Black Ice (BookStrand Publishing Romance)

by Lexie Davis

  She grabbed her coat and said goodbye to the night staff, heading out to her car. She needed sleep and a fresh brain to pick apart the evidence and hopefully find some clues. She unlocked her car door and climbed inside. Her parka barely kept the wind off her back. She inserted the key in the ignition and started the engine, waiting for it to warm up. She didn’t know which was worse, not knowing who killed Sophie or all the speculation and theories rolling around in her head. Both had a tendency to annoy her. She reached for her seatbelt and strapped herself in.

  A movement behind her caught her attention and an arm came around her neck, pulling her into a head lock against the driver’s seat. Blake struggled for breath, her hands going immediately to the arm that held her in place. She struggled, the steely grip unmoving as she pulled and clawed at the arm.

  “Stay away from this, detective. You have no business digging into Sophie Stevens’ death. Let it go or you’re next.”

  Blake choked as she gasped for air. She reached for her gun but the seat belt blocked her from retrieving it. She had to get away from him. She let go of his arm and reached out to slap the horn. The loud blast scared him, and the man pushed her away, forcing her head against the side window as he made his escape out the opposite side door.

  Blake unbuckled her seatbelt and threw it aside as she hurried from the car. She grabbed her gun pointing it toward the darkness the man had escaped into. She sucked in oxygen as she tried to calm herself down. He had to be around somewhere. The silent night surrounded her as she walked around the car. She listened, waited for some movement, some sound. She got nothing.

  She slammed the open door closed and went back to the driver’s side. Her hand shook as she lowered the gun at her side. The police academy didn’t train her for this. The faint scent of something familiar lingered in the air, surrounding her. Peppermint.

  “Blake?” She turned toward the sound of the voice and pointed her gun at the man. Ryder held his hands up. “Whoa. Take it easy. What’s going on out here?”

  He took his eyes off her for a second to glance around the area. She didn’t know the man, but she didn’t take threats kindly. Especially when they had to do with her current case.

  He took a step closer. “Whatever harmed you is gone now. Lower your gun.”

  She did, returning it to her holster. “Someone waited for me in my car. They choked me from behind and threatened me. They want me to stay away from Sophie Stevens’ case.”

  “Are you okay now?” He stood next to her. She didn’t see him step closer.

  She nodded. Her head ached.

  “How did you get that cut?” He reached out to brush her hair aside and inspected the wound at the side of her head.

  “I don’t know. It hurts though.”

  He met her eyes. If she didn’t have a headache the size of China, she’d have said something smart. And definitely pushed him away. She closed her eyes. She shouldn’t like being near him as much as she did. His body heat comforted her amid the cold of the night. Maybe Ryder James wasn’t so bad after all. You must have a concussion. Confusion is the first sign, and Ryder James and nice in the same sentence is major confusion!

  “I’m taking you to the hospital. You’ve got a gash on your head that probably needs a stitch or two.” His hands framed her cheeks as he met her eyes. “Then I’m taking you home with me.”

  He gave her no room to protest. She should have had some fight in her but, honestly, his words shocked her speechless. He locked her car up and led her to his SUV. After helping her inside, he slammed the passenger’s door and went around the front to the driver’s side. He grabbed his cell phone, and it didn’t take a trained detective to know who spoke on the other end of the line.

  “Tell Lou I said hi.” She cringed when she turned her head too fast.

  Ryder ignored her comment. He gave Lou the information of her attack and hung up. “Did you see the guy?”

  “No. He smelt like peppermint though, and he wore black leather gloves. I felt them around my neck.” She blew out a breath. “By the time I pulled my gun, he’d left.”

  “Do you think it was the killer?”

  Blake didn’t want to think about that. “It could be.”

  Ryder drove in silence. He pulled into the emergency department at the local hospital. He parked his SUV near the door and killed the engine. A moment passed where Ryder did nothing but simply stare into her eyes.

  Yep, concussion. Total hallucination.

  “Let’s go get you stitched up.”

