Chapter 6

SIX

STEPH HAD MANAGED to walk the chair over to the counter where the knives were and, with a lot of maneuvering and failed attempts, finally got the paring knife under the zip tie and cut it.

She grabbed her phone mid-ring, noted the caller, and slapped the device to her ear. “Tate! There’s a guy who’s looking for Brenda’s notebook. He broke into my home and now he’s looking for you and—”

“Are you okay?”

“Yes, yes, but you’ve got to be watching—”

“He’s already been here and gone. I’m okay, but he did get the book.”

She snapped her lips shut. “Oh.” She’d been too slow. Guilt slammed her hard. He could have been killed because she’d admitted she gave the book to him. “I’m so sorry. He knew I’d given you the book. I didn’t want to tell him, but he knew. He just forced me to confirm it.”

“I’m glad you told him. You’re sure you’re okay?”

“I am. And if it helps, it’s not the end of the world—or the case—that the book is gone. I took pictures of all of the pages that had code on them.”

He went quiet. “You did?” he finally said.

“I figured you’d have to take the thing and turn it in, and I wanted to work the code, so ... yeah. Sorry if that was against the rules.”

“No specific rule. And I’m grateful you did that. At least we have the copy if not the actual book.”

“I have printed copies too.”

“You’re amazing. Can you send the digital pictures to me?”

“Of course. As soon as we hang up. I’m also saving them to the cloud just in case someone decides to steal my phone and burn the printed ones.” She thought he might have chuckled at her disgruntled tone.

“I’m heading your way in about fifteen minutes,” he said. “As soon as I can convince everyone I’m fine and that I’m not going to the hospital. Are officers there?”

Not going to the hos—Sirens sounded. “They’re close. I hear them. Do you need to go to the hospital?”

“I don’t. I’m fine. I have a headache, but I’m fine. You’re sure you’re okay?”

“Yes. I promise. He didn’t hurt me.” Not really. Not like he could have. Not like he would have if he’d felt the need. She shuddered.

“I’ll be there shortly,” he said.

She walked into her bedroom and glanced at the hole in her window. “Okay. I need to let James know. He’ll probably be here when you get here.” Maybe. Depending on where he was sleeping tonight. It was pushing one o’clock in the morning, and now that her adrenaline was crashing, climbing into her bed sounded better than calling James. But she had to report it, and if James took the statement, she could kill two birds with one stone. Get it on record and keep him from being livid that she didn’t call him. Okay, three birds. She needed her window fixed. “I read your text, by the way. A little late, but thanks for trying.”

“Sure thing. I was going to call, but that’s when I heard the guy in my house.”

“It’s fine. Everything worked out okay. I’ll see you in a bit.”

When she hung up with Tate, she dialed James, who answered on the third ring. “This better be good,” he croaked.

“Are you sleeping at your apartment or the lake house?” He kept a place in town close to the station so that when he was on duty he didn’t have the long forty-five-minute drive to work.

“Apartment. Why?”

“Because someone broke into my house and tied me up before they went to Tate’s house and stole evidence that was found after he and Cole cleaned out Brenda’s desk.”

“What?!”

It was a testament to how well he knew her that he understood that jumbled paragraph. “Since you’re only ten minutes away,” she said, “I need you to come take the statement so I can go to bed. If you were at the lake house, I was going to just get Cole to do it.” Which, now that she thought about it, she maybe should have done. He’d probably show up anyway with Tate.

“I’m on the way.”

“Bring a hammer. And maybe some nails. I have plywood somewhere in my garage. I have no idea where a hammer might be. Or nails.”

“A ham—? Never mind. I’ll be there soon.”

True to his word, James was there in under fifteen minutes, took her statement, then declared he wasn’t leaving.

And she was glad.

Tate arrived a short time later, and while the men talked, she busied herself in the kitchen, then stopped to lean against the counter and tried to grab a breath. The front door opened and James stepped outside to speak with the officers who were getting ready to leave.

