Broken Promises (10 page)

“You have a key, right?” he asked. “Spitz
made me hand over the spare one.”

She sniffed and wiped the rain from her face.
“Yes. I always keep an extra key ’cause I’m always losing them. Can
we get a move on before I drown?”

“I’ll give you a boost over the fence.” He
bent down and laced his fingers together. She set her booted foot
in his hands and grabbed for the top of the fence as he lifted her.
Her leg went over. Voila, she was out of sight. A soft thump. No
cries of pain. Good.

He clambered over and dropped to the soggy
grass beside her. “Let’s do it.” Together they raced for the back
entrance. “Alarm?” he asked.

“Nah.” She unlocked the door, and they were
inside.

At least something was going their way
tonight.

“Master bedroom’s on the second floor along
the back,” Jersey said and tiptoed along the back hallway. She
could pussyfoot around if she wanted, but he aimed to get in and
get out. He pushed by her and bounded up the back stairs. The
master bedroom was easy enough to find. The local LEOs had trashed
it. Whatever it looked like before, he’d seen worse, but that was
the result of a tornado—not law enforcement.

Jersey came up behind him and gestured toward
one of the closets. “That’s hers on the left. I helped with the
laundry sometimes.” She rubbed her upper arms and shivered.

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me.
I’m sure Jackie considered you part of the family.”

“Just saying. I didn’t want you to think I
made myself at home when she wasn’t around.”

“For the dog, we need something she’s
worn.”

She walked over to the closet and opened the
door. “They didn’t leave much. If I remember correctly, she wore
this blue knit top under her lab coat the day before she
disappeared.” She removed the garment from its hanger and handed it
to him to place in a plastic bag.

“Isn’t the rain going to wash away the scent
and make the search tomorrow more difficult?”

“As you’ve already noticed, I’m not much on
dog handling. Your Mr. Rigby will have a better idea about that.
What about Jackie’s shoes? Did they leave any behind?”

She flashed him a smile, crouched, and
started pawing through the closet. “For work, she has two pairs of
comfortable shoes, just alike. Wears ’em on alternate days.” Two
pairs of boots came flying over her shoulder, then a jubilant,
“Yes! Here’s the other pair.”

“Okay.” He added the shoes to the bag, then
stretched the kinks from his shoulders. “We’re set, then. Let’s get
the hell out of here.”

“I’m right behind you.”

“And I’m right behind you. Hands up,” a
no-nonsense voice ordered. Alex clenched his jaw and turned around.
“How nice of you to drop by, Detective.”

“Can’t say I’m surprised to see you skulking
around. Good thing the neighbors are vigilant and called to report
intruders.” The detective stroked his bushy mustache, satisfaction
written over his full face.

Alex nodded, tried to keep the sarcasm from
his tone, and failed. “Yes, always pays to have nosy neighbors.
Small towns are like that.”

“From your behavior, I’m guessing the Federal
Bureau of Investigation has different rules from other agencies.
Around here, obstruction of justice and interfering in a crime
scene are serious matters.”

“Quit busting my chops, Detective. We’re just
here to pick up a couple of things for the bloodhound to
follow.”

“Bloodhound? You’re thinking to follow her
trail after the rain and twenty-four hours have passed?”

“Hope lives eternal,” Alex said wryly.
“You’ve kept me completely out of the loop regarding evidence and
the progress of the case. If you’d been more cooperative, we
wouldn’t be having this conversation, would we?”

“I’ve a mind to arrest you for trespassing.
You
and
this young lady.” He cocked a brow in Bette’s
direction.

“She’s not trespassing.” Alex clenched his
fists, basically to keep from popping Spitz one. “She lives here.
Has a key.”

Spitz puffed out his chest. “You know better
than to cross crime scene tape.”

Alex smiled. “None on the door we used to
come inside.”

“Yeah? If you thought you had every right
here, why the black ops clothes and climbing over the back
fence?”

