Reluctantly in Love (17 page)

“Not specifically.” I did my best not to scowl, but this guy was pushing it.

“She’s my investigative associate,” Leo said from the doorway. He stepped inside and offered his hand to the cop. “I’m Leo Moss, LM Security.”

The cop’s eyes flickered with recognition. “Nice to meet you. I’m Officer Kent.”

LM Security was a big deal in private security and investigation. Leo had ten guys working security for him—a few of them were trained law enforcement and ex-military. They were the real deal, bad asses with a license to carry. When a dangerous person skipped bail, Leo’s guys went after them, and the cops respected them to do their job. In fact, they relied on it. It was also no secret LM Security employees were paid well, or that recruitment came from word of mouth and referral. I was prepared to watch this guy kiss Leo’s ass the rest of the night.

Missing animal investigator. Ptsch.

I took Beverly aside. Her hair stuck out every which way, and wiry. She seemed so small in her rose printed robe. If it weren’t for the big ass elephant rifle laying across her kitchen table, she might even look fragile. When she threatened to blow the alien to kingdom come, she’d been serious.

The fact she might have to shoot anything pissed me off. The woman should be safe in her home. Her cat shouldn’t have been napped. Something bigger was going on here. If an alien—and that was a big
if
—had taken Pretzels, why was it still sniffing around her home? Didn’t seem like the incognito abduction tactics extraterrestrials were notorious for. Leave no evidence behind, right?

“Did you call your stepson?”

She shook her head. “I didn’t want to bother him tonight.”

“You don’t think he would come?”

“He says he’s concerned with the mental strain Pretzels’ disappearance has put on me. I didn’t want him worrying.”

I glanced toward the kitchen to check where Leo was. He and the cop were outside on the patio. “Do you have anyone you can stay with tonight? Maybe Linda?”

“Oh, no, it’s too late to call her.” She pulled her robe tight to her chest and cinched the belt tighter. “I’ll be fine. The cop said he would make sure a patrol car makes rounds here for the next few nights.”

“I’m going outside to look around. Lock your doors, set your alarm again. I’ll be over in the morning.”

I left her in the house and went to join Leo, who now stood alone. The cop was gone. He had what he needed to file a report. Nothing was stolen or vandalized. No one had been harmed physically; there’d be no detective sent out, no forensic team to take photographs. That’s where I came in.

I set my camera to flash then peered through the scope.

“I’ll come out first thing in the morning and take another look around,” I told Leo. The two of us scanned the patio. I stepped up to the patio door and pointed at the frame. “There’s no sign of forced entry. Whoever got inside is either very good at B&E, a professional—” I glanced sideways to Leo whose face was creased as he mentally worked through the facts. “—Or they had a key.”

Or, it’s an alien who doesn’t need a key.

“I want to see your file on this case tomorrow. It’s strange to me that there’s a repeat prowler and only the cat is missing. How many times has it been?” Leo squatted beside the door to inspect the casing.

“There were three incidents, and then another the night the cat disappeared. Then nothing until tonight—almost two weeks since the cat disappeared.”

“Then it’s not random. Whoever it is wants something.” He stood and brushed his hands together. “We have to be missing something.”

Like aliens, maybe?

There was no evidence to take pictures of, but I snapped the photos anyway. It was always good to have dated pictures in case something happened in the future that left behind evidence of foul play.

We moved to the side of the house. An overturned rock in the flowerbed along the base of the house caught my eye.

“Look at that,” I said, and squatted down to take a picture.

Leo flipped on his flashlight and shined it down into the mulch. The wet soil caked to the decorative rock meant the boulder had been recently moved. It wasn’t a large rock, it was something I could easily pick up with one hand. I pointed at a shoeprint near where the rock had sat before being kicked out of place

“This print is fresh,” I said, more to myself than to Leo. “I was out doing surveillance all night on the Thompson case. It rained between nine p.m. and midnight.”

This isn’t an alien print!

Relieved, I looked up at Leo. “Whoever left this was here
after
the rain. This is probably our guy.”

“I’ll go get my measuring tape,” Leo said.

I kept snapping pictures. “
Mm,
thanks.”

