Authors: Sara Humphreys
Trouble Walks In
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Copyright © 2016 by Sara Humphreys
Cover and internal design © 2016 by Sourcebooks, Inc.
Cover art by Blake Morrow
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The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
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Published by Sourcebooks Casablanca, an imprint of Sourcebooks, Inc.
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Also by Sara Humphreys
The McGuire Brothers
Brave the Heat
The Amoveo Legend
Unleashed
Untouched
Undenied
(novella)
Untamed
Undone
Unclaimed
Unbound
(novella)
Dead in the City
Tall, Dark, and Vampire
Vampire Trouble
Vampires Never Cry Wolf
The Good, the Bad, and the Vampire
For my grandmothers, Alicia and Amyâ¦
“The only way love can last a lifetime is if it's unconditional.” âStephen Kendrick
The boy had been missing for twelve hours, and Ronan McGuire knew better than anyone that if they didn't find the kid soon, the search could end in the worst possible way. It had been an unusually cold November, and when little David Newhart wandered away from his parents this morning in the park, he hadn't been wearing a coat. The sun had gone down hours ago, and the temperature was close to freezing.
Ronan's partner grew increasingly agitated as they climbed the steep incline of the hill near Turtle Pond, and hope fired brightly in Ronan's chest. He knew the dog's signals and could read him better than he could most people.
The boy was close.
Bowser whined loudly and tugged harder on the long leash, and Ronan swore under his breath. The enormous bloodhound had the best nose in the tristate area. Once he detected a scent, he rarelyâif everâfailed to find what he was looking for. He tilted his snout to the air before spearing it back to the ground and turning left. Bowser's lanky brown-and-black-furred body quivered with excitement, the way it did whenever the trail grew stronger.
The scent article they'd given Bowser, the missing boy's hat, had given him a solid lead to follow, but this was more an art than a science. David had been missing for hours, and the gusty winds of late November had been blowing hard, making the search-and-rescue job that much more difficult. Well, for Ronan, it was a job. For Bowser, it was more like playing a big game of hide-and-seek. And there was nothing his dog loved more than finding what he was looking for.
Bowser kept his nose to the ground and trotted to the left toward a long stone wall. He followed the scent through the brush and dried leaves in an almost sideways direction along a wooded section of Central Park. Bowser was one of the most talented bloodhounds on the force and could detect scents up to a week old if he had to.
Tension settled in Ronan's shoulders, and his muscles bunched as he wrapped the leather lead tighter around his hand. He scanned the area ahead, and a tickle of panic glimmered in his chest as it sometimes did when he was searching for a missing kid. Faint memories from years ago bubbled to the surface. He knew exactly how this little boy was feeling. Alone. Terrified. Cold.
“David?” Ronan shouted. “I'm Officer Ronan McGuire with the NYPD. Your mom and dad are worried about you. David, can you hear me?”
The wind whistling by his ears was the only answer. The glimmer of hope began to fade right before Bowser whimpered and made a sudden turn to the right, his long, sword-like tail bouncing wildly as he picked up the pace. A bitter gust of wind whisked through the woods, sending a chill up Ronan's spine.
Shit. Please let the kid be okay.
Bowser dodged around a massive elm tree, and Ronan ran around behind him.
“David!”
That was when he spotted a dark lumpâ¦and it moved. Ronan's heart thundered in his chest. He shone his flashlight over the area, and the breath rushed from his lungs.
Got him.
David was curled up in a ball in a pile of leaves at the base of the tree. Bowser barked and went right over, sniffing and licking at the boy before sitting down beside him protectively.
“I wanna go home,” David whimpered as he placed one quivering hand onto Bowser's paw. “I want my mommy.”
“I gotcha, David.” Ronan squatted down and took off his coat before quickly wrapping it around the kid. “Bowser and I are gonna get you back to your mom and dad. They're worried sick about you.”
“I'm cold.”
“I know, pal, but you're safe now. Everything's gonna be okay.”
He started rubbing the boy's arms, but Bowser moved in and lay down right next to the kid, practically on top of him. David giggled through his sniffles and swiped at his eyes before snuggling up to the dog. Bowser was panting heavily, his long, pink tongue dangling from the side of his open mouth. The damn dog looked like he was smiling.
