by Geri Krotow
What the hell was going on with him? So what if Annie was hot? It wasn’t like he didn’t see attractive women all the time.
But none he had such a deep history with. “Yeah, we left it on crappy terms. I am sorry for anything I did that might have hurt you. We were kids, though, right?”
She sighed. “We were, but I’d like to think we shared more than the typical teen friendship.”
“I’m sure I was old enough to be more polite. I remember myself as a bit of a blockhead.” He indicated the chair next to his in the cubicle, and as she sat down so did he. “How are you doing, Annie? What are you doing? The last I heard you were in New York City.”
Her face, briefly open and almost vulnerable, snapped shut as tight as the security around Three Mile Island, the nuclear power facility only a thirty-minute drive away near Harrisburg. “I know you know I work for NYPD. Nothing escapes the Silver Valley grandmothers’ network.” She paused, an absentminded smile giving her face a soft glow. “I’m back here, though, for the time being. A few months. Running the local yarn shop for my grandmother.” She mentioned the name of the shop, one he recognized as being in the same building as a tourist adventure agency. “She recently had a minor stroke.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. She okay?” Couldn’t he sound more intelligent, come up with more than trite conversation?
Annie nodded. “Yes, she’ll have a complete recovery. A longer rehabilitation was in order, though, so my parents packed her up and shipped her to Florida, to their home in Naples. Grandma Ezzie can get whatever she needs there, from privacy to a bottle of her favorite sparkling wine.”
“Sounds ideal. But your mother didn’t want to run the yarn shop?”
“No, she thought it best she stay down there and help along Grandma’s rehab. I couldn’t argue with her. Besides, Grandma Ezzie is her mother-in-law, so the yarn shop hasn’t ever been something my mother felt particularly attached to.”
“I remember you always loved to knit when we were kids.” He couldn’t stop the chuckle that burst out of his chest. “Remember that sweater you made me in school colors?”
She blushed, and it was as if his dick felt the heat on her skin, too. He vowed to never go this long without a date again if it would keep him from making a fool of himself in front of Annie.
“I meant for you to be the envy of all the other kids, but instead made you a laughingstock. I am so sorry, Josh. You really took one for the team there. Wasn’t the body of it too short, the arms waaay too long?”
“All I remember is how warm it was at the freezing football game.” An immediate visceral image of them taking each other’s clothes off, including the sweater, in the back seat of his parents’ station wagon assailed him. And sealed his fate for blue balls.
Annie might have felt the same, but he couldn’t tell as she immediately shut down, went back into the shell he’d noticed the rare times they’d seen one another on her trips back to Silver Valley. They’d never even spoken, at most waved across a crowded mall or nodded during a Christmas church service.
“The receptionist says you showed her your badge?” He needed to make a copy of it.
“Yes, here.” She opened a leather case and showed her NYPD credentials. They looked like a badge but were in effect identification cards for her assignment as a law-enforcement psychological expert.
“So you’re a shrink to the cops?” He fought against the incredulity that bubbled deep in his chest. Because if he let her see his surprise, he had the distinct impression that Annie would clock him. Or else turn and leave with no explanation. And he couldn’t handle that, not when he’d just got her back again.
Wait, where had that come from? He’d never really had her, had he? And he wasn’t looking to “get her back.”
“I’m sorry, Annie. ‘Shrink’ is inappropriate.”
“Yes, it is. But it doesn’t surprise me that you have that kind of attitude. A lot of officers are threatened by psychology.”
He snorted. He wasn’t threatened by anything except for the real-deal feelings toward Annie that were surfacing from parts unknown. From his heart. All at once he wanted to know if she felt the heat between them, if his erection was one-sided. As he watched her, she licked her lips and softly chewed on her full, pink glossed lower lip. Yeah, he was pretty darn sure she felt it, too. Like if they didn’t crawl into bed this instant he’d spontaneously combust in the Silver Valley PD office.
