To Love and Protect (7 page)

"No!" Shelley exclaimed quickly. "Not yet, at least. For now it's probably enough that we're both aware she's not quite ..."

"Got both feet on the bicycle pedals?"

Shelley grinned at his analogy. "Something like that."

"Okay, well I best be getting her home. But don't you worry, Shelley. We'll get to the bottom of this. And Officer Reardon's determined to keep you safe, especially after you saved his dog.”

Shelley couldn't help but notice how Sergeant Rinaldi was studying her closely. "He's a good man, that Matt Reardon. A smart, devoted police officer. Kind of reminds me of Ted sometimes."

I know,
thought Shelley. And it was revelation that was equal parts good and bad.

"Well, you take care now, Shelley. And don't hesitate to call Joyce or myself if you need anything, you hear?"

Shelley thanked the sergeant and stood on the porch as he backed out of the driveway and drove away. There were people in her life who truly cared about her and were looking out for her. Yet, as she went inside with her dogs and shut the door behind her, she suddenly realized that there was a part of her that had truly felt alone since Ted had died … and she didn't want to feel alone anymore.

FIVE

True to his word, Matt rang the doorbell just after seven the next night. "Come on in," Shelley said as she opened the door. Wearing an above-the-knee, fitted tan skirt that showcased her toned legs and a black short-sleeve sweater, Shelley hoped it wouldn't be too obvious to Matt that she had spent an extra half-hour getting ready for his arrival.

His warm smile only told her that he was pleased with what he saw, regardless of her effort. The truth was she had been waiting for this moment all day long. Even a busy day at the clinic couldn't keep her thoughts from sneaking back to him. It was such a exhilarating feeling to look forward to seeing someone this way, but circumstances made it a scary, uneasy feeling, too.

"I figured your place would look like this," Matt said as he came inside.

"Like what?"

"Very country-ish, with a few animals napping around."

Shelley looked over at Dozer on his rug in front of the fireplace and Toodles in her favorite spot on the arm of the couch. "Good guess," she laughed.

Matt's eyes wandered to Ted's picture on the fireplace mantle. He studied it silently from where he stood several feet away, then turned back to Shelley. "I wrote up a report about the two incidents on your porch.  You can read it over and then sign it if it sounds okay to you."

"Sure." She took the report from Matt, and then sat down on the couch. "Have a seat."

Matt complied and sat in a chair next to her. "Sergeant Rinaldi told me about his conversation with you last night and about your neighbor, Marge Henderson."

Shelley looked up from the report. "News sure does travel fast."

"It does in a small police department."

"So do you think she might be behind this, too?"

"I haven't met her, so I don't know. I'd have to have a feeling for the kind of person she is." He paused. "You're smiling at me. Did I say something funny?"

"No, it's just..."

"Just what?"

"Well, Ted used to be like that. He could read a person almost by instinct."

"He was a good police officer. That's all a part of it."

Shelley wondered whether she had somehow insulted Matt by comparing him to Ted. And truthfully, she couldn't blame him if he felt this way. Who wanted to compete with a memory, a ghost? "I'm sorry," she said quietly. "I shouldn't have brought that up."

"You have nothing to be sorry for. It's only natural that having another police officer around would make you think of him."

"It's not like that…. Since Ted died, I just haven't found someone I really like being around – until now."

Did she really just say that, Shelley wondered? Why was she putting her heart on the line with a man who probably just felt sorry for her? And even if it were more – after all, he basically had said as much the other night − what about her resolve to steer clear of a situation that could potentially have the same unhappy ending?

Shelley's thoughts were silenced as Matt came over and sat down next to her. Without words, he took her face in his hands and stared into her eyes. Before she could think about what was happening, he pulled her close and kissed her forehead, his lips then finding their way to her own. She leaned into his rugged body, the heat from their kiss traveling downward and stirring up waves of pleasure as it did. She caught her breath as Matt caressed the inside of her bare knee, her body humming with sweet anticipation. It had been so long since she had released the passion inside of her ... so long since she allowed herself to feel anything, both emotionally and physically. The realization of where things could lead gripped Shelley's chest like a straightjacket. She pulled away from Matt and gasped slightly, momentarily disoriented. She could see the hunger in Matt's eyes as she looked back with distance now between them, but she also felt his patient understanding as he squeezed her knee and smiled. "I think Carly would definitely approve."  

She laughed as she looked down at his hand that now held hers. Passion mixed with a comfortable ease − it was just the combination she needed to feel truly close to someone.

"Do you always kiss someone after they sign a police report?"

"Just all the women."

Shelley playfully dug her elbow into his ribs.

"Okay, okay," he relented. "I'll admit it. You're the first."

"I guess I'll have to fill out a police report more often then."

Matt smiled. "Is that a promise?"

As he leaned forward to kiss her again, Shelley melted into his arms. But the loud crackling of his radio transmitter blurred the moment.