“Good boy.” Ronan repeated the phrase a few times, scratched Bowser's ears, and gave him the praise he expected. “Nice job, buddy.”
Bowser licked his hand quickly, as though returning the kudos. Ronan crouched next to his panting K-9 and radioed for the other officers in the area.
Ronan loved his job, especially when it had a happy ending.
“I told you that I'd be there, and I meant it.” Maddy Morgan pressed the iPhone harder against her ear. She was attempting to block out the sounds beyond her office door while her best friend pestered her to within an inch of her life. “I'm your maid of honor, for heaven's sake. What? You think I'm gonna bail after everything you and Gavin have been through? Hell no!”
“Okay, well, you can't blame me for double-checking, can you?” Jordan hesitated, her voice concerned. “We've hardly spoken. I mean, you haven't been home since⦠It's been over a year and⦔
Maddy stared out the window that overlooked the hustle and bustle of Manhattan and sucked in a deep breath, her friend's unfinished thought hanging in the air. She nibbled her lower lip and fought the sudden, unexpected swell of emotion. It had been fifteen months since Rick died and a full year since she had been back to the town she'd always called home.
At least, she had until recently.
“I know,” Maddy said quietly.
She swallowed the lump in her throat and refused to cry. She'd cried enough at Rick's funeral and during the weeks following. No more tears. If Rick were here, he would tell her to put on her big girl panties and get on with life.
“I'm not missing your wedding,” she said firmly. “Jeez, Jordan. You and Gavin have waited sixteen years to finally get hitched. Hell, you two would have gotten married
last
Christmas if it weren't for me.”
“That's not true,” Jordan said firmly.
“Bull.” Maddy laughed.
“Okay, well, it wasn't the
only
reason,” Jordan replied. “Gavin's parents wanted to throw us a huge Christmas wedding, and four months wouldn't have been enough time to pull it all together. Deciding to wait a year has been a win-win. My future mother-in-law had plenty of time to do her thing, and we all had time to properly grieve for Rick
.
But I'm still worried about you⦔
“I'm fine, Jordan, and I promise⦠I'm gonna be there to witness your dream coming true.”
“Okay, butâ”
“No buts.”
“Yo, Maddy.” The increasingly irritating voice of Chris Drummond shot into the room as he barged in. “That blond, the Brenda chickâare you gonna take her out to an open house this weekend, or should I? And what about those newlyweds? I know you've been slammed. I could take them out to see the new listings, if you want.”
“Hang on, Jordan,” Maddy said tightly.
She covered the phone with her hand and leveled an irritated gaze at her colleague. She knew that Terrence, the owner of the realty agency, had hired Drummond because he had an amazing reputation for selling and one of the best portfolios in the business, but he was a letch. A letch that thought anyone with boobs wanted him. Maddy had learned a long time ago that big talent usually meant even bigger egos.
Unfortunately, this
talent
was also turning out to be an asshole. She had already reported him once to Terrence for inappropriate advances on the young women in the office. Big talent or not, he was making her tired of him and his misogynistic bullshit. And lately, there had been attempts to steal her clients.
“Did you happen to notice that my door was closed?”
“Yeah.” He leaned in the doorway with his usual casual arrogance. Tall, slim, well dressed, and always perfectly coiffed, he was considered good-looking by most. But the air of entitlement he wore like a cloak was a turnoff as far as Maddy was concerned. Besides, she would never date a colleague.
“I'm on a call.”
“Right.” He jutted his thumb over his shoulder. “Anyway, should I take that Brenda chick out and, uh, show her the ropes? We could take the newlyweds, the, uh⦔
“The Bartholomews,” Maddy finished for him. “No, I can handle my client list. Thank you.”
“Fine, then let me take Brenda out.”
The smarmy smile on his face gave Maddy pause. He'd been hitting on the assistants, who were savvy New Yorkers and more than capable of handling themselves, but now he was moving on to the young real estate agent. Brenda was a recent college grad from the Midwest. She was pretty, smart, and naive.
A prime target for a guy like Drummond.
