She Can Tell (11 page)

Muffled thumps floated through a haze of sleep. She surfaced to a still-dark room. Not morning yet. Closing her eyes, she burrowed deeper into her pillow and waited for slumber. But sleep would not come. Heat built under the heavy quilt. She pushed the covers away and rose from her bed, clutching her favorite stuffed bear under one arm. Cool air caressed the hot, damp skin of her face, but the shock of her bare feet hitting the cold hardwood sent a shiver through her limbs. She anchored a lock of sweaty hair behind one ear as she moved toward the door.

Something scraped outside her window. Her arms sprouted goose bumps as she turned, her eyes wide, searching the darkness beyond the glass for the source. Another scrape. A branch?

Dread and curiosity twisted her insides. Her throat tightened, the breaths rasping in and out like sandpaper. She swallowed painfully in a dry throat. She
had
to know. As soon as she saw that it was nothing, she’d be able to go back to sleep.

She put on her robe and slippers, then tiptoed out of her bedroom, down the hall, to the kitchen door. The door eased open with a faint squeak. Her breaths fogged in and out, the cold-crisp air
soothing her throat and feverish skin. Snowflakes drifted in the still, pretty night. Everything was fine. She’d had a bad dream.

She opened her mouth to catch one on her tongue and froze when she heard the scrape of a boot on frozen earth. Her jaw slammed shut, and her head swiveled toward the noise.

A hooded form stood across the icy yard. Something dark and red dropped from a large, gloved hand. Thick as cherry Jell-O, it fell in a wet lump to the white-dusted grass next to his boot. Wet, dark stains the color of rust dotted the ground around him.

She froze, paralyzed except for trembling legs that threatened to collapse. The scream clawed its way out of her chest and lodged in her throat, choking her.

The man’s head swiveled toward her. Instead of eyes, a black hole stared back. She couldn’t see his eyes, but she
knew
he was watching her, sensed it with the same primitive knowledge that warned a rabbit of a wolf’s hungry glare.

Pain zinged through Rachel’s knees as she hit the wood floor. She straightened her fingers, still clenched around the edges of the sheets she’d dragged off the bed with her. One hand pushed her damp hair off her face as her heart pounded. She inhaled and held her breath for a few seconds to gain control. She glanced at the window. A hint of dawn hovered on the horizon.

Her own personal boogeyman hadn’t visited her dreams in a decade. Last night’s nasty incident in her well house must have triggered a spin-off of her childhood nightmares.

But damn. He was still as terrifying as he’d been when she was six.

She headed for a hot shower in a pathetic attempt to wash all evidence of the foul dream away. She reached in and turned the faucet before the lack of spray reminded her that she had no water. Last night, after Mike had left, she’d showered at Mrs. Holloway’s house and gratefully
accepted her neighbor’s emergency stash of bottled water.

She crossed her fingers that the well repairman came as early as he promised and that he could fix the pump on the spot.

She brewed a pot of coffee. Bandit zoomed into the kitchen and went into his impression of a furry pogo stick. She grabbed his collar and opened the back door. She drew back. In her driveway, Mike was getting out of his SUV.

What the—?

Bandit wiggled out of her grip and tore across the yard.

Mike stood still as the dog skidded to a stop a few feet away. Head low, Bandit approached him slowly and sniffed his shoes. Satisfied the dog wasn’t going to rip a small hole in his ankle, Rachel poured him a cup of coffee before walking out into the cool morning. Predawn mist floated over the surrounding meadows, a strange blend of eerie and peaceful.

He held a hand out to the pup and waited patiently as the dog put his paws on Mike’s knee and stretched out his nose. The dog was licking his hand when she handed him the coffee. He was unruffled by the dog spit bath, which made him even more attractive. Dammit. But his face looked even more haggard than it had been the night before. “Guess I pass.”

“Looks like.”

Mike gave the dog a scratch behind his ears. Bandit wagged his tail, then sniffed his way toward the big tree in the center of her back lawn. He lifted a hind leg.

