Riverbend Road (24 page)

“Samantha Fremont,” she said, putting her best drunken giggle into her voice. “I've got pickles.”

“Yeah. I see that.”

“What's your name?” she asked, injecting a little flirtatious note, even though it made her want to vomit.

He looked mildly amused. “Rob. Andrea and I go way back. Isn't that right?”

Andie looked as if she might fall over with a puff of air but she nodded stiffly.

“That's great. So great. Old friends are the
best
.” Wyn giggled a little more and ended on a slight belch. For the first time in her life, she was grateful for three brothers who taught her to burp on command from the time she was in preschool.

“Sorry. I think I
might
have had a few too many margaritas tonight. That was some shower.”

She gestured blindly behind her. “I'll just, you know, leave the pickles and let you two catch up.”

“Wh-what?” Andie turned, her eyes huge.

She tried to send a message to her friend, to assure her she wasn't abandoning her.

“Yeah. I've got an old friend too. He lives just across the street. He's sooo cute. Think I'll drop in and say hi,” she said with what she hoped looked like inebriated infatuation. “I'll see you soon.”

She gave Andie a hug. “Get Will out of here,” she whispered. “Whatever you have to do.”

She caught a quick flash of understanding and gratitude in Andie's eyes and hoped that Warren didn't see it.

“Nice to meet you, Robby,” she lied with another boozy giggle, then let herself out the door.

She wasted precious seconds fumbling to unhook Pete's leash. At least that fit with the role she was playing. Just in case Warren was watching from the living room window, she forced herself to walk slowly and a little wobbly across the street, as if she had nothing better to do than drop in on a cute neighbor at ten on a Thursday night.

She could only pray that Cade was home and that he would help her keep Andrea and her children safe.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

I'
M
IN
LOVE
with you.

Wynona's words rolled around his head in an endless refrain.

He had tried to shove his emotions aside as he went through the final police-department plans for Lake Haven Days, due to start the next evening and into the weekend, but now that he was home, he couldn't seem to stop thinking about that scene at her house and the one earlier in his office.

She thought she was in love with him but he instinctively wanted to tell her she couldn't be, that she was too smart to make that kind of mistake.

At heart, he still felt like one of the outlaw Emmetts, which he knew was a completely ridiculous reaction after all his years of public service, but it was hard to shake something imprinted on him when he was a kid.

His family was still a mess. His mom had died of liver failure, his dad had died in jail, and his brother wasn't speaking to him, as he waited in jail on a DUI charge.

He wasn't his family, though. Hadn't he been fighting to prove that since John Bailey took him under his considerable wing? Through his teenage years and his adulthood, he had done his best to show he wasn't defined by DNA, by his family's criminal tendencies, his father's disregard and contempt for the law.

He had been a damn good police chief since John Bailey had been shot. He worked hard and he cared about his community, which he hoped was evident in the performance of his department.

Yeah, he might be an Emmett, but it was only a name. How ironic, that the one person he was having trouble convincing after all this time was himself.

Wynona Bailey loved him. He didn't know how or why but it seemed a miracle, somehow, an amazing, precious gift that he had decided he would be an idiot to turn away.

While he didn't want her to leave the department and would miss her terribly, that was yet one more obstacle between them that had been removed. A month from now, she wouldn't be working for him. If they could hold off for that month before slipping into a full-fledged relationship, he would be over that sticky conflict.

He loved her. He meant what he said to her. She was the strongest person he knew. She was brave and smart, funny and compassionate.

How could he
not
love her?

He laughed a little for the first time all evening, wishing he dared go to her house right now. He had told her they would talk. After they did, he would have to do his best to stay away from her for another month, to keep things light and casual until she actually resigned from his department.

He wouldn't sneak around with her. Those things never ended well.

It would be the hardest thing he ever did, though.

What he needed right now was a good swim in the bracing waters of Lake Haven but he decided a cool shower would have to do. He had just turned on the water and taken off his shirt when he heard a frantic banging on the door. Three knocks then two more then three more, interspersed with his doorbell.

He didn't stop to think, he just rushed to the front door, picking up his sidearm as he went.

He forgot he'd left his shirt in the other room until he yanked the door open and found Wyn on the other side wearing one of her pretty, feminine sundresses and holding tightly to Pete's leash with a wild look in her eyes.

She rushed inside and let go of the dog. “I need your clutch piece now! Where is it?”

She looked around frantically, as if she expected him to leave his backup gun lying on a side table.

