Authors: Christi Barth
“You’re right. Time to go.”
That was easy. Too easy. Trina resettled her cap on her Lady Godiva-esque wig and started walking.
Away
from the car. Yup, too easy. With a sigh, Darcy hustled to catch up with her. “Where are you going?”
“We can’t see anything from out here.”
“You’ve got your binoculars,” Darcy pointed out as they crunched across a crushed oyster shell driveway.
“All I can see is the building. We know he’s in there, but we don’t know what he’s doing. We have to up the stakes.”
Darcy had a bad feeling about this. Every step closer to the pale pink stucco walls of Ivan’s hotel got them a step closer to trouble. The dated exterior and cement steps cratered like the surface of the moon gave it a skeezy vibe. “You promised you’d keep your distance.”
“I promised I’d stay out of his sight.” She skipped up the first flight of steps. “And I will. By kneeling under the window. He won’t see us, but I’ll be able to hear what’s going on in there. Hotels have super-thin walls. You can hear someone in the next room fart. I’m sure I’ll be able to hear his conversation.”
No. No way. The perfect combination of both risky and stupid. Darcy grabbed Trina’s hand. “I don’t like it. You could get caught.”
Trina tugged on her waist-length locks. “That’s why we’re in disguise. He’ll never match up our faces to the girls he chased last night. Besides, I told you. Ivan won’t see us at all. I’ll be stealthy.” An unaccustomed wash of solemnity darkened her gaze. “Look, I’m not an idiot. I don’t want this big guy to catch me eavesdropping any more than you do. Don’t forget I medaled in sprinting every track meet our senior year. If he opens the door, we run. And we’ve already proven we can outrun him.”
How on earth would she explain to Coop that she’d missed their date because she’d been stuck in a holding cell? Trina had to be stopped. Talking fast, Darcy threw out every reason she could think of besides falling back on the growing knot in her stomach. “Another guest could report us to the front desk. A maid could see us. I think voyeurism is a felony offense.”
“Which is why you’ll stand watch at the top of the stairs.” Brown eyes sparkling with excitement, Trina tugged out of her grasp and ran up the next flight. She sidled along the wall, palms flat. Darcy had to hand it to her. At least she looked very professional, just like a spy in the movies. But appearances weren’t close to enough. She wondered if any of those dozen books Trina had studied could possibly have turned her friend into a second-degree black belt.
Darcy white-knuckled the balcony railing. And reminded herself that just because Ivan creeped them out, it didn’t make him dangerous. Since he’d only been in his room for fifteen minutes, chances were good he wouldn’t want to leave anytime soon. They were perfectly safe. Trina would get this out of her system once she didn’t overhear anything interesting. So why did her stomach feel like someone was wringing it out like a wet towel?
At the edge of Ivan’s windows, Trina dropped to her knees. She crawled underneath the sill, pressing her ear to the glass. Her fake hair dragged on the cement beside her, kind of like a boneless dog. Had she thought to check from the street with the binoculars that the curtains were drawn? Darcy cast a quick look over her shoulder to be sure the stairs were still clear. Should she pretend someone was coming to get Trina to abandon this reckless plan? No, Trina wouldn’t give up until her knees gave out or she heard something fishy from inside. Darcy took another sip of her half-melted ice. At least sucking on the straw gave her something to do.
After a minute, Trina shook her head, mouthed
I
can’t hear anything
at Darcy, and crawled closer to the door. Great. At this rate, she’d probably want to borrow a maid’s uniform next and actually go into the room to eavesdrop. If things escalated to that level, Darcy would definitely pull the fire alarm to get Trina the heck out of there.
The turquoise door flew open. Wearing only a ratty terrycloth robe and a scowl, Ivan braced his hands on the door frame. Oh God. Darcy froze, ignoring her body’s instinct to flee. She wouldn’t go anywhere without Trina.
Gasping, Trina scrambled to her feet to book out of there. But as she got up, she stepped on her wig and pulled it off, feet catching in the mass just enough to stop her cold. Darcy watched Ivan’s recognition dawn the moment he saw Trina’s strawberry bob. His cheeks and forehead turned the color of boiled lobster. One meaty paw swiped out and grabbed Trina’s upper arm.
“You! You followed me.” Ivan shook her hard, twice. His accent was thick, but still understandable.
Now that he’d manhandled Trina, Darcy couldn’t see her face anymore. But the rest of her friend was as still as a department store mannequin. All that talk about carrying the pepper spray, and yet she wasn’t even reaching into her purse for it. Darcy slow-motioned forward. If she got close enough, she’d make a grab for the tube.
One more hard shake, yanking Trina two steps further from Darcy. “What did you hear?” he bellowed.
