Count on a Cop 49 - Julianna Morris

by Honor Bound

  “Never, but there’s always a first time.” He looked into the fireplace. Her cleaning efforts that morning had included sweeping the ashes from the grate and laying fresh wood. “No fire? This is the type of night for one.”

  “I’m working on my book. There’s no point in lighting a fire in one room when I’m going to be in another.”

  “I suppose not. About your security… I want you to consider spending the next few nights with Henry and Gina. Just to be safe.”

  Safe?

  Her heart thumped painfully.

  It would be Monday before she could call an alarm company about a security system, and who knew when one could be installed. Yet running to Henry and Gina’s was admitting defeat, and she didn’t think anyone would have the nerve to return with the police watching the neighborhood so closely.

  “I’m not going anywhere.”

  Ben gave her a hard stare. “What’s the big deal? They’d love to have you.”

  “This is my house. I’m not leaving it.”

  “It would still be your house.”

  “And I’m not taking my problems to them or anyone else. You and Toby live in the duplex, as well,” she said heatedly. “On the off chance that I’m at risk in some way, do you really want me so close to your son?”

  Ben looked taken aback. It was clearly something he hadn’t considered.

  “That actually makes sense.” He tossed his backpack into a corner and settled onto the couch. “So, Toby is doing a sleepover with Gina and Henry, and I’m doing a sleepover with you. It smells great in here, by the way. Anything to eat?”

  “You aren’t staying.”

  “Since staying with my aunt and uncle is out, you’ll have to put up with me.”

  “No, you can go home and I’ll take care of myself.”

  “Are you afraid the neighbors will think that we’re having…‘fun’ together? Don’t worry, I parked on another street.”

  Kelly glared. “The neighbors aren’t going to think anyone is having fun after being disturbed twice by the police, once in the middle of a good night’s sleep. But don’t pretend you’re concerned about my neighbors’ opinions or my reputation. You were never very subtle about returning my bra after one of our so-called dates.”

  Her reputation had always been a sensitive subject for her…not that Mitch had understood any better than Ben. Mitch because he’d been Sand Point’s golden boy who nobody would have said a word against, and Ben because he’d never cared what anyone thought. Why was it that the wounds of childhood kept hurting as an adult? She still made decisions that were influenced by the verbal stabs and pricks of her younger days.

  Ben assumed an innocent air. “They were real dates, and that was a long time ago. I’m here to protect you.”

  “You haven’t changed that much.”

  “Now I’m hurt.”

  It would take a sledgehammer to hurt Ben, so Kelly didn’t take his wounded expression seriously.

  “Go home,” she said. “You’re overreacting. Officer Getz saw someone running from my property, but you don’t even know who or why. There could be an innocuous explanation.”

  “Such as?”

  “Such as a teenager drinking, figuring he wouldn’t get caught if he hid in the bushes in the dark. The truth is, you wouldn’t be here now if I wasn’t friends with Henry and Gina. You would have told anyone else in town to be careful and to call 911 if there was a problem.”

  His humor and fake emotion vanished. “You’re forgetting there may be a link between the murders and your novels. I don’t want to scare you, but until we know what’s happening, you aren’t staying alone.”

  Ben wasn’t going to back down without a major battle, and Kelly was tired. Surely allowing an obnoxious, pushy cop to sleep on her sofa wasn’t a threat to her independence…except that the obnoxious, pushy cop was Ben, and his suggestion of a sleepover had raised images she’d rather ignore.

  “Maybe you just want to keep an eye on me, in case I had something to do with Simon and Harvey’s murders. Is that it?”

  “Good God, no.” The instant denial was oddly soothing. “I was ticked that you hadn’t told me about the books, that’s all. I apologize. Sit down and we’ll talk.” He patted the broad leather cushion beside him and smiled invitingly.

  Said the Big Bad Wolf to Red Riding Hood.

