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Authors: Tracey V. Bateman

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BOOK: Suspicion of Guilt
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Rissa let out a giggle. “And it would serve you right.”

Reece couldn’t resist a grin. He had to admit, the drawl was growing on him more each time Rissa turned her friendly smile in his direction.

“So, it’s settled then?”

“Whatever.” Shelley pushed up from the couch and followed Leigh’s example, stomping from the room.

“We accept your offer,” Denni said. “Thank you. But we can pay for supplies. You and your friends providing the manpower is more than generous.”

Reece wasn’t going to argue with her about it. But he had no intention of ever letting her see a bill for materials.

Only one question remained. How was he going to break the news to the guys?

Chapter Six

“R
emind me why I’m up at seven in the morning on my first day off in two weeks.” Joe’s gravelly voice spoke of a guy who had just not-so-willingly crawled out of bed. He slammed the door of Reece’s truck and belted himself in.

Reece tossed him a thermos of coffee, shifted into Drive and navigated the Avalanche away from the curb, heading toward Denni’s street. “Because I’ve saved your carcass at least a hundred times. Besides I introduced you to Kelsey. You owe me.”

Joe’s sigh wasn’t lost on Reece. “Kelsey’s still sleeping.”

Reece could pretty well figure why Joe didn’t want to leave the warmth of his bed. At least the guy had a cute little pregnant wife to come home to at the end of the day.

“Can you two keep it down?” Sean, a rookie cop of six months, complained from the back seat. He’d been the only other sucker Reece could find to help out for the day. And if he’d had another few months of experi
ence, Reece doubted he’d have been game. But lucky for Reece, the kid was still in that eager-to-please phase of his career.

Joe filled a disposable cup with the coffee and tossed the thermos back to Sean. “Here, this garbage Reece calls coffee is thick enough to wake you up and put hair on your chest.”

Sean mumbled his thanks and turned back to Reece. “So what is it with this woman that you’re giving up all your free time—and ours—to help her out? Is cracking this case really that important to you? Or is it the girl?”

Reece could feel his partner’s eyes upon him, those scrutinizing baby blues that had forced a testimony from more than one reluctant witness in his seven years in the Rolla PD.

“Hey, maybe I’m just a nice guy.”

Joe chortled. “Since when?”

A black figure darted out in front of the truck, breaking off all conversation.

Reece jumped on the brake and the Avalanche came to a screeching halt.

“What the…” Joe sputtered as hot coffee spilled down his front.

“Buffy!”

Reece recognized the name of the Doberman and slammed the gear shift into Park right in the middle of the street. He got out and strode toward the old lady. The woman trembled, her face red and her lips pushed out in indignation. “You almost killed my dog! Are you all right, my little sweet ’ums?” The dog had initially cowered in front of the truck as though realizing its mortality. But now, secure in the presence of her mistress,
Buffy bared her teeth and growled as Reece and the other two guys approached.

“Why is Buffy running around without a leash?” He fixed the woman with a stern, albeit respectful tone.

“I was just coming to get her with this.” The old lady shook a pink leash at him.

“I thought I told you last time we met that she has to be restrained at all times.”

The woman gaped. “Even when she’s just going out to do her business?”

“Yes, ma’am. At all times.”

“I put her out the back door and she keeps getting over her fence. I don’t see what I’m supposed to do about that.”

“That’s for you to figure out, ma’am. It’s against the law and punishable by a fine for Buffy to roam free.”

She pulled herself to her full height, which couldn’t have been more than four-nine. “I don’t believe you’re really a police officer. I’ve never seen you in a police car or uniform. What are you trying to pull?”

Reece rolled his eyes and showed her his badge…for the second time.

She sniffed. “Anyone can get one of those fake things. I saw it on
America’s Most Wanted
.”

Sean’s low whistle prevented a reply as Leigh Sommers jogged toward them.

“Hey, Corrigan. Harassing the local elderly, now? Watch it, Mrs. James. The detective’s a real crackerjack. Better not be hiding anything.”

“You just watch yourself, missy, and don’t worry about me,” the woman shot back. “I can take care of myself.”

As she passed, Leigh gave the old lady a salute. “You
got it. See you in a few, Corrigan. If you can find your way out of the middle of the street.”

Reece scowled after her, then wheeled back around at the sound of Mrs. James’s outraged voice.

“I’m calling the police and checking on your credentials. For all I know you’re a drug dealer. Or a pimp!”

Joe and Sean let out simultaneous hoots of laughter.

