Nowhere to Hide (15 page)

As she moved the iron over the small cotton square, Harrigan’s face hovered in front of her. She stared at the phone, trying to decide if she should call, what she could say.

The phone rang and she jumped, nearly sending the iron to the floor.

When she recognized Graham’s voice, she knew her mouth was moving but she couldn’t get the sounds out.

“
Are you there? Are you all right? Are you still not speaking to me?” he asked.

“
Yes. No. I’m … Damn. Why don’t you come over and get your damn handkerchief?” She couldn’t have sounded more rude if she’d tried.

There was a brief silence and she was afraid he’d hung up.

“
I can do that. Want to grab some dinner?” His voice was smooth. “If you like Thai, Thai Passion’s not far from your place. We can celebrate my first full day in CID. And commiserate over my first screw-up at the same time.”

She managed a more polite tone. “Sure.”

“
Give me time to get home and change. I’d rather not go in uniform. Forty-five minutes okay?”

She hung up, feeling like an idiot. Had she been able to utter a single word of more than one syllable? Oh, yes. Handkerchief. Brilliant. But she felt her chest tighten and her face get hot. Now all she had to do was figure out how to apologize.

She considered the jeans she was wearing. She ought to change. But into what? She went into the bedroom and stared at all the bags, still scattered on the closet floor where she’d kicked them. Pulling out one garment after another, she realized she had no clue what kind of a place this restaurant was. Or why she gave a damn. What was wrong with jeans? She dug out Tracy’s cell phone number. The new Colleen could call a girlfriend when she needed help with girl stuff.

“
Hey, Tracy, it’s Colleen,” she said when she heard her friend’s voice come on the line. “I need advice.” She heard talking and music in the background. “Got a minute?”

“
Sure. We’re still getting dressed. First show is at six. What do you need?”

“
Do you know anything about a restaurant called Thai Passion?”

“
Yeah, it’s in the Fountains shopping center down on Sand Lake. Why? You craving Thai? Wait! Don’t tell me. Your deputy is taking you to dinner! Cool! You have to wear the green dress. The place isn’t formal, but it’s got a quiet elegance. Around here, because of all the tourists, anything goes, but you’ve got to wear the green. Oh, it’ll be perfect. Absolutely perfect. What are you going to do with your hair?”

“
I don’t know. I haven’t gotten that far yet. Why?”

“
You have to wear it up. Or a braid—you can do a French braid, can’t you?”

“
Yeah, that was my standard work do. But why not leave it down? I thought guys liked long flowing hair.” Why was she thinking about what guys liked? She’d never cared before.

“
That’s the point. He’ll be looking at your hair all night, itching to get it free and loose so he can run his fingers through it.”

“
Hey, we’re going to dinner. I have no intention of letting his fingers run through my hair. Or anywhere else, for that matter.”

“
All the better. He’ll call back and keep hoping. Trust me. Braid it.”

Colleen sighed. “Life was easier when I wore a uniform.” She heard Tracy’s name being shouted. Something about a wig.

“
Gotta go,” Tracy said. “I’ll expect a call tomorrow.”

Colleen exhaled. Where had the time gone? She’d better hurry. It had been a while since she’d given a damn about what she looked like. Her breath caught when she realized she did give a damn.

After a quick shower, she brushed her teeth and stared into the mirror. Too pale, and the dark circles under her eyes didn’t help. She pulled open the drawer and dug around for her meager stash of makeup. A little foundation helped. A dusting of blush helped a little more. Mascara so her eyelashes were visible and a quick brush of shadow on her lids. That was as good as it would get.

She went into the bedroom and pulled the green dress from the bag.

Relax. No sweat. You’re getting dressed. You do this every day. Deep breath
.

She took a full thirty seconds to inhale and exhale slowly and deeply, centering herself. With only the slightest shaking, she pulled on a pair of thigh-highs. Underwear. What bag had that ended up in? Tossing things on the bed, she dug out the bikini panties and matching bra Tracy had insisted on.

