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Authors: Karen Kelley

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Jessica hurried across the green carpet with an outstretched hand. “It’s nice to know we’ll have such consid-erate neighbors. I’m sure we’ll be great friends. And what did you say your name was?”

“Georgio,” he answered, taking Jessica’s hand.

“How wonderful to know there’ll be another man around in case Conor’s at work. He owns a pawnshop and sometimes gets calls at all hours of the night. A woman can’t be too careful these days.” George bent over her fingers. Before his lips could touch her skin, she slid her hand from his and ambled to the window. George stumbled forward. Jessica turned, the light catching the gold streaks in her hair. Conor sucked in a breath, no more immune to her than George.

“Call. Anytime-a. Day or night!” George’s voice cracked.

“We haven’t even spoken with the realtor yet, so the lease isn’t final.” Conor glared at the suspect. “I’m not sure we even want the house.” He didn’t like the way the other man ogled Jessica. Like a starving rat looking at a chunk of cheese.

“I will-a be happy to . . .”

Well, the cat was home! Grabbing George’s arm, Conor slapped him on the back. “That’s real nice of you.” George coughed and sputtered as he tried to catch his breath.

How could the department not catch these guys? The man was an imbecile. Surely the other two weren’t that much brighter. There
had
to be someone else calling the TEMPERATURE’S RISING

73

shots. Telling them when and who to hit. But then, the chief had said Winston and Barry weren’t stupid. Maybe George had fallen off a truck and hit his head when he was little.

The rustle of material and the click of high heels drew his attention toward the doorway. Angie stepped into the room. Conor returned her direct gaze.

“Good morning. I see you beat me here. I thought you might. That’s why I gave your wife the key,” Angie stated.

Apparently she’d heard enough to realize the situation had changed.

“I see you are-a busy. I will-a go, but please”—George’s gaze lingered on Jessica—“feel-a free to call me if you need help-a with anything—
arrivederci
.” Snapping his heels together, George strutted from the house.

“Is that guy for real?” Angie whispered as the front door closed. “I thought I was going to have to put my sun-glasses back on. The guy damn near blinded me with all the gold he was wearing. And what’s with that suit? An Armani knockoff ?”

“About as original as his accent,” Jessica supplied.

Both women laughed. Conor frowned.

“And his shirt! Good lord, it looked like he’d walked into a paint store right before it exploded.” Jessica covered her mouth in an attempt to stifle her laughter.

“How’d the tables get turned?” Angie asked.

Jessica sputtered and coughed.

Conor felt his face heat.

“Oh-ho, so that’s the way the wind blows.” She pushed the strap of her black purse higher on her shoulder and raised an eyebrow in Conor’s direction. “And to think I put on a dress just for you. So, what do we do now?”

“I’ll just have to continue on, minus the wife.” Jessica’s eyebrows rose. “Are you planning on murder-ing me?”

The way she’d flirted with George, he could very easily kill her. Her father would never give him a promotion 74

Karen Kelley

if he bumped her off, though. “We’ll have a fight, and you can run home. It happens every day.” She moved away from the window, tapping her fingernail against her teeth. “No, George will spill the beans about the burglaries. Give me a few minutes alone with him and . . .”

“Not on your life. We’ll have a fight and you’ll leave.”

“Now, just a minute.” Hands on hips, she stepped in front of him. “I thought you wanted to catch these guys.

George responded to me.”

“He was responding to the fact you have breasts and sexy legs.”

“Hey.” Angie stepped forward. “I resent that remark.

He didn’t even look twice at me.” How in the hell had he got in the line of fire of both women? Jessica was bad enough. He walked across the room to give himself a little space to think.

After a few deep breaths, he faced them once more, his thoughts in order. “That’s not what I meant. The fact hasn’t changed that Jessica is no longer a police officer.

Catching these burglars is not worth putting a civilian’s life in danger. She can’t stay.”

“I beg your pardon.” Jessica glared at him.

“She can take care of herself,” Angie informed him in an offhand manner.

“Angie is right.” Jessica squared her shoulders and glared at him.

“You left the force because you couldn’t hack it. You damn well don’t belong here.”

“I left because I wanted to!”

“Yeah, right!”

