by Terri Reed
The thought that someone in a position of authority would abuse his or her power made her sick to her stomach. “You sound like Jim.”
Her partner had been full of suspicions about everyone at the center lately, not just the kids.
Parker snorted. “I’m just saying, you never know what’s really gone on with anyone. We all have a persona we want the world to see and it doesn’t always reflect the actual nature of who we are.”
“Too true.” She used her public persona constantly to cover the heartache, the grief she worked hard to keep tapped down inside. Over the rim of her cup she watched him and wondered if he was really as kind and grounded as he appeared. What sort of person was Parker when he wasn’t in uniform?
“What are your plans for this weekend?” she asked, steering the conversation away from the disturbing note and the many unanswered questions swirling around them.
“I’m heading to a classic car show over in Odessa on Sunday after church.”
“So you’re a car buff.” And he went to church. Unaccountably that pleased her. It wasn’t like she was a regular attendee. The few times she’d made it to the Sagebrush Christian Church, she’d sat in the back and didn’t stay long enough to mingle when the service ended. To say she and God had a bit of a strained relationship was an understatement.
“Big time. I restored a Mustang Shelby GT 350 a few years ago. Now I’m working on a 1965 Sunbeam Tiger.”
She could picture the white and blue Mustang. She’d seen it in the police station parking lot. Though she hadn’t realized he owned it. “I don’t know what a Sunbeam Tiger is.”
“The Sunbeam Tiger was the first British-made car to win a Grand Prix race.”
For the next half hour, Melody listened to Parker talk about his car. Hearing the excitement in his voice as he gave her the historic details of the car company made her smile, and his enthusiasm for cars was endearing. She wondered if he put that much passion in other areas of his life. She’d already witnessed his devotion to Sherlock. She doubted the beagle wanted for anything. Would Parker treat a woman with as much care and devotion? Was there a woman in his life? Someone who shared his love of cars and dogs?
She had no business wondering anything about Parker’s love life seeing how she would never be a part of it. She forced back the questions as they cleared their empty mugs and plates and headed back to the youth center.
At the door to the center she stopped. “Thank you for the coffee.”
He held the door open. “You’re welcome.”
Entering the center, she glanced back at him. “You’ve been here all day. Don’t you have to be somewhere?”
He shook his head. “Nope. Sherlock and I will stick around until closing. Then we’ll make sure you get home safely.”
Surprised, she tucked in her chin. “You don’t have to do that. I’m perfectly capable of seeing myself home.”
“I know you are,” he said, his voice pleasant, his expression neutral. “Still... Someone threatened your life today. I’m not taking any chances with your safety.”
His concern was sweet, even if she knew it wasn’t warranted. “As sweet as that is, I don’t need protection.”
He shrugged off her protest. “We’re staying.”
The adamant tone of his voice grated on her nerves. However, she doubted she’d change his mind. The man seemed to have a stubborn streak as wide as the state of Texas. “Fine. I’ll be in my office.”
Aware of him following her, she stalked to her office. Taking a deep breath, she hoped there wouldn’t be any more surprises inside. All appeared fine as she entered.
She sat at her desk and turned her attention to the case file on Rio’s disappearance. Lifting her gaze to Parker, who stood in the doorway, she said, “This case is so baffling. Why would someone steal Rio?”
He leaned against the doorjamb. “That’s a question we’ve all been asking ourselves.” He moved inside and closed the door. Sherlock lay down, his head resting on his paws, his eyes on her. “We received intel that Rio was taken to track something valuable in the Lost Woods.”
She nodded. “Right.” She looked down at the notes in the file. “Pauly Keevers, an informant, had provided that information. The police department has scoured those woods, though.”
“True. However, we’re still no further with our investigation.”
“I can’t imagine how hard this is on Captain McNeal and his son.” Everyone knew how attached Captain McNeal’s son had become to the German shepherd after the boy’s mother died two years ago. A car bomb meant for Captain McNeal took his wife’s life instead.