“
You’re not trying to squeeze them inside a bullet proof vest,” Tracy had said. “Quit hiding them.” Those people at Maidenform knew what they were doing. She had cleavage on display. Too much? What kind of a signal would she be sending? No time to worry.

She stepped into the dress. The sleek fabric slithered over her hips, stopping an inch above her knees. Tracy had said things about flow and drape. All Colleen had cared about was that it was comfortable and the label said “machine wash, tumble dry.” She arranged the loose folds of the cowl neckline and inspected her reflection in the mirror. She smiled. It gave the illusion of being cut much lower than it was. Graham would have to work to get much of a peek and she’d know it. Of course, he was six inches taller than she was and—stop it. Get dressed. She was making this far too complicated.

The new cream-colored pumps had heels that would take three inches off the height difference. She walked around the apartment until she didn’t wobble. It had been a long, long time since she’d worn shoes like these.

Fifteen minutes to go. She closed her eyes, took another centering breath and began braiding her hair, trying to let her fingers do what they had done so many times before. After one false start, the muscle memory took over and she was done.

Jewelry? Pearl stud earrings, the silver watch her grandmother had given her as a graduation gift. Purse? She stuffed her wallet and keys in a small knit bag. That was it. No more. Now she was done. The doorbell rang. Fighting the huge grin that kept taking over her face, she went to the door.

Harrigan stood there, dressed in dark slacks, polished black loafers and a charcoal-gray sport coat over a deep blue shirt. His eyes had darkened two shades to match. She was sure he could hear her heart pounding. He stood there, staring at her. Her face flamed. What was wrong? He was probably expecting her to be wearing something skimpy, tight, and low-cut. She pictured him with skimpy, tight, low-cut women.

She found her voice, although its huskiness took her by surprise. “I’m sorry. This was all I had to wear.”

Finally, his eyes seemed to focus. “You look perfect.” He cleared his throat. “I don’t want you to be mad at me.”

She opened her mouth to retort, but snapped it shut. Better to accept his apology than reopen last night’s fiasco. “No problem. Can we drop it?”

“
I didn’t think I’d get off that easy. You seemed awfully upset last night.” He extended a gold gift bag from behind his back.

She reached for the bag, not trying to disguise her delight. Of course, he might have put anything into the Godiva bag, but she was counting on it being chocolate.

Her fingers touched his as she took the bag and an electric jolt flowed through her. She started digging through the tissue and pulled out the gold box with its brown elastic binding.

“
Thank you! But you shouldn’t have. I was the jerk.” Her face heated and she lowered her head, avoiding his gaze.

“
You said we should drop it. It’s over, done, and I’m hungry. Shall we go?”

She went to the kitchen, set the box on the counter and retrieved her purse. “Sounds good. I haven’t had anything since a bagel this morning. I’m starved.”

Outside, he stepped away so she could lock the door, then offered his arm. She shook her head in amusement, but snaked hers through it, and they walked up the driveway to the street where he’d parked his Jeep. He opened the passenger door for her, and she slid in.

She leaned over to open his door for him. When she realized she was giving him the view she’d been worried about, she jerked upright and met his eyes. At least he had the decency to pretend he hadn’t looked.

Graham started the car, made a sharp U-turn and headed down the street. He tried to ignore the tug in his loins when she’d leaned across the seats. The way the tops of her firm, round breasts had peeked out as the neckline of her dress swung forward. This was not the woman he’d seen at the gym last night. That had definitely been Mac. This was Colleen. And tonight, she sparkled. He was going to make up for whatever had pissed her off last night. Be the perfect gentleman.

The spray from the quasi-Italian fountains that gave the shopping center its name shimmered in the early evening light. He parked near the round black awnings that marked the entrance to the restaurant. He saw Colleen unbuckle her belt and reach for the door latch and he tapped her arm.

“
Wait.  Please.” He saw a flash in her eyes and a retort obviously bitten back. But she waited while he walked around the car to open her door.

He didn’t pretend he wasn’t looking when she swung her legs around and took his arm to steady herself as she climbed down. He saw her glance down at her hint of décolletage and flush, but she met his eyes with a shy smile.

