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“So you really have turned them down?” She quickly added, “That’s what they said. That they kept trying and you kept dodging them.”
He crossed his heart.
“Is it the proximity? That was Nikki’s guess.”
Since proximity would also put Alice off limits, he denied it. “That might have factored in a little. But mainly they’re both drinkers and heavy partiers.”
“And you’re not?”
“When was the last time you saw me head to a party?”
“I haven’t kept track of your agenda, one way or the other.”
Bull. Alice was far too aware of everyone and everything not to have noticed him. Even without her keen powers of observation, few would miss a man of his size. Thanks to a good draw from the family gene pool, he had both height and strength.
Men and women alike made note of him. But it wasn’t until Cash that Alice had acknowledged his existence.
He turned on a burner to get the skillet hot. “I work too many hours, and when I get some downtime, I like to kick back with my friends, which usually means watching sports, fishing, that sort of thing.” He opened a drawer and found an egg turner. “And I like to hit up the gym a couple of times a week just to unwind.”
“You look—” she coughed lightly “—physically fit.”
“Thanks.” He was in prime condition, but if she wanted to understate it, he wouldn’t debate it with her.
She got out bread for toast. It was interesting how easily they moved together to prepare breakfast.
“Another strike against Pam and Nikki—they’re not dog people.” He smiled at how Alice maneuvered around Cash without complaint, giving him the occasional pat or stroke without even thinking about it.
“That matters to you?”
“The dog and I are a package deal now.” He began laying bacon in the skillet. “Love me, love my dog.”
Silence filled the air. Had the love word thrown her when likening herself to a jealous wife hadn’t? The mysteries added up. “So, Alice, while we prepare breakfast, why don’t we have that talk?”
“All right.” She took down glasses and poured orange juice. “Before we get into that, though, would you like to tell me what you found while snooping?”
He went still, unsure if she bluffed, or if—
“I know you did, Reese.”
“You assume—”
“I know.”
Giving up, he said, “You’re loaded down with weapons. Want to tell me why?”
One shoulder lifted. “Self-protection.”
“Most people cover that with one gun.”
She avoided his gaze by turning the bacon with a fork. “So, what did you find?”
“Glock in bedroom closet, Taser in nightstand—”
“You got into my nightstand?”
Interesting reaction. “Long enough to see the Taser, yes.” He studied her frown. “I also saw the baton under your bed.”
Mouth tight, she asked, “Is that it?”
No fucking way. “There’s more?”
With only the slightest hesitation, she lowered the heat under the bacon, took his hand and led him out of the kitchen and down the hall.
Reese was so astounded by her touch that he barely noticed Cash trotting along behind them. It seemed that wherever Alice went, the dog followed.
She veered into the bathroom, released him and gestured behind the toilet. Frowning, Reese leaned around her to see...a revolver strapped to the tank. It was hidden from view so that only someone who knew where to look would find it.
He started to say something, but Alice walked out, so he followed, as did Cash. She went into her office, pulled her chair out from her desk and tipped it back to show another Taser and a spare cell phone attached underneath.
“Jesus.” Reese rubbed a hand over his head. “What else?” Because somehow, he just knew there was more.
She marched back into the kitchen, opened a cabinet drawer, and one by one, set out a flashlight, another spare cell phone, a big knife, mace and finally a stun gun. “I prefer a Taser so I won’t have to get close, but the stun gun is here just in case.”
Muscles knotted, tension mounting from her dispassionate explanation and overabundance of weapons, Reese growled out, “Why?” She had a damned fortress going on, and there must be a reason.
“I don’t want to be hurt.”
In contrast to his tone, hers was soft, and a little chilling because of it. It wrecked him, imagining what might have instilled so much caution.
His worst fears were confirmed when her big dark eyes lifted to his, and she said softly, “Again.”
CHAPTER THREE
METHODICALLY, ALICE replaced each item in the drawer. She heard her own heartbeat, felt the rushing of her pulse, but outwardly, she showed nothing but calm resolve.
God, how good she’d gotten at that.
For the longest time, Reese said nothing. She wasn’t sure what to expect, how he’d react.
But when he did finally move, it was just to turn the bacon.
She closed the drawer, searching for something to say. “You seem competent in the kitchen.” He seemed competent at everything. “Would you like to do the eggs, too, or should I?”
“Why don’t you take a seat, and I’ll handle it.”
Ooookay. He sounded almost indifferent—not what she’d expected, especially from a detective. She pulled out a chair, and Cash came to lay by her feet.
“Do you have permits for the guns?”
That stalled her but only for a moment. Surely she did. “Yes.”
“That wasn’t a very confident reply.”
She repeated, more firmly, “Yes.”