Her lips drew to a fine line. “I don’t want to be stuck pretending to be supercop’s wife any more than you want me here. So, call it a fight or whatever. I don’t really care.

I’m out of here.” He was right—she didn’t belong in the TEMPERATURE’S RISING

75

middle of an investigation. That part of her life was over.

And she damn well didn’t want to hang around him.

“It’s not quite that easy.” Angie spoke before Jessica could take more than two steps toward the door. “The stakes have been raised.”

“What do you mean?” they both asked in unison.

“There’s been a new development. I heard about it right before I left the precinct to come over here. That’s why I was a little late. We have to nail these guys or the chief will be busted back to the streets. Or worse.” Chapter 6

Since there wasn’t any furniture, Conor led Jessica to the stairway and made her sit. She’d scared the hell out of him when her face turned pasty white.

“My father a street cop?” she mumbled. “That can’t happen. He worked hard to make chief. The disgrace will kill him. And how’s he going to keep up with the younger men?”

“What happened?” Conor turned to Angie.

“The mayor’s house was robbed this morning,” she explained. “The burglars made off with about thirty thousand dollars of his wife’s jewelry. Oh, and a tape he had in the safe. Sentimental value. Said his mother was on it.

The last video he has of her. He’s pretty upset.”

“Surely they don’t think it’s these numbskulls?” Conor asked with disbelief.

“Apparently so,” Angie continued. “Everything fits with their M.O.—grab and run, leaving a stuffed raccoon behind with a scrawled note saying the masked bandit has struck again. This time they also left behind an oil stain in the alleyway of the mayor’s house, but that’s not all.” TEMPERATURE’S RISING

77

“There’s more?” Jessica asked. “What’d they do? Drop by the judge’s house, too?”

“Almost as bad.” Angie shook her head. “The mayor was at a big fund-raiser breakfast, giving a speech about how he was working closely with law enforcement officials to catch the criminals, when he was notified about the break-in. I heard his face turned red and he blurted out:
I was robbed
? I don’t think it did a lot to boost the people’s confidence—or his contributions.”

“This is the second burglary they’ve pulled in broad daylight. They’re bound to get caught sooner or later,” Conor said.

“They almost did this time.” Angie sat beside Jessica on the step, slipped off one high heel and absently massaged her foot. “Their truck broke down. They left everything behind except the contents of the safe. The truck was stolen, but we’re checking for prints.” Jessica shook her head in denial. “Dad can’t be held responsible.”

“He already has been.” Angie looked apologetic. “The mayor’s been caught with his pants down. He wants the suspects in jail, or else.” She slipped her shoe back on.

“Dad’s doing everything humanly possible to catch these jerks. Even the mayor knows Dad has to get enough evidence to make an arrest or take the chance of losing a conviction.”

Conor noted that Jessica’s color had returned—a little too much. Her face was going beyond pink. More like red fury. He took a cautious step back when she sprang from the steps. She stomped into the living room, going directly to the window and glaring at the house next door.

“They won’t get away with this. No one is going to hurt my father. I’ll make sure of that.” She clenched and unclenched her fists.

Conor followed her into the other room, knowing she 78

Karen Kelley

had to get all the anger out of her system. He was almost certain she’d calm down any minute now.

Abruptly, Jessica whirled around, a determined set to her jaw. “We have to stop them.” Conor stilled. “There’s no
we
about it. This isn’t your fight. You stopped being a police officer when you turned in your badge and gun.”

“Being a cop isn’t a badge, it’s a state of mind. I’m not leaving.”

Damn it! Jessica was a civilian. Even if she did think she could help her father, she had no business getting involved with a surveillance operation, especially since George had made contact with them. It was too dangerous.

“She’s right, Conor. They won’t suspect anything as long as Jess is in the picture. If she leaves, they might not be quite so trusting.”

He shook his head. “I don’t like it. And I don’t think the chief will be happy, either. He said there might be more people involved. Someone giving them orders.” He paused, thinking about the problem, before coming up with only one reasonable solution. “No, the situation could get sticky, and I don’t want her caught in the middle.”

“If Dad hadn’t thought I could take care of myself, he wouldn’t have encouraged me to become a police officer.”

It was as if she defied him to dispute the fact. What was she thinking? Judging from the stubborn look in her eye, he didn’t think she’d listen to reason. He had to give it a shot, though. “You said you weren’t meant to be a cop,” he said softly.