“
Thanks. I’m not used to these shoes.”

“
You’re beautiful,” he whispered and squeezed her hand.

She hesitated. Her face turned a deeper shade of pink. “Thank you.” She put her hand over his. “You look … really good.”

They walked the few paces to the restaurant in silence. He saw her reach for the door, and when she held back and waited for him to do it, something inside shifted, leveled off.

He pulled the door open and let his eyes adjust to the dim light. The scent of exotic spices filled the air. He waited for Colleen to enter, then stepped in behind her.

“
I’m not used to this female stuff,” she said.

“
I like independence in a woman, but tonight … I don’t know. I suppose I want to feel like …”

Before he could finish, the hostess greeted them and led them to a sunken booth at the far side of the room. As she lowered herself onto the padded bench, she realized that sitting on the floor was an illusion. The tables actually had plenty of leg room beneath them.

Graham unfurled his napkin and placed it in his lap. “Don’t get me wrong. I don’t for a minute think you
need
taking care of, but sometimes it feels good to think I’m taking care of a woman.”

“
That’s why you became a cop, isn’t it? To take care of people. Protect them. Right wrongs.”

He nodded, relieved she’d understood. Of course she would. She’d been a cop too. “I’m glad you’ll let me play out my evening of gallantry, then.”

“
Sure. But next time, it’ll be my turn.”

Next time. His heart did a little dance. A waiter approached and asked to take their drink orders. Graham was about to order champagne for the two of them when the memory of the Scotch bottle on Colleen’s shelf stopped him short. He searched her eyes, but saw no guilt, no hesitation. “Would you like something?”

“
I think I’d rather wait until dinner. But feel free. I haven’t eaten all day. Anything now would wipe me out.”

Graham turned back to the waiter. “May I see the wine list?”

The waiter set a padded folder in front of Graham. “I’ll give you a moment.”

“
Do you prefer reds? Whites?” Graham asked Colleen. “Do you know what you’re going to order? Not that I’m rigid about wine pairings.”

She perused the menu. “One of the curries, I think. Can’t decide between the yellow or the
Panaeng
. The yellow looks good, but I’m in the mood for lamb.”

He picked up his own menu. “How about we get one of each?”

She agreed, and he scanned the wine offerings, but he couldn’t deny the gnawing of his conscience. If Colleen did have a problem, he shouldn’t be contributing. Yet she was an adult and had to be responsible for her own actions. He closed the list and folded his hands on top of it.

“
Colleen, do you trust me?”

She gave him a quizzical look. “Sure. Order anything you want. I’m pretty easy.”

“
That’s not what I meant.”

Her expression changed to one of concern. “Is there something wrong?”

“
No. But … I need to know we can be honest with each other.” God, he didn’t want to blow the evening now. He wanted so much to take her hands in his, but he resisted. “I don’t mean you have to tell me anything you don’t want to, but if you do answer, I want it to be the truth. And it goes both ways.”

“
This is like, heavy Celt to Celt now, isn’t it?”

He wiped his palms on his napkin. Questioning Kimberly had been so much easier. He met Colleen’s solemn gaze and plunged off the edge of the cliff. “I don’t know what it is about you, but I care. A lot. And the other day, when I was checking out your place after the break-in, I noticed a bottle of Scotch on the shelf, with a line on it. I wondered—”

“
If I was an alcoholic?”

Her tone indicated neither offense nor indignation. “It crossed my mind you might have a problem, yes.”

She took a deep breath, but didn’t break the lock on his eyes. “I drank too much a while ago. Short term, and I realized it wasn’t the answer to my problems. That bottle is there to remind me when I shouldn’t be drinking. I’m not an alcoholic, and I would love some wine with dinner. But I’ll understand if you think it would be better to stick to something soft.”

He realized he’d stopped breathing and managed to inhale. “I hope I wasn’t out of line.”

She smiled. “Actually, it’s kind of sweet that you cared. I mean, you could have gotten me drunk and …” She blushed.

He loved the way she blushed. He motioned the waiter over. “The Jordan Cabernet. But with our meal.”