Rachel kept one eye on the dog, but her other eye was busy watching Mike stretch his shoulders. Just because she couldn’t get involved with him didn’t mean she couldn’t enjoy the show. No uniform this morning. Instead, a navy
blue T-shirt outlined the heavy muscles of his broad shoulders and chest. He rubbed the back of his neck and winced as if it were stiff.

“Have you been here all night?”

A flush spread across his stubbled jaw as he looked away, avoiding both her question and her gaze. “I was concerned about your house’s lack of security.”

So, despite his irritation with her last night, he was worried about her. Rachel’s heart thudded. “So, you slept in my driveway?”

He lifted the mug to his lips and drank, no doubt stalling while he tried to formulate an appropriate answer. The police chief was a careful man who gave his words as much thought as his actions. Unlike Rachel,
he
was not prone to acting on impulse and regretting it later. A moment passed before he met her eyes, the resignation in his face a sign that he couldn’t think of a way to evade her question. “Well, I wasn’t here
all
night, and I didn’t actually sleep.”

“That wasn’t necessary.” Although maybe if she’d known he was here, acting as sentinel, the boogeyman wouldn’t have popped by for a visit. She eyeballed his bulging muscles. He certainly looked…
hot?
Ack, no. Capable. Keep it professional. The cop’s hotness was not in question. Because it was indisputable? This mental discussion was not going the way she wanted. God, she needed more caffeine. “But thank you.”

“Thanks for the coffee.” Shadows rimmed his eyes from two nights with little rest, two nights of sleep he’d lost protecting her and her family. A heavy sigh purred through his wide chest as he swallowed.

“It’s the least I could do.”

He leaned closer. A flash of desire cut through the exhaustion in those beautiful eyes. Rachel felt her own body
being pulled in as their gazes met. Warmth rushed south.
Whoa, Nellie
. He smelled good.

His gaze dropped to her lips. If she moved just a few inches forward, he’d kiss her. Then she could press her whole body against all that brawn. He’d wrap those beefy arms around her. Those big hands were as gentle as they were strong. She’d feel more than blazing sexual contact. She’d feel safe—and she’d be tempted to stay there. She ripped her focus away. Barely.

Displeasure flashed on his face before he pulled back and pokered up.

He stirred up too many feelings inside her for a fling. Plus, those eyes were just too serious. Mike wasn’t a one-nighter kind of guy, and Rachel was not up to another relationship. Especially with a man who couldn’t make up his mind. Granted, she fully realized she was a giant pain in the ass and could easily drive the bravest of men far away, but still. Last night he’d been all annoyed and distant, and this morning he was ready to kiss her. What was up with that?

Rachel turned toward the barn. The horses needed to be fed. No time to deal with the hot cop. She whistled for Bandit. The little dog trotted to her side, then raced ahead. “You should go home, He-Man. Even superheroes need sleep.”

She glanced over her shoulder and was rewarded by a sexy smile. She looked away as her face heated. A few other body parts got on board.

Behind her, his engine started, and she heard his vehicle bouncing down her disaster of a driveway. She lifted her chin. Her gaze locked on the barn, and her jaw dropped. Black tarpaulin covered every inch of graffiti. The cop hadn’t just sat in her drive all night. He’d saved her hours of work this morning.

She was in big, big trouble. Not only did He-Man make her girl parts hum, he made her feel all warm and fuzzy inside. A few hot, sweaty bouts of sex she could handle, but Rachel did not do warm and fuzzy. It just wasn’t worth the risk. Generally, people let her down when she needed them the most.

A jingling sound snapped her out of her musing. Bandit streaked out from behind the garage. Dirt covered his forelegs, and a muddy, dead rabbit dangled from his muzzle.

“Bandit!” Rachel started to sprint after him. The dog lowered his chest to the ground. Butt in the air, his feathery tail swept back and forth in a come-and-get-me wag.

“Bandit, be a good boy.” Rachel skidded to a stop and inched toward the dog slowly. “Drop it. I’ll give you a treat.”

Enjoying the game, Bandit pranced backward a few feet.

