’ve helped her with her coat, held the door or shown her any such manners prior to this evening.
The answer was a resounding “no” and for some reason that annoyed him. The sidewalk from the parking lot to the entrance had been cleared and salted, and she was in sturdy shoes now with thick treads. He was the one more likely to slip on an icy patch than she was.
“While I was waiting, the wedding coordinator called and told me the newlyweds were settled into the bridal suite. I thought you’d be happy to hear they took the abbreviated reception in stride.”
“I’m glad.” Melissa tucked her hands into her pockets. “I should’ve checked in with her when we got back to the station.”
“Plenty of people around to handle the bride. You had other priorities.”
Melissa’s lips were moving, but the whine of a car engine blotted out her words. They both turned into the glaring headlights of a small dark car, fishtailing through the slushy side street.
Antonio barely registered that the window was down as the car came closer. Was the driver not paying attention at all? The streetlight illuminated the person’s face at the same time Melissa shouted, “Gun!”
On reflex, he dragged her to the ground and blocked her body with his. He heard the pops of gunfire, expected pain to follow any second. Instead, there were only sounds. Bullets ricocheting, the engine revving, the tires spinning as the driver fought the conditions and sped away. Antonio jerked around to look, but snow blocked the license plate.
His pulse slowed and he picked out details, one by one. Freezing cold wetness seeped through his slacks and his leather gloves. A line of bullet holes marched along the wall of the building. Fine dust and bits of paint from the wall had landed on her coat, in her hair. Her hands fluttered up and down his arms, across his chest, even over his hair, but her voice was calm.
“Are you hit?” She helped him sit back and lean against the wall of the restaurant. “Antonio, answer me.”
“I’m not hurt,” he said. It felt like he was shouting with the echo of gunfire ringing in his ears. “Are you?”
“I’m good.”
He listened to her make a phone call. Could hardly believe it when she said the words drive-by shooting.
“What?” He tried to stand, but she held firm. “What the hell was that?” Her eyes were so big and her cheeks pale. She looked almost as scared now as she’d been when the ransom message had come through. Only this time, she hadn’t melted—she’d taken charge.
“Thanks for the cover,” she said, as the sounds of emergency sirens grew closer. “Keep breathing.”
He followed her gaze back to the wall. He counted seven holes before he gave up and closed his eyes. It was too much. Too close. “No promises,” he said, rubbing his chest. He would never just stand back and do nothing when a woman or child was in danger. “It was Orr.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“The driver. I couldn’t make out the license plate on the car, but I saw his face.” He pointed up at the streetlight. “It was Drew Orr.”
“You’re sure?”
“Absolutely.” And he had inadvertently put Melissa at risk with his comments to the press. Unacceptable. His throat was tight, his hands curled into fists. He had to fix this.
“All right,” she said, standing. “Glad one of us got a good look.”
GGPD patrol cars already blocked both ends of the block. He hauled himself up out of the wet snow to stand with her. The shooting had brought out a few bystanders, too, searching for the source of the noise.
“Why would Orr show up now?” he wondered aloud.
She rubbed his shoulder and even through the layers of his coat, he felt the comfort she offered. How many new facets of her personality would she show him tonight? “We’ll talk about it in a minute.”
He was ready to argue when he spotted the blood. A thin line of red trickling from behind her ear and down her neck, disappearing into her collar. Not serious, but enough to make his stomach cramp. “You…” He pulled himself together, away from the memories of Karen’s body, lifeless… This was hardly the same thing. “You. There’s blood.” He gingerly turned her chin to the side so he could see how bad it was. He reached inside his coat, pulled out a handkerchief and folded it, then pressed it to the small wound, while holding her face still. So fair and fragile. “I pushed you down.” Too hard, clearly.
Her fingers curled around his hands for a moment and her lips parted. He wanted to kiss her, to breathe her in and know they were both okay.
“You saved my life,” she said. “Thank you.” Easing back, she kept the cloth in place, her gaze intent on his.
He didn’t have time to respond as the officers descended on them. At her encouragement, he gave his statement first while she and another officer and the CSI team examined the damage to the wall, then started collecting evidence.
He watched, detached from it all as the cops moved like a well-oiled machine around him. “Maybe this should wait until tomorrow,” Melissa said when she was done with her official role as chief and as a witness. A paramedic had cleaned the small wound behind her ear, declaring it a scratch that didn’t need stitches.
“You still haven’t eaten,” he replied. He felt weak and shaky as old losses and near misses twisted and tangled up in his gut. Fortunately, after two decades of practice, he hid his emotions well.
“I’ll grab a sandwich at home,” she said. “Come by—”
“You can’t go home!”
