Her response made him blink, then grin as joy filled him. “That’s great,” he said, resisting the urge to pull her close for a quick kiss. Not here, in front of the station. No telling who might see.
“That is, if your invitation is still open.” She climbed into the passenger side and buckled her seat belt.
“Oh, it most definitely is.”
“Great. If I’m going to take a vacation, I might as well have as much fun as I can,” she teased.
His body stirred as images of exactly how much fun they’d be having filled his brain. Damn.
On the short drive to Pizza Heaven, he had to fight not to touch her. He couldn’t believe how badly he wanted her again, after having spent the previous several hours making love.
“Here we are,” he said, his voice a bit raspy as he pulled into the lot across from the restaurant. There were only a couple of cars parked here at this early hour, most likely prep employees, since Pizza Heaven wouldn’t be open until eleven for lunch. “Which one’s yours?”
Scanning the area, she turned to face him, her expression panicked. “Hunter, I don’t see my car. I parked it right here last night. But it’s gone.”
He searched, too. “What kind of vehicle is it?”
“A white Volvo.” Her voice wavered. “Someone must have stolen it.”
“Did you have any kind of GPS theft-deterrent device?”
Slowly, she nodded. “I think so.”
“Then we can trace it.” This was where being a police officer came in handy. “We’ll get your car back, don’t worry.”
Chapter 7
For whatever reason, the theft of her car hit her hard. It felt like the final straw in a gradually increasing pile. Layla usually never cried, at least in public, and this had long been a point of pride with her. But now, after everything that had gone wrong in the last few days, when her eyes welled up and tears started slipping down her face, she just let them fall. Twice in fewer than twenty-four hours meant everything was going very wrong.
“Hey,” Hunter sounded concerned. “Please don’t cry.” A trace of panic edged his voice. “Layla, it’s going to be okay.”
“Is it?” Sobbing now, she covered her mouth and turned away so he couldn’t see. Most of the men she knew reacted to weepy women with varying degrees of horror or disgust. Why should Hunter be any different? She huddled as close to the passenger door as she could, her shoulders shaking, mouth covered as she tried to cry as quietly as possible.
Instead of recoiling, Hunter reached for her. “Come here, sweetheart.”
Though she wasn’t sure if she should, she half turned, her fist still in her mouth. He pulled her close and then, wonder of wonders, he simply held her and let her cry it out. Inside, she marveled and allowed herself to feel comforted, maybe even loved.
Whoa. Where had that come from? Pushing even the thought away, she sniffed and wiped at her eyes. Like she needed one more thing to worry about. Attraction might sizzle between them, for sure. But attraction and love were two completely different things.
“Here.” He handed her a couple of paper napkins he’d gotten from the pocket in his door.
Grateful, she accepted them, blotting her eyes and finally her nose. “I’m sorry,” she finally managed, her voice a bit more wavering than she’d have liked. “I’m not really a weepy kind of person. I don’t know what came over me.”
“Don’t worry about it.” His easy smile reassured her. You’ve been dealing with a lot. Having your car stolen...”
“Tops it all off nicely,” she finished with a wry smile, still dabbling at her leaky eyes. “To say the least. I really like that car.”
“You’re going to need to file a police report,” he told her. “Luckily, I can take that from you, so you don’t have to go back to the station.”
“Thanks.” She nodded, and then reached for the visor so she could use the mirror to repair the damage. She hadn’t put on very much makeup, so hopefully it wouldn’t be too bad.
It was. When she saw herself, she recoiled. “Jeez,” she muttered. Bright red nose, swollen red eyes and black mascara streaks, which at least she could wipe off. As for the rest of it... “I don’t think that’s fixable.”
“Don’t,” Hunter said, his voice warm. “You’re beautiful, Layla. Even after you’ve been crying.”