“It is hard.” Parker looked down at Sherlock. “I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to Sherlock.” The dog’s ears perked up at hearing his name.
Tenderness squeezed Melody’s heart. She had no doubt Parker loved his K-9 partner very much. The dog was more than a tool to be used on the job. Sherlock was Parker’s constant companion. A bond as close as any blood relation. All the K-9 unit dogs were beloved, and any loss stung as badly as if they were human. “You two work well together.”
“We do. But it takes a lot of training.” He gave her a wry smile. “For both of us.”
She held his gaze, liking his humble admission. Liking him. Her heart thumped against her breastbone. She dropped her gaze to the file and forced her focus on the case and not on how handsome and appealing she found Parker. “How is Captain McNeal’s father?”
When Rio was kidnapped, the thugs responsible had beaten Patrick McNeal senseless. He’d been in a coma for a month before regaining consciousness.
“Doing better. He’s up and around, moving slow, though.”
Some of the tension in her eased a bit at the news. “That’s good to hear. I’m sure recovering from something so horrific would be hard. Especially for a man of his age.” Her gaze snagged on a notation written in the margin of the report. “What is the code?”
When Parker didn’t immediately answer, she glanced up. He stared at her with a curious mix of wariness and speculation.
“Is there something in that file about it?”
“A hand-written note,” she said.
He strode across the office, rounded the desk and peered over her shoulder. He braced himself with one hand on the desk. His scent wrapped around her, making her acutely aware of his proximity. Her senses ignited. It took effort to point to the words scribbled in black ink and not let her hand shake with the effect of his nearness.
“We’re not sure.”
“You’re working the case, too?”
“We all are.”
That made sense. It was their beloved captain’s partner missing, after all. She cocked her head and peered up at him. She could see the stubble of his beard on his strong jawline and the well-defined shape of his lips. His warm brown eyes met hers. She could spend all day staring into those chocolate-colored orbs. Worry that she was getting too close, too emotionally involved churned through her. She refocused on the topic. “Care to elaborate on what you do know?”
“We first heard about the code when Adrianna Munson, aka The Serpent, died.” His voice dropped to a low tone. “Her dying words were, ‘Cousin. Code. Danger.’”
Arianna had owned the posh diner in town, one that Sierra had sometimes worked at, which was why Melody had started frequenting the place before the diner shut down. Somehow going there every morning had given Melody a sense of connection to her sister.
The police recently discovered that Arianna was a middle-level manager in the crime syndicate invading Sagebrush. A fact Melody was sure Sierra hadn’t known.
A few months ago, Arianna—The Serpent—had tried to kill Valerie Salgado, another K-9 officer, after Valerie had witnessed Arianna leaving the scene of a murder. Arianna had been killed in the process of taking her down. “Was Arianna’s cousin involved?”
He straightened but didn’t move away. “Nicki Johnson isn’t involved with the syndicate. Arianna threw her under the bus
by telling a syndicate lowlife named Derek Murke that Nicki had the code. Murke tried to kill Nicki to gain the code, but Nicki didn’t have it. Officer Salgado and FBI Special Agent Lewis got to her in time. Murke was arrested and taken into custody. He lawyered up and won’t talk. So we have no idea what the code refers to.”
“But it has something to do with the crime syndicate,” Melody said, her mind working to connect the dots. She picked up a pen and fiddled with it to distract herself from Parker’s closeness. His energy hummed through her like a low-voltage current. “If Rio was kidnapped to find something in the Lost Woods, maybe this code has something to do with whatever’s in the woods.”
“That’s what we think. In an effort to protect the citizens of Sagebrush and hoping to expose the villains, Slade sent out a press release stating the K-9 unit was in possession of ‘the code,’ hoping it would make the crime syndicate back off. Too many people have died trying to obtain it.”
“Did the ruse work?”
He hesitated a moment, his expression contemplative.
She arched an eyebrow and twirled the pen again.
