Authors: Kate SeRine
Safe from Harm
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Copyright © 2016 by Kate SeRine
Cover and internal design © 2016 by Sourcebooks, Inc.
Cover art by Kris Keller
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P.O. Box 4410, Naperville, Illinois 60567-4410
(630) 961-3900
Fax: (630) 961-2168
For my dear friend R. G., and all other first responders who have given their lives in the line of duty.
Deputy Gabe Dawson pulled into the parking lot of Moe's Diner, habit and finely honed instinct allowing him to take in at a glance the cars parked out front. There were the two guysâmechanics from the adjacent garageâsmoking cigarettes at the corner of the building, shooting the shit on their break. And the three construction workers with mud-caked boots just coming out of the diner with their to-go orders in a plain white plastic bag. A businesswoman in a power suit was texting furiously as she hurried down the sidewalk in three-inch heels. And a couple strolled toward their car, gazing at each other with wide smiles on their faces as they held hands.
Moe's was certainly hopping with activity, the restaurant's reputation making it one of the most popular lunch spots in the county. The fifties-themed burger joint hadn't changed much in the decades since it'd started serving up milk shakes to the teenagers who'd come there back in the day to listen to their favorite records on the jukebox and sit knee to knee with their sweethearts, sipping a soda with two straws while they gazed at each other all moony-eyed. It was like something out of a freaking Norman Rockwell painting.
Too bad the neighborhood around the diner had pretty much gone to shit in the last ten years or so. Now, Moe's was right in the middle of a region with one of the highest crime rates in the entire county. You wouldn't catch any teenagers in there now unless they were high and looking for some cheap eats to curb the munchies.
These days, the typical clientele mostly consisted of people who worked in the area and couldn't take one more day of eating at the handful of fast food restaurants or at the pizza place, which, on its third owner in five years, had been on the Board of Health's shit list more than once. The diner was also known to be one of the favorite lunch spots for law enforcement who patrolled the area.
Bart “Moe” Morrison appreciated having the extra police presence around to deter the criminal elements and riffraff that had driven so many other businesses out over the years. He'd worked damned hard to keep the diner his father had started in 1958 alive and wasn't about to let his old man down.
Gabe sure as hell could understand
that
. His own father was Sheriff of Fairfield County, Indiana, as had been
his
father before him and
his
father before himâ¦and on down the line. Law enforcement was in the Dawson family's blood. As Mac Dawson reminded his four sons often, the Dawsons had been the law in the county since before it even
was
a county, and they had an obligation to carry on the family legacy. But with his dad and grandfather having had long, distinguished careers, Gabe had a lot to live up to.
Which was one of the reasons he requested to be assigned to this particular area as often as possible. He wasn't going to make a name for himself sitting on his ass in Amish country or dealing with the occasional pissed-off neighbor in the suburbs. He needed to be where the action was, where he could actually make a difference and protect the community.
But even in this section of the county there were uneventful days, and this had promised to be one of them. He knew he should be grateful he hadn't had to deal with a break-in or a shooting or domestic dispute, but he hadn't had a single call, which made the day drag on.
Gabe sighed as he pulled into a parking spot and called in to dispatch, letting them know he was going to be out of service for lunch. He was just getting out of his department Tahoe when a squad car for the local police department pulled in a couple of spaces down from his.
“Well, I'd
thought
this place was going to hell,” Gabe drawled as he sidled up to the driver's open window, “but now that you're here, I have proof.”
Officer Chris Andrews laughed as he got out of his car. “Fuck off, Dawson. Let me know when you want to leave the sheriff's department and come work for a
real
police force.”
Gabe returned his laugh and extended his hand to his friend. “What the hell are you doing here, Chris? I thought Jessica went into labor yesterday.”
Chris grunted. “Yeah, change of plans.”
“False alarm?”
Chris nodded on a sigh. “
Again
. I swear, you'd think we'd know the real deal by now.”
Gabe chuckled as they headed into the diner together. “What is this anyway? Kid number fifteen or something?”
Chris rolled his eyes and shook his head. “
Three
, dumbass.”