He didn’t realize he’d shouted it. Her vivid blue eyes had gone cool under arched eyebrows. The other officers turned toward them, clearly ready to leap to her defense. Later he might admire that devotion. “Pardon me,” he said, scrubbing at his face. “I’m more rattled than I care to admit.”
“It happens,” she said in the way that professionals dealing with a volatile, inexperienced public did.
Her steady calm scraped against his jangled nerves. The doctor had used that carefully modulated tone when reporting the death of Antonio’s wife and baby…
“I’ll take you home,” she began. “And then—”
He shook his head. “You can’t be alone.” He leaned closer. “It isn’t safe. That was Drew Orr.” He was certain of it. Who else would have the audacity to take a shot at the chief of police?
“So you’ve said.”
“He’s already killed one woman,” Antonio said, struggling to match her cool detachment.
“We’ll handle it.” She opened her
coat and tapped the emblem on her uniform shirt. “If you’re worried for my safety, you should be worried for yourself, as well.”
He might be pushing his agenda to make sure Orr paid for killing Wendy, but Melissa was the real threat to Orr’s freedom now. Antonio might be a thorn in the man’s side, but his statement was already public record. Only Melissa had the authority to give Orr real trouble. Until she understood the danger, Antonio wouldn’t leave her alone and vulnerable. A badge didn’t make her invincible. “Come with me to the hotel. I can feed you and explain it all.”
“Antonio. We have this under control.”
“Do you?” he challenged. “Orr is free to drive around and shoot at people because you didn’t do your job.”
She wrapped herself into her coat, cinching the tie. “Or maybe it wasn’t Orr—he’s just on your mind. Maybe the shooter is connected to the Emerson case,” she snapped. “Either way, you’re leaving now so I can do my job without any distractions.”
“I’m not leaving without you. You were nearly a victim. Aren’t there rules about that?”
“Spare me.” She rolled her eyes. “Am I driving you home or is someone else?”
“You, please. And the hotel instead of my house.”
If he could get her to join him inside, he might have a chance at making her understand the risks of underestimating his former associate.
CHAPTER 5
Melissa had never been more grateful for silence or the distracting task of driving. Neither of them spoke on the short drive to the hotel. She’d promised him a conversation, but she needed space. When Antonio was close, she nearly forgot herself, her focus. And they’d never been closer than during those moments on the sidewalk, his long body sheltering hers.
That hum of awareness whenever he was around had been pervasive long before tonight. It went back further than the day he’d walked into the police station last summer to file a report against a business associate.
It was as if the sight of him sent her back to the days of her awkward high-school crush on the star basketball player. Antonio was a walking sexual fantasy. One of the most desirable bachelors in the state, if not the country. She’d seen the splashy photos and gossip columns that proved how many women succumbed to that sharp smile and smoldering gaze. Galas, charity events, local and around the world. In addition to his powerful presence, each picture had one thing in common: a different, beyond-beautiful woman on his arm every time.
The man was an expert at dating and clearly averse to commitment.
Although she couldn’t argue the appeal of a no-strings, blow-off-some-steam kind of fling, for her, in her position, the gossip that would light up the city wasn’t worth it. As attracted as she was to Antonio, she was really after more than a one-night stand. She was in the market for a partner who wanted to be there for the long haul, even with the hours she worked. A husband, kids and the kind of happily-ever-after bliss usually reserved for fairy tales…
Big dreams? Sure, but she wasn’t quite ready to settle for less.
She followed Antonio’s directions around the hotel and parked in a small paved strip that must have been reserved for his personal use. “Take care of yourself,” she said.
He turned, frowning. “You need to come in.”
“I think it’s best—”
But he was already out of the car and rounding the hood. Resigned, she stared him down as he opened her door.
“You need to eat,” he said. “I have kitchens full of food. And I need to talk.”
“Fine.” She cut the engine. It wasn’t as if she had a better offer at home. He guided her up the short walkway, tapped a card to the security panel and then held the door for her.
This man didn’t quit. She couldn’t recall the last time a date had held the door for her…although this wasn’t a romantic encounter. For that matter, she’d be hard-pressed to remember her last real date. Attending the wedding with Martin didn’t count. For the most part, her boyfriends had been few and far between. Unending days like today made it easy to understand why they usually gave up on her. No one wanted to feel ignored in their personal life.
“This is my job,” she murmured, thinking aloud. “My life is one interruption after another.”
Antonio didn’t break stride as they continued down the hallway. “You were quite focused this evening while we searched for Danny.”
“Crisis of the moment,” she said. “You were a big help,” she added. She had to admit his actions at Hannah McPherson’s home were downright heroic. She and Troy had picked up on the older woman’s nerves, but having that confirmation from Antonio allowed her to take swift, decisive action.