  Kelly pressed her lips together. Ben had charm when he chose to use it, along with abundant sex appeal. It was a miracle he hadn’t convinced her to sleep with him when they were eighteen. Though if he’d stuck around that last week he might have succeeded. She’d been ready to surrender when he’d given up and left town.

  She shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

  “You don’t trust me?”

  “I don’t have any reason to trust you.”

  The invitation in his brown eyes disappeared and his brow furrowed. “That’s one of those obscure, figure-it-out, feminine statements that doesn’t have a real answer, like the nonsense about why you didn’t call me when you first thought someone was outside the house. I’ve been a cop for over ten years. Most people would consider that enough reason for trust.”

  Kelly let out a breath. She wasn’t trying to be obscure—she just didn’t want to get into painful explanations he wouldn’t understand. She didn’t believe in cosmic balance, the kind where people from your past came back and things worked out so the scales were even. Mitch had restored the cosmic balance nicely; there wasn’t anything for her and Ben to resolve.

  The problem with her reasoning was that Mitch was gone and Ben was here, solid and real and sexier than ever. She’d even bet that his technique had improved beyond an ability to remove her bra one-handed.

  “It isn’t a riddle unless you want it to be. You aren’t dedicated to what’s just and right because you care about people. It’s an intellectual choice you’ve made without any passion.”

  “I’m a good cop, Kelly.”

  “I know, but what sort of person are you?” She opened the cedar chest where she stored extra blankets and took one out. “Here,” she said, dropping it on the couch. “Light a fire if you want. I’m going upstairs to work on my manuscript. I hope you brought a book to keep you entertained.”

  He regarded her for a moment, then relaxed. “I guess that means no food.”

  “You know where the kitchen is—help yourself.”

  With surprising agility for such a tall man, he levered himself up and caught her at the base of the staircase. “I hope you’ll rest better with me here.”

  “Last night was an anomaly,” she lied. “I’m sleeping perfectly well without you.”

  “Yeah?” Ben leaned close and traced above her cheekbones with the tip of a finger. “What are these shadows from? Surely not from one night.”

  Kelly couldn’t be certain. Was he teasing, or trying to talk himself into her bedroom? She was tempted. It had been so long…her body craved the touch and closeness of a man. And this was Ben. She’d spent her eighteenth summer wondering what it would be like to make love with him, if two teenagers fumbling in the cab of an old pickup qualified as making love. She still wondered, but curiosity wasn’t reason enough to jump into bed.

  She stepped back, breaking the contact. “How I’m sleeping is none of your business, and it definitely isn’t part of protecting me.”

  Kelly marched up the steps to her office, then shut the door and leaned against it. She wasn’t a kid. She understood that you made decisions and lived with them. Consequences came from both acting and not acting, and they meant missed opportunities. Nevertheless, she wasn’t willing to get involved with Ben again, even on a limited basis. Perhaps she was a coward, or too cautious, but that was how she’d learned to survive.

  It might be different if he wasn’t in law enforcement; being a cop was as dangerous as being a fireman.

  No.

  Cop or not, Ben was Ben.

  Kelly lifted Frodo from the office chair. He grumbled a complaint then s
ettled across her lap like an oversize rag doll.

  The computer was in sleep mode and she flicked the mouse to bring it to life. Her characters had gotten themselves into a muddle and now she had to write their way out.

  She yawned and tried to clear her head.

  Ben was right about one thing; she wasn’t resting at night. It was hard to feel safe when she was frightened of shadows.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  BEN LISTENED TO KELLY firmly close her office door and shrugged philosophically. At least she hadn’t thrown him out of the house. That was progress.

  He took his leather jacket and took the murder case files from his backpack. Something had been nagging at him for a couple of days, but he couldn’t put his finger on the source.

  Interviews, autopsies, evidence inventory….

  Hmm…autopsy.

  Ben put his feet on the coffee table and thumbed through the pages. The homeless victim had a tattoo on his left upper forearm, the kind an army guy might get, but the medical examiner thought it was relatively recent. The design was similar to historic military tattoos, suggesting Simon may have gotten the tattoo to honor the military, rather than having served himself.