“Why?”

“My weapon's at home and I don't have time to get it. I need that Glock 27 you keep in your boot. You've got mags for it here, don't you?”

“Of course.”

“Where is it? I need it. Grab yours too. And a shirt.”

He had seen her in tight situations before but he'd never seen that tight, frightened look on her face. Something was very, very wrong. Ice crackled through his veins.

“Wyn, slow down. Tell me what the hell is going on.”

She was close to hyperventilating but she drew in a deep breath and then another, fighting for control. After the second breath, the raw wildness in her eyes clicked down to panicked urgency.

“We don't have time to chat. The bastard cop who raped Andie is sitting in her living room right now.”

“What?”

“Rob Warren. The one we had Judge Jenkins sign a restraining order against today. I'm guessing he didn't take kindly to being served because right now he's in her living room holding her sleeping son with a SIG Sauer P226 on the table next to him. I need to go back there but I can't take him on by myself, unarmed.”

He had time for only an instant of fierce gratitude that she hadn't tried before he grabbed the nearest shirt he could find, a T-shirt off the stack of clean laundry on his kitchen table he hadn't yet had time to put away.

He opened the drawer where he kept his extra weapon and leg harness and handed it to her.

“I don't have anywhere to put a weapon in this dress and I don't want him to know I'm armed. Do you have a sweatshirt or something with a pocket I can conceal?”

He grabbed the closest one he could find out of his closet. It swamped her, made her look even more small and fragile. He suddenly wished he had a closet full of Kevlar too.

“I'm calling for backup. Jess and Cody are on.”

She nodded. “Fine, but have them come in dark. We need the element of surprise on our side.”

He made the call before they left the house, explaining to his officers that he didn't know the situation inside the house yet and ordering them to stand by at the end of Riverbend Road.

“Stay here, Pete. I'll be right back.” She patted her dog, who whined a little but settled onto the rug by the door.

As Wyn opened the door Cade looked out carefully. Across the street, he could see only thin slats of light on the edges of the tightly closed blinds. No shapes or movement made it through. He wanted to beg her to stay at his house and let him handle the situation but he knew that wouldn't be fair or right. She was a trained officer and he trusted her to know how to handle herself.

“What's the play?” he asked. “How do you want to get inside?”

She tucked her arm through his and headed across the street. An interesting approach, but he wasn't about to argue when every instinct warned him to tuck her against him and keep her safe.

“I didn't want him to know I was the officer he spoke with earlier in the week. He thinks I'm Samantha Fremont and I'm drunk from the bridal shower. Let's use that.”

“Fine,” he said. Before they reached the steps, he stopped and kissed her hard.

“FYI, I love you too.”

She stared at him, her eyes huge in the moonlight. “Now? You're throwing that at me
now
?”

“I just wanted you to know. Be careful. I want the chance to show you how much.” He kissed her fiercely once more before releasing her.

She let out a ragged breath, shook her head, then squared her shoulders and turned toward the house.

How could he help but fall in love with her all over again?

Wynona was a trained police officer. She was excellent with a firearm and she could kick the ass of any one of his officers at hand-to-hand combat, himself included.

She had this.

She knocked on the door. “Andie? It's Samantha again.”

He didn't know how she did it, but Wyn somehow made her voice sound drunk, ditzy, like she was trying—and failing—to whisper.

“Andie? Open the door!”

There was no answer for a long moment and he kept watch, aware every moment of the solid weight of his service weapon at the small of his back.

“Andie? Andie? Are you in there?” She pitched her voice a little louder. “Please. It's an emergency.”

“Come in,” a voice said faintly.

Wyn's gaze met his for a brief instant, then she tried the knob. It turned easily and she pushed open the door.

The room was lit by only a small lamp beside the sofa. Cade did a rapid-fire assessment of the scene. Andie's little boy was no longer in the room, as far as he could tell. Neither of the children was there. That made things a little less complicated.

A guy roughly six feet, two hundred pounds with sandy-blond hair and a mustache sat beside Andie with his arm around her. Her eyes were red and swollen and she had the beginnings of a black eye and red mark on her cheek where it looked as if she had been backhanded.

Fury roiled through him and he wanted to grab the guy and shove his head against the wall, but Wyn had told him the man had a SIG Sauer. He couldn't see it right now but he didn't doubt it was close by.

Wyn maintained her pretense that she was a tipsy Samantha Fremont.

She wiggled her fingers in a vacuous sort of way. “Hi. Sorry to interrupt your little reunion. Hi.”