  To Blake’s surprise, Ryder turned out to be a decent friend. Though he didn’t know much information about her, he helped her fill out the paper work and repeatedly replied to the comments the nurses asked her “husband.” He didn’t bother to correct them.

  Mrs. Ryder James. Now I really am delusional.

  “I’ll just stay in the waiting area,” Ryder said when the nurse called her back.

  Blake nodded slightly and followed the lady in purple scrubs. She saw the doctor and received a dot of tissue adhesive. He told her to take some pain reliever for the headache and let her go.

  She met Ryder in the waiting area where she’d left him. He sat there looking like he always did with a permanent scowl on his face, thoroughly entertained by three wild children running all over the place. Maybe if she allowed herself to one more delusional comment, she’d actually say he was attractive. Completely arrogant, but hot nonetheless.

  “You ready?” he asked, looking up at her.

  She nodded.

  The wind chilled her to the bone as they stepped outside into the cold. She burrowed in her jacket, shivering. Ryder helped her into the passenger’s seat and slammed the door behind her. Once he settled behind the wheel, she turned toward him.

  “I’ll be fine if you want to take me back to get my car.”

  Ryder sighed. “I don’t like this, Blake. Strange men hiding out in your car can easily hide out in your home. They can easily make you their next target.”

  “I have my gun.”

  “And a hell of a lot of good it did you a few moments ago when he came at you from behind and wrapped his hands around your neck.” He huffed a breath.

  “I’m a big girl. I’m also a trained officer. I can take care of myself.”

  “Fine. I’ll take you home and come get you in the morning before work. I want to make sure your car is checked out before you drive it, okay?”

  “What? You think someone would cut my brakes too?” She meant it as a joke, but he wasn’t joking. The grim expression on his face said that much.

  “You never know, Warren. I’d rather be safe than sorry.”

  * * * *

  Blake climbed into bed around midnight after making a date with Ryder to pick her up at seven-thirty the next morning. She tried not to think about the man that attacked her, but that’s all that went through her mind. Ryder didn’t help by saying she was defenseless even with her gun, either. She thought back, trying to put the clues together. Though it was dark and she didn’t see the man’s face, she recognized the smell of peppermints. That can't be a coincidence. The man that gave her the videos, the one that gave her the creeps, had a peppermint in his mouth. Completely far-fetched, but a thought she couldn’t get rid of.

  She closed her eyes and tried to push thoughts of the case away. She had always convinced herself that, with her gun, she’d be safe. She faced fear dead-on and didn’t back down from anything. So why did it concern her now? Or a better question being, why was she thinking about calling Ryder up and asking him to come back and stay with her?

  She knew why.

  Tonight she associated Ryder with safety, much like she did her partner. He took her to the hospital. Any respectable human being would have done the same thing. He was there during my crisis. That’s all. Yet she still wanted his comfort, for him to make everything safe. Wow, am I pathetic.

  Blake pushed up from the mattress after deciding sleep wouldn’t come. Maybe if she had a nice cu
p of chamomile tea she could relax and settle. She grabbed the gun from the nightstand and left the room. The house was eerily quiet. Blake listened to the creaks in the floor as she walked in bare feet.

  “There is nothing to fear but fear itself.” She entered the open kitchen and flipped on the lights. “You’ve never been afraid to live on your own before. Why start now, Blake? Especially after all you’ve been through in life. It’s never been easy but you’ve never been afraid.”

  She blew out a breath slowly, and reached in the cabinet for a mug. From the time she turned eighteen and entered the police academy, she’d been on her own, fighting the hard way to get what she wanted in life.

  “It’s really not that big of a deal.” She laughed a bit hysterically. “There are no real monsters. No boogieman hiding under the bed. There is nothing to be afraid of.”

  “Do you always talk to yourself when you’re alone?”

  Blake turned and screamed. The mug fell to the floor, crashing against the hardwood. The sound echoed in the large room. Ryder stood in the doorway, eyes wide, though he tried for a look of innocence.