“You wouldn’t care what I heard unless you had something to hide.” Oh, crap. Trina had found her tongue. Why oh why had she decided to use it as a weapon instead of the pepper spray? Darcy kept inching closer. “Want to take the easy route and tell me now, or spill your guts to the police later?”
“Meddling girl!” He backhanded Trina, hard enough to spin her head around like an owl’s. A big onyx and gold ring sliced open a thin line of red down her cheek. Trina cried out. Darcy wasn’t sure if it was from pain or shock or fear. But she refused to give Ivan another chance to hurt her friend.
Darcy snapped the plastic lid off of her cup and threw the sticky, cold mess right in his face. Not exactly as useful as say beating him over the head with a fire extinguisher. However, it was her only option. Maybe the ice crystals would sting his eyes.
He howled. It must’ve worked. Just not enough to make him let go. But with his eyes tightly shut, Darcy gained an extra weapon—the element of surprise. She lashed out with her leg, grateful for two things. That Trina had insisted they change into sneakers, and that she’d taken a kick-boxing class to kill time while stuck on a fourteen-hour layover in London. The whole top of her foot connected with something squishy enough that it had to be Ivan’s balls.
Sure enough, he let out a high, thin scream. Then he let go of Trina and doubled over, keening and panting. Darcy didn’t look around to see if all the noise had roused any of the neighbors. Or even wait to see if Ivan was truly out of commission, or about to lunge after them. Darcy gave in to the survival instinct that had been tensing her muscles for the past ten minutes. She grabbed Trina’s hand and ran.
Chapter Eight
Coop shrugged into a blue and white checked shirt. It was the only other non-tee shirt he’d brought, besides what he’d worn on the aborted date with Darcy. He’d planned to wear this one for the big party on the Fourth. But maybe putting on a collared shirt could get him a shot at making his own fireworks with Darcy tonight, instead of waiting three weeks. Casual hook-ups weren’t his thing anymore. Police work meant exhausting shifts that sometimes ran double of a normal eight-hour work day. That didn’t leave him with the energy to go out to a bar and waste half the night impressing some girl just to get in her pants for an hour.
He’d been thinking about settling down before Doug got shot. The idea fit comfortably once Coop passed his thirtieth birthday. Any one of his sisters would jump at the chance to start setting him up with the kind of woman who could take the stress of living with a police officer. After the shooting, everything went out the window except training for the Service. Sure, he’d blown off some steam a couple times. Like when a buddy from the MSP got married in Annapolis. Coop already had the hotel room, and figured it’d be a waste to not put the king-sized bed to good use with a pretty out-of-town guest. No follow-up, no commitment, nothing to veer him off course from training for his goal.
Except now the goal was gone. Slipped through his fingers, with no chance of a second shot. Picturing a different future all of a sudden didn’t appeal to him. What did appeal to him was Darcy. They could squeeze in a lot of good times before she left for Africa. Or if she did. He’d have to pin down the details on that tonight. That was a goal he could deliver.
Banging on the front door popped Coop halfway out of his bedroom. Across the hall, Brad threw their wet towels into the dryer. “Is some other random family member here to surprise us?” Coop demanded of Brad. They didn’t know their neighbors. And the way his family had been hovering over him lately, he wouldn’t put it past them to drive three hours for a pop-in.
“Dude, if it’s a surprise, how the hell would I know?”
Annoyance poked at him like the nips from an untrained puppy. If one of his sisters, or God forbid, his mother had come down here to check on him and fuss, he’d lose it. “It can’t be the girls. They’re an hour early.”
“Not like you need a crystal ball to find out. Go answer the fricking door.”
Coop didn’t bother to put on his sandals. Barefoot and only half-buttoned, he hurried through the living room. Swear to God, he’d let whoever it was spend the night, but then pack her well-meaning butt into a car first thing tomorrow morning. He’d put money on it being his mother. She treated him like he’d lost all use of his legs instead of just one of the most demanding and dangerous jobs in the country.
“I’m fine,” he yelled pre-emptively as he threw open the door.
“Good. ’Cause we’re not.” It took a quick double-take to realize it was Darcy who spoke. She’d hidden her beautiful hair under a cheap hooker wig and wore a tee long enough to be a night shirt. His second look also brought into focus Trina, wearing the same enormous shirt. What really caught his eye, though, was the no-mistake-about-it, blood-stained and scrunched up napkin she clutched to her cheek. What the hell had they gotten into?
Coop ushered them in, straight around the granite counter into the kitchen. It had the best light. “Let me take a look at whatever’s under that napkin.” As Brad joined them, he jerked his head back toward the bathroom. “Go get the first aid kit.”
“Sorry we’re early,” Darcy said with a tiny shrug and an even tinier smile. “When I started driving, going home sounded pretty scary to both of us.” She ran a hand down Trina’s tangled hair. “This seemed like the safest place.”
