The Hunk Next Door (7 page)

“You’re sure they didn’t just get lucky?”

“I’m sure the tracks were deliberately concealed.” She blotted her lips and set the napkin next to her plate. “I need to think about something else. More lasagna?”

“Twist my arm,” he said, reaching for the pan. “What’s the secret with the sauce?”

“If I told you, it wouldn’t be a secret.”

“Tell me anyway. You’ll feel better.”

“I feel fine now.”

“But there’s so much more to life than ‘fine,’” he teased with a wink.

She opened her mouth but whatever she’d been about to say was cut off by a loud crash outside. They were both on their feet in an instant. He followed her as she raced through the house and out the front door.

Across the street, a man was caught under an extension ladder, a reel of brightly colored Christmas lights still blinking in his hand. Riley swore, reaching for his cell phone to dial 911 while Abby kept running. Mrs. Wilks and others were soon in the street, wondering how to help and speculating on what happened.

* * *

A
BBY TOLD HERSELF
this was only an accident as she ran across the street. Letting her instincts take over, she shouted for blankets and they appeared moments later.

“An ambulance is on the way,” Riley said, appearing beside her. “Hang in there,” he said to the man under the ladder.

“Well, this is a fine way to meet your neighbors,” Abby said briskly. “Riley O’Brien, this is Roy Calder.”

“Everyone calls me Calder. Wish I could say it was a pleasure,” he added through gritted teeth.

“Does it hurt everywhere?” Riley took the lights out of Calder’s grip.

“Yeah.”

“Good.”

“Riley!” Abby pushed him back. “What are you doing?”

“He’s right,” Calder said. “Feeling everything means my back’s in one piece.”

“Oh.” She hadn’t thought of the injuries in terms of potential paralysis. “That is good.” Abby rubbed the chill from her arms, accepting a coat that appeared from somewhere. Mrs. Wilks was cheerfully scolding their neighbor for working without a net.

“I was almost done,” he defended. “Anyone see the bastard who pushed the ladder?”

Abby shivered with a chill that had nothing to do with the cold. “What did you say, Calder?”

“I’m not an idiot, Chief, despite the looks of this. Someone brought me down on purpose.”

She looked around the scene wondering who might have done such a terrible thing. All she saw were the familiar faces of her neighbors looking as stunned as she felt. “Did you get a look?”

“No more than a glimpse of a dark knit cap when I felt something at the ladder.”

“Back everyone up,” she said to Riley, hoping he could manage crowd control. She wished she’d remembered to grab her phone. She was going to need someone to help her walk the area and look for evidence. But first things first. She knelt beside Calder again. “What did you hear?”

Calder groaned a little, either thinking about it or just struggling to breathe. “A crunch. Boots on the landscaping.”

“Okay. Good.” Calder’s wife used white rock in the flower beds. Covered in snow, the assailant must have miscalculated. “What else? A car? A bike?”

“No. That’s about it. I was falling before I could even shout at him to stop.”

She looked at Calder’s house. “Did he come from your left or right?”

“The left.” Calder groaned again. “Christ. Libby will kill me. I wanted to get this done for her tonight.”

“Maybe I should question her,” Abby said, teasing him. Libby was known as one of the gentlest people in Belclare. And she was seven months pregnant with their second child.

Calder’s laughter turned into a cough. “I’m sure she feels she has cause to do me harm more days than not.”

Abby pasted a smile on her face as the paramedics arrived and took over. As she backed out of the way, she hit an immovable wall. Before she could apologize, she felt warm hands on her shoulders, steadying her. “Easy. I’ve got you.”

Riley. His touch was somehow calming. But that didn’t last long. Anger, shock and worry spun like a wild tornado in her belly as Calder was moved first to the backboard and then to the ambulance.

When the ambulance was gone, Abby walked toward the landscaping to have a look.

“You should go inside,” Riley said from right behind her.

“No.” She faced him. This close, she had to tip her head back to meet his gaze. “He thinks someone pushed the ladder. I need to call in some help and check out the scene.”