Seeming to have made a decision, he said, “We think that’s why the police station was searched.”
A sick feeling kicked up in the pit of her stomach. “Which supports the theory that the crime syndicate might have one of our own on its payroll.”
“Unfortunately.” He placed a hand on her shoulder. The pen froze. A hot spurt of molten lava erupted at the point of contact and spread through her. “That’s why you have to be very discreet with your investigation.”
She hated the idea that someone within their ranks would be working with the crime syndicate. Given that Captain McNeal had handed her the file and Parker had confided in her about the subterfuge, she guessed they didn’t suspect her. Which was gratifying. And ratcheted up her determination to help bring Rio home.
A soft knock on the office door drew her attention. “Come in.”
Ally Jensen stepped in. Her gaze widened when she saw Parker, her eyes clearly landing on his hand atop her shoulder. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were busy...I’ll come back.”
“No, stay,” Parker said. He squeezed Melody’s shoulder before moving away. “Come on, Sherlock, let’s allow Melody to get some work done.” At the door, he paused to say, “What time do you want to leave?”
Aware of Ally’s curious glance, Melody said, “Seven.”
He nodded and disappeared out the door with Sherlock trailing behind him.
“Are you and him going on a date?” Ally asked as soon as they were alone.
A blush worked its way up Melody’s neck. “No, nothing like that.” But the thought grabbed a hold of her imagination. She shoved it away. “I do not date people I work with,” she stated firmly, for her own sake as much as for Ally’s.
“Why not?”
“Relationships are messy and complicated enough without adding the pressure of working together to it.” Besides, once he decided to move on, as he’d inevitably do because that was what men did, it would make working and living in Sagebrush awkward. She liked her life uncomplicated and peaceful. Or as peaceful as death threats and unsolved murders could be.
“Sounds like an excuse if you ask me,” Ally said.
Melody refused to acknowledge any truth in the younger woman’s words. “So...what can I do for you, Ally?”
* * *
At seven, Parker returned to Melody’s office. Her door was open and he stepped inside. Sherlock tugged at the leash wanting to go to her. Funny how much the beagle liked her. Though Parker had to admit there was much to like about the detective. Even though Sherlock’s breed was affectionate by nature, the dog didn’t seek out others, preferring to stick close or follow a scent. Drug training had made him wary. Or maybe one too many bad guys kept Sherlock suspicious. Maybe like owner, like dog. One relationship gone haywire and he ran for the hills anytime he started to fall for a woman.
Melody sat at her desk poring over what looked like an accounting ledger. Earlier today she’d had her hair clipped back in her usual sleek style. Now her dark tresses were loose and cascaded over her shoulders in a straight, silky sheet. He much preferred it down.
Her face was a study in concentration, her lids lowered slightly over her blue eyes, her mouth pursed just a bit. His gaze snagged on her lips. Lush and full and a pretty shade of natural pink. He’d never seen her wearing too much makeup. Just a light coating of mascara to darken her thick lashes.
She didn’t try hard to impress the way some women did.
She didn’t need to. She was impressive any way you looked at her. From her professionalism to her earnest desire to make a difference in the lives of the teens of Sagebrush.
He admired her poise under pressure. Though he’d seen the flash of fear in her eyes when she’d read that note this afternoon, she’d quickly pulled herself together. She wasn’t about to let anyone get the better of her. Which he’d already seen in action the day she’d faced down Zane and a nasty-looking blade.
The woman had guts. And that was precisely why he wanted to escort her home. If she found herself in a dangerous situation, she wouldn’t think twice about plunging in. There would be no retreat. He didn’t want her to get hurt. Or...killed.
His need to protect her stemmed from professional courtesy. He couldn’t allow there to be any other reason.
He cleared his throat.
Her gaze jerked up, her eyes widening a fraction. “Is it seven already?”
“Yep.” Sherlock strained at his restraint when he heard her voice. Parker let go of the leash. The beagle trotted to her side and sat, staring at her.
