by Dawn Altieri
Emma followed Paula’s gaze around the living room. Sure, it needed updating, but she wouldn’t have chosen the word “dismal” to describe it. Unless you were comparing it to Paula’s house…okay, or any of the other houses across the street.
“Funny you should say that,” Emma said. “I was just trying to decide what I could do to liven it up a bit outside.”
Paula perked up again. “I can give you the name of my landscape designer. He’s very good.” She leaned in with a conspiratorial whisper. “He and I have already had many discussions about what we would do with this place if it were up to us.”
If it were her house, Emma might have been offended, but she didn’t get the impression Paula was trying to offend anyone. “That won’t be necessary. I’ve done my share of gardening, and it’s actually a favorite hobby of mine. I’d get started right now if I could.”
“There’s a huge garden center right next to the grocery store. Let me give you a ride into town. I was just going to do a little shopping myself.”
Emma glanced at Adam, who discreetly shook his head. “Thanks,” she said, “but we just got here, and I’m a little beat.”
“Are you sure? It’s no trouble at all,” Paula insisted as she waved her hand toward the SUV parked in her driveway. “I’ve got plenty of room, and I’d love the company.”
“No, I really shouldn’t. Maybe another day.”
“Suit yourself. Well, it was nice meeting you.” Paula turned and went back out onto the porch. “Have Jake give me a call when he gets back. We’ll do dinner.”
Excitement filled Emma as she closed the door and faced Adam. His eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Adam, how would you like to get a little closer to that ring?”
Chapter Forty-Five
Jake stood, shoulders square, arms folded across his chest, staring through the one-way mirror into the interview room. Al Marino and Lieutenant O’Shea sat opposite Benjamin Windsor, asking him questions in a calm, easy tone as though they were having a casual conversation over drinks at a bar.
They’d gone over his story three times already, and Windsor’s statement hadn’t faltered. He’d been in Dallas on a business trip. He hadn’t been anywhere near Emma’s apartment. Emma was nothing more to him than a good friend.
Al brought out a photo of Emma that Jake had printed off his phone and pushed it across the table. Windsor slid his glasses up the bridge of his nose to glance at the image.
“She’s a pretty girl,” Al said.
She sure as hell was.
Jake’s colleagues were aware of their prime suspect’s longtime thing for Emma and his recent attempt to make a move on her. Jake had suggested they work the angle that Windsor ransacked her apartment out of jealousy since he suspected she had something going with Jake. It was a plausible theory. Windsor had already accused her of it.
Jake had almost slipped and admitted that he was keeping her at his house since the department wasn’t doing a damn thing to keep her safe. He’d also almost admitted—to his fellow detectives, to his lieutenant, to himself—that he had real feelings for her.
Was he trying to validate what he was doing with her? To alleviate his own trepidation over dragging her into a relationship that would probably go nowhere and could cost him his job? Would it be worth the risk if he could have a future with her? He didn’t fucking know. But he did know the department had its own version of “Don’t ask, don’t tell.” If he spoke the words out loud—admitted he’d become physically involved with a potential witness—O’Shea would have to pull him off the case and he’d have no control over what happened next in the investigation.
And he’d lose any shot he’d had at that damned promotion.
So he’d suggested the line of questioning to Al, saying he just wanted to get a rise out of Windsor, and acted like it was ludicrous for anyone to believe he was involved with Emma. And now, whether his colleagues believed it or not, they were going along with it.
“It’s understandable,” Al went on. “We’ve all been there, buddy. Unrequited love, and all that. First you have to watch your big brother win her over, then some douchebag cop. I’d be pissed, too. So you shake her up a little. Steal her car, break into her apartment. Make her question whether the cop can take care of her. It’s a solid plan.”
“This is all Quinn’s doing, isn’t it?” Windsor asked with an angry chuckle. He turned toward the glass. “Where is that bastard, anyway? Is he too important to come face me himself?”
If he’d been in there, Jake would have had his hands around the asshole’s throat by now. Wiped that smug grin off his face, even if he did have an alibi. They’d done a little digging, discovered Ben was quite the ladies’ man, with a string of jilted lovers in his wake. It wouldn’t be a stretch to believe he was capable of losing control over a conquest he couldn’t achieve.
Still, Jake’s gut churned more with each passing minute. Windsor should’ve given them something by now, some clue he was hiding something. But he hadn’t.
This wasn’t right.
What the hell was he doing? Exactly what Windsor said he was doing. He had nothing on the man, yet he’d insisted on bringing him in, getting his statement, intimidating him just for good measure—but even that didn’t seem to be working. Jake was looking for ways to twist things well enough to arrest Windsor for something—anything—because of what he’d done to Emma—just a simple pass at her.
But Ben had been in Dallas.
And Emma would be furious if she knew Jake was this fixated on nailing the guy. He didn’t need to worry about Ben driving a wedge between them. Jake was fully capable of doing it himself.
“It’s not him,” he said through clenched teeth.
“I know,” Mack said. He stood a few feet away, mimicking Jake’s stance. “I tried to tell you, he was out of town all weekend on that business trip. He was getting out of an airport limo and carrying a suitcase up his front steps when they picked him up.”
