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his gaze on hers.

ā€œWe should go. Stephens is roaming the hallways checking out the

buildingā€™s security.ā€

ā€œIā€™m sorry.ā€ Her voice was a bit stronger when she said it this time and he softened.

ā€œDonā€™t be. Iā€™m not upset with you. I just want you to take this seriously and things areā€¦complicated withā€¦ā€ Us. The word was us but he wasnā€™t willing to say that word. ā€œThis case and the fact you teach at

my sonā€™s school and are part of his life. It grays some areas of this investigation for me and I need things to be very black and white.ā€

She stood with all her insecurity written on her face, but the moment

she turned from him she stopped and looked back down to him. ā€œDonā€™t

you think Iā€™m taking this seriously? I live and breathe fear right now. I promise it doesnā€™t take much for me to imagine just what this creep wants to do to me and I donā€™t appreciate you suggesting that I donā€™t get

it. Iā€™m not naturally paranoid and no, itā€™s not my first inclination to fear a student whom Iā€™ve been teaching for a while now, but I get it.ā€

Her lips pursed for a second before she turned from him again.

She walked from the room with his eyes trailing after her. He stood a

moment later and followed, finding her already talking to Stephens in the corridor. He stood stupidly by as Stephens complained about the lack

of security in the building.

ā€œThey have a security desk downstairs and yet itā€™s empty after six oā€™clock. They have security cameras around the building but there are far

too few and with no one monitoring the security desk in the evening itā€™s

all pointless until after the fact.ā€ Stephens sounded personally offended

by the building and she just stood by watching him, nodding her head and trying to disguise her eyes, which kept shifting to Dillonā€™s nervously.

ā€œThe parking garage is another issue.ā€ Dillon chimed in. Katrinaā€™s

focus switched entirely to him but her expression was guarded. ā€œThere are no cameras in the garage, which is ridiculous. They donā€™t monitor the

gate at night because itā€™s permit parking after five oā€™clock. There is nothing stopping someone from walking right into the garage and there

are more dark, deserted corners in there than there are in even this building. I donā€™t want you parking in there anymore.ā€

She looked shocked for a moment. ā€œWhat? Street parking is pointless

downtown and the garage is free for faculty!ā€

ā€œI donā€™t care if they pay you to park in that damn garage. Itā€™s unsafe.

Take public transportation.ā€ He was holding her gaze harshly while

Stephens looked between them.

ā€œBecause thatā€™s safer?ā€ She looked incredulous.

ā€œUnder the circumstances, yes! A crowded bus is far safer for you right now than a deserted, unguarded parking garage. Though I donā€™t like the idea of you walking from a bus stop to your home either. But we

can have the patrol officer meet you there.ā€

ā€œHeā€™s right, Ms. Page,ā€ Stephens chimed in. ā€œYouā€™re better off on a city bus right now where there will always be plenty of people. Better yet, take a cab if you can afford it. Just donā€™t put yourself in a place like a nearly vacant parking garage with no security.ā€ She nodded but she was

staring at the floor. ā€œNow what the hell were you two doing in that classroom alone for so long, making out? Kept me waiting long enough,ā€

Stephens muttered as an afterthought.

Dillon could strangle the man. Instead he turned with his lips pursed,

shaking his head and stalked off down the corridor. He pointed back at

Stephens when he was about fifteen feet away, pinning the man with one

final comment. ā€œSee that she gets to her car and out of the parking garage safely.ā€ And then he kept walking. Fucking hell. He just couldnā€™t win for trying!

Chapter Eight

 

ā€œSo how is Detective Sweet Cheeks?ā€ Imogen drawled as she sat

beside Katrina at the baseball game ticket table on Friday night. Damn gate duty.