Though she knew he was just trying to be nice and make her feel better, oddly enough, she did. Smiling a still watery smile, she asked for more napkins. Once he’d handed them over, she proceeded to do the best she could to make herself look as normal as possible. When she’d finished, she realized she felt better. Apparently, crying could be cathartic.
“Are you ready for me to make the police report?” he asked. “No biggie if you’re not, but I’m thinking we might as well get that done.”
“I agree. I’m ready.” After she gave him her statement, right there in the squad car in the parking lot, they stopped at her place so she could pick up clothes and toiletries, and then went back to his house to take showers. Separate showers, of course. To her surprise, she toyed with the idea of slipping into the shower with him, imagining the naked fun they could have under the water. But she decided to save that for another day and right now focus on practicality over passion.
Goose greeted her with as much enthusiasm as she did Hunter, which tickled her. She even followed Layla to the guest bathroom, sitting down outside in the hallway when Layla closed the door.
Funny how a nice hot shower made her feel better. She dried her hair and got dressed in a comfy pair of soft leggings and an oversize sweatshirt, electing to go without makeup entirely.
When she emerged, she felt human again. Goose still waited, jumping up and wiggling her entire body when Layla petted her. She saw no sign of Hunter but since his bedroom door remained closed, she knew he hadn’t left.
With Goose right on her heels, Layla went to the kitchen and made herself a cup of coffee. She appreciated the choices he had in the variety of coffee pods. She chose a dark roast, added sweetener and a dash of milk, and wandered back out into the living room. She sat down in the overstuffed chair near the window, Goose at her feet.
Looking around the small house, she found herself imagining what it would be like to live here, to raise a family. The holidays, like Thanksgiving, with the countertops groaning with food, small children running around underfoot, friends and family laughing. She knew exactly where the Christmas tree would go, could imagine what kind of decorations would go best with his decor.
All the kinds of things she’d never allowed herself to enjoy. It always seemed a waste to decorate only for one.
Wistful, she shook her head at herself. She’d only seen gatherings like that on television or in movies. Growing up, Thanksgiving meant having a meal catered, eating in the cold formal dining room in uncomfortable silence. Later, her father had decided it would be better to ignore the holiday altogether. Part of her had actually been relieved.
Pushing the foolish thoughts from her mind, she got up and crossed the room, coffee in hand, and snagged the remote from the coffee table so she could turn on the television. This time, she sat on the couch, tucking her legs up under her, and invited Goose to join her. The happy dog promptly did, curling into her side. Still feeling remarkably at home, Layla watched a program where people searched for the perfect house. For whatever reason, she loved this show. Especially when each spouse wanted opposite things, making her wonder how they’d managed to stay married in the first place.
Hunter’s door opened and he emerged, hair still damp and tousled, as if he’d made an attempt to towel it dry. “Hey there,” he said, smiling. “Feeling better?”
“I am.” She smiled back, her stomach doing a somersault. “I hope you don’t mind, but I made some coffee.” She loved those crinkle lines around his eyes when he smiled.
“Of course I do
n’t mind. I told you, make yourself at home. Coffee sounds good. Let me grab a cup and I’ll join you.” His gaze drifted past her to the TV. “I actually like that show.”
Surprised, she nodded, dragging her gaze away from him and back to the TV. Goose, who’d raised her head when Hunter had entered the room, settled back down with a contented sigh.
“I think she likes you,” Hunter mused, returning to take a spot on the opposite end of the sofa. His amused expression told her he didn’t mind. “I always trust my dog’s judgment,” he continued.
Feeling her face heat—was she actually blushing?—Layla pretended to be engrossed in the drama unfolding between the onscreen couple arguing over which kitchen was better.
Her phone chimed, indicating an incoming call. Her father. She pushed the reject button, sending him straight to voice mail. Grimacing, she shook her head. “I’m thinking the head of Colton Energy isn’t too happy that I’ve taken a day off.”