So, great. It wasn’t Windsor. But if not him, who?
Jake had gone through the list of Emma’s acquaintances a hundred times. He didn’t know who to believe, who to trust anymore. He’d even started doubting his own judgment, stopped basing his professional decisions on facts, and he never did that. If he kept letting his emotions get the best of him, he’d end up right back in this observation room, watching Al grill some other poor schlub who had nothing to do with any of this.
He glanced at the clock. They’d been at it nearly three hours already. He’d made his point to Windsor. And come close to blowing the whole investigation in the process.
He picked up the phone on the desk and buzzed Al.
Al looked directly at him through the glass. “Yeah?”
“Cut him loose.”
Chapter Forty-Six
As Adam finished the last of the planting in the backyard of the beach house, Emma stood in the doorway and admired the results. It wasn’t much, but the new shrubs and the smattering of petunias and impatiens would fill in within the next few weeks, giving the property some much needed color.
She pulled her phone out of the pocket of her denim shorts. Ten minutes after five o’clock. Not bad for a few hours’ work, especially since she wasn’t allowed to go outside to help…and she’d been itching to go outside and help. She remembered she’d brought her laptop. What better time to go work on her resume?
The Tahoe’s engine rumbled from the street, announcing Jake’s return and distracting her from her plan. Moments later, he appeared in the kitchen, glancing beyond her through the open doorway and into the yard.
“What is this?” he asked as he squeezed past her and stepped out onto the deck. “I thought you two would be relaxing.”
Adam grabbed the towel he’d shoved into his back pocket and used it to wipe the sweat from his forehead. “She’s a slave driver, Jake.”
Jake fa
ced her with a contorted expression that could have been admiration, could have been annoyance. She couldn’t be sure. “What did you do?” he asked.
“I met your neighbor, Paula. She seemed nice.”
“Ah, Mrs. Dr. Harold Greenberg. She’s quite a character. But what does that have to do with this little renovation project?”
“She mentioned the garden center in town. I got a few things.”
“I can see that.” His features twisted further. “You left the house?”
“No.” Annoyance. The look was definitely annoyance. If she wasn’t certain he was pissed, she only needed to check the muscle twitching relentlessly in his jaw. “I had everything delivered. I haven’t set foot outside since we got here this morning.”
Jake turned to Adam. “And you—”
“She’s fine, isn’t she? And your yard looks a hell of a lot better. Mission accomplished.” He clapped Jake on the shoulder as he squeezed past him in the doorway. “I’m going to clean up and get out of here.”
Jake faced Emma once again. “You paid him, didn’t you?”
She shrugged. “Maybe a little.”
He could only hold his glare for so long. He hung his head, shaking it as he tried to hide his grin. Her nerves calmed when she saw it. He liked what she’d done, and she loved being able do it for him, to cheer the place up, to make him happy. It was part of what had drawn her to landscape design in the first place. People couldn’t help but be happy in a beautiful garden.
Her voice lifted with excitement. “These are climbing roses.” She pointed to the newly filled flowerbed nearest them. “I saw the trellis out there and I had to use it. They’ll grow like crazy all over that thing.” She pivoted toward the opposite corner of the house. “Those are flowering shrubs. There are a couple more in the front, but you probably noticed those on your way in. The rest are mostly annuals that will only last through the summer, but they’ll spread like weeds and they’ll look so pretty.”
“You’re amazing.”
Her gaze came back to him. Her cheeks flushed with warmth as he gazed back adoringly at her. “It’s just some flowers.”
“I’m not talking about the flowers.” He moved in close and brushed his lips over hers. “Thank you, Emma. It’s beautiful. All of it. I don’t know why I’m surprised. But you have to tell me how much all this cost.”
“It wasn’t that much. Don’t worry about it.”
“Come on. You have to let me pay you back.”
“Hi, remember me?” she said in a wry tone as she draped her arms over his shoulders. “More money than I know what to do with? Believe me, I wanted to do more. I have visions of rock walls and raised flowers beds, but there’s only so much I could accomplish under present circumstances.”
He surveyed the yard, gripped her waist, and kissed her again. “I’ll help next time. We’ll plan another weekend when we can do some more.”
A weekend with him in the future? A weekend she’d secretly hoped for but didn’t dare imagine. She loved the thought of spending time with him doing normal, everyday things, and not being with him simply because he had to keep an eye on her, to keep her safe from a murderer.
She pulled herself back to the present. “Anyway. How did everything go in the city?”
Chapter Forty-Seven
Jake really didn’t want to answer the question.
With an aggrieved groan, he nudged Emma inside the beach house and closed the door behind him, bracing himself for her reaction to what he was about to say. “Patrol picked up Ben this morning.”
“What?” she asked on a gush of air.
Jake held up a hand. “He’s been released. We ruled him out, at least for the break-in. Here, sit.” He motioned toward the dining room table. She took a seat, with a horrified expression still marring her face. Jake pulled his phone from his pocket. “We got the footage back from your apartment, and Mack and Al agreed it looked like him. That’s why they brought him in and why I went back. But he was in Dallas. He’s got hotel records to back up his story.”