Gabe feigned a look of surprise. “Seriously? I thought it had to be more than that. It seems like you two are popping out kids all the time.”
“Piss off,” Chris shot back, snagging one of the only empty tables in the diner. “You're just jealous. You'll change your mind one of these days. When you meet the right woman.”
Gabe grunted, glancing around a little. He hated having his back to the door. Not being able to see the entire room at once made him twitchy. “Yeah right. How long have you known me, Chris?”
Chris laughed good-naturedly. “Hey, it could happenâeven to a loser like you.”
Gabe chuckled. “If I recall, you had a reputation of your own once upon a time, Andrews.”
“That was in high school, you dick. I wizened up.”
Gabe lifted a brow at his best friend. “Oh yeah? I can think of a few dumbass moves since then. Need a few reminders? 'Cause I remember 'em all, dude.”
“God, no!” Chris said with a grin. “It's a wonder we even survived with some of the stupid shit we used to pull. If your dad had had any idea of what we were up to, he'd have kicked our asses all over the county.”
“No shit. He⦔ Gabe's words died on his lips when he suddenly caught a glimpse of a stunning titian-haired woman sitting a few tables away. “I'll be damned. What's
she
doing here?”
Chris twisted around in his seat. “Elle McCoy? Dunno. I'm sure they let her out of the prosecutor's office now and then.” He turned back around, then a slow, shit-eating grin spread over his face. “No way.”
“What?” Gabe demanded, dragging his gaze away from where the county's deputy prosecutor was chatting with some douchebag in a suit.
“You've got the hots for Elle,” Chris drawled.
“Whatever,” Gabe scoffed, although he had to admit it didn't sound very convincing. Probably because he was lying out his ass. “She can't stand me. And she's more than happy to tell me to fuck off at every opportunity.”
“I always knew she was wicked smart,” Chris mused with a grin.
“Yeah, well, she was smart enough to pink-slip you,” Gabe shot back, still irked all these years later that his best friend had ended up going out with Elle her entire senior year before they'd called it quits. Even worse was that it was his own damned fault Chris and Elle had dated because he'd actually suggested Chris ask her out. It pissed him off even more that in spite of their breakup, Chris and Elle had stayed friends all these years, while
he'd
rarely even received a civil word from her.
“So, what are you saying? Jessica's an idiot for marrying me?”
“An
idiot
?” Gabe scoffed. “Hell no! The woman's a
saint
to put up with your ass.”
“Well, it's gonna take another saint to handle you, that's for damned sure,” Chris assured him. “And I don't know that you'll find another woman like Jessica.”
Gabe glanced back to where Elle and the Suit were sitting to see them pushing back from the table. The guy didn't even pull out her chair. God, what an asshat. She could do so much better. She
deserved
so much better.
When she suddenly glanced over their way and smiled, offering a little wave in greeting, he jerked his chin, belatedly realizing she'd been waving at Chris.
“Shit,” Gabe muttered under his breath, feeling like a moron when Elle noticed him. But, much to his surprise, she and douche-suit made their way over to his and Chris's table.
“Hey, Chris,” she greeted with a friendly smile. But when she turned toward Gabe, her gorgeous green eyes danced with light, and she raised a brow as if in silent challenge. “Dawson.”
He allowed a slow grin to curve his mouth and leaned back in the chair, resting his forearms on his gun belt as he drawled in a low voice, “McCoy.”
She flushed a little as their gazes held, but then her chin went up a notch and she turned her attention back to Chris. “How's Jessica? Any news?”
Chris's gaze was darting between Gabe and Elle, and he had to smother a grin when he replied, “Soon. I'll let her know you asked about her.”
“So who's your friend?” Gabe asked, jerking his chin toward the stiff who looked extremely bored to be having a conversation with two cops.
“Oh, sorry!” Elle replied as if suddenly remembering the guy was even there. “Chet, this is Officer Chris Andrews and Deputy Gabe Dawson.”
Jesus, seriously? Chet?
Gabe stood and extended his hand, not surprised at all when Chet's grip was pathetic and clammy. “What brings you slumming to this part of town,
Chet
?”
