Just Cause (3 page)

He glanced at his watch. “I need to punch the clock down the hall. I…uh…what’s your name?”

She hesitated, then self-consciously touched the new security badge clipped to her blouse. “Laurel Wilson.”

“Laurel. I’m Dan. If you need someone to walk out to your car with you when you finish…”

He looked reserved all of a sudden, and she found his gentle approach very attractive.

“I’d like that. I don’t think I’ll be much longer.”

“I’ll come back in about fifteen minutes and see how you’re doing.”

“Thanks.”

She watched him walk out into the hall. The uniform suited him, even if he was only a part-time rent-a-cop. His impeccable posture would fool anyone.

She turned back to the computer, mentally scolding herself for daydreaming about a man she didn’t know. Dan was being kind to a stranger. But something deeper in his gray eyes set her heart racing. Laurel hadn’t felt such pleasurable anticipation in years, and a wave of guilt washed over her. Was it possible for a twenty-eight-year-old woman to have a schoolgirl crush? Even if it were possible, the point was moot. She couldn’t start a relationship now, with her life on hold.

Then there was the name thing. With the judge’s permission, she had reverted to her maiden name. It had been impossible for her to find employment in Maine using the name Laurel Hatcher. Going back to Wilson gave her a little distance from the criminal case. That and the move to Ohio seemed to have worked, and she was now supporting herself, although in a rather spartan manner. But she still felt guilty and disloyal every time she gave her name.

Her fingers flew over the keyboard. It surprised her how much she wanted Dan to like her. Was it just because she had been so alone?

She was shrugging into her jacket when he returned.

“All set?” he asked.

“Yes.” She turned off the lights and locked the door, and they walked together toward the lobby in silence. She wondered if he felt as nervous as she did. There was no one on the front desk. The automatic door was shut off at night, and Dan opened it for her.

“Where are you parked?”

“On the upper level.”

Outside, they mounted the long flight of concrete steps that led to where her Toyota waited under a streetlight.

“So, Laurel Wilson,” Dan said as they climbed the stairs, “are you from around here?” She detected a hint of interest in his husky voice.

“No, I just moved here, and I’m still getting acquainted with the city.”

“The streets can be confusing until you get used to them,” he said.

She stopped beside the Toyota and glanced up at him, then put the key in the lock. “Thanks.”

“Anytime.” He lingered, and she hesitated to open the door. She had come to Ohio determined not to form attachments, looking for anonymity. But the solitude weighed her down, and she felt the need for a friend. She wanted to talk to someone again without being afraid. Was Dan that person?

“I guess I’ll see you next Monday, if Troy is sick,” she said.

He chuckled. “I’d rather not leave it to chance.”

She caught her breath but didn’t say anything.

“Can I call you?”

She looked out over the silent parking lot, trying to sort her feelings. She reminded herself that she ought not to get involved with a man. Dan was friendly without being pushy, and he seemed decent. She wasn’t ready to tell him about her past, yet she wanted to know more about him. What kind of friendship could they form on that basis? Better to brush him off now than to have to explain things later.

When she opened her mouth to turn him down gently, she made the mistake of looking into his intent gray eyes once more.

“How about I take your number instead?” She rummaged in her purse for a notepad, and he produced a pen. As he jotted his phone number on the paper, she wondered if she was flirting with danger by being so receptive to this handsome stranger.

But at least the ball was in her court now and she could decide whether or not to make contact with him again.

Midday on Wednesday, Dan began filling out report forms on his clipboard while his partner, Jessica Alton, drove the squad car toward the police station. But completing reports on the calls he and Jess had responded to that afternoon didn’t keep his mind off Laurel Wilson.

The last time he’d seen Laurel, he’d read attraction in her eyes, but her slight reserve intrigued him. For a moment while they stood by her car, he was sure she would politely brush him off. When at last she’d taken his phone number, he’d sensed a little apprehension. Of course, she hadn’t called him yet. If she did, he would have to show her that she could trust him.

But did he really want that? Jumping into a relationship too quickly could lead to disaster. He should practice the same caution she did. He sighed and flipped to his notes on the domestic disturbance he and Jess had helped defuse an hour ago.