Safe? Why did they need to feel safe? He probably couldn’t accuse Trina of manufacturing trouble anymore. Not when she stood bleeding in his kitchen. How had they managed to stumble onto something actually dangerous? Coop wanted pull Darcy into his arms. Give her a big hug until the color came back into her ashen cheeks. Run his hands over her entire body to be sure she didn’t have any hidden injuries. But years of training shoved emotion aside, and honed him in on the basics. Like noticing Darcy and Trina still had their hands clasped together tighter than an unsteamed mussel.
“Do you think you’re in danger right now? Were you followed here?” Coop kept his voice low and calm. The women seemed to be holding it together, but he didn’t want to take any chances on spooking them into a meltdown.
Darcy shook that ridiculous yellow wig. “No. Once we got into the car we were fine. Which makes us look utterly paranoid for not wanting to go home.”
“For me, it’s not so much being at home or not that matters. I wanted to come because what could be safer than being here with two burly police officers?” A hint of Trina’s good humor sparked in her eyes. But she still didn’t loosen her grip on Darcy.
“Well, we do aim to serve and protect.” Coop tried to keep the mood light, stalling until Brad returned. They both needed to hear the girls’ story from the beginning. “Don’t worry about showing up early. Now you’ll get to watch the magic in the kitchen happen. I make a mean guacamole.”
Brad came back with supplies, and a couple of washcloths. “Why don’t I clean you up? I promise I’ll be gentle.” Trina still hunched in her shoulders, and wouldn’t drop her other hand from her face. “Come on, I’m a certified EMT. I know what I’m doing. Even helped deliver a baby on the side of a road once. Are you hurt anywhere else?”
While Trina shook her head no, Coop noticed the handprint-shaped bruise forming on her upper arm. She might not be bleeding anywhere else, or have broken bones, but she’d definitely been hurt. He opened the fridge and grabbed four beers. “I don’t know how you guys do it, but our family tradition is that cocktail hour starts the minute your feet leave the sand. Trina, by the time Brad finishes patching you up, I’ll have these poured in a frosty mug.” Deliberately trying to separate the women, he made a show of awkwardly juggling the bottles. “Darcy, a little help here?”
It worked. She hurried forward before the bottles froze too much of the skin off his forearms. Coop made a big production out of locating the bottle opener, handing it to her, and pulling mugs out of the freezer. Meanwhile, Brad had coaxed Trina’s hand away and dabbed at her cheek with a sterile gauze pad. Time to get down to business.
“Here’s the thing. I’m glad you two feel safe with us—”
“—without even seeing a demonstration of our sweet Krav Maga moves,” Brad interrupted. “You’re taking a lot on faith.”
“What’s Krav Maga?” asked Trina.
Brad squeezed a thin line of antibiotic ointment down her cut. “A kind of martial arts. Israeli special forces came up with it for self-defense, and now law enforcement all over the world uses it. It makes karate look as effective as thumb-wrestling.”
True. What his cousin didn’t know, though, was how much the Secret Service training had improved Coop’s skills. The next time they sparred, he’d be able to take Brad down in seconds. He couldn’t wait. “But we can only be effective if we know what we’re up against.” Coop took a filled mug from Darcy and pressed it into Trina’s hand. “So let’s go have a seat and you can bring us up to speed.”
At least sitting on the lumpy corduroy couches gave him an excuse to press up against Darcy. He could still play connect the dots with Trina’s freckles the way they stood out on her pale, shocky face. Darcy, though, looked back to normal. And when he rubbed his leg against hers as they sat down, she palmed his thigh. Coop had never debriefed before with his cock already at half mast. First time for everything, though.
He put his hand on top of Darcy’s. If she moved it at all, he’d fast-forward to a wildly inappropriate full erection. “Start from the beginning. Leave nothing out,” he ordered.
Ten minutes later, Coop regretted the
leave nothing out
part of his directive. Why the hell did Trina think it mattered what flavor Italian ice they’d thrown in the guy’s face? Like strawberry would sting more than mango? But Darcy had done a good job of keeping her friend mostly on track with the recitation. “First of all, I think you’re right. You are perfectly safe here.”
“Doesn’t sound like there’s any way he could’ve caught up to you even before you hopped in a car. I’m sure you’re safe at your house, too,” Brad added.
“Secondly, I owe you an apology.” Coop spread his hands wide, palms up. “God knows how you managed to randomly stumble across this guy, but he’s definitely bad news. I’m sorry I doubted you, Trina. I’m even more sorry that Ivan attacked you.”
“You skated a line this time,” Brad warned. He’d kicked back in a recliner, dangling his beer over the side from two fingers. “You never should’ve gotten so close to him. Owning pepper spray isn’t the same as deploying it. And even if you pulled it out, what if he’d snatched it away from you? Then what? Did your how-to book cover
how to escape from a guy who’s three times your size?
