Lori Foster - Dash of Peril

Reese joined them, but only to hand over his phone. “The mayor’s on the line.” He leaned closer. “I told him all of it, and he wants to talk to you now, before you talk to anyone else.”

Please, she thought, not another attempt at a cover-up.

But as she walked into the other room to speak privately, she discovered that the mayor’s idea of damage control wasn’t to hide anything. Nope, he wanted it all handled by the book, resolved once and for all, and for that he wanted her counsel. She almost wanted to crawl through the phone and kiss him for his honor.

Given her personal involvement, Margo knew she couldn’t be in charge of the investigation. Logan was out, too. Thanks to her relationship with Dash, who had also been threatened, Logan would be too close. It was an easy decision to hand the duty off to Reese. But she didn’t delude herself; she and Logan would both be in the thick of it. At least this way they had some checks and balances in place.

To complicate her life more, the mayor assigned her as temporary commander until further notice.

Since reconnecting with Dash, her life had been upside down, sideways and confusing as hell. And things had just gotten worse. Whether or not Dash actually loved her, she supposed she’d find out later. It was going to take her at least a few days to get things settled.

For now, she’d have to put him—and her entire personal life—on the back burner.

Duty called.

A LONG BATH hadn’t relaxed her, not enough. Dressed in jeans and one of Dash’s T-shirts that he’d left behind, she took her Coke and settled on the couch with Oliver.

So many decisions to make.

As she was thinking it, first her cell phone rang, and then her landline. Margo huddled deeper into her couch, her face hidden in a throw pillow. Seven days had gone by—an entire week—and she still hadn’t seen Dash. With each day that passed, any relationship with him seemed more improbable.

They’d talked that first day, and he’d again said he loved her. But she’d just found out that maybe, just maybe, her father, in his own way, loved her, too.

Knowing it left her...strangely empty. Maybe because, after everything, she couldn’t trust in his caring.

Now West...for the first time he was totally backing her, even going so far as to give information from the first investigation. He’d even joined Dan’s ex in verifying Dan had, in fact, been to his parents’ house multiple times. West swore he never saw any drugs or pornos, but his visits had been during the day, not for parties.

They’d talked to other visitors who verified that. Most who admitted to seeing the porn swore they thought it was just that: cheap entertainment, not abduction and rape.

She was so relieved that West wasn’t mired in any of the mess. But could they actually repair their relationship? She didn’t really trust in that possibility, either.

For certain her mother was thoroughly disgusted with all of it. No reason to even wonder about that. But then, her mother had been cold and unfeeling for years. Margo suspected that had more to do with an unhappy marriage than any real animus toward her children.

Margo dropped the pillow and groaned. Oliver, being sympathetic, pressed against her and purred. She stroked him while trying to order her thoughts. Sooner or later she had to see Dash. She had to learn whether or not he really did love her, or if he’d just been caught up in the moment. She wanted to believe him. God, how she wanted to.

But what did she know of love?

Nada. Zip.

She was so confused. And maybe even a little needy. And that was uncomfortable enough to completely throw her off her game.

Disgusted, she put her head back and squeezed her eyes shut.

For most of her life her parents hadn’t understood her, her brother had been annoyed by her, her officers resented her.

Her commander wanted her dead.

Dan Ford—the man who had initiated the corruption at the station, the official who had first drawn in the ex-hookers, forcing them to play or face possible trumped-up prosecution.

A man who had actually enjoyed watching women be victimized by a trio of psychos.

She was a strong person, she knew that.

But she was now officially overwhelmed.

If she met with Dash, what then? Even if he still wanted her, even if he wanted to continue their relationship, she couldn’t help thinking...what if he didn’t love her?

Lacking any real time off to help it heal, her elbow ached, especially when she tried to sleep. But it was nothing compared to the dark of night turmoil that plagued her head, or the hollowness that invaded her heart when she should have been resting.

With Toby dead and Curtis separated from Saul, Saul fell apart like a frightened child. He gave them everything they needed to fully prosecute Curtis: addresses, names, location of evidence. Saul’s testimony wouldn’t save him, but it could spare him a possible death sentence. For a cowardly little worm like Saul, a life sentence would be worse than death anyway.

Earlier that day she’d met with Tipton and Yvette again. Because of the memories, the resurgent fears, Yvette wasn’t sleeping well. Margo had wanted to talk with her about the upcoming trials, to help her understand what would be happening. But the girl seemed doubly shamed when around her, so she’d reluctantly handed off that duty to Logan.

She wanted Dash. She needed him. And that was such an untenable sensation that she automatically balked, fighting it, and in the process made herself more despondent—which was also a terrible feeling.

“What am I going to do?” she asked Oliver.

When the knock sounded on her door, she nearly jumped a foot. It was well after work hours, already dark outside.

Could it be Dash?

Her heart launched into her throat, then dropped to her feet. If Dash demanded that she let him in, he could take the decision for a confrontation away from her. She bit her lip.

Did she want that?

Rowdy’s voice came through the closed door. “Open up, Margo. I know you’re in there.”

Extreme disappointment had her squeezing her eyes shut. It took several deep breaths before she got herself together, then she called, “Coming.”

Working up to her everything-is-fine face, Margo sat the cat aside, straightened her clothes, smoothed her hair and went to the door. She opened with an absurd show of welcome. “Hey, Rowdy. Shouldn’t you be working?”

“Cannon is covering for me.” With a smile of sympathy, Rowdy pushed his way in, checking her out from head to toes. He tweaked a curl. “Lookin’ a little worse for wear, aren’t you?”

She should have known she couldn’t fool him. Turning away, she dropped back into her seat on the couch. “I’m exhausted.”

“Yeah, so?” Standing right in front of her, he folded his muscular arms over his chest. “You’ve been exhausted before.”

Physically, sure. But never so emotionally beat. “What do you want?”

For the longest time he continued to stand there, dissecting her, until finally he dropped down beside her—so close that their thighs touched. “I want to talk about you being single.”

Her stomach sort of bottomed out. Before Rowdy had married Avery, she’d have been flattered. Before Dash, she might have even been tempted. But now...

Summoning up her most stern and direct stare, she looked into his eyes and said, “This isn’t happening.”

“Yeah.” He put his arm around her shoulders and gave her a hug. “It is.” And then with a grin he said, “But get your mind out of the gutter because it’s not what you’re thinking.”

“No?” Her eyebrow went up. “Then what is it?”