Trouble Walks In (2 page)

Maddy had made up her mind to hail a cab by the time she reached the sidewalk, but when she saw who was waiting for her, she stopped short.

Not much surprised her in Manhattan anymore—she'd seen just about everything in her year living here, including a woman walking a ferret on a leash, a naked homeless guy streaking down Park Avenue, and an old man strolling through Central Park with a squawking parrot on his shoulder.

But she never expected to find
this
.

Standing beside a lamppost, brimming with confidence and with his K-9 partner by his side, was Ronan McGuire. Dressed in his dark-blue NYPD uniform, he looked every bit the ruggedly handsome hero that he was. His cap obscured her view of his thick ebony hair, but those pale-bluish-green eyes peered at her from beneath a furrowed brow. His tall, broad-shouldered frame was covered from head to toe against the bitter air, and the bulletproof vest he wore only served to accentuate his size.

How did Ronan manage to look devastatingly gorgeous in a standard-issue uniform? She'd seen plenty of other cops in this city, but not one of them hummed with masculine sexuality the way Ronan did. He reeked of calm control and steely strength. On the surface, he was cool and steady, but beneath was a distinctly powerful energy. She knew, without a doubt, that he could burst into action in a split second.

The guys brushing past her on Park Avenue, the ones dressed in thousand-dollar suits, didn't look half as sexy as Ronan did in his uniform.

I bet he looks pretty good out of it too.

Bowser, an enormous bloodhound who seemed to delight in startling Maddy whenever possible, barked loudly. She flinched as Ronan's constant companion interrupted her naughty train of thought, and her face heated. How long had she been standing there staring at him? Based on the slight smirk curving Ronan's lips, it was longer than she'd like to admit.

“Hey,” Maddy said, trying to collect herself. She crossed the sidewalk to greet Ronan but kept a healthy distance from the two of them. “What are you doing here? Did you just happen to be in the neighborhood? Because if I'm not mistaken, this isn't your usual haunting ground.”

“This is most definitely
not
my neighborhood. Too rich for my blood,” Ronan scoffed. He gathered Bowser's leash, wrapping it around his hand, before he pushed himself off the post and inched closer. “Our shift starts in a couple of hours. We came to check on you.”

Her gaze flicked briefly to Bowser. He was staring at her as usual. She had never met an animal as tuned in to people as he was. But then, he was a search-and-rescue K-9, so tuning in was part of his job.

“Me?” Maddy stilled. “I'm fine, really,” she said in a shakier voice than she expected.

Even
she
didn't believe it.
Nope. Not okay.

“Your friend was murdered, and you just attended her funeral.” Ronan leaned in and lowered his voice. “Don't give me that. There's not a damn
fine
thing about this whole crappy situation.”

Something in Maddy's chest crumbled a little at the tenderness in his voice. How long had it been since someone had expressed concern for her well-being? It felt like forever. Still, she suspected there was more to it than that.

“You've seen things like this before,” Maddy whispered. “Does it ever get any easier?”

“No,” he said quietly. Bowser whined and licked Ronan's hand in a sweet, almost reassuring gesture. “Sucks every time. Nothing easy about it.”

Ronan and Bowser had been part of searches that ended badly. He'd obviously been affected by those experiences, and knowing that he'd remained unjaded by the cruelty of his job somehow made him even more attractive.

Bowser, who was sitting dutifully at Ronan's feet, let out a low whine and snuffled loudly. Sometimes Maddy was convinced that dog was more human than half the people in this city.

“No…I don't imagine there would be.” Maddy adjusted the purse slung over her shoulder, trying to squash a fresh swell of emotion. She pulled her leather gloves from her pocket and tugged them on while avoiding Ronan's inquisitive stare. “I mean, it's sad. It's beyond sad, the whole situation is horrible, but—”

“What are you doing now?” he asked abruptly. “Everyone else is gone. Since you're still here, I'm figuring that you opted not to go on to the burial. And knowing you, that means you're going back to work.”

Maddy opened her mouth to argue with him but snapped it shut. He'd hit the nail on the head. Ronan's lopsided grin widened.

“I-I have work to do,” she sputtered.

“Really?” He tilted his head and narrowed those beautiful eyes. They looked more blue today than green.

“Yes, really.”

“Because if I had to guess, I'd say you were gonna go back to that fancy office of yours and stare at your computer or surf the Internet. Maybe play some solitaire or Candy Crush?”

Why, oh why, does he have to be so damn observant?