“That’s enough, guys,” Reece muttered, before turning his attention back to the elderly woman. “Mrs. James, was it?”

“I’m not telling you a thing until I verify your identity.”

With a sigh, he pulled a notepad from his pocket and jotted down his name and badge number. “Here, this should make it easier for you.”

She harrumphed and tugged on the Doberman’s leash. “Come along, Buffy.”

The dog gave one more warning growl and followed her mistress.

A horn blared and Reece turned to find a line of four cars behind his truck. With a groan, he called out to the guys, “Go on up to the house.” He pointed to Mahoney House. “I’ll be there in a sec.”

A minute later, he turned into the driveway and parked. He sat alone in the truck, staring at his partners seated on the step. This day wasn’t starting off very well. Maybe he should just cut his losses and leave Denni Mahoney to her own devices. So he failed to crack one case in dozens. What would that matter in the grand scheme of things?

The door opened and Denni stepped out. She gave Sean and Joe a shy smile and offered her hand.

Who was he kidding? He was in this for the long haul. As long as Denni needed him—even if she didn’t think she did—he’d be there to look out for her.

 

Denni took mental inventory of her looks. She was going for that understated look that says, “I have class, but I’m not a girlie-girl afraid of a little hard outdoorsy work.”

Dressed in a comfortable pair of jeans, a light-blue pullover shirt with three buttons at the collar, and a pair of running shoes, she felt as though she’d accomplished her objective. A hint of mascara, powder and just a touch of lip gloss finished the look.

Fifty-percent humidity caused her hair to spring a bit at the temples, but Denni had never hated her curly hair the way her sister Keri hated hers. It was anyone’s guess why the two of them had turned out with varying shades of red curls, while their older sister, Raven had hair as black as—well—a raven. And not even a hint of wave, let alone curls.

The sight of Reece striding up her lawn carrying a toolbox brought a smile to Denni’s lips.

“Morning.” He flashed her a smile.

She returned the infectious smile. “Thank you for coming. I hope you haven’t had breakfast. I baked cinnamon rolls for you and your—um—crew.”

His face reddened. “Three capable men are better than a dozen guys who don’t know squat about what they’re doing.”

“So where’s the other nine?” Leigh’s voice shot over Denni’s shoulder from behind. Denni moved aside and let the girl step out onto the porch. She smelled of floral soap and shampoo. Denni had never known her to shower and get downstairs so quickly after her morning run. Had she developed a sudden crush on Reece? Denni frowned.

The younger of Reece’s companions chuckled. “I
think we’ve just been insulted.” He shot Leigh an appreciative glance and a smile that Denni had a feeling was more than casual. No wonder Leigh had hurried. Relief flooded her. And she fought the urge to burst out laughing at the absurdity of her momentary suspicion.

Sean gave Leigh a lazy grin. She had definitely caught his attention. “You planning to stick around and give us a hand?”

“Ha! Me? I don’t think I could bear to be in the same environment as all that blatant masculinity,” she shot back, her pierced nose high in the air.

“I dare ya.”

Denni smiled, then clenched her lips together as Leigh glared at her. Oh, this guy definitely had Leigh’s number. Denni caught Reece staring at her. His brow was furrowed in a frown that clearly told her to call Leigh off.

Whether or not Leigh caught Reece’s scowl and decided to do it just to bug him, or whether she did it because she honestly liked Sean—and who wouldn’t?—Denni wasn’t sure, but the next words from the girl were, “You’re on. But I gotta warn you. I did Habitat for Humanity three years in a row. I can hold my own with a hammer.”

She’d helped build homes for the poor? Denni had had no idea.

“Then let’s get to work,” Joe said, obviously adept at breaking tension where Reece was concerned. And Denni had a feeling that that was often.

“Hey, I thought the lady mentioned something about homemade cinnamon rolls.” Sean’s good-natured reminder spurred Denni to action.

“That’s right. Never let it be said I sent a group of workers out on empty stomachs.”

Reece grasped her elbow and pulled her back while the others made their way to the kitchen.

“Hey, that kid has the potential to be a great cop. I don’t want Leigh ruining him.”

Maternal indignation shot through Denni. “And Leigh has the potential to be a fantastic physical therapist. Maybe I don’t want her getting distracted by some over-testosteroned cop-jock. What are you going to do about that?”

His brows shot up. “Over-testosteroned?” He nodded, his eyes crinkling in amusement. “I guess I’ll have to give you that one. They can hold their own with each other.”