  “Don’t do that!” Blake crossed the room and slapped his arm. Once, then twice. “You scared me to death.”

  “Sorry.”

  “How did you get in here?”

  He grinned. “I’ve got special skills, detective.” She propped her hands on her hips, narrowing her eyes at him. He sighed. “I took your key off your key ring when I followed you inside.”

  Blake backed up and leaned against the counter. She didn’t know if she should feel relieved or annoyed. “He’s screwing with my head.”

  “Who?” Ryder moved forward to pick up the pieces of the mug. “The masked man?”

  She nodded. “I don’t feel safe in my own home. I’ve never had that feeling before. I’ve been on my own since I turned eighteen. I haven’t lived with anyone since childhood, and I’ve never been scared of being alone.”

  “You were attacked. It’s natural to feel scared. Even if you are a badass cop.” Ryder tossed the pieces into the trashcan. “Which is precisely why I came back. I planned on sleeping out in the car all night, but it got cold, and while I am hot-natured, I really didn’t see the point in staying in a poorly insulated vehicle when I could stay in a warm house.”

  Blake stared at him dumbfounded. She should have been mad. Normally, she probably would have been. She barely knew him, after all, and rumors about his past painted him as a major part of his partner’s death. His resume didn’t present the perfect formula for a decent houseguest.

  “You planned to stay outside all night in your car for me?”

  He licked his lips. “Contrary to whatever you’ve heard or opinions you’ve made, I’m not a complete ass. I have about five percent of good inside me that leaks out more than I’d like. It’s why I became a cop in the first place.”

  He’d made himself at home, she realized, when he pulled out another mug and went to the pantry to retrieve the chamomile tea. He filled the tea kettle and set it to boil before looking up at her.

  “Don’t get me wrong. I can be an ass at any given moment when provoked.”

  Blake sat in one of the chairs at her breakfast table. “What happened with your last real partner?”

  Ryder gave her his back, watching the tea kettle. “We worked on a case, and he didn’t tell me he went to the main suspect’s house by himself. He got ambushed. The department attacked me for not being there for him, and I haven’t worked with a partner since.”

  The shrill of the whistle ended their conversation. Ryder poured her a cup and dipped the tea bag into the steaming-hot water. He sprinkled some sugar inside the cup and brought the mug to her.

  “So you have no trust in others?”

  Ryder didn’t respond to her question. “Hopefully the tea will help you sleep. Do you have a spare bed for me or am I taking the couch? Considering your reaction to sharing a hotel room with me, I assume I won't be sleeping in your bed.”

  Blake ignored his last comment and sipped at her tea. The warm fluid instantly comforted her, heating her body and relaxing her muscles at the same time. “I have a spare bed upstairs. I—”

  “You asked me a personal question. Do I get to ask you one as well?”

  Blake narrowed her eyes. “My question was hardly personal.”

  “Yes or no?”

  Trust went both ways, a little voice echoed in her mind. “One. Better make it good.”

  “Rumor has it you’re a virgin. Is it true?”

  Blake’s lips parted in shock. “Where did you hear that?”

  “It’s a rumor.” He shrugged. “Guys talk. Plenty have said you turned them down so you must either be a dike or a virgin.”

  Blake blinked at him a few times. “What’s it to you if I was either way?”

  Ryder grinned. “Is that a yes?”

  “It’s none of your business.” She lifted her mug and swallowed a gulp of tea. “And the guys we work with are scum. They want a one night stand with a willing body and not much else. I don’t care too much for that.”

  “What do you care for?”

  Blake stood and returned her mug to the sink. “Sleep is what I care for right now.”

  She led him up the stairs and into the spare bedroom. The small bedroom held a twin-sized bed, with a comfortable mattress. She grabbed extra pillows and blankets from the linen closet and piled them on the bed.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  “Sorry, but it’s this or the couch.”

  “A twin? Other than a kid, what human being sleeps in a twin-sized bed?”

  Blake smiled. “You, for tonight.”

