Susan Sleeman - Dead Wrong

They headed toward a train crossing with red lights already flashing and a thick wooden gate lowering.

“Gotcha,” Mitch said as he mentally prepared to apprehend the killer.

But the van sped up and crashed through the gate, sending debris flying. He whooshed across the track inches ahead of a train.

Mitch slammed on his brakes, his car fishtailing to a stop seconds before the rumbling train thundered across the tracks. Slamming his fist on the wheel, he radioed the killer’s location. He was out of the chase now. When the train cleared, the killer would be long gone. Mitch could only hope one of the officers on the other side of the tracks would catch him.

Adrenaline ebbing, he backed up and retraced his route to the house at a more sedate speed. No need to race back and risk an accident. He’d been gone long enough for paramedics and patrol officers to have freed Kat from the restraints and tended to her injuries. Now he’d have to take her statement.

If she was willing to talk to him—and that was a big if.

Seven years had passed since she’d declared her rookie crush on him. Though he’d tried to let her down easy by telling her about his policy not to date coworkers, she hadn’t taken the rejection well. Well, hah! She’d taken it badly. Very badly. They’d been able to work in the same department, but man, it was tense every time they’d run into each other before she left the force.

Not knowing what to expect from her, he turned onto the street and spotted Tommy’s car parked near two cruisers and an ambulance, their lights swirling into the fog. Good, this was better than Mitch had hoped. Tommy would take Kat’s statement while Mitch worked the other aspects of the investigation.

Tommy jogged down the front steps as Mitch parked.

“Glad to see you’re here already,” he said, climbing from his car. “How’d you hear about it?”

“I’d barely gotten out of my appointment and stopped my phone from forwarding when a uniform called to tell me what had happened.” Tommy looked at Mitch’s empty backseat. “I see you didn’t apprehend the suspect.”

“A train got in my way, but uniforms are still in pursuit.”

Tommy mumbled something under his breath and tipped his head at Kat who sat on the front porch with a medic ministering to her. “Kat’s friend didn’t make it, and she’s really freaked out.”

“Any idea what’s going on here?”

“It has to do with a case she’s working on, but I couldn’t get the details out of her.”

Odd. Tommy could make even the most noncompliant suspect confess, so why couldn’t he get the woman who’d sat next to him in a patrol car for five years to tell him what was happening? Maybe Kat had completely collapsed—although that would be another oddity, as she was one of the strongest women he’d ever met.

“She too upset to talk?”

“Nah, it’s me. I kinda blew up at her.” No surprise, there. Tommy’s Irish temper often got in the way. “When I saw what the creep did to her, I lectured her about going in without backup.”

“You didn’t.”

“I know. I know.” He held up his hands. “We both would’ve done the same thing, and I had no business yelling at her.” They were taught to protect life at all costs and sometimes that meant risking your own. “But man, he could’ve killed her. And I—” He shrugged.

“You lost it.”

“Yeah, and now she’s upset with me on top of everything else. So can you talk to her? You know, help her deal?”

Not at all what Mitch expected him to say, not with his history with Kat.

“Can’t you call her family to help?”

“Trust me. The last thing Kat would want is for me to call them. She’s too independent for that.”

Mitch knew Tommy was right, but that still didn’t make Mitch the best one to help. “You know I’m not the right choice for this.”

Tommy raised a brow. “What? You talking about the way you brushed her off? That was a long time ago. I’m not sure she even remembers it.”

Mitch wasn’t as certain. When the medic headed for her rig, he looked at Kat, hoping to judge her mood.

Sitting with her legs pulled up tight in the circle of her arms and her head resting on her knees, she met his gaze. Anguish flowed from her expressive eyes. Her nose had stopped bleeding but was already swelling. Probably broken.

“Look at her, man,” Tommy said as she lifted an ice pack to her face. “How can you say no?”

She shivered and stared into the night, her eyes vacant and full of pain. Mitch hadn’t seen her for two years, maybe longer. Not since her adoptive parents’ funeral. They were murdered in a robbery gone wrong. Her adoptive father was a former police officer so all the rank and file had shown up to pay their respects.

He’d watched her that day, unable to take his eyes off her as she stood in her dress blues for the very last time in her career. Perfect posture keeping her back stiff, shoulders high, arms at her side. Looking strong and in control. Until he caught sight of the raw pain in her eyes and his heart turned over and broke for her.

But now? Now he didn’t know what he was feeling and that scared him more than he’d like to admit. But he just couldn’t walk away.

“Fine. I’ll do it,” he said. “But I’m not to blame if it upsets her even more.”

“Just handle her with kid gloves and you’ll be fine.”

Mitch headed for the house. Kid gloves, right. How was he supposed to do that when each step gave him a better look at how this creep had beaten her up, making him madder than he’d been in years?

He fisted his hand. He had to keep things professional. Do his job. Encourage her to recount her horrifying experience. Then help her deal and do everything within his power to catch the killer before he came back to finish the job.

TWO

Kat couldn’t get her heart rate to slow, and the thunderous look on Mitch Elliot’s face as he strode up the walk didn’t do anything to help. She should look away from the man who’d once rejected her, but she couldn’t take her eyes off him.

Over six feet, and dark, he looked dangerous coming out of the mist. Not dangerous like the suspect, but dangerous like a man who refused to be ignored. He always managed to get to her in a way that tested her decision to steer clear of relationships.

The wind gusted, ballooning out his jacket and blowing tiny needles of rain in her face. She shivered, a tremor starting at her neck and working down her body.

Mitch stopped in front of her and, without a word, he shrugged out of his windbreaker and handed it to her. As the jacket dangled from his finger, she thought to refuse it, but another shiver had her sliding her arms into the sleeves and feeling the gray flannel lining laced with his musky scent resting soft against her neck.

He took a deep breath and squatted in front of her. Closer than she’d like, he didn’t make eye contact. Instead, he stared beyond her—maybe at the door or at the officer standing watch. He needed a shave and in this hazy light, he looked more like a bad boy than a homicide detective.

“You give anyone your statement?” he finally asked, still not looking at her.

“Not formally.” She looked at her hands, remembering how she’d clawed the killer. “I scratched the suspect and the tech scraped my nails for evidence, but otherwise Tommy’s kept me out here.”

Despite the warmth of his jacket and the scent of his cologne clinging to the fabric, she shuddered again, and that seemed to bring his assessing, steel-blue eyes her way. “You’re in shock, Kat.”

“Huh?”

“Shock. That’s why you’re shivering.”

“I’m fine. I just need a moment.” Intending to talk with Tommy—maybe escape the piercing eyes that seemed to cut to her core—she rose. Her vision blurred on the edges, and she swayed.