I had an intense urge to dance around on Beverly’s patio.

If the cat were in outer-space, my chance of finding Pretzels was one in a million. Gen would be disappointed the alien angle was off the table, but my job just got easier. But humans? Humans made mistakes. A human, I could find.

Some ass-hat found perverted pleasure in torturing a senior citizen by making her believe she was crazy, and the creep had stolen her cat—I was going to take this bastard down. People sucked, and in my line of work this was proven on a daily basis.

There was another shoe print. This one was complete, but smeared, as if the person hadn’t meant to run through the garden and changed course by jumping out onto the driveway.

“Son of a . . .” I mumbled.

Leo knelt beside me to measure the shoeprint. “Might be a sneaker. Between a size eight and ten—the print’s smeared, so I can’t tell.”

“Equal chance it’s male or female.” I stood.

“Get those developed. I’ll see if we can get a better read on the shoe size and possible brand. It’s a long shot, but worth a try.” He shoved the measuring tape into the pocket of his jeans. “Suspects?”

“Two right now.” I gestured to Meredith Jensen’s house. “The neighbor isn’t fond of Beverly. Her reasons seem a little weak as motivation, but I’ll keep an eye on her anyway.”

“Second suspect?” Leo fell into step beside me down the driveway and our vehicles parked at the curb.

“I want to talk to her stepson, Matthew Garrett.”

Leo whistled. “As in Garrett Properties, Matthew Garrett? Heir to the Garrett fortune?”

“He might have a gambling problem. Though selling Pretzels on some kind of exotic animal black market wouldn’t get him enough money to fund a gambling addiction.” I shrugged. “But, someone’s messing with Beverly, and they’re still coming around. I’m going to assume they’ll show up again. I’m going to have Richard rig up some spy cams in the house and on the patio.”

“It’s a good idea. He can bill the office.”

We stopped beside my vehicle, and I leaned back against it. “I hope we find her cat. She’s a really nice lady. She shouldn’t be going through all this alone.”

“You’re a softie.” Leo tweaked my nose. “But we have a rule—we don’t get emotionally involved. That’s how we successfully close so many cases. That’s what makes us good at our job.”

I shoved the toe of my sneaker into the crack in the street curb. “I know. But I still hope we find her cat.”

“Do what we do—run everything you need on your suspects. We’ll talk when you have more.” He shoved his hands into his jeans pocket. “How are you doing?”

I raised my brows. “Why do I feel like that question is really a different question?”

“Because it is.” He leaned against the car beside me. “I don’t like it that you’re alone in that house and neither do my parents. I shouldn’t have moved out so soon.”

When Leo and his brother Jason came back from their tour together in Iraq, Leo returned in a wheelchair, and Jason returned in a casket. My cousins were like brothers to me and losing Jason had been hard; I couldn’t imagine what it was like for Leo that day. He hadn’t noticed being shot multiple times—he stayed with Jason through the gunfire until he could carry him to safety. While they waited for extraction, he held Jason in his arms until his brother took his last breath. There were times when I saw Leo drift to a place where the pain still gnawed at him.

I hadn’t wanted Leo living alone after finishing inpatient rehab, and he wasn’t the kind of guy to move back into his parents’ home. Convincing him to move in with his younger cousin was easy. Mentioning my cul-de-sac’s creepy new neighbor was all it took to get my cousin’s protective back up. Leo moved into the guest suite that same afternoon.

Pervy neighbor was gone now—a permanent resident of Florida, where the balls he liked to flash could bask in the sun year-round. If he were still in the neighborhood, I don’t think Leo would have moved out. And if he had, Uncle Leone and Leo would have given me a stern talking to about hiring a full time security guard before Leo made the move permanent. I probably would have hired the security guard, just to get Leo to move on to that next step with Lexie.

I slugged him in the shoulder. “I’ve been happily living on my own for a really long time, Leo. And now that your socks don’t smell up the house I won’t have to buy so many of those potpourri plug-ins.”

“That house is too big.” He gestured with a nod to Mrs. Potter’s house. “Maybe you should think about downsizing too.”

It was something that had crossed my mind a few times. I pushed off the side of the SUV to face Leo. He stood on the sidewalk with his hands in his jeans pockets.