Jessica glanced over at him. “You okay?”

“Yeah, just tired.”

He’d been thinking about Laurel far too much since her car was broken into ten days ago. How much did he know about her? He didn’t want his emotions to run away with him. Been there, done that. He didn’t want to do it again. Mentally he made a list of crucial things he had to know about Laurel before he let himself care too much.

Laurel closed her trunk and carried her bag of groceries toward her ground-floor apartment. The overcast sky had an amber haze. The apartment buildings crowded so closely together she couldn’t tell where the sun was hiding.

She shivered and looked around for movement that didn’t belong in the peaceful scene.
I’ve got to quit being so jumpy
.

Her thoughts slid to Dan. She wanted to call him, but had held off. In her worst moments, she knew it was foolish to get close to anyone now. Yet she felt a flicker of hope when she thought of him. She stepped toward her apartment door and froze. It was open slightly, just off the latch.

The pulse in her throat raced, and she made herself take a deep, shaky breath. After a moment she reached out with one finger and pushed the door gently, another three inches. She listened, but heard nothing. Leaning to one side, she stared through the gap, but could see nothing beyond the bare, off-white wall of the entry.

Lord, I can’t do this again
.

Resolved that she must, she pushed the door wider and took one step then another into the entry. Through the doorway ahead, she glimpsed books, papers and an afghan strewn across the living room carpet. She stopped and closed her eyes for a moment. Her chest hurt. Images of the old house in Maine swam across her mind. The blood. The pistol. Bob’s still form.

Panic rose in her. She ran for the door. The grocery sack fell from her hands as she exited. She leaped down the steps toward her car.

A
man came out of the unit across the drive from Laurel’s, and she hesitated only a second. He was neatly dressed, in khakis and a plaid sports shirt. His curly dark hair had a sprinkling of gray, and he was talking on a cell phone. He looked up in surprise as Laurel dashed toward him.

“Please call the police,” she gasped.

“Hold on.” He lowered the phone. “Can I help you?”

“Yes! Call the police, please. Someone’s broken into my apartment.”

“And you are?”

She gulped. “I’m in 357. Just call them.
Please
.”

He looked across the driveway, then back at her, appraising her as he brought the cell phone back to his ear.

Laurel winced. He was no doubt cataloging her wild eyes and hysterical demeanor.

“I’ll call you back,” he told his listener, then broke the connection, pressed a button and spoke into the phone again. “Yes, my name’s Richard Hamilton, in Sherwood Apartments. One of my neighbors has had a break-in. Could you send someone out?”

“Thank you,” Laurel said.

He nodded and stayed on the line, giving the address. She went to stand by her car, staring at her open front door. The terror had receded now that help was on the way. She was sure the burglar was gone.

He picked the wrong place to ransack,
she told herself. Everything of value she owned had been stripped from her long ago.

She heard footsteps behind her and whirled, her adrenaline surging. Hamilton was crossing the driveway.

“I was just on my way out,” he said. “The police will be right here. Would you like me to stay until they arrive?”

“I…I should be all right.”

He nodded, and his concern calmed her a little. It was nice to know there were people in the complex who would help a neighbor in distress.

“Should I call the superintendent?”

She glanced back toward her building. “I don’t know yet. I haven’t been inside. The door was open, and—” She looked away. Kind neighbors would evaporate as soon as they learned her history. “Thank you. I’ll be all right.”

“I didn’t get your name.”

Laurel felt her lower lip tremble and she bit it, hating to give out her maiden name. He was staring at her. Surely he didn’t recognize her face? How much publicity had her case received outside New England?

A patrol car turned in at the entrance to the apartment complex, and she felt light-headed with relief. “They’re here.” She managed a smile. “I appreciate your help.”

He opened his mouth as though he would say more, but Laurel stepped away from him, waiting for the police car to draw up beside her sedan. Two officers got out and turned toward her.

“Laurel!”

“Dan?” She stared at him, stunned.

“We got a call for a burglary.”

“That was me.”

“Again?”

She winced.

“Sorry.” Dan walked toward her. “Tell me what happened.”