How had he forgotten, shoved the memory of her to the far recesses of his mind? How had he sloughed it all off, thinking that what he’d had with her as a teen was just that, an adolescent crush? Because the fact remained that they were twelve years older, full adults, and yet Annie Fiero was the only woman he’d ever known who could make him feel like this.
* * *
Annie watched Josh’s attention shift from being totally on her to someplace over her shoulder. As much as his intense scrutiny had been flattering, it was also a relief to be able to breathe. This man was the same Josh she’d known, had the same smile, but he was far more potent. Heart-lethal, because she was already imagining what it’d be like to kiss him, and she didn’t even know if he was available. The brief thought of him involved with someone else made her inexplicably sad. Crap.
“Josh? You okay?”
His eyes were sexier than she’d remembered, shrewder, but had glazed over a bit. As if he didn’t believe her professional choice, didn’t accept the damn proof in front of him in the form of her IDs. Was it that crazy to think she’d become a police psychologist? And since when did she get so aroused by talking to a guy? Her hormones had been conducting rapid-fire drills since the instant she’d seen him across the office bay. Since before she realized it was the same Josh Avery who hadn’t been able to get the condom on after prom, giving her time to back out of their plan to lose their virginity with one another and thus ending their planned night of passion. An awkward end to an otherwise emotionally intimate relationship. He’d been the first boy she’d ever loved.
Maybe the only man, but he’d been so young. Not like he was now, all sexy muscle and deep voice conversation meant to make a woman drip with want.
“I’m great, Annie. Just thinking. You look a little peaked, though, if you ask me.” Wham. Without warning he turned the tables back on her. This was a new skill of Josh’s, because the teen she’d known was too sweet, too kind to play mind games. She shook her head.
“I’m fine. I came in here—”
“On a suspected domestic violence. Who’s hurt you?” His last word ended on what sounded like a feral growl.
“Not me. A woman who came into my grandmother’s shop.” She forced herself to calm down and stick to her purpose. “I know what signs to look for.” She didn’t have to remind him it was her job, did she?
“She told you she’s being abused?”
She recognized the practiced neutral expression, knew it intimately. He was used to people throwing accusations around, claims that if true could be lifesaving. If false, they could ruin a person’s reputation and potentially waste police time and, worse, risk an officer’s life.
“Of course she didn’t. If she’d be willing to tell me, she’d be willing to come to the police, right?” She leaned back in the chair and shoved off her thin, summer-weight sweater. It’d kept the chill of the AC off her shoulders but no air-conditioning unit could keep up with the heat wave. She rubbed her shoulders, trying to undo the myriad knots that had sprung up at the top of her back. “I do this for a living, Josh. I know you have no reason to believe me, other than you knew me a long time ago, which is why I’ve brought these.” She took out her credentials for the second time in ten minutes and handed them to him. “Feel free to call it in and talk to my boss. I’m the real deal. I see this all the time. And I saw finger marks on her throat. She’d covered them with makeup and was wearing a turtleneck. It’s ninety degrees out,
Josh. No one wears heavy clothes in this heat unless they have a reason. I only got a glimpse of the bruises because of the way she leaned over. But I also saw some higher, on her jaw. Probably older ones.”
“You’re sure?” His direct look was focused, his demeanor professional. Unlike her reaction to his nearness, which was chaotic as heat rushed to her face and her nipples tightened under her lightweight T-shirt. If his gaze moved lower, he’d see her physical reaction to him, and it wasn’t from the air-conditioning.
“I’m sure.” She paused, not wanting to tell him how to do his job but needing to know Kit would get the help she needed.
“I hear you.” He nodded. “But she’s not reporting it. So even if you have her name—”
“Kit Valensky.”
“I need more information. I prefer to talk to her directly if at all possible and—wait, what did you say her name was? Valensky?”
“That’s right. You know her?”