He shrugged. “I’m guessing he’ll have to get over it.” Expression serious, he eyed the way she kept stroking Goose’s fur. “You’re good with dogs.”
“Am I?”
“At least with Goose, you are. Do you have a dog of your own?”
“No.”
“A cat?”
This made her smile. “No. I don’t have any pets. I work such long hours, I didn’t think it would be fair to them.”
He gave her a long look. “You’re the boss. Surely you could take a well-behaved dog to work with you.”
The thought had never occurred to her. Now that he mentioned it, she probably could. Since her father rarely graced the office with his presence, she doubted he would notice. “Noted for future reference,” she said.
“Since you clearly like dogs, have you ever thought about helping out at the K9 training center?”
His offhand question made her heart skip a beat. “I’d love to do that, but I wasn’t aware they’d let anyone volunteer.”
“You’re not exactly anyone, are you?” His grin took any sting off the words. “I mean, your mother’s trust got the training center up and running. At least that’s what I’ve heard.”
She nodded. “This past year I’ve been involved in the funding since the trusts ran out. Colton Energy donated quite a bit of money, and I solicited more from some of the other companies we did business with.” Thinking for a second, she took a deep breath. “I’d love to help out there while I’m off work. I could ask my half sister Patience, but as the veterinarian for the training center, I doubt she’s too involved with the volunteers. Do you know who I’d need to contact to see if such a thing might actually be possible? Sarah Danvers?”
“She’d be a great place to start,” he replied. “I’m sure there’s got to be something she needs help with.”
Suddenly, the prospect of a week or two away from Colton Energy felt energizing, full of promise. “I’ll call her after I speak with my insurance company,” she told him. “Would you mind taking me to get a rental car? I’m going to need something to drive until mine is found.”
If it was found. She could only hope for the best.
Once all the calls had been made, Layla’s mood greatly improved. Though the insurance company said she’d need to wait until twenty-four hours after the car had gone missing to file a claim, her agent had told her she carried rental reimbursement, which would pay her back for a rental car. She’d reserved a small, four-door sedan, which would be much different than her Volvo SUV. And best of all, Sarah Danvers had sounded overjoyed at the prospect of Layla volunteering. She’d asked Layla if she could start in the morning. Layla enthusiastically agreed, even though she had no idea what tasks she’d actually be performing.
“Wow,” she told Hunter after ending the call. “Thanks for the suggestion. I start tomorrow. It feels really good to take a leap of faith.” And to be doing something for her own satisfaction, rather than her father’s, though she kept that to herself.
* * *
After dropping Layla off at the car rental agency, Hunter and Goose headed into the police station. Hunter filed Layla’s stolen car report and thought about what the chief had said about finding the actual Groom Killer. Hunter decided to go ahead and make some sort of move.
Pretending to be acting as a private citizen rather than a police officer, he called Devlin Harrington’s office and made an appointment to meet with him. Though at first Hunter’s request was met with frosty disapproval by Devlin’s secretary, once Hunter had given the reason for his call, she immediately booked him a slot that very afternoon.
Hunter had done a little bit of digging and learned the youngest Harrington was an avid collector of rare sports memorabilia. In one of the K9 unit’s recent drug busts, they’d confiscated a good-size collection of old baseball cards. Hunter went into impound and slipped a couple in their protective sleeves into a hard, plastic sheath which he placed in his coat pocket, signing them out to be safe, even though he had every intention of returning them later. For now, he’d pretend to be selling them to the highest bidder. Not only would that gain him entrance into Devlin Harrington’s office, but it would give him an idea of what made the other man tick.
Whistling for Goose, who’d gone roaming the office, greeting her legion of fans, Hunter smiled when she came running full speed down the hallway, long ears flying. She skidded to a stop right in front of him, gazing up expectantly.
“Want to go to work, girl?” he asked, bending down to scratch behind her ears. Instantly, she perked up, since he’d used a familiar word, if not the actual phrase. He snapped her leash on and together they headed for his car.