Maddy wasn't sure if it was comforting or irritating to have someone see her so clearly. Maybe it was both? She had started to get used to the anonymity of this city, the sense of disconnection from other people. She'd left Old Brookfield to give herself distance from Rick's memory and the well-meaning but meddlesome members of her small community.

No one here knew her past, or even cared enough to ask. Her life in Manhattan was strictly business, which made her feel safely cocooned, sheltered from painful memories. She remained insulated from having to dig past surface pleasantries. Ronan wasn't like that. He was a cop, and his desire to find the truth was evident in everything he did.

“Well, smarty-pants.” Maddy folded her arms over her breasts, suddenly feeling exposed. “For your information, I don't play Candy Crush.”

“Farm Heroes?” he asked playfully.

“No,” Maddy said through a bubble of laughter. She swatted him on the arm and tried not to smile while avoiding his gaze. “I don't do any of that stuff.”

“How about coffee?” He offered his arm and jutted his head toward the corner. “You do that, don't you?”

“Yes,” Maddy said slowly. She flicked her gaze to his elbow and sighed dramatically. “You aren't gonna quit until I agree to go, are you?”

“Nope.” His grin widened. “After all these years, you should know how persistent we McGuire boys are. Carolyn and Charles didn't raise any quitters.”

“I can see that.”

“C'mon, and I won't even try to pretend it's a date,” Ronan prodded. He wobbled his elbow at her. “Don't make me look bad in front of Bowser.”

“Well, I certainly wouldn't want to be responsible for that,” she said dramatically. “Coffee it is.”

Maddy slipped her arm through his and shivered, the warmth of his body seeping through the layers of wool. Her gut reaction was to snuggle deeper against him and his rock-hard body, but she resisted, straightening her back. She couldn't afford to dip beneath the surface and touch the raw emotions lingering there. That would get her nowhere, and she refused to be reduced to a weepy woman in the middle of the street. If Ronan noticed her subtle shift away from him, he didn't comment on it.

They walked in silence, arm in arm, with the bloodhound trotting dutifully at Ronan's side. They approached a Starbucks, but instead of crossing Fifty-Sixth Street, Ronan led her straight toward one of the street vendors.

“It'll have to be coffee and a walk.” He jutted a thumb at his partner. “Starbucks isn't big on having dogs in their establishments. Besides, our squad car is parked around the corner. How about coffee and a ride home?”

“That's fine by me.” Maddy sucked in a deep breath of cold air. “Sitting in a crowded coffee shop with half the population on their laptops doesn't sound appealing. But a walk sounds great.”

“I thought you'd say that.” He nudged her gently and smirked. “But don't worry, I know you're not a cheap date.”

“It's not a date. It's coffee.” Maddy kept her tone light. “We've already been through this, McGuire. I'm not dating anyone, so don't take it personally.”

“Can't blame a guy for trying.”

They stopped at the truck, and she slipped her arm from his before quickly shoving her hands in the pockets of her coat. The cold air slithered under her clothes with surprising speed as the warmth of his body against hers became a memory. Ronan made quick work of ordering their coffee and, to her surprise, knew exactly how she took it.

“I know it's not that fancy French stuff you like, but it'll do in a pinch.”

“Impressive,” Maddy said, taking the steaming cup from his hand. “You nailed it.”

“I pay attention.” Ronan slid a sidelong glance at her while he handed money to the guy in the truck. “We've been going for a run followed by coffee almost every week for months. What kind of a cop would I be if I couldn't even remember how you take your coffee?”

“You love being right, don't you?” She tilted her chin, daring him to deny it.

“Yes.” Ronan inched closer, cradling his cup in one hand and holding Bowser's leash in the other. Confident and in total control as always. “But
especially
when it comes to you.”

She was about to ask him what exactly he meant by that, but Bowser started walking toward the corner. They strolled side by side, but she kept her eyes on the pedestrians ahead of them. If she looked at Ronan, he might get a peek at the conflicting swirl of emotions currently running through her.

“Okay, explain, please.” Maddy shivered again, but not from the cold. “Why do you want to be right when it comes to me?”

“Because you're this big, bad businesswoman who acts like she's got it all under control.”

“And I don't?” She let out a short laugh. “Gee, thanks.”

“That's not what I said, and definitely not what I meant.”

They stopped at the corner. Maddy was about to cross, but Ronan grabbed her arm, pulling her back just as a car blew through the light. If it hadn't been for him, she would have gotten hit.

“Shit,” Maddy hissed. “Damn taxi drivers.”

