Dani Sinclair - Beautiful Beast

Unless that, too, was part of her act.

He didn’t have time for this. His first commission was waiting on the worktable downstairs. If he wanted it completed on time, he had to finish shaping the clay tonight.

He knew little about Cassiopia Richards beyond the fact that she had a quick temper, made a laughable burglar and was a poor liar. If she and Beacher were engaged he’d eat all his works in progress.

How had she known Beacher had given him anything?

The minute his friend had showed up last night Gabe had known there was trouble, but Beacher had put him off. He’d handed Gabe a small package and asked him to hold it without questions until he returned.

“Don’t open it, okay? I’ll explain tomorrow when I come back.” His expression had been grim. “I don’thave time to explain right now. There’s someone I have to meet and I’m running late.”

He wouldn’t say who or what was in the package and, as of yet, he hadn’t returned with explanations. How had Cassiopia known?

Beacher knew Gabe’s house was searched on a regular basis. He wouldn’t have asked Gabe to hold something that would get them both tossed in prison. Not when, at the cost of his own reputation, Beacher had stood by Gabe when no one else would. There was no one Gabe trusted the way he trusted Beacher so he hadn’t pressed for answers. He regretted that now.

Something was wrong. Beacher should have shown by now. He’d give his friend until morning, then he was going to see what Beacher felt needed to be hidden from the irritating woman.

She stopped beside a small coupe and looked back at the house. Gabe stilled, willing her to see him as just another shadow once more.

Slapping the roof of her car in frustration, she climbed inside and started the engine. As she pulled away from the curb he made a mental note of the license plate and hurried to his backyard, bypassing his truck. The motorcycle started with its usual roar. He picked her up a few minutes later, traveling at a sedate rate of speed on the city streets.

Gabe hung well back. If she knew about his habit of going to the gym in the evening, she knew he rode a motorcycle. Following her was probably a waste of precious time. He’d take bets she was on her way home and not on her way to meet Beacher, but he had to be sure.

It was a bet he would have won.

When she turned into the parking lot of a row of modest town houses, he pulled over on the main road and waited. She took her time exiting the car. He used that time to survey the area.

Something moved furtively between two parked cars. Cassiopia had climbed out and was heading in that same direction, a large cloth handbag she hadn’t had earlier slung over one shoulder.

Instincts screaming, Gabe kicked the bike to life. He roared into the lot as the crouching figure leaped from between the cars and rushed her. Cassiopia went down. The pair struggled briefly before the hooded figure took off, disappearing around the corner of the building with her bag.

Gabe sent the bike onto the sidewalk in pursuit. Grass and dirt spun under his wheels as he tore after the fleeing figure, only to come to an abrupt halt at a privacy fence blocking his path.

Spotting a gate, he leaped off the bike. The gate was locked or jammed, but the attacker hadn’t had time to go anywhere else. Gabe scaled the wood fence. Abruptly, light flooded the small enclosure on the other side. A shape appeared in the sliding glass door holding a gun.

“Police officer! Hold it right there.”

Gabe swore under his breath. From his perch on top of the swaying section of fence he saw something moving in the enclosure next door.

“A woman out front was just accosted,” he told the cop. “I chased the suspect back here. He’s in the yard next door.”

“Get down. Slowly.”

This cop already had his suspect. Gabe was dressed in black and wearing a helmet. Until the cop knew for sure what was going on, he wasn’t going to listen to anything Gabe said. Jaw clenched, he dropped to the ground, careful to keep his hands in plain sight.

“Flat on the ground,” the man ordered. “Hands above your head.”

With a sigh, Gabe obeyed. His helmet made the position more uncomfortable than it would have been otherwise.

“Could you at least have someone make sure Cassiopia’s okay? I think she was only knocked to the ground, but I saw a knife when he took her purse.”

“You know Cassy?” he asked suspiciously.

Not nearly as well as he was going to know her.

“She was just attacked out front.”

He suffered through the pat-down and rose slowly when the officer told him to get up. By then they could both hear the approaching siren. The attacker had had plenty of time to disappear.

“Okay to remove my helmet?”

“No.”

This man was no rookie. A helmet could be thrown.

Minutes later Gabe was relieved to see Cassiopia standing out front with a pair of neighbors. She appeared shaken, but unhurt. A marked police cruiser, lights flashing, pulled up. The female officer exchanged greetings with the man at his back.

“You can take it off now,” the cop told him.

Gabe removed the helmet slowly and waited. They didn’t seem to notice Cassiopia’s shocked surprise at seeing him. The cop at his back spoke before she could say anything that would have landed him in handcuffs.

“Cassy, do you know this guy?”

Instead of denouncing him, she nodded.

“Gabriel Lowe. He went after the man who grabbed my purse.”

Gabe sensed the officer putting away his weapon.

“You can lower your hands now.”

Faces continued to appear in windows as a second cruiser joined the first. A small crowd gathered to listen while Cassiopia explained what had happened. Then it was Gabe’s turn. The cops eyed his scar and treated him with wary respect as he explained his assumption that the person had gone in through the nearest gate and jumped the fence into the next yard.

“I only saw you,” her neighbor stated.

A third unit pulled into the parking area.

“He’s probably long gone, but we’d better do a sweep,” the female officer suggested.

Eventually, Gabe was allowed to retrieve his bike from the side yard. As he walked it back to the parking lot Cassiopia strode over to him.

“You followed me home!”

“No need for thanks.”

“Thank you?” She bristled.

“You’re welcome. And you might want to lower your voice unless you want to explain to the cops how we know each other.”

“You wouldn’t dare!”

Gabe waited.

She fumed, but lowered her voice. “Why did you follow me?”

“To see where you were going. Do you know who attacked you?”

“Of course not! You heard me tell the police he was wearing a hooded sweatshirt with a scarf over his face.”

There was no use pointing out that the one didn’t negate the other.

“Is your roommate home?”

“I don’t have a roommate.” She blinked in sudden comprehension. “Oh. The hair dye. Betsy moved out last month. She got married.”

He scowled. He didn’t like thinking about Cassiopia alone and vulnerable inside that town house.

“You might want to stay somewhere else tonight.”

“Why? He already got my purse. The house is safe. My keys were in my hand so he didn’t get them. It all happened so fast I didn’t have time to go for his eyes with them.”

She would have done it, too.

“You believe it was a simple purse snatching?”

“Of cour—”

Her eyes turned to saucers. Her voice dropped even lower.

“No one knew I was going to your place tonight.”

“Not even Beacher?”

“You think that was Beacher?”

Though obviously shocked by the idea, her words were barely above a whisper.