Bette shrugged off her hoodie and fluffed her
wet hair, which was starting to curl around her face. “Now,
Detective. Surely you can’t blame us for doing what we can to find
Jackie. Like you told Agent MacGregor earlier, you have a small
police department, and you’re not equipped for this kind of
emergency.” She continued, batting her long lashes at the LEO,
“Most places would’ve already called in the search dogs before it
rained and called for an Amber Alert. Is there some reason one
hasn’t been issued? Whether it’s his mother or not who took him, he
could be in danger. I know Nancy Grace would love to help with
getting the word out about Cody. Real good at that, she is.”
Smiling, she fluffed her hair again and fluttered her lashes at the
detective, who started stuttering.

“Well—uh, I—uh—”

Son of a gun. Wasn’t she something? In a
matter of seconds, Jersey’d flirted and gone on the offensive, then
turned on a dime and threatened him with national media exposure.
Reduced the arrogant Spitz to a jibbering jackass.

Two could play that game. Alex took a deep
breath. “What about the Amber Alert, Detective? A missing
six-year-old child. It’s not going to look good on your record when
all’s said and done.” Okay, so an Amber Alert was called only when
there was a description of a car or license plate number, but right
now, he didn’t give a flying fuck about technicalities.

“All right!” The exasperation rolled off the
detective in waves. “The, uh, Amber Alert is in the works. Takes
time, you know. We’re releasing the house tomorrow anyway. Didn’t
find any sign she was taken from here.” Spitz turned. Stopped.
Turned back. Smirked. “Good luck with the bloodhound.”

Alex waited, giving Jersey a cautious glance.
Her eyes were wide, and she was holding her breath. A door banged.
Good. Spitz had left the building.

“Whew! I thought we were done for,” she said.
The breath she’d held came out in a ragged rush.

“First time I’ve seen you in action.” He
tried to keep the admiration from his tone but couldn’t quite pull
it off.

“Go ahead. You can say it. I was awesome.” A
slow, seductive smile pulled at her mouth. Her luscious mouth. And
that mouth weakened his knees…and his resolve. Kissing her until
next week might cure him. Or make matters worse.

“Yeah. You played him just right.” Glad of
the dim light in the room, he steadied himself against the closet
door. “I think we’ve got enough.” His moment of weakness over, he
strode by her and headed for the hallway. “Probably a fool’s errand
anyway,” he said under his breath.

“No! Don’t say that!” Bette grabbed him by
the shoulder and forced him to face her. Who knew she was so
strong? Her dark chocolate eyes shone with unshed tears, her hands
fisted at her sides as if she was ready to take a poke at him.
“We’re going to find Jackie and Cody if we have to tear up Ontario
County from Victor to Naples.”

A sense of hopelessness almost overwhelmed
him. Desperate to make her understand, he raked his fingers through
his hair. “You don’t know anything. The statistics say—”

She stomped her foot. “I don’t care about
statistics. Stop it! There’s already too much negative energy out
there.” Tears glistened and fell down her cheeks. “You have to keep
thinking positive thoughts or you’re worse than Detective Dog.
You—you’re useless!”

Without warning, she collapsed like a doll
whose stuffing leaked out, and started sobbing. Alex reached for
her hands, pulled her to her feet and into his arms. Her tears
dampened his shirt as she cried. Somehow, holding her, comforting
her, felt right, as if comforting her also comforted him. He shut
his eyes and breathed in her scent. Relished the warmth of her body
against his. His heart rate picked up. Damn, his groin tightened.
Would she notice? Maybe not.

“Hold on, I haven’t given up on finding
Jackie and Cody,” he said softly. He wiped away her tears. I guess
when I get caught up in quoting stats, I’m avoiding how I feel…how
much all this hurts.”

“Is it working?” She gazed up at him so
earnestly.

“Not so much,” he admitted. He leaned
forward, touching his forehead to hers. “Jersey, I’ve made so many
mistakes. Focused on my career as if that were the only thing of
importance. I forgot about family.”

“It’s not too late. We’ll find them.” She
peered at him quizzically. “Won’t we?” She sniffed, then said in a
shaky voice, “We’d better get back to the motel.”

A deep sense of loss washed over him as soon
as she pulled away. Managing a nod was the best he could do.
Dammit. What was it about this one woman that touched him on such a
deep level and plagued his dreams at night? Sure, she was hot, with
a body that took no prisoners. But he’d known a lot of hot bods in
his time. With Jersey, it was so much more.