“No,” Maddy said firmly. “Terrence asked me to handle her training. Thank you, and please close the door on your way out.”
His smile faded, and a hard, cold look settled in his eyes. Maddy had moved up the ranks quickly since joining Cosmopolitan Realty House, and her rise hadn't gone unnoticed by Drummond. He hated not being number one, but she suspected that being second to a woman was a bigger insult.
“Sure thing,” he murmured.
Drummond left but neglected to shut the door. Maddy crossed the room, pausing only to tell Sharon, her assistant, to hold her other calls before she closed her door once more.
“Sorry about that, Jordan.” She caught a glimpse of her reflection in the window and grimaced before running one hand through her unruly brown curls. “I'm coming into town a week before the wedding so I can help you with whatever you need. Y'know, all that bridesmaid stuff. I mean, I'm not a real girlie girl, but it'll be fun to hang out. And tell Gavin he better not try to horn in on our girls' night out. It might only be the two of us, but there's a no-boys-allowed rule in effect for that event.”
“I wouldn't worry about that,” Jordan said through a chuckle. “All four of his brothers are coming in early as well. From what I hear, Ronan has quite the bachelor party planned. Speaking of Ronan, why don't you two ride back to Old Brookfield together? I mean, you're both in the city, and he
is
the best man.”
“Yeah, that's not gonna happen. I'll take my own car, thank you very much. I'm staying at the Old Brookfield Inn, and Ronan will be at his parents' house, obviously.” Maddy's eyes narrowed, and the smile on her face grew. “Your matchmaking scheme hasn't worked, Jordan. But I'll give you and Gavin an A for effort.”
“What are you talking about?” Jordan asked with feigned innocence. “When you moved to the city last year, Gavin merely suggested that Ronan should look out for you. He's been a cop there for over a decade. Besides, I heard through the McGuire brother grapevine that you two have been going running on the weekends, so Ronan can't be all bad.”
Nope. That was half the problem. He was exactly the right kind of bad.
They had gone jogging in Central Park almost every weekend for the past several months, but Maddy had made it clear from the start: she wasn't interested in dating. Not him, nor anyone else. Friends? Sure. Romance? No way.
Her heart couldn't take another turn through the shredder. Dating a cop, just because he also happened to be one of the sexiest men God ever put on this earth, would not be a smart move.
Besides, Ronan had a reputation as a total ladies' man.
Not that she could blame any woman for taking a ride on
that
handsome train. When he flashed that lopsided grin and his bluish-green eyes crinkled at the corners, it took superwoman strength for Maddy
not
to drop her panties. He was a combination of mischievous little boy and irresistible alpha maleâa deadly pairing.
Ronan McGuire was wickedly sexy. The worst part was that he knew it.
“Well, yeah,” Maddy said quickly. She sat at her desk and spun the chair to face the window so she could see the rest of the world. Living and working in this city made her feel like a rat in a cage sometimes. “Running around, getting sweaty, and panting in the cold is not exactly dating, Jordan.”
“Sweaty and panting sounds promising,” Jordan teased.
Maddy's face flushed. “That's not what I meant.” She quickly added, “I was talking about Bowser.”
“Sure,” her friend said slowly. “Sure you were.”
“You know Ronan doesn't go anywhere without that dog. Speaking of which, are you prepared to have a drooling animal at your wedding?”
“Oh fine, change the subject.” Jordan sighed. “Any chance I can talk you into coming for Thanksgiving?”
“Sorry, babe. I'm slammed.”
“Then how about staying for Christmas? The wedding is on the twenty-third. Come on. Please? The girls would love it,” she said, referring to her two adorable daughters. “You're going to be here for a week, so what's a couple more days? You said they were closing your office between Christmas and New Year's anyway.”
Maddy had never been part of big family holidays, and that had been fine with her, but the pleading tone in Jordan's voice was starting to make her rethink her decision.
“You know the holidays were never a big deal for me, Jordan. My mom hated celebrating them after my dad died, and then once she was gone, I didn't really want to. And besides,” she added quickly, “Rick and I never even got a tree or anything. He was always working, and so was I.”
“I know, but I hate to think of you alone in that big city on Christmas.
Again.
It's bad enough you wouldn't come last year. Please think about it?”