Do you know self-defense?” Although he looked relaxed, Brad popped out each point with the penetrating, icy heat of Ben-Gay. Too bad Trina didn’t look anywhere close to suitably chastened.
“No, I don’t know any fancy fighting moves. Yet, that is. Doesn’t mean I can’t learn. Trial and error, right?”
“Wrong,” both men shouted. Exasperation and concern jacked their voices up louder than strictly necessary. Brad thunked down his foot rest and leaned forward. “An error could get you a lot more than a sliced cheek next time.”
Trina angled an angelic smile at Coop. “Well,
you
told me he wasn’t dangerous.”
Crap. Next to him, Darcy giggled. He couldn’t argue with her logic, no matter how much he wanted to. But he refused to back down. Coop couldn’t risk her going off on another wild hare. “No way. I’m not taking the heat for this. I need you to promise to keep your distance from Ivan. In fact, no more tailing anyone until you do learn self-defense.” He squeezed Darcy’s hand. “That goes for both of you.”
“Trust me, I’m in no hurry to ever see that man again.” She shuddered. Then she very pointedly looked first at Brad, and then Coop. “But if we stay away, what are you two going to do about him?”
Huh. He hadn’t expected Darcy to do anything but let this whole matter drop. Too easy to get sidetracked by her long legs and seductive eyes and not remember her scalpel-sharp mind. Which he admired. Coop liked a woman to keep him on his toes. He just wasn’t quite ready for it in this situation. He stood. “Guess I’ll start by getting to work on that guacamole. Can’t let you keep drinking on an empty stomach.”
Of course, she followed him to the kitchen. Darcy was too smart to just let him wriggle off the hook. “I’m a big fan of snacks, but don’t think you can get off that easy. You’ve admitted that whatever Ivan’s up to is no good. So what’s next? You can’t let him roam around Ocean City stirring up trouble.”
“Technically, we can,” said Brad. He craned around to see her from the depths of his chair. “We don’t have jurisdiction here. Well, we do, but not unless the OCPD asks for our help. Cops are very territorial. Unless we actually see a crime going down, there’s not much we can do.”
“But what about Trina? She was assaulted.” Darcy shot her hip to the side and fisted her hand on it. She radiated righteous outrage on behalf of her friend. “That’s still a crime, right?”
Coop felt like he’d been hauled in front of the teacher to defend a bad math problem. It flat out sucked that the law sometimes protected the guilty as well—if not better—than it protected the innocent. He carried a bowl of tortilla chips over to Trina. “It’s a gray area. If you go to the police to press charges and explain that he smacked you, they’ll want to know why. Then you’ll have to admit that you were engaged in unlawful surveillance. Chances are good they won’t pay attention to anything you say after that.”
“Even if we go with you, we’d all probably get tossed out on our ears,” said Brad. “You’ve got nothing but circumstantial evidence. Do we believe whatever Ivan’s doing stinks worse than rotting crabs? Hell, yes. Do we have any proof? No.”
Huh. Even though Darcy might be pissed at him for explaining that they were hamstrung, she still hung out in the kitchen with him. Coop started slicing and dicing avocadoes. Looked like the date part of this night might still be salvageable. A mystery to unravel, steaks on the grill, and a gorgeous woman to kiss afterwards. All his favorite things wrapped up in one salt-tinged, sandy package here at the family beach house. As long as he managed to find a way to assuage Darcy and Trina’s need to see Ivan brought to justice.
“We can run him through the system,” Coop offered. “We’ll call the motel, get his real name, and see if anything pings when we run him.”
Darcy rolled another avocado his way. “That’s it? That’s all you can do?”
“That’s us sticking our necks way out—if we get caught. We’re not supposed to run background checks on anyone without just cause. Or use our badges to coerce information.” True, but another gray area. Not that he’d admit it to the inquisitive woman now tracing circles at the small of his back. Coop had friends who did a full criminal check before every first date. One guy even did it for his widowed mother once she signed up with an Internet dating site.
“Only on one condition.” Brad stood to tower over Trina. “I don’t want to worry about you. So you stay away from Ivan. Don’t sit anywhere near him on the beach. In fact, pick a different spot, down at least one lifeguard tower from where you’ve been the past few days. Promise?”
“Yeah.” When Brad still glared down at her, Trina’s cheeks finally pinked back up. “What do you want me to do, cross my heart?”
Great. With Trina back to her sassy self, she’d keep Brad occupied. Coop reached for a jar of salsa—his secret ingredient. The faster they got through dinner, the faster he’d get to dessert. And Darcy was the only thing that would satisfy his sweet tooth.
* * *
Coop cinched his arm a little tighter around Darcy’s waist. “I’m glad you agreed to a walk. Some people don’t like the beach at night. I don’t get what they’re worried about. Like a great white is really going to sneak up on them just because the moon’s out?”