He’d made his appointment with Devlin at two and he hadn’t mentioned that he planned to bring his dog. Goose had her breed and her looks to her advantage. No one ever suspected her of being a police dog, despite her being one of four dogs in the country trained to detect SD cards and thumb drives. She had longer legs and few skin folds.
To Hunter, Goose was the most beautiful dog who’d ever existed. He didn’t really care if the rest of the word thought she looked goofy. He slipped a voice-activated recorder into his pocket and he was ready to go.
The receptionist at Harrington Inc. blinked when he entered with Goose on leash. Hunter leaned on the counter to talk to her, turning up the charm full strength, and she eventually forgot about chiding him over the dog.
She called upstairs, reaching Devlin’s secretary, who told her to send Hunter right up. “Top floor,” she said, and then handed him a yellow sticky note with her name and phone number scrawled on it.
He stuck it in his pocket and headed toward the elevator. As soon as they were inside, he crouched down near Goose. “Ready for work?” he asked. The phrase was one of the cues he used to let her know what she had to do. “Time to go to work.”
Immediately, Goose began checking out the elevator. He chuckled. “At ease. Not yet, girl. Not yet.”
Devlin Harrington’s secretary looked up when he entered the room and frowned. She wore her steel-gray hair in an austere bun, which matched her prim, no-nonsense dress. “I’m sorry, no pets are allowed in here.”
Since Hunter noticed Devlin himself watching from inside his corner office, Hunter shrugged. “Maybe you should ask your boss. You know that the two of us have something important to discuss. Since I don’t go anywhere without my dog, I’ll have to leave. I really don’t think he’d like that.”
Pursing her lips in a tight line, she glared at him. “One moment, please.” Spine stiff, she marched into Devlin’s office. A moment later, she returned. “You may go on in. Along with your...animal.”
Grinning, Hunter decided why the hell not, and winked at her on his way past. Her face turned a dull red, but one corner of her thin lips twitched in the beginnings of a smile.
Finally. Hunter had schemed for weeks for a way to gain entrance to this office. He greeted the younger Ha
rrington with a courteous hello.
As Hunter entered his office and approached the desk, the younger man jumped to his feet and pumped Hunter’s hand a bit too enthusiastically. His gaze dropped to Goose and he frowned.
“What’s with the mutt?” Devlin asked, sniffing the air as if he smelled something foul.
“She’s not a mutt, she’s a purebred basset,” Hunter replied, keeping his tone mild. “Insult my dog, insult me. She quite enjoys going to work with me. Right, Goose? Work?”
The golden combination words of Goose and work had Goose’s nose working overtime. With her on lead, Hunter took a stroll around the large office. “You got some nice pieces,” Hunter commented, studying the collection of autographed baseballs, footballs, jersey and photographs, many of which Devlin kept under glass.
Goose pawed at one display case, her signal to Hunter that she’d detected the unique scent of some kind of data-storage device. He made a mental note and moved on.
As eager to show off as most collectors, Devlin sat back and watched, beaming with pride while Hunter took in the scope of his collection. Which, even though he knew next to nothing about sports memorabilia, Hunter had to admit seemed quite extensive.
One more wall to inspect. Goose signaled once more, tilting her head and looking up at him as she waited for her reward. He dug in his pocket, retrieved one of her favorite liver treats and gave it to her. He knew he’d want to check out those places in the near future. He just had to come up with a legal way, otherwise whatever he found wouldn’t be admissible in court.
When he returned to where Devlin still sat, Hunter took a seat in one of the plush chairs across from the desk. Goose stuck close and sat, too, her side touching Hunter’s leg. Alert, ears slightly back, she didn’t wag her tail as she watched the other man. She was telling him, in her wordless, canine way, to be wary around Devlin.
Good to know. As if he wasn’t already.
“You have something to show me?” Devlin asked, rubbing his hands together in anticipation.
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