His eyes narrowed and his mouth, usually so quick with that wry grin, turned into a dark frown. He handed her his phone. “Make the call. I’ll clear out the spectators.”

He managed the task efficiently and politely, turning down offers to help clean up the mess while she explained the situation to the officer on duty at the station.

When Riley returned, the street was eerily quiet. “Here.” He handed her a heavy flashlight. “Figured you’d need that.”

“Thanks.” She wasn’t sure what she hoped to find, but it wasn’t the nasty note scrawled on the siding of Calder’s house: “One down. Who’s next?”

“Not paint. Looks like charcoal,” Riley observed.

“Guess Calder was right about being pushed.”
Open season on Belclare.
The media would be showing that all night long and as soon as the word got around about this, the rest of the town would know Calder was in the hospital because of her.

Her stomach clutched and she nearly tossed her dinner right there at the scene. Anger jolted her. She’d never come close to contaminating a crime scene in her career. “Damn it. If they want me, they should come at
me.
”

“They want you to suffer.”

Knowing he was right made her feel worse. “What am I supposed to do, leave town? How would that help anyone?”

“That might be the most important question.”

She glared at him, wishing the light was better. “You sound more like a cop than a carpenter.”

“From you, I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“It wasn’t meant that way.”

“Too bad. I’d think you know from experience that very few people do bad things for the fun of it.” He flashed the light on the grim message again. “It’s kind of obvious someone is trying to get under your skin.”

To her ultimate frustration, it was working.

She didn’t know what to make of her new neighbor. He had a presence people responded to, herself included. His easygoing manners didn’t quite fit with his critical thinking. And how insensitive of her to think a guy with a tool belt had only one dimension.

She had enough experience with people to know better, but something about Riley was different. Something more than the way her body went hot when he was close. Whatever else she felt, this was hardly the time to address her physical attraction to him.

“Do you see any footprints?” The beam from the flashlight sliced through the darkness as she searched for anything helpful.

“Too many,” he answered.

That new urge to scream returned with a vengeance. She wouldn’t give the people behind these hateful acts the satisfaction. Whatever system she’d disrupted with the drug bust, the criminals were playing hardball now. She’d read the emails and threats in chat rooms about retaliation that involved taking out innocent civilians. Until now, she’d thought it was so much smoke and hot air.

They were lucky Calder hadn’t been paralyzed or even killed.

When she found the person responsible—and she silently vowed to do just that—she would see them rot behind bars.

When an investigative team arrived, Abby relinquished the scene as soon as she brought them up to speed. With her head spinning, she would only impede their progress. Belclare deserved the best from their police department.

Trudging back across the street, she could almost hear the gossip chasing her. The graffiti on the welcome sign was bad enough. As word spread about Calder she’d be lucky if Mayor Scott didn’t fire her at the next town council meeting.

He didn’t exactly have the authority, but that wouldn’t stop the posturing. And the posturing would weaken her position. Reaching her front door, she glanced back over her shoulder one last time, but the view of Calder’s house was blocked by Riley’s wide shoulders. “What are you doing?”

“Relax.” He rubbed a hand gently across her shoulder, making her want to lean in for a hug. “I was going to help you clean up the kitchen.”

“No, thanks. You’ve done more than enough to help me tonight.” This time she
was
praising him and he shuffled his feet, apparently uncomfortable with the compliment. Interesting.

“Let’s try again tomorrow.” He signaled to the Hamiltons’ house. “At my place.”

She sighed. Being around her wasn’t smart. The vandals and Calder’s attacker proved that. “I can’t tell if you’re brave or a glutton for punishment.”

“A guy could say the same about you,” he replied with a grin.

No. Most men said different things about her. Aside from Deke, Riley was the first man who seemed to see beyond her title and badge. She caught the flash of cameras across the street and hoped her detectives were coming up with something useful.

“Tomorrow night I have plans.” If she had the courage to explore a new path in her relationship with Deke. She’d been looking forward to the potential with the artist. Now, with a new neighbor bent on hovering, it seemed she might have a choice. Did she want one?

Right now she wanted some quiet. “Thanks for your help, Riley.”