She turned her eyes to his, and his grip on her tightened, almost imperceptibly. Maddy's heart thundered in her chest. Was it from the near miss with the cab, or the feel of Ronan's fingers curled around her bicep?

“I like surprising you,” he said quietly. Bowser made a snuffling sound and sat between them, but Ronan didn't take his eyes off hers. “How am I doing so far?”

“Today?” Maddy asked quietly. “Well, to be honest, you shocked the hell out of me by showing up at the church. Why did you come?”

“Are you serious?” His brows furrowed. “I thought that would be obvious.”

“Not to me.” Maddy shook her head slowly and studied him, clutching the cardboard coffee cup with both hands.

“I figured it would be a tough day for you.” His mouth set in a tight line before he completed the thought she could practically see floating over his head. “Going to the funeral couldn't have been easy, and I thought you could use a friend. I didn't think you'd want to be alone.”

“I didn't,” she whispered. “Thank you.”

The wind blew over them, sending her hair flying into her eyes. It was perfect timing, making the tears that welled up easy enough to explain away. Maddy tugged the strands of hair aside and nodded before turning her attention to the passing cars.

“See, Bowser?” Ronan scratched the bloodhound's head, which elicited a loud bark from the dog. “Right again.”

Maddy burst out laughing in spite of the surge of emotion and wiped discreetly at her eyes. “No one likes a know-it-all, McGuire.”

“Maybe not,” he said with a wide grin. “But I still surprised you. Come on, the light changed. Let's cross before another taxi tries to run you over.”

As they made their way to the safety of the other side, Maddy had a feeling that there would be more surprises where Ronan was concerned.

That was the part that frightened her.

Ronan McGuire loved women, and until recently, he'd enjoyed a variety of them. All of that had changed when Maddy Morgan came roaring back into his life. The moment he'd laid eyes on her at his parent's anniversary party last summer, it had been like a kick in the gut. She was as gorgeous as she'd been back in high school, and just as unattainable. As far as she'd been concerned, he had merely been the pesky brother of her best friend's boyfriend.

Ronan would see her around town when he went home to visit over the years, but nothing had changed and she was still out of his reach. Maddy and Rick had been practically joined at the hip for years. Ronan was many things, but a home wrecker wasn't one of them. Rick had been a good guy and he seemed to make Maddy happy, so that had been good enough for Ronan. He had never considered himself the jealous type, but every time he saw the two of them together, the green-eyed monster would rear its ugly head.

When had he first fallen for her? If he had to nail it down, it was when she punched out Billy Hollibrand in the school parking lot. Maddy was feisty—a take-no-shit kind of girl—and if you asked Ronan's mother, that was exactly the type of woman he needed. Hollibrand had been the town bully, and when Maddy moved there in ninth grade, Billy made the mistake of trying to push her around. The jerkoff made fun of her curly hair and grabbed her ass. Two seconds later, the boy was on the ground nursing a bloody nose.

A smile curved Ronan's lips at the memory.

“Yo, McGuire.” His captain's voice pulled him from his daydreaming. “You awake over there?”

Bowser was lying in his bed next to Ronan's desk, but he lifted his head and turned his brown eyes toward Ronan when the captain approached. If Ronan didn't know better, he'd swear the dog was laughing at him.

“Wide awake, Cap.” Ronan adjusted his chair as Bowser settled his snout on his front paws again. “Can't say the same for my partner.”

Bowser whined and made a snuffling sound before closing his eyes. Ronan couldn't really blame the dog—he was pretty beat himself. They had gotten back-to-back calls from two departments upstate. Not all of the counties in the state had K-9s, so he and Bowser helped out when necessary, lending a hand—or a paw—as needed.

Both cases had been high-stress with even higher stakes.

Luckily the little girl who had wandered away from her family's campsite was found safely, and so was the teenager who got separated from her friends on a hike. She must have been the only teen girl in the tristate area who didn't have a damn cell phone attached to her. Needless to say, it had been long days and longer nights, but both searches ended with happy parents.

Captain Jenkins strolled over, hoisting his uniform pants over his belly. The guy might be out of shape and only a couple years from retirement, but he was one of the best cops Ronan had worked with. Jenkins and his partner, Saratoga, a sweet bloodhound with wide, caramel-colored eyes, were in-house most of the time these days. Saratoga was retired, but like all K-9s, she would live out the rest of her days with her partner and his family. In Jenkins's case, that was only him.

“Why are you and Bowser here?” Jenkins settled his hands on his hips and pointed at Bowser just as Saratoga sidled over and lay down next to her friend. “You two have been goin' nonstop for the past three days. You should have taken today off, and you know it.”