ā€œBy cheeks I assume youā€™re referring to his handsome ass cheeks?ā€

ā€œOf course. Duh. I assumed that went without saying.ā€ She chided

Katrina and elbowed her in the arm but Katrina was having a hard time

appreciating the humor. She was a bit too irritated with Detective Sweet

Cheeks. She was also exhausted thanks to two more nights of next to no

sleep. But it was Friday. TGI-Ready-for-an-Adult-Drink-F. ā€œSo, are we getting a drink after this shindig?ā€ She must have read Katrinaā€™s mind.

ā€œYes please.ā€

ā€œHow long do we have to sit here? The gameā€™s already started.ā€

ā€œUntil the third inning. Then itā€™s a free-for-all.ā€

ā€œItā€™s junior-high football for Godā€™s sake. Are people really expected to

pay for this? I mean, how are we even going to know when itā€™s a third in?ā€

ā€œFirst of all, this is baseball, not football. Second of all, yes, theyā€™re expected to pay. Thatā€™s why they keep handing us money. And third, itā€™s

not an ā€˜inā€™ itā€™s an inning and just look up at the scoreboard.ā€ She smirked.

Couldnā€™t help it, not when Imogen was being ridiculous.

ā€œWell, itā€™s not my fault you Americans have the stupidest sports

known to man-kind.ā€

ā€œReally? At least we didnā€™t name a sport after a bug.ā€ And then as Katrina looked up her face fell.

ā€œWell, speak of the devil.ā€ Imogen muttered as Katrina elbowed her

in the rib cage. She hadnā€™t told Imogen about Wednesday nightā€™s lecture

sheā€™d received from the man and here he was walking toward them now,

along with Seth, Jake and Molly. Outstanding.

ā€œHi, Seth, Jake. How are you guys?ā€ They gave her as much of a

greeting as she guessed anyone ever got out of them before taking off,

leaving Dillon and Molly standing at the table.

ā€œFree tickets yet?ā€ It was Molly and she was as bubbly and friendly as

Katrina remembered her from Jakeā€™s year in her class.

ā€œSorry, not yet. After the third inning.ā€

ā€œWell weā€™d have been here sooner if Dillon hadnā€™t made us late. Bad

habit of his, donā€™t ya know?ā€ And Mollyā€™s eyes found Katrinaā€™s with a subtle knowing smile while Imogen practically choked on her laughter.

Detective Adler looked less than amused as he forked over the cash and

Katrina could barely make eye contact with the man as she reached to his

outstretched hand to take the money.

It wasnā€™t long until the end of the third inning and she opted for concessions before she and Imogen escaped for drinks. She was ready, more than ready, for a good strong margarita with an extra shot of tequila but she was guessing having at least some food in her stomach would be

a good idea, lest she end up knee-walking drunk. Drunk, fine. Falling-down-stupid drunk, not fine.

ā€œBuy you a walking taco to make up for my rudeness the other

night?ā€

ā€œAre you supposed to be talking to me or are you going to get in trouble with the police police?ā€ He studied her with a perplexed look on his face for a moment as her cheeks started burning. ā€œWell Iā€™m glad that

joke fell flat.ā€

ā€œNo I get it. Well done.ā€ He pursed his lips. He wanted to smirk. She

could see it in his eyes but alas heā€™d made it clear just how professional

their relationship needed to be. Didnā€™t seem to stop her heart from fluttering in her chest or her fingers from trembling as he handed her the

Doritos bag with a fork sticking out of it.

They started walking slowly from the concession stand, stopping to

stand along the fence that ran parallel to the third-base line. It should mean nothing, the two of them standing together and given the few pairs

of eyes that regarded them and the brows that then shot up in interest it

intrigued a few people if nothing else. But it sure as hell shouldnā€™t be so

damn strained, awkward and just plain wrong.

What could possibly be wrong with them talking? Heā€™d made it clear

just how hands-off he was to her but all she felt was rejection. Of course

that wasnā€™t true. He was standing awkwardly by her side, eating in

silence and trying to behave like any other adults milling around the baseball diamond.