“I'm hosting a huge New Year's Eve party for my clientsâit's at my apartment.”
“You could leave on the twenty-sixth and still be back in plenty of time to be party ready,” Jordan persisted. “You and I both know your assistant already has the whole shindig tied up and ready to go.”
Jordan was right. The party was a lame reason not to spend the holiday with them. Besides, it was all being catered, and the invitations had been sent. What did Maddy really have to do other than show up and schmooze? And what was here for her on Christmas? She didn't even have a cat or a fish to feed.
Ugh. She felt more pathetic by the second.
“Okay,” Maddy said with a dramatic sigh. “I'll think about it. Jeez, when did you become such a nudge?”
“Since I had two children and learned that being a nudge can sometimes be quite effective.”
A knock on Maddy's door sent a flicker of irritation up her back. But when she spun around, Sharon's tearstained face stopped her cold.
“Girl, I have to go.” A knot of dread curled in her gut. “I'll see you in a few weeks. Give Gracie and Lily a kiss from Aunt Maddy.”
Maddy hit End and set the phone on her desk. Her legs felt like Jell-O as she rose to her feet. Sharon was still weeping while she closed the door behind her, and before it shut, Maddy saw two of the other agents in the office crying.
“Sharon, what is it?”
“Th-they found her.”
“Who?” Maddy asked shakily, her fingertips pressing into the mahogany desk. But she knew the answer before Sharon said it.
“Lucille Bowman.” The young woman swiped at her eyes and let out a shuddering sob. “She's dead.”
* * *
A haunting rendition of “Amazing Grace” spilled from the organ filling the small church, and Maddy wiped the tears from her eyes. The last time she'd heard this song had been at Rick's funeral. A new surge of sadness and grief welled up inside as the pallbearers carried Lucille's casket silently toward the open double doors.
The sounds of the city spilled in, buzzing beneath the mournful melodyâa bitter reminder of how cruel life was. The world outside went on as though nothing had happened. While Lucille's death had barely been noted on the evening news, it was far more personal for Maddy and her coworkers. According to police, the last call Lucille had made was to her husband, saying she was going to meet a client at an open house. The client had called the office later that day to say Lucille had never arrived.
Lucille's husband kept his vacant gaze fixed to the ground. He lumbered silently behind his late wife's casket, seemingly unaware of anyone or anything around him. Grief and shock clung to him like an invisible shroud. Maddy knew that feeling all too well.
He and Lucille didn't have any children and, according to a few of the other real estate agents, had been married only a couple of years. People said that as though it would somehow make his loss less horrible. Did the amount of time he and Lucille had been together even matter? One year or ten, a loss was a loss.
The remaining mourners filed out, all of them in various states of grief, but Maddy remained quietly in the back row. She had spoken with Lucille only a few times, but that didn't stop her from wanting to pay her respectsâbut without overstepping her bounds. The little church in Old Brookfield had been full for Rick's funeral. Even though she couldn't possibly have said who was there and who wasn't, the presence of every individual was a comfort to her. The least she could do was offer the same to Lucille's husband.
After everyone had left, Maddy rose to her feet and slipped out of the pew. She could still go to the burial and reception afterward. The invitation had been extended to everyone at the end of the service. But those events felt like they were for close friends and family, and Maddy didn't qualify for either role. No, it was probably best if she dragged her butt back to work. After all, it wasn't like she had anyone waiting for her at her apartment.
Maddy tugged her black wool coat closed and tied the sash, bracing herself for the brisk air that awaited her outside. As she passed, she gave a polite smile and nod to one of the ministers rearranging some pamphlets in the vestibule.
Life went on, it would seem, even for the clergy.
When Maddy pushed open the heavy wooden door, a gust of brisk November wind rushed over her, making her suck in a sharp breath. Why did this city seem cruel and cold at every turn? The stubborn wind had pulled several strands of her curly hair free from her lame attempt at an updo. She pushed her unruly locks from her eyes and started down the stone steps, prepared to go back to her desk and stare at the computer. She had cleared her calendar today, but returning to an empty apartment was simply too depressing an option. At least at the office, she'd have the illusion of not being alone.