“No can do, Cap.” Ronan hit a few buttons on the keyboard and printed out his report from the last search. “My brother is getting married in a few weeks, and I'll be out for a while. I'll be using up the rest of my time for the year, and I can't risk not being able to go because I didn't do my paperwork. I'm the best man after all.”

“That you are, McGuire,” Jenkins said through a snort of laughter. “But all work and no play, and you're gonna end up like me and Sara here. All we got is each other and this damn job. No wife, no kids. Just me and her.” He smiled at the aging bloodhound who currently had her head nestled on top of Bowser's. “Ain't that right, sweetie?”

The old girl whined in response but didn't move.

“Seriously, McGuire,” Jenkins said, sitting in the chair in front of Ronan's desk. “You coulda taken today, y'know. You sure as hell have enough time left over.”

“Really, Cap.” Ronan shook his head and held up one hand. “I'm fine.”

“Right. You always are.” Jenkins's mouth set in a thin line. “How's your friend? Didn't you say that your girlfriend, that real estate agent lady, knew the Bowman woman they found by the river?”

“She's not my girlfriend. Maddy's just an old friend from back home.” Ronan went to the printer and grabbed the reports. “But yes, she knew Lucille Bowman, at least casually. Maddy's a broker, and they ran in some of the same professional circles.”

“Well, tell your
friend
to watch her ass.”

Ronan stilled and carefully placed the reports on his desk. A knot of dread curled in his gut, and the serious expression on the captain's face didn't do anything to ease it.

“They think the murder was somehow connected to Lucille's job?” Ronan let out a slow breath. “Shit.”

“Don't know yet.” Jenkins folded his hands on top of his round belly. “All they know right now is she was supposed to show an apartment on the West Side—an open house or something—and she never made it. Hell, those real estate people have all their contact info online now. It's easy to find someone and track 'em down, if you want to.”

“What are they thinking?” Ronan's gut clenched.

“Husband ain't good for it,” Jenkins said. “His alibi is airtight. No affairs, financials are in order. Whoever did this knew her though—or at least knew where she was going. Hell, she obviously didn't get dragged through the streets of the city kicking and screaming, so odds are that she knew the perp in some way. They're still waiting on toxicology. You know that shit takes forever.”

“Damn it.” Ronan ran one hand over his face and sat in his chair. “Maddy is always doing those open houses. Not to mention the running around she does for individual appointments. She works her ass off. You'd think that her life depended on it.” He let out a slow sigh. “Hell, she lives and breathes it.”

“You'd know somethin' about that. Wouldn't ya?”

“It's not the same thing, Cap. Those rich, fancy clients of hers love her because she drops everything to get them what they need. The woman is nothing if not tenacious.”

“I guess that includes resisting your charms, eh, McGuire?” Jenkins laughed and wagged a finger at Ronan. “You
like
this broad, so don't even try to deny it.”

“Of course I do. We're friends.”

“Yeah but you wanna be more than friends.” Jenkins raised his salt-and-pepper eyebrows. “You know how I can tell?”

“No.” Ronan stapled the reports and busied himself, trying not to let Jenkins know how right he was. “Enlighten me.”

“Ever since
she
came to town, you haven't been out on a
single
date.” Jenkins hoisted his rotund form out of the chair with a groan. “And for a guy who seemed to have a different date almost every Saturday night for the past several years, that seems a bit odd. Don't ya think?”

“Careful, Cap.” Ronan winked and extended the two finished reports to his superior. “You sound jealous.”

“Some detective you are.” Jenkins made a snort of derision and snagged the papers from Ronan. “Not jealous, more like impressed. I can't remember the last time I went out on a date…and believe me, it ain't for lack of effort. A good-lookin' guy like you could be out with any woman he wanted. And here you are, pining away for the
one
broad in this city who turned you down.”

“See?” Ronan leaned back in his chair and laced his fingers behind his head. “You're working under the assumption that I've asked her out—for an actual date, that is. I'm still in the game.”

“Sounds like you're on the bench.” Jenkins narrowed his pale-brown eyes. “You haven't actually asked her out? You been joggin' with this woman all the freakin' time. What's the holdup?”

“I told you, man. We're just friends.” Ronan shrugged. “Period. End of story.”

“Bullshit,” Jenkins snorted. “I may be old-fashioned, but men and women can't
only
be friends. Not really.”

“Whatever, man.” Ronan sighed and dropped his hands onto the arms of his chair. He would never win that argument with his captain. “It's complicated, okay?”