Could be the air of vulnerability she hid so
carefully behind a seductive façade of smartass attitude and sultry
eyes? One minute she was distracting and threatening Detective
Spitz, then did a one eighty and cried her heart out because Alex
had a moment of weakness. Yes, she was awesome. More than awesome.
Make it five feet four inches of pure temptation…and heart.

They headed downstairs. He led the way, with
Bette following closely behind, out the back door, and found the
rain had stopped. “Thank heaven for small favors,” she said. “At
least we don’t have to sneak out.”

“Or climb the fence. Leastwise, you don’t.
I’ll bring the car around front.”

She sniffed and smiled up at him. “Thanks. My
energy level is starting to flag a bit.”

“Adrenaline crash they called it when I was
in the Rangers.”

“Like after the op or battle is over?”

“You got it.”

“See you out front.” She turned and went back
inside the house.

He ran across the squishy backyard and
vaulted over the fence. His surge of adrenaline hadn’t crashed yet.
Nowhere near. Holding Bette in his arms—now, that was a close call.
But he’d escaped with his dignity intact.

Barely.

~~*~~

By the time they returned to their motel
room, Bette was shivering. “Mind if I dry off first? I don’t think
I’ll ever get warm again.” She walked past Shadow’s crate. The
dog’s tail beat the cushion with an enthusiastic
thwap
. She
stopped for a second and released the Sheltie from her cage. The
animal promptly hopped on Bette’s bed and watched Alex sit down and
take off his shoes.

Alex said, “No problem. That’s part of the
crash too.”

“If you say so. I just think I’m wet and
losing body heat.”

He whipped off his sweatshirt and used it to
dry his dark blond hair, then pulled a dry one from his go-bag.
“I’ll head to Charlie’s and get us some dinner. Any
preferences?”

“Anything but fish.” She averted her eyes
from his bare chest, but not so quickly she missed his six-pack
abs. She stripped off the damp hoodie and started to slip out of
the black yoga pants, then realized he was watching her and not
trying to hide it. Sighing, she halted her striptease and grabbed a
pair of cut-off sweatpants and a T-shirt, then headed into the
bathroom.

She turned on the water and adjusted the
temperature until it was as hot as she could stand and not leave
her looking like a boiled lobster. The hot water and steam began to
fill the tub and seep into her muscles and finally eased the chill
in her soul. At least she could go back home in the morning. She
loved her small, cozy apartment and never realized how much until
she was forced to live out of her suitcase once again.

And being around Alex all the time… Much more
difficult than she’d thought. As far as he was concerned, she was
just an impediment to finding his sister. Unwanted baggage. One
step above her dog.

Although, for a moment back at the house, she
thought she’d felt him harden as he held her. Either she was
mistaken or it was just a natural reflex. Certainly didn’t mean
anything.

Not to him anyway.

~~*~~

How long Bette had been in the tub, she
wasn’t certain, but Shadow started barking up a storm. Was Alex
back and that was why she was kicking up a fuss? Surely not. A
chill shot up her spine.

No way. Shadow wouldn’t bark at Alex like
that. Had she locked the bathroom door? Had Alex locked the door to
their room when he left? Of course he had. He was a freaking FBI
agent, and he wouldn’t have risked leaving her alone and naked in
the bathroom with an unlocked door.

She left the water running and eased one foot
and then the other out of the tub. Checked the door. Good. She’d
locked it. Paranoia—yes, it was a good trait to possess.

Shadow’s shrill barks intensified, punctuated
by low guttural growls. Definitely not Alex. Her heart pounded loud
enough she could hear it. Her hands trembled as she grabbed a towel
and frantically dried off. As quietly as possible, she slipped into
the sweat pants, then pulled the T-shirt over her head. Her gaze
swept the small bathroom. What could she use for protection?

Cosmetics littered the small vanity. Not like
she could mousse someone to death. Or stab the intruder with an
eyebrow pencil.

Mouth dry, she tried to swallow.

Think.
She crouched and looked under
the sink. At home, there’d be cleaning products. But she wasn’t at
home. Not a damned thing, except a spare roll of tissue.

Note to self: if you live through this, go
armed in the bathtub.

Ridiculous, the thoughts that came to mind at
the most inopportune times. Like during a break-in.