She Can Hide (She Can Series)

by Leigh, Melinda

  Brooke smiled, but her eyes weren’t convinced. Fifteen years of teaching high school math had honed Brooke’s bullshit detector. “I’ve known Ethan for years. You can trust him.”

  “I don’t know.” Abby’s experience with the police wasn’t as rosy. Her rushing nerves drove her to her feet. Zeus raised his head and watched her pace the kitchen. The blood alcohol request made her leery.

  “Honey, I’m sure you haven’t done anything wrong, but you don’t remember what happened. The police have to cover their bases. They don’t know you like I do.”

  “How do you know?” Abby whirled, the sudden motion jarring her head. Pain spiked across her temples. “I can’t even say that for sure. I don’t know what I did.”

  “I know you.”

  Guilt welled inside Abby. Brooke only thought she knew her.

  She walked across the kitchen and took Abby by the shoulders. “You could never do anything illegal. You never speed. You count to three at stop signs. Remember that time the clerk at the mall gave you an extra five dollars in change? You made me drive all the way back so she wouldn’t get in trouble. You are probably the most law-abiding person in the state of Pennsylvania.”

  “I’m scared.” The statement slipped out before Abby could stop it.

  “I know,” Brooke said.

  Zeus barked again. Abby went to the front of the house. She separated the mini blinds with a forefinger. A police cruiser pulled up to the curb and parked.

  Ethan parked his cruiser in front of Abby Foster’s narrow house. She had obviously put some work into her home. Wooden clapboards were painted a gleaming, clean white. Bright sunshine reflected off glossy maroon shutters and sparkling windows. The harsh winter sun highlighted her well-kept home but emphasized the sad condition of the house next door. Overgrown shrubs and peeling paint gave the place a vacant look.

  A brisk wind sliced through his uniform pants as he climbed out of his vehicle. He recognized Brooke Davenport’s small SUV parked in the driveway in front of the narrow garage. Ethan climbed the front steps. Inside the house, a large body moved from the front window to the door and back again.

  What the hell was that?

  The deep woof sounded from the other side of the front door. It opened as Ethan tapped the snow from his boots on the porch post.

  “Officer Hale.” Abby gestured toward the inside of her home. “Come in.”

  In slim yoga pants, an oversized sweater, and thick socks, Abby could’ve passed for a teenager. Her blonde hair was pulled back in a ponytail, leaving those big brown eyes to dominate her fine features. The sadness pooled in their depths made Ethan want to fix everything.

  A whine diverted his attention to the giant animal at her side. Ethan did not step backward, but he was tempted. With her free hand, Abby held the collar of a gigantic dog, but the gesture was symbolic. There was no way she could hold that animal back if it wanted a piece of Ethan. It wasn’t that much smaller than the roan pony in his barn. But the pony didn’t have canines big enough to rip off a limb. The dog was as tall as a Great Dane and had similar markings, but instead of the lean Dane body, Abby’s dog was massive. His broad, heavily muscled body was covered with short, fawn-colored fur. A square head ended in a black muzzle. Large folds of skin hung loosely from his powerful jowls.

  “Is it a bear or a lion?” Ethan scanned for signs of aggression but saw none.

  “Neither. This is Zeus. Are you afraid of dogs?”

  Ethan’s masculine pride recoiled at the implication. “No,” he said louder than he’d intended.

  Abby released the dog. Zeus sniffed Ethan’s shoes and wagged his thin tail. “He’s a mastiff. Shock is the typical response to meeting him for the first time, and sometimes the second.”

  Her eyes were clearer than the previous evening. The bruise and Band-Aid on her forehead highlighted her pallor. Darkness underscored the exhaustion in her eyes. His desire to protect and care for her disturbed him. There were too many unknown factors around Abby for Ethan to contemplate a personal relationship. His father’s death had ended Ethan’s career with the NYPD. He couldn’t afford to jeopardize his job in Westbury. Too many people depended on him. Not that Chief O’Connell would fire him over getting personally involved with the subject of an investigation. The chief’s fiancée had once been a case. But that wasn’t the point. Ethan had enough people under his watch.