“Dan, I had no idea—” She broke off, eyeing his uniform with the city patches, badge and pistol. Alarm bells clanged inside her, even though it looked good on him. She’d been stupid to encourage his interest in her. A cop was the last thing she wanted in her personal life.

“I was going to tell you. Can we talk later?”

She nodded. “That’s my apartment. I came home from the store, and the door was open.”

A female officer rounded the car. “I’ll go check on things inside.”

“Laurel, would you like to sit in the cruiser while you wait?” Dan asked.

“Do I have to?”

“No. You could sit in your own car. It may be a few minutes.”

She nodded and got into her Toyota without looking at him. Nausea engulfed her and she willed her heart to slow down.

Dan stepped carefully over the apples and canned soup that had rolled out of her bag on the steps and went inside. After ten long minutes, the second officer came out and approached her car.

“I’m Officer Alton. We’ve determined that there’s no one inside, ma’am. You can come in, but please don’t touch anything.”

Some of the neighbors watched from their windows. Laurel kept her head down as she followed the police officer inside.

A dull ache spread through her body as she stood just inside the living room surveying the mess. Shock was beyond her. Shock was what she had felt two years ago when she came blithely home from a shopping trip and found her world shattered. Now, a resigned defeat crept over her.

Dan stood close behind her. “I know this is stressful. Take your time, and just try to tell us if anything is missing.”

She took a half step away from him. “I don’t know where to start.”

The carton of books she had yet to unpack lay in a jumble on the rug. Her art supplies were strewn among them, and the cushions had been tossed away from the sagging couch. Cyan acrylic paint oozed from its tube onto her favorite afghan and the gold carpet, where it seemed someone had stepped on it. Through the bedroom door, she could see clothing and bedding heaped on the floor.

“Did you have any valuables?” Officer Alton asked. “Jewelry, cash, credit cards, artwork?”

Laurel shook her head.

“Electronics?”

“My computer.” She stepped quickly to the rickety desk that held her computer setup. It was the first thing she had unpacked after making her bed.

“Is it damaged? Any peripherals missing?”

“No. All I had was the printer and—” She stopped, looking at the empty plastic box. The software disks were scattered on the desktop, and a few lay on the floor.

“At least they didn’t break them,” Alton said.

Laurel saw one disk peeking from under the pile of spilled books.

“You think kids did this?” she asked.

“We don’t know yet.”

Dan stepped closer to her. “How long were you away?”

“Maybe an hour. I just needed a few things at the store.”

He nodded. “Did you have a television and DVD player here? We didn’t find those.”

“No.”

“CD player? Radio?”

She shook her head. She hadn’t had the money to buy more than the basic necessities. The apartment came furnished with the castoff sofa and desk, a wobbly single bed and a chipboard dresser. Decent furniture and an entertainment system were distant goals that were of little importance to Laurel.

“How about in the kitchen? Microwave?”

“I don’t have one. I just moved here, and I didn’t bring much.”

Dan’s eyes were thoughtful as he wrote in his small notebook. “So as far as you can tell, nothing was taken?”

She hesitated. “I can’t really say yet, but I didn’t have anything of value to anyone else.”

“No weapons?”

She turned and stared at him.
He knows,
she thought.
He ran my name through a national database, and he knows I’m not allowed to own a gun
.

“Sorry. We have to ask.”

“Nothing like that.”

Dan nodded. “All right. I’m going to call for technicians to check for fingerprints around your bedroom window.”

She exhaled carefully. “They came in from there?”

“Looks like it. Cut the screen in the bedroom and left through the front door. You said it was open. We’ll question the neighbors in case somebody saw something.”

He went out and Officer Alton said, “If you discover later that something is missing, let us know.” She took a business card from her shirt pocket and held it out. “That’s the dispatcher’s nonemergency number at the police station. Just ask for me or Officer Ryan by name and they’ll contact us.”

“Thank you.”

“Is there someplace you can go for now?”

“I thought I’d clean up.”

“Let the techs finish before you move anything. They may want to dust those computer disks and some of the other things.”

“How long will it take?”

“Could be an hour or two. You might want to go out and get lunch.” The officer looked around, and Laurel noted the stark room and her meager belongings.