Her eyes narrowed. “I said I didn’t
want
to be a cop.

My choice. There’s a difference.” He gritted his teeth. Stay calm, he told himself. Losing his temper would only make matters worse. Even with TEMPERATURE’S RISING

79

her training, she wasn’t experienced enough for a stakeout. He knew she’d only been a street cop, but from what Mike had told him, she’d been given the easiest assign-ments.

What had he said about her? That she was as delicate as a rose petal. Looking at her, Conor knew Mike was telling the truth. Jessica was the picture of purity—even if her kisses told another story. A twinge of guilt rippled down his spine. He felt like the great corrupter.

Right now, she had to see he was right and the best possible solution, the only solution, was that she let him do his job. He took a deep, relaxing breath and continued.

“How can I protect you
and
catch the bad guys?” Her eyes narrowed to slits. “Excuse me? When I need a man to protect me, that’ll be the day I run out and buy a Betty Crocker cookbook and tie on an apron.” Stubborn, ornery, mule-headed . . . He opened his mouth, but Angie quickly spoke up.

“Listen, before the next world war breaks out, why don’t you give it a try? Just for a few days. You have to at least move in before you have a fight. If not, you’ll blow your cover and the chief will lose his job.” He wanted to continue his argument, but damn it, Angie was right. As much as he hated to admit it, after the kiss George witnessed, he’d be awfully skeptical if Jessica took off. He closed his eyes and counted to five. It didn’t help. He knew without a doubt she’d only get in his way.

But was there another reason he didn’t want her around?

He clamped his lips together. If he were honest with himself, Conor knew why he didn’t want Jessica in the same house with him. She was too tempting. He raked a hand through his hair, torn between the emotional up-heaval she caused every time she was within touching distance and not wanting to blow the surveillance. Angie 80

Karen Kelley

was right—if Jessica stormed out, the suspects would be suspicious of their new neighbor.

“Okay”—he reluctantly gave in—“but only for a few days.” He watched for any sign that she might be unwilling to go along with the arrangement.

“Agreed.”

That was too easy. She looked almost submissive. He hesitated, wondering exactly what she was plotting. He’d been around too many criminals not to spot a ruse. He didn’t buy that wide-eyed innocent look for a minute.

Unless he was misreading her again. The conversation he’d had with Mike flashed across his mind.

“Oh, no, Jess did most of the paper filing, looking up
information—that sort of stuff. Occasionally we’d let her
patrol the streets, but only if we knew she’d be protected
from the harsher elements. Why, she’s just a sweet, innocent kid.”

So maybe he was misjudging her. She could actually be pure as silk, but she damn well didn’t kiss like a virgin.

But just in case Jessica balked at leaving, Conor had a few surprises up his sleeve. And he’d use every tactic in his arsenal if she even thought about hanging around longer than necessary. It would be for her own good.

Jessica forced her gaze not to waver from Conor’s. She wasn’t about to go anywhere. “I swear I’ll leave as soon as possible.” Which would be as soon as they had enough evidence for a conviction.

“Good, I’m glad you can at least recognize the danger you’d be in if you stayed,” he said. “I’m going to look around. Stay inside. I don’t want you wandering away from the house.”

She and Angie watched him leave the room.

“You can uncross your fingers now,” Angie spoke dryly.

Jessica grinned. “I haven’t crossed my fingers since I was ten. Now I just flat-out lie—when I have to, that is.” TEMPERATURE’S RISING

81

Angie looked above the rim of her glasses. “I knew you weren’t about to let your father lose his job without a darn good fight. Loyalty means a lot in your family.”

“Yeah, it does,” Jessica quietly replied.

She glanced up when Conor strode back into the room.

“They look like the typical middle-class family,” he stated. “Picnic table and grill behind their house.”

“I think you two have everything under control,” Angie informed them. Adjusting her purse once more, she prepared to leave. “I’ll give the chief a rundown on the situation when I get back to the station.” Jessica tried to listen to what Angie was saying, but she could only think about brushing back a lock of Conor’s hair that had fallen forward. He might be obstinate and stubborn as hell,
and a cop
, but it didn’t stop him from being damn scrumptious.

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