The shakes set in and sobs gathered in her throat. She swallowed but couldn’t seem to choke them down. Tears flowed and dripped into the sink. She pulled in a gasping breath, doing her best to stay quiet.

Warm hands landed on her shoulders, and she turned to see Tate’s compassionate gaze welcoming her to use his chest to muffle her crying. She leaned in and let him encircle her shoulders.

“It’s okay,” he whispered. “Just let it out.”

So she did for a few seconds, drawing strength and comfort from his presence.

“I prayed for you all the way over here,” he said. “That you would feel protected and unafraid. That you would stay strong and be willing to continue the fight.”

She sniffed. “I’m willing. And I’ll be strong in just a minute.”

“That works.”

“Steph?”

James’s voice ended her tears, and she stepped away from the shelter of Tate’s arms and broad shoulders. “Thank you,” she said.

“Of course.”

James stepped through the door. “Hey, Steph?”

“Yes?”

He frowned when he got a look at her face. There was no way she could cover the evidence of her crying jag.

“Don’t say anything,” she said. “I’m okay. Really.”

“Right.” His gaze slid to Tate, then back to her. “I found the plywood in your garage and got your window fixed. You’ll have to order a new pane for it, but you won’t be trying to cool the outdoors with your AC.”

“Thank you. I appreciate it.”

“You want to come stay at the apartment with me? Or have me stay here?”

She sighed and raked a hand over her head. “I mean, I’m not in danger now, right? The guy wanted the notebook and he has it. So I should be fine?”

“Should be. But you’re probably going to jump at every sound if you’re alone. If I’m here, you’ll rest better.”

He wasn’t wrong. And if she was honest, there was a fourth bird. She’d been waiting on him to offer so she could accept. The whole reason she’d wanted him to come take her statement rather than Cole or Tate.

“Okay. Thanks.” She nodded. “Yeah, stay here if you don’t mind.”

“I don’t. Your couch is more comfortable than my bed.” He saluted Tate. “Cole is waiting for you in the car.” He turned and headed to the den and settled on her couch.

Tate gave her a small smile that looked pained, and she gasped. “I’m a horrible person. I never checked to make sure you’re okay!”

He touched his head. “Yeah. He got me with something that knocked me silly for a few seconds. Long enough to grab the book and get away, but I’m fine. It was probably the grip of a gun, which I prefer to a bullet.” He reached out and squeezed her fingers. “Seriously. We’ll talk tomorrow, okay?”

“We’re still on to visit with Greg?”

“We are. I’ll pick you up and you can ride with us.”

“Then I’ll see you in the morning.”

He left and she turned to see James watching with an odd little smile on his lips. She huffed. “Stop it.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“Yes. You did.”

He laughed and she walked into her bedroom, brushed her teeth, and fell across the bed. Knowing James was just in the other room allowed her to close her eyes and fall asleep.

TATE STUDIED HIS CEILING, then rolled out of the bed when no answers to his multitude of questions were forthcoming. He palmed his eyes and pulled in a breath.

He wanted to check on Steph. He couldn’t get the woman out of his mind and that bothered him. For as long as he could remember, he’d avoided anything—including romantic entanglements—that would derail his push to become a police officer and now a detective.

Sure, he’d dated. He’d even had one fairly serious relationship with another career-minded officer. Thankfully, they’d both realized they were better off good friends than married to each other. It had been an amicable parting with no broken hearts involved. He’d been disappointed, of course, but had gotten over it fairly quickly.

He texted Cole, and the man said he’d pick him up, then they’d grab Steph before heading over to the Hudson home.

His phone rang and he swiped the screen. “Hi, Mom.”

“How are you doing, Detective Tate Cooper?”

He smiled. “I’m doing okay, Mom. Thanks for checking on me.”

“When are you coming for a visit?”

“Well, believe it or not, I started day one with a big case, so it might be a while.”