Melody smiled softly, but didn’t reach to pet him. “Hi, there, Sherlock.”
Still leery. The best way for her to get over her fear of dogs was more exposure. Parker had no doubt Sherlock would wear her down and she’d end up loving the dog. Just as long as she didn’t turn that tender emotion on him. “How soon do you want to leave?”
“Now’s perfect.” She tidied up her desk. “My car’s out back.”
“I know.” He’d seen her driving the light green VW Beetle, so he knew which was hers. “I parked next to it when I arrived. Sherlock and I will follow you to your place.”
They left the youth center and drove across town toward a residential apartment complex flanking the Sagebrush Shopping Center. She led him and Sherlock through the entryway and up two flights of stairs. The building was older with fraying carpets, but it appeared clean. Her apartment was at the end of the hall.
When they approached her apartment door, she froze.
“Melody?”
With her key in hand, she pointed to the lock where there were scratches in the door and on the gold metal.
Parker reached for his weapon. Someone had tried to break into her apartment.
* * *
“This is getting to be a regular thing with you,” Rose teased lightly as she finished up dusting Melody’s apartment door for fingerprints.
“Not something I hope to get used to or want to continue,” Melody replied. She hated the sense of violation that crept through her. Her door hadn’t been breached, but the feeling of invasion still managed to squeeze her lungs tight.
“No doubt,” Rose said, pushing her glasses up with the back of her gloved hand. “You should double bolt this door. Just in case.”
“We’ll get that done tonight,” Parker stated.
Melody’s eyebrows shot up. Oh, really. He was now making decisions for her?
The crime-scene technician left and Melody turned to look at Parker, ready to tell him to butt out but the words didn’t come.
Shadows from the dully lit apartment-complex hallway deepened the contours of his face but couldn’t hide his concern. Knowing he worried about her touched something deep inside and made her ire dissolve like ice on a hot sidewalk.
He stood a few paces back, holding Sherlock’s leash while the dog sniffed the crack of apartment 4C. Th
e dog was probably attracted to the smell of Mr. Hendrix’s gourmet cooking. The widowed older gentleman routinely invited her over to share a meal he’d prepared. She suspected he liked having the company and purposely made larger quantities than needed for one person.
The apartment door across from her apartment opened. Ethan Ryling and his wife, Kenzie, stepped out. Tall with close-cropped hair, Ethan was a pharmacist at the local drugstore while Kenzie, petite with short red hair and a big smile, was a nurse at Sagebrush General Hospital. The couple had moved in not long after Melody. Though Melody didn’t know them well, she’d found them pleasant on the occasions that they met in the hall and chatted.
Kenzie rushed to Melody’s side and put a hand on her arm. “Is everything okay?”
Not wanting to spook the couple, yet knowing they had a right to know, she answered honestly, “Someone tried to break into my apartment today.”
“I knew I should’ve called the police,” Ethan said, his voice rife with self-recrimination. “When I came home at lunch earlier, I saw a grungy guy at your door. He saw me and made a big show of knocking and then high-tailed it out of here. I didn’t think much of it at the time.”
“Can you describe this guy?” Parker asked.
“Tall, scraggly hair to his shoulders. He wore ripped jeans and a T-shirt.”
Melody met Parker’s gaze. The speculation in his brown eyes made her think he’d also come to the conclusion that Zane Peabody had tried to break into her apartment. But why? Did the hoodlum know more than he was telling her? Had he been the one to slide that threatening note under her office door?
“Should we be worried?” Kenzie asked, her green eyes wide. “I mean, do you think it was random? Should we talk to the super about getting some kind of security for the building?”
“That’s a good idea,” Parker said as he stepped forward.
“Is your dog friendly?” Kenzie asked Parker.
“He is. His name’s Sherlock.”
Kenzie bent to pet the beagle. Melody wondered if the dog’s coat was as soft as it looked. Someday she’d have to work up the courage to see. The dog sat patiently for a moment then walked away, his nose hovering above the ground.