“Come on, boy,” Rachel said in a low, quiet voice. She stepped forward. The dog shot off around the barn, ears flapping and short legs churning in a brown blur. Rachel darted after him, trying to cut him off by looping around the other side of the building, but Bandit proved too quick to be caught. He faked a left and tore off in the opposite direction. Rachel circled. She hid behind the door and waited. Bandit sensed her presence, gave her a wide berth, and zoomed joyfully around the barnyard. Rachel stopped, hands on hips, and blew out a hard breath.

This was ridiculous. She had zero chance of catching the little bugger.

Hoping he’d get bored, she went to work. Friendly nickers and snorts greeted her as she entered the barn. She stopped at Lady’s stall and slipped a carrot from her pocket. The mare crunched placidly while Rachel stroked her neck.

Keeping one eye on the exit, she flipped on the lights and started measuring grain. Bandit’s head, complete with
dangling, decaying animal, peeked around the door frame. Rachel ignored him. He set the rabbit down and woofed. She moved from stall to stall dumping grain into feed buckets. Every time she passed within a couple of feet of him, he snatched the body and danced away. By the time she’d finished feeding the horses, the little dog lay in a dejected heap next to his disgusting prize. She walked past him out the door. Dog tags jingled at her heels. She glanced down. Empty mouthed, the dog trotted at her side. Could a dog look disappointed?

“Oh, no you don’t.” Rachel made a quick grab for his collar on the stoop. There wasn’t a square inch of fur that wasn’t dripping with mud. She tied him to the tree. “You’re a mess. And no way am I letting you lick any faces until I brush your teeth.”

He looked up at her. His ears drooped, and he made full use of his sad spaniel eyes.

“But I promise we’ll have a game of fetch later.” Rachel patted him on the head and put
bathe Bandit
on her to-do list. And she’d have to rebury the rabbit before the girls saw it. In a much deeper hole.

With a carefully schooled expression, Mike crossed the tiled lobby of the small county courthouse. Inside, anger was burning a hole through his gut. He turned down the hallway that led to the rear parking lot only to see Rachel Parker pacing outside the Family Court Administration Office.

Yowza.

Her usual uniform of worn jeans and ponytail were sexy enough, but since their dawn encounter, she’d changed into a slim skirt, a cotton blouse, and low heels. Mike’s gaze
dropped to her bare legs. Big mistake. They were as tight and toned as he’d suspected. He reluctantly lifted his eyes to her face. She’d downsized the Band-Aid on her cheek, and the bruise under it was faint. And her mouth… Her lips looked soft and ripe and tasty.

Her brows lifted and a slight smile pulled at one corner of her mouth. “Do I clean up OK?”

Mike blinked and cleared his throat. “Er, how did it go? Did she get the temporary order?”

“Don’t know yet. She’s been in there awhile. She wanted to do this solo.” Rachel raised her chin as if she were proud of that. “I assume he’s out on bail?”

“Troy was released on his own recognizance.”

Rachel’s jaw tightened. The humor slid from her face.

“No history of violence, close ties to the community, etcetera,” Mike said, disturbed that he had to work to keep his voice level. Yeah, he was annoyed with the judge, but he never had trouble with emotional control. Ever. Until he’d met Rachel.

“Damn. I don’t know why this is a surprise. I should’ve counted on Vince to play dirty.” She scowled, and the temper that lit her eyes made her sexier. What was wrong with him?

“He has to join Alcoholics Anonymous, attend twice-weekly meetings, and generally keep his nose clean until the next hearing.”

Rachel’s disgusted snort echoed Mike’s opinion. The conditions were simply a cover-your-ass move for the judge so it didn’t look like he was just letting the scumbag go to please an old crony friend, which was exactly what he was doing.

Rachel chewed her lip in silence. Mike searched her face. Something about her totally threw him off. He’d spent
half the night stapling tarps over the graffiti on her barn. Had to be a reason. Was it the way emotion played so transparently across her face? She was incapable of deception. Or the way her dark hair fell in loose, shining waves around her shoulders? It smelled like…He leaned a little closer. Her eyes widened, but she didn’t back down. No, she would never back down. Her eyes blazed with that sexy fire. Mike inhaled. Lemons. She smelled like lemons, all fresh and clean. The scent of her hair made him think of other body parts he’d like to sniff.