He nodded, gracing her with a slow smile she found so much more attractive than his grin. “Be sure to lock your doors.”

“I think that’s my line.”

“Not tonight, Abby. I’m right next door if you need me.”

Baffled by the temptation he presented, she escaped into her house, throwing the dead bolt and security chain. She didn’t need to look to know he’d waited to be sure she locked up.

In the kitchen, she checked the lock on the back door and pulled the curtains. As she cleaned up dinner, her thoughts wandered between Deke and Riley and she told herself it was an exercise in distraction. It would be years before that horrible image of Calder under the ladder faded from her memory.

Ruthlessly, she forced her mind to lighter issues. As much as she enjoyed Deke, Riley stirred some new, previously undefined feminine flutter. Her girlfriends would blame it on the tool belt, and they might have a point. He had good hands, too, broad and strong.

And warm, she remembered, thinking of how he’d touched her when the ambulance arrived.

She was smart enough to know better, wise enough to look past the handsome face and sexy features to the man underneath. Yet she entertained a purely physical fantasy as she headed upstairs to bed.

What in the world was going on with her? The man was a stranger....

And, with an unknown enemy haunting her, a stranger was the last thing she needed in her life right now.

Chapter Six

“Sir, a call.”

Deke set aside his novel. The sitting room where he chatted weekly with Abby had become his favorite place to plan and strategize. He watched the fire in the hearth, waiting until his assistant had pulled the door closed before dealing with the caller, “Yes?”

“I went by, but she had company.”

“Explain,” Deke replied. The news startled him at first. Abby never had company. He knew her habits as well as his own.

“I drove by with the channel open and I heard voices.”

This was no cause for alarm. Her company was likely just a brief visit with her neighbor. The older woman played mother to the entire block. She would have heard about the vandalism and come by to offer moral support.

It couldn’t be allowed to continue. Deke needed Abby to come to him. He’d been waiting for hours for her to show up and cry on his shoulder—or in the manner more suitable to Abby—ask his advice. With the fear he’d incited among the citizens of her beloved town, he’d made himself her only friend in this dumpy, godforsaken place and his patience was growing thin.

“I waited and then came in closer,” his employee continued. “Looks like the guy from one of those setup teams. The one who’s been working at the department. They looked pretty cozy.”

The guy?
Cozy?
Deke’s hand clutched the upholstered arm of his chair. That couldn’t be possible. She wouldn’t take the risk. He’d thoughtfully and carefully nurtured her paranoia to the point that she didn’t trust anyone.

“Find out who he is. I want everything you can find on him.”

“I’m on it.”

What could she be thinking? The idea of his trophy, his
reward,
spending her time with one of the temporary workers passing through town, set his temper blazing. He didn’t fight it, letting it burn, vaporizing the haze of his misplaced esteem and affection for Abigail Jensen. She was now his enemy with no potential for redemption.

“Updates every hour. I want pictures, as well.”

“Already handled.”

“Really?” Deke knew better than to ask how. It was satisfying to have something going right. The people he hired quickly learned about his zero tolerance for failure. He supposed he owed the man some encouragement. “This afternoon’s vandalism was good work.”

“Thank you.”

“You can trust them to keep quiet?” Deke wondered about the misfits the man had hired to deface the town’s historic welcome sign.

“I don’t trust anyone that much.”

“Good.” It was the tacit confirmation he wanted that the vandals were dead. Dead men didn’t tell tales. “I’ll leave you to it.”

The call ended and Deke walked to the window that overlooked the water. It was a worthy view of the quaint little town when the moon was full. Tonight it was dull and gray, the sky full of clouds. Mother Nature seemed all too willing to accommodate Belclare’s hope for a fresh blanket of picturesque snow to kick off their annual event.

The only good thing about the tourist season was the potential for more victims and even more suspects. The police department would have no rest until the next shipment was safely through. And when he was done with Abigail Jensen, when she was thoroughly ruined and dead at his feet, Deke promised himself he would move from this insipid place. He wanted to find somewhere with more space and more sunshine to go with his anonymity.