Page 22 of Mine to Hold
“There’s nothing to be sorry about. The victim could have argued with two different people based on the timeline. It just makes my job that much harder when you’re the only person who saw her with a man.” He reached out and placed hishand over hers and squeezed. “Is there anything else you can remember about last night that might be helpful? Any words spoken by the victim or this man? Money exchanged. Drugs. A physical altercation. Anything.”
She stared into his intense dark eyes. She could tell this case tormented his heart and that tore at his soul. She reached into her mind, recalling the moments she pulled up next to the rental and stepped from her car. The man and the woman were standing in the parking lot. The woman waved her hands aggressively. They shouted at one another.
But for the life of her, she couldn’t recall a single word.
She’d scurried up the steps and into the house, not wanting to be part of anyone else’s problems. For fifteen years she managed to stay clear of trouble. She never engaged in heated discussions. She never argued with anyone. The moment anything got wonky, she hit the road.
“I wasn’t outside for any longer than it took me to go from my car to the house and I honestly ignored the two people fighting. It wasn’t my business, and unless he was hurting her, I was staying out of it.” And if that had been the case, she would have called the police anonymously and hauled ass to Miami.
“If I were you, I probably would have done the same thing in that situation.” He ran his thumb over the top of her hand in a tender circle. It felt intimate. Personal.
She should pull away, but instead, she enjoyed the moment.
In the last fifteen years, there had only been a couple of men she’d grown to care for more than she should. One in particular, George, had made it difficult for her to pack up and leave. He had tugged at her heart, filling it with promises of a life she couldn’t have. A life that lived in novels and movies. She would admire it from a distance, live vicariously through characters, but never experience it herself.
She left without saying goodbye and she never allowed herself to get that emotionally close to a man again.
That had been eight years ago.
She’d matured since then and had learned how to gauge her emotions better. However, Emmerson and his damn sexy personality came in like a hurricane, tossing her about like a shipwreck. And then, as soon as the seas calmed, he lulled her into his harbor, promising her protection from the storm.
“I wish I could be more help,” she whispered. And that was the truth. She could feel the desperation seeping from his pores. The anguish glowed from his dark eyes like the light from the lighthouse stretching across the sky in search of ships to guide home.
He lifted her hand and kissed the inside of her palm, letting his lips linger on her skin.
It took her breath away and ignited a fire in the pit of her stomach. There have been plenty of men where attraction swirled around her insides like a tidal wave. But she had no problem controlling it. With Emmerson, there was no squelching it, and she tried.
“You’ve been incredibly helpful. It was a rough night. We’re a quiet community. I’m a small-town cop who deals with petty crimes, hands out speeding tickets, and tries to keep Old Lady Gardner from killing someone with her garden hose.”
“Her hose? This I have to hear.” She found herself hanging on his every word, not only intrigued by the tale, but interested in the man. It baffled her mind.
And her heart.
Rumor didn’t fall for guys in an instant. She could take them or leave them, having short-lived affairs with men who offered good conversation and sexual release. Emmerson certainly fell into that category. However, he tickled so much more and that scared and excited her in ways she had never experienced.
Emmerson let out a short laugh. “She gets pissed off when people speed down her street, and rightfully so. Instead of calling the police, she takes matters into her own hands by hosing every car down as they drive by. Last time she did it with a pressure washer. She broke two windows and Petey McGuire ended up crashing into a tree.” He shook his head. “What was worse, I had to take her to the hospital because it was turned on full blast. Too much for her to handle and she fell on her ass, breaking her tailbone.” He ran a hand over his mouth, covering a slight smile.
“You’re not laughing, are you?”
“I’m seriously trying not to. Petey wanted me to press charges, and honestly, it was a chargeable offense. But she’s sixty-four years old and generally a nice lady. He’s not a bad guy, just grumpy since his wife died five years ago, and I have clocked him going through that neighborhood at fifteen over the speed limit. I swear to God, those two have pent-up sexual tension for each other and need to?—”
“Are you suggesting they both need to get laid?”
“Your words. Not mine.” He lowered his chin. “But thanks to a little meddling on my part, I did hear they went on a date last week.” He waggled his brow. “Hopefully that puts an end to those calls.”
She turned, tugging the chair closer. “I can’t imagine what your job must be like. You’re the first cop I’ve ever spent any time with and I have to say I’m fascinated.” She shouldn’t be. She should be keeping a safe distance. Being friendly was one thing, but engaging him on a more personal level was a recipe for disaster.
“Most days it’s kind of boring. Every once in a while something big happens. Like when Trinity’s biological father got himself shot when he’d been wrongfully accused of a string of murders south of here.”
“Oh. Oh.” She grabbed his arm. “I heard about that from Lucy Ann. Didn’t he get shot by federal officers right outside of Safe Harbor Café?”
Emmerson nodded, releasing her hand. “It wasn’t our case. Most big ones like that aren’t. We just don’t have the resources. Either we work with the sheriff or it goes to State. With what happened to Trinity’s father, that went through the Feds, but it was a whole shit show. And then there was what went down with Rhett’s wife and her brother. You met him.” He lifted his mug and sipped.
“I did.” She rested her chin in the palm of her hand. She could listen to Emmerson talk all day. The tone of his voice had a calming effect. His eyes were warm and welcoming. Everything about him screamed kindness.
“Yeah. My deputy, Chris Manzo. That’s Rhett’s brother-in-law. Good man, but he and his wife got mixed up in some crazy mob shit up in New Jersey. Once again, not our case, but we helped. It’s kind of what we do.”
“Sounds like you really enjoy your job.” She smiled. “Helping people, that is.”