  He held his hand out to the dog.

  “He’s friendly.” Abby smiled, catapulting her from pretty to gorgeous. She had the kind of warm smile a man could wake up next to for a few decades.

  “Good thing.” He patted the broad head. A string of saliva dripped from the hanging jowls of Zeus’s black muzzle and landed on Ethan’s shoe.

  “Sorry about that, Officer Hale.”

  “Ethan, please.” Yeah. That’s the way to maintain his professional status. In reality, though, he’d grown up in Westbury. Most of the townspeople called him by his first name. “That’s OK. I grew up on a farm. I’m used to animals.”

  The front door opened directly into the living room. He wiped his feet on the doormat before stepping on the gleaming hardwood floor. The walls were painted a soft yellow, set off with bright white trim. A worn sofa and chair faced the fireplace and small flat-screen TV. Stairs against the living room wall led upstairs. “And I’m glad to see you have a big dog.”

  “Zeus is better than any alarm. There is no security system in the world that will tell me if someone is standing on the sidewalk thinking about breaking into my house.”

  “An alarm system still wouldn’t hurt. Security is all about layers.” Ethan followed her through the dining room, checking out a few pictures on a sideboard as he passed. Abby with Brooke and the track team at a big celebration. Several photos of Abby at various ages with a blonde woman who had to be her mother. She looked to be a generation older, with the same delicate features but with a hard edge to the set of her mouth that said her life had been a disappointment. “Dogs can be poisoned or shot.”

  Abby’s face paled, and he regretted his last comment.

  “Not that it happens often,” he said. “Dogs are a good deterrent for the average criminal.”

  The house was built shotgun style. Rooms were stacked one behind the other, with just an archway in between. The second story would be slightly larger as it extended over the garage. She led him into a tiny square kitchen. A table for two was nestled under the window. One empty mug sat on a yellow placemat. Yellow curtains framed a view of a yard fenced with chain-link.

  “Good morning, Ethan.” Brooke stood at the sink washing a mug. She placed it upside down on a drain rack and turned to Abby. “I’m going to run to the grocery store. You’re out of bread, and the milk is low. Do you need anything else?”

  Abby shook her head. “You don’t have to bother.”

  “It’s no trouble.” Brooke grabbed her purse from the counter. “You don’t have a car, remember? And I was going to come back and check on you again later anyway. You don’t think I would just drop and leave you alone with a concussion?”

  “Thanks, but—” Abby protested.

  “No buts.” Brooke fished her keys from her bag. “Call me on my cell if you need anything.”

  “All right. Thank you.”

  “That’s what friends are for.” Brooke’s eyes darted back and forth between Abby and the cop. “Bye, Ethan.”

  Ethan waited for the sound of Brooke closing the front door behind her.

  Uh-oh. They were alone.

  Abby stood in the middle of her kitchen floor and studied her thick socks. Ethan had checked her police records this morning. Before moving to Pennsylvania a little over two years ago, Abby had lived and taught high school in a middle-class suburb in southern New Jersey. She’d never received as much as a parking ticket. She was thirty years old but looked as lost and vulnerable as a child.


  Her eyes lifted to his. Hers were full of uncertainty. “Do you want some coffee?”

  “Sure.” Ethan took off his coat and hung it on the back of a chair. He stuffed his knit hat in his sleeve.

  “I can’t seem to get warm.” She pulled a mug from the overhead cabinet.

  “Me either.”

  The dog settled at Abby’s feet, but his attention was on Ethan. “I’ve never seen a dog that big.”

  “I didn’t know how big he was going to be when I adopted him from the pound. The woman who worked there was a little misleading with her estimate of Zeus’s age and size.” Abby poured coffee.

  A wry smile softened her face. Their gazes met, the brown of her eyes warming. The heat that flared in Ethan’s body was significantly lower. She blinked in surprise. Yeah. Whoa. It was way too soon for that kind of reaction, and given the circumstances of his visit, inappropriate. What were they talking about? The dog. That was it. Thank God for the dog.