Chet gave him a tense smile, his gaze darting around nervously, like he was afraid he'd catch a mean case of the clap just by being in a place that didn't take reservations a month in advance. “Well, Elle suggested we dine in thisâ¦
unique
establishment. I believe she called it a âcultural icon' of the county. And how could I refuse one of her little whims?” He placed his hand on the small of Elle's back and gave her a look that made Gabe's jaw tighten with disgust. “She's so delightful that way.”
God, what a fucking tool.
“Uh-huh.” Gabe blinked at the guy. What the hell did Elle
possibly
see in that guy? “So where you kids off to now? Too early for the opera, I guess.”
Chet looked down his nose at Gabe as he said, “I'm heading back to the office to close a multimillion dollar deal before calling it a day and heading to the gym. And how about you, sport? Have you met your doughnut quota today?”
As much as Gabe would've loved to clock the condescending little prick, he settled for giving him a cockeyed grin, refusing to rise to the bait. “Not yet,
champ
. But the day's still young. There just might be a cruller in my future.”
“Chet, would you mind going out and starting the car?” Elle interjected, dismissing the guy before Gabe could get in another jab. “It's such a hot day⦔
“Sure thing, babe. Don't be long.”
As soon as he was gone, Gabe shook his head. “
Babe?
Wow. Gotta hand it to you, Elle, he's a whole new level of asshat.”
“See you later, Chris,” Elle said, pointedly ignoring Gabe's remark before turning on her heel and striding toward the door.
Gabe muttered a curse under his breath, then cast a glance at his friend. “I'll be right back, Chris. Order somethin' for me, will ya?”
He didn't wait for a response before hurrying after Elle and catching her just as she was pushing open the door. “Here,” he said, holding it open for her. “Let me get that.”
She huffed and turned toward him, giving him a perplexed look. “I don't get you, Dawson.” She sighed. “One minute you're a total jackass with the social graces of an ape, and the next you're a complete gentleman.”
He leaned his shoulder against the doorframe and offered her a grin. “What can I say? I'm a total enigma.”
She rolled her eyes, but her mouth hitched up slightly in one corner. “Yeah, right.”
“You know what I think?” he asked.
She blinked at him, her sarcasm in every bat of her lovely eyes as she said, “Oh, do tell. This should be enlightening.”
He leaned slightly toward her. “I think that deep down you actually really like me and that this whole âkiss my ass, you suck, Gabe' attitude is just an act to disguise your true feelings.”
He didn't miss the way her cheeks flushed even as she turned her eyes up to the ceiling, as if considering his words. Then she shook her head. “Nope. Pretty sure it's for real.”
“Nah,” he drawled, leaning in just a little closer. “I know you, McCoy.”
She raised a single brow, and there was no mistaking the challenge this time around. He had the sneaking suspicion she enjoyed their little sparring matches as much as he did. “Dawson,” she said, closing the gap just enough to make him hold his breath in anticipation, “the only thing you know about me is my measurements.”
Ouch.
He straightened, clutching his chest as if she'd struck him. “Knife to the heart, McCoy. Knife to the heart.”
She patted his chest with mock sympathy. “Be strong, Dawson. I'm sure any pain you're suffering at my rejection will be short-lived.”
“Let me take you out for a drink tonight at Mulaney's,” he suggested. “Give me the chance to turn on the ol' Dawson charm.”
“I've never known you to be without a date on a Friday night,” she said, her tone a little wary. “Hit a dry spell?”
He shrugged. “Was just keeping the night open for you.”
“Sorry to disappoint,” she said. “But don't worryâI doubt you'll have
any
trouble finding some bubbleheaded badge bunny who'll fall for that famous âcharm' of yours.”
Ah, hell, she's even gone with the finger quotes.
Gabe chuckled, but before he could say another word, she offered him a teasing grin and followed the douche-suit outside, leaving Gabe standing in the doorway smiling like an idiot.
God, if she only knew how she slayed him with every rejection. The woman was torture. Absolute torture.
As soon as Gabe returned to their table, Chris whistled. “Damn, man, you weren't kidding. I've had convicts look at me with more love than that. What the hell did you do to piss Elle off?”