ā€œSeth did great on his history test yesterday with Mrs. Martins. Her tests can be complicated because they rely heavily on reading retention and he aced it. Not sure if he told you but he should be proud.ā€

He looked to her with a small smile that showed nothing more than

pride for his son. ā€œWell thank you for including him in your reading group. Thatā€™s great to hear.ā€ She nodded and they went back to silence.

He was taking her empty Doritos bag from her hands a few minutes

later before he spoke again. ā€œIā€™m sorry if I sounded rude downtown the

other night. It was very unprofessional of me.ā€

ā€œUnprofessionalā€¦ā€ She let the word trail off her tongue as she

repeated him. He was right about that. It was completely unprofessional

and entirely personal. Personal, that thing he seemed so intent on avoiding with her. But Katrina was guessing it would beā€¦

unprofessional to remind him of that fact.

He ignored the challenge in her voice for a moment as he studied her.

ā€œI better go find Molly. You have a good night.ā€ He walked away and she watched. Naturally her eyes were drawn to his exceptional physical

strength and beauty. His gait was purposeful but not stalking. He was just the perfect height to be commanding but not overbearing. And that

ass. The shape through the casual jeans he wore was sinful. It showed the

extended strength of his legs. He had quite a powerful build and she forced herself to look away quickly as a flush ran through her body. But

she didnā€™t look away quickly enough.

ā€œClose your mouth and stop staring.ā€ Imogen had just snuck up

behind her, following the trail of her overeager eyes. ā€œLetā€™s hit the road,

Jack.ā€ She nodded as Imogen linked their elbows and hauled her off toward the parking lot. Drinks. Drinks would do her good. She was only

twenty-eight for crapā€™s sake and she deserved a little twenty-something

fun.

* * * * *

Two-thirty in the morning was never a fun time to be woken up.

ā€œAdler.ā€ He croaked out the word as he struggled to sit upright.

All he could hear was sniffling and he looked at caller ID on his cell phone quickly. He shouldnā€™t know her cell phone number by memory

but pathetically he did.

ā€œKatrina? Whatā€™s wrong?ā€ More sniffling. ā€œKatrina, you have to talk

to me. Are you okay? If youā€™re not okay, you need to hang up and call 911.ā€

ā€œIā€™m fine.ā€ She was choking on the words and he was struggling to control the panic. ā€œI just thought I heard something. But the patrol officerā€™s out front and I called him. He checked and itā€™s nothing butā€”I ā€¦

justā€¦I just panicked. Iā€™m sorry. I shouldnā€™t have called. I just donā€™t want

to sleep on my bathroom floor again.ā€ She laughed nervously for a second.

ā€œHang tight. Iā€™m on my way. Iā€™ll be there soon.ā€ He text-messaged Molly that Seth was alone and he left Seth a note. It was their routine.

Seth would see the note and head down to Mollyā€™s when he woke if Dillon wasnā€™t back and Molly would know to make sure he showed up at

a decent time in the morning.

When Dillon pulled up in her driveway, the patrol officer sitting

outside met him. ā€œI checked around all the windows and Iā€™m not seeing

any sign that someoneā€™s been snooping around. The floodlights never came on. Itā€™s windy though so Iā€™m not surprised sheā€™s hearing things with all the bushes that grow right up around her house.ā€ He thanked the uniformed officer before walking up to her side door, being flooded

with the obnoxious rays of the motion-sensor floodlight. She answered moments later. Her eyes were puffy and her face was splotchy. She was

wearing a pair of flannel pajama pants and a sweatshirt. She held the door for him and he entered.

ā€œIā€™m sorry.ā€ She just looked so damn exhausted. Her light-brown hair

was up in a ponytail and her face was without makeup, leaving her looking younger than she actually was. She looked quite stunning in that

frightened-young-woman-who-needed-rescuing sort of way. God, he

wanted to rescue her.

He shook his head slightly, dismissing her apology. ā€œTell me what

happened.ā€

ā€œI got home about an hour ago andā€¦ā€

ā€œWhat were you doing out until one-thirty in the morning?ā€ He

sounded more like a

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