The guy assessed Cade. “Who's this?”

“This is my friend. Isn't he cute?”

She did sound a little like Samantha Fremont, the big flirt. Or how he would imagine Sam might sound if she were plastered, which he had never witnessed. Much to his relief.

Wyn looked around. “Where's that adorbs little Willie? Is he in bed? I wanted to give him a good-night kiss.”

“Yes,” Andrea said stiffly. “He's in bed.”

“Oh, too bad,” she said, though Cade knew she meant exactly the opposite.

“Do you mind?” Rob said, his voice hard. “We're kind of in the middle of something here. What's the big emergency?”

For a brief instant, Wyn flashed him a look of such naked hatred that Cade sincerely hoped the guy didn't pick up on. She hid her slip quickly behind a boozy sigh.

“I can't find my cell phone
anywhere
. Did I leave it in here when I brought all your stuff over earlier?”

“I...don't think so,” Andie said. Her hands were trembling as much as her voice, he saw.

“Are you sure? I'm positive I had it with me when we left the house.”

“It's not here,” Warren snapped. “End of story. I'm sure you'll find it at home. Good night.”

“Maybe we should try calling it,” Cade suggested.

Wyn looked at him like he was the smartest male on the planet. If she ever wanted a job with the Haven Point community-theater troupe, he could highly recommend her. “Great idea,” she exclaimed, as if he had just invented the microwave. “Andie, where's your phone? Is it in the kitchen? Can you help me find it?”

“She's fine,” Warren growled. “Your phone is not here, lady. Give it up. We're going to have to ask you to leave now.”

“It has to be
somewhere
. Why not here? Come on. Be a pal. It will only take a minute. Come with me to get your phone, Andrea.”

That might have been a little
too
blatant or her drunk act was beginning to wear thin. Whatever the reason, Warren's gaze sharpened on Wyn and his gaze seemed to land on the suspicious-looking bulge in her hoodie pocket. Cade saw the man's hand flex at his side. Where the hell was the SIG Sauer? His own fingers curled, ready to draw.

“Wait a minute,” Warren snapped, holding Andrea's arm to keep her from getting up. “What did you say your name was again? And your friend's?”

Wynona's gaze darted to his and Cade could see she also sensed the tide was shifting.

To her credit, she tried to play it through. “Samantha Fremont. And this is my boyfriend Moose.” She hiccuped. “That's his nickname. Not his real name.”

“No,” he bit out, though he still didn't produce the weapon. “I never forget a voice. You're that bitch cop. Bailey. Not Samantha Fremont, or whatever the hell you said your name was.”

“I'm not—” she started, but Warren didn't let her finish. He obviously had the smell now, maybe because of Cade's alert stance or that bulge in Wyn's pocket.

“You're both cops. I'm guessing this is the hard-ass chief you were telling me about.”

The situation was quickly spinning out of his control and he needed to act fast. “I'm Chief Cade Emmett. Are you Detective Robert Warren?”

“Yeah. That's right.”

He pulled his service weapon at the exact same moment Wyn did, as if they'd rehearsed.

“Sir, you are in violation of a protective order. Do you have any weapons on you right now?”

The man's gaze darted among all three of them and Cade could almost see him trying to spin the situation to his advantage.

“This is all a big misunderstanding.”

“I'm sure it is,” Cade lied. The only one misunderstanding anything was Warren, who must have thought he was dealing with a couple of hayseed small-town cops. “You can explain it to us all night long if you want, down at the station. I need you to show me your weapon right now.”

Warren tried one last time, putting on a bluff, hearty smile. “You're making a big mistake, Chief, Officer. I don't know what lies you've heard from this grifter here, but we're on the same team. I'm working an extensive fraud case in Portland that crosses state lines and Andrea Packer or Montgomery or whatever name she's using is a prime suspect. I've just placed her under arrest and I need to transport her back to my jurisdiction. Right now you're interfering with a criminal investigation.”

Andie made a small, frightened sound, her gaze darting to the hallway where her children slept.

Wyn didn't give Cade a chance to reply.

“That's bull,” Wyn snapped, all trace of the ditzy drunk gone from her voice. “There's no criminal investigation, except the one we're going to be opening into your activities in the last year, especially your sexual assault against Andrea Montgomery six months ago.”

Warren looked at Andrea with pure hatred. “Sexual assault? Is that what she said?”

“It's what she testified under oath before a judge this morning. He believed her and so do I.”