“You mean because of the dead boyfriend?”

“Real sensitive, Cap.” Ronan gave him a sarcastic thumbs-up. “His name was Rick, and he was a firefighter in our hometown. He bought it on the job. I knew him, okay? He was a good guy.”

“Right… That sucks,” Jenkins said slowly. “But with all due respect, she can't date a dead guy, and his memory ain't gonna keep her warm at night.”

“Come on, Cap,” Ronan persisted. “They were practically married and were together for years, like almost a decade. It seems shady to be hitting on her so soon after something like that. I'm being her friend, which is exactly what she needs.”

“Maybe, but it sounds like an excuse to me.” Jenkins snapped his fingers at his dog. “Come on, Saratoga. Let's go, girl. It's time to head home.”

“Why would I need an excuse?” Ronan shouted after him.

“Easy,” Jenkins barked over his shoulder. “If you don't ask, then she can't turn you down.”

Ronan had no response to that. The son of a bitch was absolutely right. He hadn't come right out and asked Maddy on a date because he was pretty sure she'd say no. Plus, why would he want to make it weird between them, especially before the wedding? That wouldn't be fair to his brother and Jordan. The last complication they needed was awkwardness between the best man and the maid of honor.

He went to shut his computer down, and the Bowman case came to mind. A knot formed in his gut. Like the investigating officers, he suspected that Lucille knew her killer—at least enough to go off with him without raising an alarm. But on the other hand, the New York City real estate market was massive. The odds were probably slim that Maddy knew this guy too, whoever he was.

Slim chance or not, Ronan was going to have a chat with her about safety precautions. Bowser yawned loudly before stretching and rising to his feet.

“What do you think, buddy?” The bloodhound came over and laid his head in Ronan's lap, as though asking to get the hell out of there. “Think Maddy will listen to advice from me and take the proper precautions?”

Bowser snuffled loudly and sat on his haunches.

“Yeah,” Ronan said, laughing softly. “Me neither. But that won't stop me from trying.”

* * *

Maddy discreetly checked the time on her phone before turning her attention back to the young couple whispering with each other in the kitchen. Mrs. Bartholomew loved the place and Mr. Bartholomew wasn't entirely sold, but if Maddy had to bet, the wife was going to win.

While at an unorthodox time, the Friday-evening open house was turning out to be one of her busiest in the past month. Brenda was supposed to assist Maddy tonight to get a little more experience under her belt, but she'd never showed. The girl was new and eager to please, but flaking out on this event was not cool. Maddy loathed reprimanding people, but a lecture was coming Brenda's way. The beautiful blond was barely out of college. Might she have blown off work for a better offer and a hot date? The company had taken a chance with bringing someone so young and green into the office.

It looked like they had made a mistake, but Maddy hoped like hell the girl had a good reason for not showing up. A smile curved her lips. Terrence, her boss and the owner of Cosmopolitan Realty, would surely tell her to give Brenda another chance. His compassion and strong ethical code were the two main reasons she had signed on with his company. His business was about people, not just making the sale, which was unusual in the cutthroat real estate world.

Maddy had come to this city to live without emotional attachments, but time and again, she found herself getting suckered in. She couldn't help it. The city might be cold and unemotional, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't be.

Letting out a sigh, she checked her phone again. There was no answer to the text she'd sent Brenda, and no missed calls.
Perfect.
Managing staff and juggling personalities was Maddy's least favorite part of the business. She used to tell Rick she was fine not having kids, because she knew plenty of adults who acted like children. Maybe she was being too hard on the girl and too quick to judge.

She pictured herself scolding Brenda, but Maddy knew the fantasy would have to suffice. She'd never do it in real life. One look into Brenda's sweet, wide-eyed apologetic face, and Maddy would be telling the girl not to worry about it.

I'm a sucker.

Handling the open house on her own wasn't difficult. She could run events like this with her eyes closed. But it had been busy. The spacious Upper West Side penthouse had only been on the market for a week, and the owners were eager to sell. That typically happened with a divorce. Since they were so eager, Maddy had set up a Friday-night open house to go with the one on Sunday, but based on the interest tonight, the place could be sold by then.

God bless the Internet.

She'd done damn well in the Old Brookfield beachfront market, and many of those wealthy clients who'd bought summer property lived and worked in the city. Transitioning to the New York City market had been surprisingly easy.

Besides, her favorite part of being a real estate agent was helping people find the place they would call home. The one space where they could kick off their shoes, snuggle up on the couch, and find shelter from the world and their worries. It was the most satisfying part of her job.