“Hmm.”
“Stay, Cash. I’ll be right back.” She went into her office, checked that Reese hadn’t followed her and got out her special paperwork hidden within the register vent on the floor, held in place by heavy magnets. Inside, she found several permits. She located what she needed, put the rest back and returned to Reese. “Here you go.”
“If I check those, will they be legit?”
“I’m confident they will be.”
He shook his head at her. “The things you say and the way you say it—”
“Yes,” she amended. “They will be.” Not even for a second should she have doubted it. Everything she had, every resource, and yes, every weapon, would bear up under close scrutiny.
The bacon smelled delicious as Reese put it on a plate and got started on the eggs. “How many do you want?”
“One, please.” Watching him work, she appreciated the view: Reese shirtless, his shoulders flexing as he cracked eggs, his big bare feet planted apart on her linoleum floor. She could so easily get used to the sight of him in her kitchen. “Most women would want to cook for you.”
“Maybe.” He lifted his coffee cup for another drink, then glanced back at her. “I appreciate it that you aren’t being so clichéd.”
No, she couldn’t be. She was so unlike most women, any comparison would be hard to find.
He continued to watch her. “Does anyone else know about your cache of weapons?”
No one that he’d ever meet. She didn’t like lying to him, but really, she had no choice. “No.”
“You took far too long to answer.”
“I’m sorry.”
Reluctantly, he turned to flip the eggs. “So, why did you tell me?”
Alice shook her head. “I’ve been sitting here wondering the same thing myself. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t repeat it to anyone else.”
“Who would I tell?”
“Your friend Detective Riske. Or Lieutenant Peterson. I’d as soon not have to answer difficult questions.”
“All right.” He set the plates on the table. “Unless it becomes necessary to tell someone else, I’ll keep your secret.” The toast popped up. Reese put a pat of butter on each piece.
“It’s not a secret as much as it’s my private, personal business.”
He handed her a napkin, touched her cheek and took his seat.
Though he ate without pressuring her, Alice knew he still waited for an answer.
“It’s strange,” she said after a bite of bacon. “But I think I trust you.”
“That’s a start.”
“I’m a good judge of character,” she said with a shrug. “You’re trustworthy.”
“You think that because I’m a cop?”
She laughed, realized how awful that sounded and covered her mouth with a hand. “No.” She shook her head. “No, being in law enforcement has nothing to do with it.”
“Unfortunately, you’re right.” Without seeming indelicate, he ate so heartily that his food quickly disappeared.
His statement made her curious. “Why do you say that?”
“All that stuff that happened—the shooting in my apartment, I mean. There are a handful of cops on the force right now that aren’t honest, good cops. The lieutenant is doing her best to clear out the corruption, but it’s not easy. One bad cop is catastrophic. You get several working together, and the entire department is compromised.”
“Your friend Logan?”
“As trustworthy as they come.”
“I thought so.” Yesterday, while she’d fretted, waiting to see if Reese would be okay, Logan Riske had pulled up with his brother and Pepper Yates. Alice had studied him for a short time, long enough to recognize in him the same attitude that Reese had.
In a leap of faith, she’d explained to Detective Riske about the intruders with Reese in his apartment.
“More of your intuition, huh?” He drank half his orange juice. “I gotta say, Alice, I’d love to know how you do it. How do you sift the good from the bad with little more than a glance?”
It grew so quiet after that, they could hear Cash snoring under the table. Alice finished off a slice of bacon, wondered where to start and decided it didn’t really matter when it all ended the same way.
“I was taken.”
Everything about Reese sharpened; his attention, his posture. His warm concern. And something more, something like rage.
Because he’s a good man, as well as a good cop, and he cares about others.
He set aside his utensils. “You were kidnapped?”
Oh, God, she hated hearing it said aloud. “And held captive.”
“When?” He leaned toward her. “For how long?”
Unwilling—even unable—to elaborate, she shook her head. “The only important detail is that I got away. And now that I’m free, I don’t take chances. That’s all I can say.”
“I need more.”
“I’m sorry, no.”
Abruptly, he sat back. “Stop apologizing, damn it!”
She smiled at his show of temper. “Honestly, Reese, I didn’t expect to ever tell anyone any of it. I don’t like to think about it. I definitely don’t want to talk about it.” Mired in confusion and conflicts, she reached a hand down to Cash and put her fingers in his fur. Contact with the dog always brought her composure. And oddly enough, exposure to Reese brought her that and other elusive emotions. Ones she’d feared she’d never again feel. That had to mean something, but what? Finding the right words wasn’t easy. “The thing is, I like you, when for the longest time I didn’t like anyone or anything, not even myself.”