The thought of leaving her possessions exposed like this repelled her. At least one person had already handled them. Now a team of professionals would come in and sift through them. She didn’t want to leave, but she didn’t want to watch, either. When they were done, she wouldn’t waste a moment in setting things to rights.

Dan saw Laurel leave the apartment and met her on the walkway. Her shiny hair fluttered in the breeze, and her troubled brown eyes radiated hurt. Of course, she was a crime victim, but something else seemed to be bothering her. He sensed it had something to do with him.

“I should have told you I’m a police officer,” he said.

She shrugged and looked away.

“Sometimes people are intimidated when they find out I’m a cop. I wanted to get to know you without that being a factor. I would have told you soon.” He tried to smile. “I ran some data just now and learned a lot about you.”

Laurel caught her breath and stepped back. “Such as?”

Dan watched her in surprise. “Such as, you’ve never had a traffic violation in the state, but you’ve only held an Ohio license for three weeks.”

“That’s true.”

“So, it leads to other questions.”

She pressed her lips together, and Dan’s training kicked in. He had a sudden conviction that she was afraid. Not afraid of burglars, but of him.

“Laurel, I thought the car burglary at the hospital last week was a random thing, but now your new apartment is broken into. Nothing was taken either time. That’s very odd.”

She wouldn’t meet his gaze. “I don’t have anything valuable.”

“Apparently someone thinks you do.”

Her mouth went hard, and she said nothing. Dan considered pressing the issue. He was walking a fine line between helping a woman he was beginning to care about and rooting out the truth. He didn’t want to break her trust, to drive her away, but he couldn’t let that cloud his judgment as a police officer. What did he really know about her, after all? Next to nothing, and that was her choice.

He decided to take a softer tack. “You said you’d call me. How about if we get together instead? I’m off duty at five. We could grab a bite to eat and talk.”

“I don’t think that would work.” She wouldn’t meet his eyes.

She was shutting down on him.

“Please?”

She shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

“I’m sorry.” He knew she was right. He shouldn’t socialize with the victim in a case he was investigating. Maybe he should have Jessica take over Laurel’s case and remove himself from it.

“If I weren’t the investigating officer, would that make a difference?” he asked softly.

She looked him in the eye. He waited, sensing her mental deliberation. Had he been too official, too abrasive or just too neutral? Had the uniform and the computer check built a fence between them?

“I…do want to see you again. I’m just…a little overwhelmed right now.”

“Okay.” Dan took a deep breath. All was not lost. “How about if I just call you, then? I’ll use the number you listed in the police report.”

She nodded. “Make it tomorrow. That will give me a chance to think about things.”

Her restless eyes avoided him. There was apparently some sort of struggle still going on beneath the surface. “Okay. I need to help Jessica. If you think you’ll be all right—”

“I’ll take Officer Alton’s advice and go out for lunch.”

“Sure.” He smiled at her, and her wistful return smile made his stomach lurch. “Be careful.”

Trepidation filled her eyes. “You don’t think someone would follow me?”

He wished he’d said nothing. “No. They haven’t attacked you, just your property. But…stay alert.”

“Will you be here when I come back?”

“Probably not. But I’ll let you know later if we find out anything.”

She nodded.

“I’ll talk to you tomorrow, then.” He opened the door of her car for her, and she backed out of her spot. He watched until she turned onto the main road.

Laurel was an enigma and, for some compelling reason, she stirred his protective instincts. He wanted to take her in his arms and assure her that everything would be all right. She had an air of vulnerability about her, yet she always stayed on guard. He aimed to find out why.

Laurel bought a sandwich at the drive-through window of a fast food restaurant and then sat in the parking lot with her car doors locked. Someone who wanted to hurt her might be watching her this very minute, and she wouldn’t take a chance by getting out of the car. She sank lower in the seat as she opened the paper bag.

Dan was a cop. She should end it now, tell him she didn’t think they should pursue a personal relationship. And why hadn’t he learned about her legal status when he did the computer check on her? Maybe the Ohio State Police hadn’t entered the data in their computer network yet. She had checked in with them in Columbus when she first arrived, but apparently Dan had turned up nothing but her new driver’s license. Maybe using her maiden name had thrown him off track, as she’d hoped it would nosy strangers.