“Not personally.” His mouth was a straight line; his fingers drummed his desktop.
“But?” She’d wait him out. He knew something he didn’t want to tell her. Or maybe couldn’t, if it was a confidential police case. She was privy to whatever she needed to do her job in New York, but Silver Valley wasn’t the jurisdiction she was assigned. Josh didn’t have to tell her anything.
“But.” He blew out a breath and looked up from his desk, his eyes back on her. “She may be related to another Valensky in town. One we keep an eye on but never seem to have enough on, if you get my drift.”
“Maybe if I could talk to one of your detectives...” She looked at his badge, his uniform. She thought Ezzie had mentioned he’d been promoted, but maybe he didn’t like detective work.
“I am your detective, Annie. All of our officers and detectives are overcommitted right now, working a big case that’s spilled over from Harrisburg and Carlisle. Silver Valley’s caught in the middle of an ROC op.”
“Ouch. That’s a lot of work for a small force.” She knew what ROC meant. They had more than their share of it at NYPD. Organized crime of any type weighed down the caseload, pushed the officers to their limits as they fought not only to keep the streets of Silver Valley clean but human trafficking, the inflow of heroin and countless other ROC-related crimes. She looked around the station. “What do you have, thirty, maybe forty officers?”
He nodded. “Thirty-seven officers, three detectives. Four when I work as one.”
“I wondered about that—I was pretty certain Grandma Ezzie had told me that you were a detective. Why aren’t you now?” She waved at his uniform.
“Personal reasons. I needed the more regular hours for the short term.” His tone was tinged with regret. Based on the energy that vibrated off him, she suspected he liked to be in the middle of a case, solving it.
“Oh.” He must have a family. She didn’t see a ring, but a lot of officers didn’t wear them. It was for practical safety as a wedding band could lead to a severed finger in the midst of an operation, and to protect their loved ones from the vilest criminals who’d stalk their families. For some reason her stomach sank, and she experienced her first wave of defeat since returning to Silver Valley. Not that she’d hoped he was single, like her. His chuckle shook her out of her emotional pothole.
“What’s so funny?”
“I’m not married, Annie.” Oh, no, was she that freaking obvious? “What about you? Are you with anyone?”
“It’s none of my business if you’re single or not.” She bit her lip. “For the record, I’m not married, either. Or with anyone.”
“Ever been?” His teeth were so straight, so white, so sexy in that strong face. His lips were full for a man, yet only heightened his masculinity. “Annie?”
“Hmm? What?” She blinked. “No, never married. A few close calls.” One in particular that swore her off serious relationships for a long while after college and probably doomed the other, longer relationships she’d had. And made her extra sensitive to women like Kit. “You?”
Josh shook his head. “No, but I came close, too. I was engaged for a few years.” His face was unreadable. She wondered if he’d been hurt, why the relationship didn’t work out.
“That’s a long time. What ended it?” Shame sent warmth into her face again, and she held up a hand. “Wait, nix that. Sorry, it’s none of my business.” She’d come in here to help out Kit, possibly save her life. Instead she was flirting with a man she didn’t know, not anymore, not as the man he was today.
A tall, sexy length of police officer.
“That’s all right, Annie. It didn’t work because of a number of things, but mostly me. I wasn’t willing to commit to anything other than...” He trailed off, his eyes misting over but not with tears. Memories.
“Other than your job. I get it.”
“It wasn’t, wasn’t... We weren’t right for each other is all.” He cleared his throat, and she watched the smooth movement of his Adam’s apple, looked at his clean-shaven jaw and almost groaned when she noted the cleft in his chin. She had to stop this. She wasn’t in town for a fling, and a relationship with any man she met in Silver Valley would be short-lived. Her heart couldn’t deal with that right now. It was achy enough, thank you very much. “What about you?”