  Ethan cleared his throat. “He seems like a great watchdog.”

  “He’s a big baby.”

  But the dog kept a wary watch on Ethan. He suspected if he made a move toward Abby, her baby would change its attitude.

  Dog tags jingled. Zeus lifted his heavy head and stared at the back door. His tail thumped lightly on the floor. Ethan tracked his gaze. A skinny boy loped into the kitchen, eyes bright and cheeks red from the cold. Shaggy brown hair and cautious eyes, the kid skidded to a stop when he saw Ethan. An impassive mask slid over his happiness. He wasn’t wearing a hat, and he was dressed in a worn jacket that was not nearly warm enough for the middle of winter. His sock showed through a hole in the toe of his sneaker.

  Abby stood. “Derek, this is Officer Hale.”

  The kid shrank back and pokered up, wiping his expression as clean as an undisturbed snowdrift. But he couldn’t control the innate wariness in his eyes. Was he apprehensive of strangers or cops?

  Ethan stood up and held out his hand. “Nice to meet you, Derek.”

  The boy, who looked to be around ten, stared down at Ethan’s hand but made no move to accept the shake. Zeus shoved his body between them and broke the awkward tension.

  “Derek lives next door.” Abby’s smile didn’t touch her eyes. “He’s my dog walker. He and Zeus are buddies.”

  “What grade are you in, Derek?” Ethan shoved his left-hanging hand into his jacket pocket.

  “Eighth,” Derek mumbled as he backed away.

  “Did you need something?” Abby asked.

  “Nothing important.” Derek jerked a cold-reddened thumb toward the back door. “I’ll catch you later.”

  “OK,” Abby said in a too-bright voice.

  With a quick nod, the kid bolted for the exit. Wet sneaker soles squeaked on hardwood, and the back door slammed.

  The kid was small for an eighth-grader, Ethan thought. “Guess he isn’t a fan of cops.”

  “Don’t take offense. He’s shy. He warmed up to Zeus long before he talked to me.”

  But the forced ease in Abby’s voice put Ethan on guard. Something was up with her young neighbor. Her eyes shut down like emotional storm shutters. Any warmth he’d felt when they’d been discussing her dog earlier dissipated.

  She was hiding something. The boy had troubles that Abby didn’t want Ethan to know about. Why not?

  Abby poured two mugs of coffee. “Cream or sugar?”

  “Black is fine. Thanks.”

  She set two cups on the table and sat across from him. “I assume you’re here to discuss the accident?”

  And the kid was officially removed from the discussion. “Yes. Have you remembered anything?”

  “No.”

  “I talked to your principal and a couple of your coworkers this morning. They all corroborated that you left immediately after school, but no one remembered anything useful.” Everyone had been concerned about Abby. Not one had complained about being disturbed on a Saturday morning. The kids and parents loved Abby. No one had anything negative to say about her. Everything he found out told him she was exactly what she appeared to be. It was only her attitude toward him that made him suspect otherwise. “I want you to give me a list of the places in town you frequent: your dry cleaner, coffee shop, anywhere you might have stopped between school and the park. Someone must have seen you.”

  “I hope so.” Abby picked up her empty cup and went to the coffee machine. Why was she so reluctant to help him?

  He should leave and let her get some rest. Instead, he stood and followed her to the counter and set his mug in the sink.

  She replaced the carafe on the warmer and turned.

  Their bodies were only inches apart. “Why are you so nervous? You know I only want to help, right?”

  Nodding, Abby retreated as far as she could. Her eyes widened as she bumped into the counter that formed an L behind her. He crowded her, leaning in and catching a whiff of peaches. Her shampoo?

  Her eyes darkened. Desire?

  Ugh. That didn’t help with his plan to keep his professional distance. Neither did the way her eyes showed the emotions she worked so hard to hide. “Can you write that list now?”