“Then we’re staying out of it?”

“I will, if you will.”

“Deal. Wait until you taste one of my cinnamon rolls. You won’t be thinking about anything else but how they melt in your mouth.”

“I can’t wait,” he murmured, his tone suddenly husky. Just because she’d mentioned cinnamon rolls? Maybe the way to a man’s heart really was through his stomach.

“It’s the least I can do.” Denni’s voice sounded hoarse. “After all, you are getting me out of a major bind.”

“Tell me about the old woman next door.”

His capacity to shift gears so quickly left Denni a little off-guard. With a sister and a dad who were cops, she knew it was a professional tactic, but it was unsettling nonetheless. Still, after a few months of knowing Reece, she was beginning to go with the quick turns and not let the sudden changes of conversation throw her.

“Mrs. James? What about her?”

“She seems pretty determined that the girls are up to no good.”

“You’ve been talking to my neighbors about the girls?”

Anger started to build. Just when she was beginning to ease into a comfortable camaraderie with him. “Why would you do that?”

“I’m investigating a crime. I’ve questioned
all
of your neighbors at one time or the other.”

“I see. And as soon as you discovered Mrs. James was home you pounced on her?”

“Actually, her dog almost attacked me. But that’s beside the point. Where has she been?”

“She’s spent the last two winters in Florida with her daughter and son-in-law.”

“Is there a Mr. James?”

“No. He passed on three years ago. I think that’s the real reason Mrs. James leaves for all those months. She can’t bear the loneliness. Her only other companionship is from a fifty-year-old daughter who is mentally ill.”

“A daughter?”

Denni nodded. “Sarah. She doesn’t venture out much and when she does, she doesn’t speak. The loneliness is part of the reason Mrs. James got Buffy. That dog means everything to her.”

“You got that right. I thought the old lady was going to take a stick to me for daring to defend myself against that monster.” His chuckle brought a smile to Denni’s lips.

“She really isn’t so bad. She just can’t believe that foster girls aren’t necessarily juvenile delinquents.”

“So she told me. In no uncertain terms.”

“Well, she happens to be my next project, after I get my funding squared away.”

He peered closer. “Mrs. James is a project?”

“She’s so lonely. I know that’s why she seems so mean.”

“You think you can fix her?”

Ironic that he should use the word
fix.

“People are so broken, Reece.” Her voice choked. “I wish I could fix them all. But I can’t.”

He took her hand, almost as though trying to comfort her. Did he hear how her heart cried out for the hurting people of the world? People like Mrs. James. People like her girls, who had been rejected and in some cases abused? People like him…

“Then why do you try so hard?” he asked, his eyes piercing hers, searching for truth.

She covered their joined hands with her other one. “Because I know someone who can heal anyone. No matter how broken. He was broken first, so that I could be healed and whole. And not just me, but you, too. And Mrs. James and anyone who will call on His name.”

For a second, Reece’s face softened; his eyes seemed to accept what she was saying. Then, as quickly as the acceptance appeared, rejection followed, and hard lines appeared on his face. In one motion, they released each other.

“I’m not into religion, Denni. I know better.”

“Oh, Reece. I’m not talking about religion. I’m talking about a man. Like you.”

“Baby, don’t flatter me. I’m no one’s savior.”

“I didn’t mean you were a savior. I meant that He too was rejected by those He loved. He knows how you feel.”

Reece sucked in a sharp breath. “What are you talking about?”

Denni stepped back in alarm. “I—I…nothing. Just…in the basement that night. When I asked you about family, you said ‘which one.’ I just assumed that you had grown up in foster care. Or at the very least that you’d been passed around among members of your own family.”

“It’s that obvious?” He seemed horrified by the thought of anyone knowing.

“Only to a social worker, probably.”

“All right. So you know I don’t have family and I was raised a ward of the state. That little tidbit of information goes no farther than this room. Understood? I can’t have the girls thinking they can play on my emotional scars.”

“They wouldn’t…”

He fixed her with a hard look. “Understood?”

Hurt wound like a chain around her heart. Would he ever lower his guard? She nodded. “Understood.”

Turning her back, she walked toward the kitchen, sensing his eyes upon her. The more she got to know him, the more she realized Reece Corrigan was a complex man, very capable of breaking her fragile heart. But that knowledge didn’t stop her from offering it to him over and over on a silver platter. Would he ever see her as someone to cherish? And more importantly, would he ever give God another chance?

BOOK: Suspicion of Guilt
2.45Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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