  Ryder groaned. “Fine. But if we’re bunking with each other in the future, we’re going to my place. At least I’d front you with a queen-sized bed.”

  She smiled to herself as she left the room. Hopefully, she’d get a good night’s sleep and wake up refreshed and ready to work on the case.

  She settled in her bed and pulled the covers up to her chin. It wasn’t the masked man that kept her awake this time, but the luscious man in the next room. Sleep obviously wasn’t coming tonight.

  Chapter 3

  Ryder woke with the blankets tangled around his waist and legs. He opted to sleep in his jeans but decided to take his shirt off before crawling into the small bed. He pulled at the covers, kicking his legs slightly and lost his balance. He missed the edge of the mattress and fell back, landing soundly on the floor with a loud thud.

  “Shit!” He jerked the sheet off of him and rubbed his eyes.

  “Are you okay in there?” Blake knocked once and entered the room. “What are you doing on the floor?”

  “That bed is trying to kill me.” He stood and stretched his tight muscles.

  “Do you want to sleep in my bed?” She leaned against the doorframe. “I’m up now and about to start getting ready for work. You can lie down in my bed for an hour or so if you want.”

  He stared at her. “You mean it?”

  “Sure. I always run in the mornings. You’ll have peace and quiet.”

  Ryder rubbed his hands over his face. “I’m not passing the offer up, but is running such a good idea? A guy just attacked you last night.”

  “I always pack my gun and a can of mace.” She shrugged. “Besides, things aren’t as scary in the daylight.”

  “Fine. Take your cell.” He grabbed a pen from her desk and pulled her hand out, writing his number on the back of it. “Call me if something happens.”

  She grinned, a cute little grin that made him think twice about ever agreeing to sign on as her partner. “Yes, dear.”

  He moved past her and followed the hallway to the master bedroom at the end, half-groaning when he spotted the feather-soft bed situated in the middle of the room. He walked the necessary steps to reach the side and fell face first, losing consciousness before his body hit the mattress.

  The second time Ryder woke, Blake had come out in a towel wrap, with h
er hair in a turban, singing softly. Droplets of water sprinkled her back from her recent shower. He watched as she entered her closet and grabbed her clothes for the day. He closed his eyes, feigning sleep when she stepped out, waiting to see if she’d drop the towel in front of him.

  “You can forget it, hotshot,” she said. “I heard you grumble.”

  He smiled. “How was your run?”

  “Better than sex, but then again, how would I know since I’m a virgin?”

  He pushed up from the mattress. “If a run was better than sex, the guy wasn’t doing his job right. But then again, if you’re a virgin, I guess you need someone to prove to you sex is way more fun.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Get ready. I called the station, and we’ve got a lot of tapes to review. Looks like we’re in for a long day.”

  * * * *

  Blake pressed her fingers in her temples. “Something fishy is going on. I requested the tapes of surveillance and the head of security went directly to the box without so much as even looking at the label. And to beat it all, he had a peppermint candy in his mouth.”

  Ryder’s head jerked to the side, his eyes meeting hers. “The guy?”

  She shrugged. “It’s awful coincidental, isn’t it?”

  He pulled into the police station and parked in his regular spot. “I don’t like the way this is starting to unfold.”

  “That makes two of us.”

  For the rest of the day, Blake and Ryder spent their time reviewing the tapes. They ordered pizza for dinner and watched nearly six hours of video looking for the one specific shot of the valet and the car. Nothing.

  “Look, we should probably head out.” Ryder popped the tape out of the player. “I had Rizzo check your car over, so it should be fine to drive home.”

  Blake nodded. Fear didn’t grip her as tightly tonight. Seth Cameron may not be the masked guy that assaulted her, but she wasn’t taking any chances. She took inventory of her weapons. Her standard gun stayed at her hip from the time she dressed to the time she undressed. Her backup stayed at her ankle until she went to bed. She had a can of mace on her keychain and a knife in her nightstand drawer. She would be fine.