“Maybe. I’ll think about it. You better get home so Lexie doesn’t worry, and I need some sleep so I can get back here first thing.”

I rounded the front of my vehicle and clicked the unlock button on the key fob.

“You know, if you didn’t spend so much time working and writing, you might be able to find a good guy,” Leo said.

I pulled the driver’s door open and rested my hand on the handle. “Since when do you give me relationship advice that isn’t
he’s not good enough for you
or
did you run a background check
?”

“Since Lexie told me she thinks you’re lonely.”

I jerked my head in surprise. “What gave her that idea? You know I like my space.”

His lips turned down in a slight frown. “No, I think you’ve made yourself used to the solitude. There’s a difference.”

“I’m happy. Tell your girlfriend not to worry so much, okay? You two just worry about picking out furniture for your new place. Me, I’m going to concentrate on finding this cat and finishing my book.” I sat on the edge of the driver’s seat, one leg out. “Thanks for coming tonight. That cop was working on getting his ass ripped, and I probably would have ended up in jail.”

Leo laughed, already walking to his vehicle parked in front of mine. “I would have let you sit in the tank for a few hours if you had.”

“I know.” I rolled my eyes. “Your tough-love sucks.”

“See you tomorrow, Rox.”

Lonely.
It was ridiculous. And yet, as I drove home with heavy lids, the word rolled around inside my head.

Chapter Sixteen

The cement patio under my feet spanned the length of the old warehouse that had been renovated for business use in the Haymarket District. I stood in a slow-moving line of people waiting to enter
Imogen’s Gallery
. Trailing one hand along the steel railing, I scrolled through messages on my cell phone with the other.

After months of renovations, Gen was now the proud owner of an art gallery; within minutes, I crossed the threshold. I’d gone to many other galleries all over the state; none of them felt as alive as hers
.
All the pieces she’d chosen to display were colorful and unique, like Gen’s personality.

I searched the room for the star of the night and found her near the dessert table on the other side of the room. Our friend, Mel, the owner of
Baby Cakes,
had come and arranged a beautiful display of mini cupcake towers for Gen’s big night. Matt had his arm around Gen’s waist; his gaze burst with adoration. They were joined by an older couple, and Gen’s hands were animated as she spoke. Not wanting to interrupt a possible sale, I walked to the opposite side of the gallery and snagged a flute of champagne from a server’s tray.

Gen’s own artwork was mixed in with paintings from local artists, which had been her vision from the start. For years she’d put off displaying her own art. It wasn’t that she was shy, but like most artists I’d met—whether musicians, visual artists, or writers—stepping out into the limelight for the first time to announce our passion to the world was a little nerve-wracking.

I stood before one of Gen’s paintings hanging on the wall. Every stroke of the brush was bold and charismatic as if, with these colors, she announced that she was here to stay.

“Roxanna.”

Chase
.

My name on his lips caused shivers of excitement to shoot up my spine. I knew he’d be here. Every minute of today leading to this moment had turned my stomach into knots of expectation. I had no way to describe the unexpected emotions bouncing around inside of me, and there was nothing to attribute it to—only Chase. That wasn’t all. In an unexpected turn, my writing had morphed from a paranormal mystery to something seasoned with passion and sexy whispers in the dark. Now there was a hero in my story when a hero had never been my intention. I wasn’t sure what to think about it yet, but that kiss in his examination room had shaken me up. Inside I was a confusing mix of nervous and thrilled to see him.

With him standing behind me, the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. I sucked in a breath and held it while I made a slow turn. I wanted to enjoy my first vision of him tonight. Savor it.

“Chase.” His name was breathy on my lips. He was gorgeous in a charcoal grey suit and a grape collared shirt. My heartbeat became a clumsy staccato in my chest when my gaze locked with his.

“How is my favorite subdural hematoma patient?” The corners of his lips flirted with a smile.

The memory of our kiss lingered on my lips.

His eyes twinkled, as if he knew exactly what was on my mind. Or maybe it was just the lighting? All I knew was that the room was warm all of a sudden. I willed the butterflies in my stomach to
calm the hell down.