He used the card again and she found herself in a commercial kitchen. It felt way too small to manage the demands of his hotel. And it was empty even though she knew the restaurant was still open. “Where are we?”
“One of the events kitchens,” he explained. “We allow caterers to stage from here. It’s also available if we need to accommodate a guest with severe allergies.”
“Wow.” The kitchen was still and the air cool. The stainless steel gleamed from every angle. Counters, coolers, racks with empty trays ready to be put to use.
Antonio opened a refrigerator and pulled out two platters covered in plastic wrap. After setting them on the nearest counter, he paused. “Would you like coffee, plain water, infused water, or lemonade?”
“Water, please. Plain,” she clarified.
He returned with a tall glass pitcher filled with clear water and ice. “Can you carry those?” He dipped his head to the platters.
“Of course.” What was he up to? “Is feeding people your thing?” His eyebrows arched. “Does it settle you down? My mom is like that,” Melissa rambled on. “She cooks when she’s upset, delivers food when she knows others are hurting.”
“Are you hurting?”
“The question was about you,” she said, picking up the platters as he started toward the door.
“I won’t deny being shot at shook me up,” he admitted. “And I wouldn’t be in the hotel business if I didn’t enjoy people.”
“Enjoy caring for people?” Why was she pushing? They didn’t need to be friends. She wasn’t sure she even wanted a more in-depth understanding of the man who sent her body into overdrive with just a look.
“Sure.”
So much for an in-depth answer. She told herself she was relieved. “Where are we going?”
“My office,” he said. “It’s the best I can do to guarantee your safety and privacy.”
He’d relaxed bit by bit the farther they went into his hotel. “You’re confident about your security,” she observed.
“I am.” He glanced at her, his gaze serious and sincere. “And I’m sorry that they failed to see the threat Mrs. McPherson posed before she took Danny.”
Melissa shrugged that off. “She was determined. If not here, she would’ve managed it somewhere else.”
“Because she’s desperate.”
“True,” she agreed as they entered his second-floor private office. She’d never been up here and yet she immediately recognized his personality and standards in every feature and fixture. The decor was sleek and masculine without being stark, thanks to a neutral color palette offset with pops of deep colors. Accents were placed with care and she’d bet most of the pieces were personal, either family heirlooms or from his travels.
She noticed a blue-and-white ball vase on the corner of his massive desk with a smaller arrangement of the fresh flowers from the lobby. A live-edge coffee table anchored a conversation area; the contrasting color of the wood grain gave the pretty piece the suggestion of movement like a river.
This was a luxury condo compared to the chief’s office at the station. The gap between his work and hers, his life and hers, felt as big as the dark expanse of Lake Michigan outside his windows.<
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“We can eat here.” He set the water on the glass-top table centered in the bay window. He turned and relieved her of the platters, then set them down on the table.
She unbelted her coat and discovered Antonio was right behind her, ready to ease it from her shoulders. For a split second she wished she was back in the dress she’d worn to the wedding instead of her uniform. The reaction was so unexpected she shook her head. Clothes did not make the woman.
“Something wrong?” He’d moved off to a tall cabinet built into the wall near the table, and was taking out glasses, plates, utensils and napkins.
“Just a little awestruck.” She watched him fill each glass with water, admiring his steady hands. His world was so different from hers. “Our, um, offices are night and day.”
“As they should be. If you had Baccarat crystal in your break room at the station, I imagine taxpayers would come after you with torches and pitchforks.”
“And they’d be right to do so,” she said with a laugh.
“Please, sit down,” he suggested. “Be comfortable.” His smooth baritone slid over her skin and she had to suppress the urge to lean in to him.
Ridiculous reactions. This was not a date. Not even a prelude to a fling. She was here because of the case he thought she’d screwed up. There might even be a new case if that had been Orr behind the gun.
It was the sobering reminder she needed as he took the seat across from her. She sipped her water while he unwrapped the platters of cheeses, fruits and various meats and cold vegetables. “Beats a plain sandwich, right?”
Her stomach growled again and they both laughed. “This is a thousand times better. Thank you.”
He smiled and she was glad to be sitting down when her knees went all weak. Again, it would be nice to blame her fascination and attraction on stress, but it was all him. They dug into the food, the silence companionable, and she enjoyed the peaceful reprieve while it lasted.
He seemed to fill up faster than she did, reclining and stretching an arm out across the back of the banquette, peering at his water glass as if wishing for something stronger. But he didn’t speak until she pushed away her plate.
Harlequin Romantic Suspense January 2021 Page 29