"There's a disturbance at Murphy's Tavern," the police dispatcher announced evenly. "One unit responding, back-up is requested."

"I'll take the call," Matt radioed back. "I'm approximately five miles from the tavern. I'll be there in a few minutes." He stood up, still clutching one of Shelley's hands. "I have to go."

Shelley glanced at the clock above the fireplace. "It's ten minutes to eight. Your shift is practically over. Can't they send someone else?" Her voice was as unsteady as her eyes were fearful.

"Shelley, relax," Matt said, stroking her long, silky hair. "It'll be all right."

She closed her eyes, realizing how foolish she must seem. But her reaction was almost beyond her control. How many times had Ted told her he would be all right when he left for work? And then one day, he never came back.

"Look, it's probably just some guy who threw back a few too many beers and is giving the bartender a hard time, that's all."

Shelley nodded, avoiding his eyes.

"Can I call you tomorrow?" he asked.

"That would be nice."

Matt leaned over and quickly kissed her on the cheek before heading out the door. In a matter of seconds, his car flew in reverse up the driveway, then pulled onto the road and sped forward. Shelley remained quietly seated on the couch, her mind racing even faster than Matt's car. Sure, she had her share of animal emergencies that took her out unexpectedly into the middle of the night, and it wasn't something she could ever stop doing, even for love. But she always came back. Could the same be said of Matt and
his
emergencies?

Matt accelerated down the road towards the tavern, but his thoughts were still back with Shelley in her living room. Normally his senses would be heightened as he closed in on a public disturbance call, but his focus was too scattered for his adrenaline to build. Besides, something else had been building ten minutes ago, and it had yet to fully subside. Desire no doubt had a chemical component, but he wasn't about to break it down into some molecular formula. He wanted Shelley, plain and simple. Physically, that was for certain. Every fiber in his body ached for her touch. But it was more than that. He cared about what happened to her. He wanted to be with her, on whatever terms were possible now, just languishing in her presence and melting in her warmth.

Two police cars were parked on the street, lights flashing, as Matt pulled up to the tavern. Like any police officer, his instinct was to help his fellow officers as much as protect the public. Meeting Shelley was a reminder of the deadly consequences of a bad day at work in his profession.

The tavern door swung open just as he reached for the handle, knocking him back as Sergeant Rinaldi tumbled outside, his lean arms nevertheless securely fastened around a young man in handcuffs. Matt didn't recognize the man, but as he stepped inside, he did recognize the object that sailed towards him. He ducked too late as the beer mug smashed against his forehead. He realized the warm liquid running down his cheek was most likely blood and not Guinness, but after staggering for a second, he righted himself and squinted through the smoky room.

"I got him!" Officer Jenkins yelled as the young female rookie leaped on another man's back like a baby koala bear springing onto its mother.

Great, Matt thought as he plowed through the rowdy crowd. All he needed was to see her get tossed through the air with the velocity of the beer mug. Like a bull trampling a tulip field, he plowed the man down to the ground, holding his arms in a vice grip while Officer Jenkins slapped handcuffs on him.

"Dang out-of-towners," Sergeant Rinaldi muttered a few minutes later as Matt joined him outside. "Guess they ran out of places to ransack in their own neck of the woods, so they decided to wreak havoc here."

"Not anymore," Matt observed as another officer on the scene tossed the two men in the back of the car.

Sergeant Rinaldi nodded to Matt's forehead. "You do know you're bleeding, right?"

Matt mopped his cheek with his sleeve. "Yup."

"You keep taking hits to the face like that and pretty soon you're gonna start looking like me instead of some young stud muffin."

Matt's injury didn't stop him from pausing to shoot Sergeant Rinaldi a curious glance.

The sergeant shrugged. "That's what happens to your vocabulary when you have a teenage granddaughter around."

Over here, guys," he called to the rescue workers who were mulling around the scene.

"I'm okay−"

Sergeant Rinaldi silenced Matt with a shake of his head. "Now, none of that macho stuff. You have a bad cut and you need medical treatment." Matt was beginning to feel like he was in the
Twilight Zone
. Maybe that beer mug had jostled his brain around just a bit, too.

"Sarge, didn't you refuse medical treatment last month when Chester Briggs socked you in the eye after one of his drunken binges?"

"That's different."

"Oh?"

"I gotta do stuff like that once in a while to add a little spice to the marriage. It's been thirty-three years, you know. Joyce gets a little frisky when I come home with a shiner every now and then. Makes her think she's married to a modern-day cowboy or something."

Matt laughed and shook his pounding head. He couldn't be sure if Sergeant Rinaldi was being serious, but he sure wouldn't be able to look at Joyce the same ever again.

"I chatted with Shelley Dougan for a bit yesterday," Sergeant Rinaldi said, looking straight ahead. "She's a fine woman, that's for sure."

"I know," Matt said quietly.

"She's like a daughter to Joyce and me. When Ted died we damn near took her in. It killed us to see what she was going through."