“Me? Oh, I’m pretty much a career girl.” She hated how much of a coward she was. Here he’d admitted some pretty private stuff, and all she gave him was a cute Mary Tyler Moore reply? “And my job at NYPD is all-consuming. As I’m sure you can imagine. Do you have a psychologist on your force?”
“No, but we contract out as needed. Whenever there’s a shooting, suspicious circumstances around a case that might be due to an officer, or when we have a rough accident or other first response scene.”
She nodded. “That’s what my job was meant to be, originally. But now we have so many cops who are military veterans with PTSD, and who’ve seen the worst here at home, too.”
“You mean like 9/11.”
“Yes. And the human trafficking.”
“We’ve got our share of the sex trade here in Silver Valley, believe it or not. This past year we had a local strip club employing underage girls from Ukraine. ROC brought them in. We’re working a huge case right now, as a matter of fact. There’s another suspected ROC group of underage women en route to Silver Valley. We’ve been able to stop these shipments before, miles away, but each time it’s getting closer to Silver Valley proper.” She saw the enormity of it in the lines etched between his brows.
“That reminds me—when I spoke to Kit, I got the feeling that how she came to the States might be questionable.”
“Hold that thought while I look a few things up.” His fingers flew over his keyboard, and she had to fight the urge to stare at his masculine hands. A man’s hands had always been one of her weak spots, and Josh’s would have made the throb between her legs pulse even if they weren’t. Guilt hit her in her gut. She was here to help out an abused woman, not get all sexy on an old crush.
Josh frowned as he read an open file. “The woman you’re talking about, Kit Valensky, is married to Vadim Valensky, the scumbag we suspect has dealings with ROC but never have been able to nail. We’re fairly certain he has ties to Dima Ivanov, but since the death of the number two guy in that chain of command, Yuri Vasin, there’s no connection we can prove. Did you know that we took out Vasin right here in Silver Valley two months ago?” He waited for her to shake her head. Heck, what had happened to her hometown? “We were thwarting a human trafficking operation the ROC ran. They’re up to it again, I’m afraid. Valensky’s a dangerous character if a fraction of what we suspect he’s responsible for is true.” Josh’s smile was gone, his intention clear. He wanted Valensky off the streets as much as she wanted to make sure Kit was safe. And Annie knew who Ivanov was—everyone in East Coast law enforcement did. He was the head honcho for ROC on the Eastern Seaboard.
“Kit’s in danger, then. We have to get her out of there.” Would waiting until the knit and chat night be good enough? Annie didn’t want to think about what could happen to Annie between now and then.
“There is a six-bedroom mansion on the top of Silver Hill, on the way to the mountains. The Appalachian Trail traverses right alongside its eight-foot wall. It’s a veritable fortress.” Frustration laced his words.
“You sound like you’ve tried to get on his property.”
“Maybe.” He stayed silent on the topic, and she respected that. She didn’t need to be privy to all the workings of a local case. But she still wanted Kit in a safe place.
“Josh, look, you don’t need to give me any details, but what I do need is a report filed that I witnessed those bruises on her. She’s supposed to come to our knit and chat tonight, between six and eight.”
“What’s that, a knitters’ meeting?”
“Yes. My grandmother has built quite the community with her shop, and the women as well as some men take care of one another like family. One of the regulars was in the shop earlier, and she was very friendly to Kit when she came in. Actually, you know the woman—it’s Ginny Vanderbruck.” They’d gone to school with Ginny’s granddaughter. “It’s clear to me that Kit is well liked and that the other knitters feel protective of her.”
“Let’s say she comes in tonight. Are you going to ask her point-blank if she’s in danger?”
“Absolutely. It’s my job. The only reason I didn’t yesterday is because I didn’t want to frighten her into not coming back. I gave her my number.”
“That’s good, all of it. I’m impressed, Annie. You’ve done more for Kit Valensky than anyone local’s been able to do in a long while. I don’t need her statement to press charges against Valensky, but if we can get her to confirm he did it, all the better.”