She remained silent, staring as if waiting for him to start making sense, as if nothing he’d said made any sense at all.
“Take a look.” Using his phone, he queued up the surveillance video Mack had dug through and sat next to her so she could watch it. “Maybe you’ll see something we missed.”
The hallway outside her apartment appeared, taken from a camera mounted at the junction of the wall and the ceiling. The numbers on the doors were hard to make out, but her apartment was off the bottom left edge of the screen, out of sight of the camera. After a moment, the elevator doors to the right opened, and a man dressed in jeans, a dark T-shirt, and a Yankees ball cap stepped out. He turned in the direction of her apartment, out of view.
She watched carefully, but Jake knew with the baseball cap pulled low and the man’s face obscured, there was no way she could identify him with any degree of certainty.
She lifted her eyes to Jake’s. “Is that all there is?”
He skipped ahead in the video. The man calmly returned to the elevator and disappeared as the doors closed. “He was inside for about thirty minutes. This is the only camera on your floor, so we don’t have anything else except footage of him punching in a security code downstairs.”
She stared at the image of the now-empty hallway on the screen as though she expected a more obvious culprit to appear. “And we already know that no one else has my security code. Just Ben.”
“Clearly, someone cracked it. I just need to figure out who. The tech guys will analyze the footage more, compare it to other photos, estimate height, weight, that sort of thing.” He ran his hands roughly through his hair. “Emma, I’m sorry. I was so sure it was Ben.”
She faced him again. “You had every reason to think that, and I’m glad you followed through, even if I acted like I didn’t want you to. It’s not like this creep is making it easy for you to catch him.”
Once again, she’d put her faith in Jake when she didn’t have to, reassured him when he should have been the one reassuring her. “We’ll get him.” He took her hand and squeezed it. “I promise. Just maybe not today.”
She gazed up at him with exhaustion in her eyes. “I know you will.”
But he still wasn’t sure she believed it.
Chapter Forty-Eight
The next morning, the sky boasted clear blue, making Emma desperate for some fresh sea air and sunshine. Things had been quiet since Jake returned to the beach house, and she managed to convince him they needed to get out for a while. He led her out front and pulled up the rolling garage door, revealing a black Harley parked inside the small storage space.
Her mouth fell open. Time and again, he proved he was full of surprises. “Is this yours?”
“Yes, it is,” he said as he handed her a helmet. “Have you ever ridden?”
She took the helmet from him clumsily, having never even held one before. “No, I haven’t.” An unfamiliar sense of adventure kicked in. She’d never done anything dangerous in her life, but with a murderer out to get her…what better time to start?
“Is this okay?” He gestured toward the Harley. “If you’re nervous, we don’t have to take the bike.”
“No, I want to,” she said excitedly. She’d never imagined herself on the back of a Harley riding across Long Island, but with Jake, somehow it made perfect sense. “Where are we going?”
“That’s a secret. Here, let me help you.” He reached for the helmet, lowered it over her head, and strapped it in place before putting on his own. “Climb on.”
He started the engine, and they were off. She banded her arms around his waist, breathing in his masculine scent as she held on for dear life. She was comfortable enough cruising slowly through the streets of the sleepy beach community of Bayville, but once they reached the major roads, she tightened her grip and pressed herself
against the solid muscles of his back.
“You okay?” he called out to her.
“Okay” was an understatement. “I’m great,” she shouted above the roar of the engine.
Her adrenaline soared, and she felt more alive than she could ever remember. The sensation of the wind passing over them, the scent of salt in the air, the vibration of the bike beneath them…it was her first taste of true freedom in days, weeks—maybe even her entire life. She was glad he couldn’t see the childlike glee that must have been evident on her face.
“Good,” he replied. “It’s not much farther.”
Soon they pulled off the highway and rolled through the streets toward Northport and the Long Island Sound. He drove into the parking lot of a strip mall and cut the engine. “How was that?” He climbed off the bike, took off his helmet, and helped her with hers. “Not too bad, right?”
“That was awesome,” she replied, still trembling with elation. “You know, once I got used to it.”
“Ha,” he said. “I was afraid I might end up with a few broken ribs.” She frowned an apology, and he laughed. “Hey, I’m not gonna lie. I enjoyed having you hanging on.”
She nudged his shoulder with a smile and turned to face the building. A carved wooden sign above the shop directly in front of them read Helen’s House of Flowers, and beautiful hand-painted flowers covered the window beneath.
“Where are we?” she asked, hit with a slight curl of envy for whoever Helen was.
“Northport,” he said and wrapped his hand around hers.
Her gaze swept the rest of the building—a bagel shop, a pizzeria, a real estate office, and a bank at the far end. She faced him again. “Okay… Why?”
“Well”—he gestured toward a bright yellow sign low in the corner of the window—“apparently Helen is planning on retiring.”
The yellow sign read Business for Sale in vibrant pink lettering with more hand-drawn flowers. The phone number beneath matched the one in the window of the real estate office a couple of doors down.