  Still… Ben tapped his fingers on the entry. There was something about the description that seemed familiar.

  All at once he recalled a paragraph in Kelly’s novel, Deep Sea, about her victim’s arm bearing a screaming eagle tattoo, clutching a snake and descending over a representation of the earth. The tattoo was in black ink, with no other color.

  Whether she’d intended to or not, Kelly had effectively described Simon in her book. The implications were significant from an investigative standpoint. He’d figured Kelly was tied to this because of the similarities between her second novel and Harvey Bryant’s murder. Maybe it also had something to do with Simon.

  Restless, Ben got up and found a stash of cookies in the kitchen that rivaled the contents of a small bakery. He stood at the window munching on a gingersnap and looking at the bushes along the driveway.

  He’d checked for intruders when he had arrived at the house, and considered checking again, but anyone watching could slide through the bushes into the neighbor’s property if they saw him coming.

  Was he overreacting?

  His instincts said no, and they were usually right. His head wasn’t so sure. Knowing how much Kelly meant to his aunt and uncle could have screwed with his gut. As for his own feelings…they were screwing with his gut in a different way.

  Though he wasn’t hungry, he rummaged in the fridge and discovered a tasty meat loaf covered with a sweet, tangy topping. He slapped a couple of slices on bread with horseradish sauce and wandered back to the living room.

  The house was large and solidly built. The main level had an open, spacious floor plan, with hardwood floors and a broad view of the ocean out the rear. The simplicity surprised him, yet even as a teen Kelly had never dressed or acted like her mother. He’d forgotten that when he’d seen her house the first time. Perhaps this was her dream—something tasteful, as far from Shanna James’s tacky style as possible.

  He popped the last bite of sandwich into his mouth and examined a professional studio photograph of Kelly and her husband on the mantel over the fireplace. In it they appeared happy and pleased with life. As much as Ben hated admitting it, he could have become friends with Mitch Lawson. Mitch had a rueful honesty in his face that was entirely likable.

  A faint, stealthy sound came from the kitchen and Ben took the automatic out of the shoulder holster beneath his leather jacket. Parking the next street over hadn’t really been to protect Kelly’s reputation—it was to keep whoever was watching the house from knowing that he was there. That way Ben might have a better chance of learning what was going on. It was a sound tactic, but maybe he should have parked his Jeep in the driveway, a big and unmistakable Stay Away sign for everyone to see.

  The open floor plan that he’d appreciated was a liability now that he needed to approach unobserved. Ben slid along the length of the wall, listening for evidence that he’d been detected himself, and angled around the short partition that separated the kitchen from the rest of the space.

  He was about to yell “freeze” when he saw a familiar feminine outline.

  Damn.

  Kelly flipped the light on as he replaced the automatic in its holster.

  “A gun? You can’t be serious,” she exclaimed.

  “I thought you were upstairs writing. How did you get down here so quietly?” Ben demanded, deciding her question was rhetorical. He was a cop, he carried a weapon, he was on a protection assignment.

  “There’s a staircase off the utility room. Didn’t you see it when you searched the house last night?”

  “Of course I saw it. I also saw the back door, right next to the stairs. You had to make my job tougher, didn’t you? Give the perp two avenues of access to the second floor, on two sides of the house.”

  “Sure, that’s why I bought this place, because I knew someone could be stalking me one day and you’d be forced to protect my virtue.”

  Ben scowled. “Well, you should have let me know you were there. I could have hurt you.”

  “I’m sooo sorry. I’m not used to having policemen in my house at night with guns and attitude.”

  “Why were you being so quiet in the first place?”

  She raised her nose in the air. “I wanted some milk and didn’t want to disturb you.”