  “Yes.” Abby lifted a shoulder. The neck of her sweatshirt shifted, giving Ethan a view of creamy skin and delicate collarbone. He didn’t stare. Not long anyway.

  Why was he spending so much time investigating her accident? Yes, there were too many inconsistencies for his comfort. But those anomalies could be explained. So was his interest really in the case? Or was he fixated with the woman involved?

  She wrapped her arms around her body. The pure vulnerability in her posture ignited an instinct to comfort and protect her that nearly overwhelmed him. Regardless of his personal situation or professional impropriety, there was no way he was letting her case go just yet.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Abby gathered her thoughts. The accident and missing hours had muddled her brain. Plus, Ethan was way too close, and the proximity with his body wasn’t helping her to think clearly. She could see the tiny flecks of silver in his piercing blue eyes and feel the heat that rose from his skin. The need to connect unfurled inside her. She should tell him to back off, but part of her wanted the opposite: to trust him, to hide, to let him take care of everything. There was more to him than bone-melting good looks. Ethan exuded integrity and honesty. But she’d known him for a day, not nearly long enough to place her future in his hands.

  She nodded toward the table. “Let me get a paper and pencil.”

  Ethan took a step backward and gave her room to pass. She carried her coffee to the table, grabbed a tablet, and started writing. The list was longer than she’d anticipated.

  “You don’t remember stopping at any of these places?” He frowned at the paper she handed him.

  “No.” Abby’s stomach turned. She set the coffee mug down. Toast would’ve been the smarter option.

  Ethan surveyed her with a doubtful gaze. Could she blame him? The whole amnesia thing sounded like a daytime soap plot. All she needed was an evil twin to round out the details. Still, despite the skepticism in the set of his mouth, he tucked the list into his pocket.

  “I’ll run by these places. Maybe we’ll get lucky and someone will remember you came by.”

  Unease rolled through Abby. He’d questioned her fellow teachers and her boss. Now he was going to ask questions at every other place she frequented. “This is a small town. By Monday, everyone will be talking about me.”

  “I know.” Empathy flashed in the deep blue of his eyes. “But don’t you want to know what happened?”

  Sort of.

  “Yes.” Unless it was really bad, in which case she already had enough nightmares. But the unaccounted time chipped away at her peace. It was a big, black hole that threatened to swallow her new life. How could she ever relax without knowing?

 
“The chief and I are going over your car this morning, and I’m going to pull the security tapes at the school.” He ripped a piece of paper out of his notebook and wrote down an address. “Your car is at the impound garage. You’ll want to notify your insurance company.” He pulled a card from his pocket. “Here’s my card. They’ll want a copy of the accident report too.”

  He slid the papers across the table.

  “Thank you.” Abby didn’t reach for them. “I assume they’ll total the car.”

  “Probably. It’s old. Frankly, you’re better off getting another one. Once a vehicle’s been submerged…”

  She nodded. She’d have to dip into her savings to replace it. Another chink in the independence and security she’d worked hard to build.

  He stood and shrugged into his coat. Despite her determination to act like an ordinary citizen, her experience with cops wasn’t positive. What was it about this one that caught her off guard? Ethan Hale was a complicated man. He’d risked his life to save her, and he was determined to find out what happened to her. Was he an honest, by-the-book cop? Or was there a dark side to him? In her experience, no one was that bright and shiny.

  “Call me if you remember more.” He stood. “I’ll let you know if my investigation turns up anything else. I’ll probably have more questions.”

  “All right.” She walked him to the front of the house. “Thank you.”

  “It’s my job.” He replaced his hat.

  How deeply would he dig into her life? If he found out what really happened yesterday, could she live with the truth? Or would she have to reboot her life all over again? Pain squeezed her heart as she looked around her house, every inch of it remade with her hands. God, it would hurt to leave it all behind.

  The cop car pulled away from Abby’s house. Derek peered around the corner of the house. Crusted snow crunched under tires as the cop drove away. Were the police asking about him? Or did something bad happen to Abby? The bruise on her face looked painful.