“I understand. We miss seeing you, but your dad and I are proud of you.”

Emotion grabbed him by the throat, taking him off guard. He’d always been close to his parents and he missed them. But the job was everything right now. “Thanks, Mom. I appreciate it.” He glanced at the clock on the wall. “I’ve got to go. I’ll try to find some time to come see you guys soon.” They only lived forty-five minutes away.

“See you later, Son.”

“Give Dad a hug for me.”

“I will. Bye.”

Tate hung up and, with a groan, headed for the shower. He dreaded talking to the new widower, but part of him was looking forward to seeing Steph again in spite of the circumstances.

Twenty minutes later, he hurried to meet Cole, who’d pulled in front of his apartment. Tate slid into the passenger seat and was greeted with the delicious aroma of fresh-brewed coffee with a hint of ... something. Hazelnut?

Two cups from the local café sat in the cupholder. “I don’t suppose one of those is mine, is it?”

Cole shot him an amused look. “You know it is.”

“You’re the best partner a guy could ask for.”

Cole laughed. “Glad to be of service.” He pulled out of the apartment parking lot and aimed toward Steph’s home. “Question for you.”

“Shoot.”

“You like Steph.”

Tate stilled and forced himself not to choke on the sip he’d just taken. After he swallowed, he looked at Cole. “That was a statement.”

“Okay. You like Steph, right?”

“Hm. I do. I mean, I’ve just met her, but she seems like a nice person. A person I might like to get to know should I not be totally focused on my career right now.”

“So, you’re not interested?”

“I don’t think I said that.”

Cole laughed. “All right, then. I’ll just say this. Steph is amazing, but you might want to keep in mind she has three older brothers who all know how to use a gun. And a knife if you count Keegan.”

“A knife?”

“He’s a surgeon.”

Tate chuckled. “Warning noted.” Then he sobered. “But honestly, right now isn’t a good time for romance. She’s grieving and I’m investigating her friend’s death. I don’t think it would be in good taste to ask her out in the near future.”

“Maybe not, but there’s no reason you can’t be her friend in the present.”

“That’s the conclusion I’ve come to. So you can stop your copycat-big-brother-James protective routine.”

Cole slanted him an amused look, then turned his attention back to the road.

“And frankly, I meant what I said. I’m focused on this job, you know? I just made detective. I can’t let myself get distracted no matter how much I might like her.”

“Well, there’s that, but honestly, Steph has been around law enforcement forever, so it’s not like she doesn’t know what your job entails.”

Tate nodded. “I’ll take that into consideration.”

“Then again, she may not be interested in going out with you, so it’s a moot point.”

“And there is that. So thank you.” He paused. “Did she say that?”

“No. I haven’t asked her and don’t think anyone else has either. Would you like me to?”

“No!” Tate cleared his throat. “No. Thanks for the offer, but I’m a big boy. I can handle my own love life. Or lack of.” He paused. “Just drive.”

Cole chuckled and two minutes later he pulled into Steph’s driveway. Tate’s heart lurched when she stepped out of her front door and joined them by climbing into the back seat.

“Hey,” she said.

They echoed their greetings, and she fell silent, her face a mask of sorrow.

Her grief reached deep into a place he thought he’d locked up nice and tight, but all he wanted to do was be there for her, comfort her while she processed the death of her friend. With each passing moment he spent in her company, she drew him to her, making him want more than just friendship. He kept his sigh silent. Why now, God? Because in spite of all Tate’s protests, his heart was hoping it wouldn’t be long before he and Steph could possibly explore options that went beyond friendship. And now Tate was restless, impatient with his wishy-washy feelings. He wanted to turn again and look at her, but refrained. He’d wait. Right now wasn’t about him or what he wanted. It was about Steph and being part of the support system she needed. He’d wait. Be patient and see how things played out. She would heal and he’d give her all the time she needed for that.

Which was okay. His gut was saying she was worth the wait. But would she feel the same about him?