  Ben restrained a curse and went to check the door. It was too bad Kelly wasn’t a suspect in the murders, he mused as he tested the sturdy locks. That way he could tuck her safely in jail and spend the night in his own bed. On the other hand, if he could get her to let him spend the night in hers…

  Oh, yeah.

  That was a huge possibility.

  The gun made it even more of a long shot. There was a reason cops had such a high divorce rate—though Dawn hadn’t left because he was a detective and she couldn’t cope with the dangers in his work. She’d left because of his detective’s salary. When they’d met she’d assumed he had access to his parents’ wealthy lifestyle, only to discover they were barely on speaking terms, with no thawing in sight…sort of like him and Kelly.

  “Nobody’s out there,” Kelly said when he returned.

  “How would you know?”

  “I talked to the prowler from the office window. He told me he was taking the rest of the night off unless I needed anything—you know, like Chinese food. Should I have given him an order, or are you good with what’s in the fridge? I think he would have delivered.”

  Oh, God. This wasn’t going to be easy.

  Pain throbbed in his temples. He knew Kelly was nervous about someone stalking her, yet she was giving him a hard time. They couldn’t go on like this. One way or another they would have to clear the air.

  But not tonight.

  The steely glint in her blue eyes told him to stay away from personal subjects. Hellfire. He shouldn’t have flirted with her earlier. Climbing into the sack with a woman you were protecting was unprofessional and made you lose your edge.

  Except Kelly wasn’t just another citizen of Sand Point. She was the surrogate daughter of his aunt and uncle, and his first love. If he’d made other choices, she could have been the mother of his child. And on top of everything else, Toby adored her. How would his son handle it if Kelly got hurt…or worse? Ben couldn’t treat her the same as anyone else, any more than he could take the chance that she wasn’t in danger.

  “Kelly, you have to take this seriously.”

  “Why? You’re taking it seriously enough for both of us.”

  “It’s my job, remember?”

  Her expression became blank. “Fine. Do your job. I’m going back to work.”

  “What about your milk?”

  “I don’t want it anymore.” Turning on bare feet, she padded to the utility room. As she rounded the corner, Ben’s gaze lingered on the curve of her bottom, snugly clad in worn jeans. The fain
test whisper of sound came from the staircase as she climbed it and he grimaced. He would have preferred loud creaks, alerting him to movement.

  Actually, there were a lot of things he would have preferred, but it was too late for second beginnings.

  THE NEXT MORNING KELLY bent over the bathroom sink and splashed cold water on her face. The brief snatches of sleep she’d managed had been filled with bizarre dreams about guns and people breaking into the house with motives that didn’t make sense.

  She yawned.

  How would she teach Sunday school, feeling this way? She adored her class, but five-year-olds had short attention spans and endless energy. A hot shower might do her some good, except getting naked with Ben snoozing in her living room felt too exposed. Was it rude not to have offered him the guest room? He wasn’t an actual guest; he’d barged in and insisted on staying. The rules of hospitality were fuzzy under the circumstances.

  Kelly moaned and stumbled to the bed. Frodo was the only male she wanted in her life. Other relationships were too complicated.

  All at once she raised her head and frowned.

  What relationship?

  Ben had spent the night because it was his job. Besides, she was too mature to be self-conscious about getting naked. Why shouldn’t she take a shower?

  More from defiance than conviction, Kelly undressed and stepped into the long, gray-green slate shower stall. She had indulged when remodeling the bathroom and loved the natural stone and glass accent tiles. It was a reflection of the sea—stormy grays and greens and blues.

  Forty-five minutes later Kelly put down the hair dryer. The hot water hadn’t helped, so she’d switched to cold and was still shivering.

  The scent of fresh-brewed coffee rose from the ground floor. Time to deal with her unwanted house-guest. She took the rear staircase, making as much noise as possible to keep Ben from pulling his gun on her again, only to find a note on the counter.

  Hope you don’t mind, made coffee and ate cookies. I’ll be back tonight. Regular police patrols will scout the neighborhood. Be careful. Call me if anything seems odd. B.