P. Alderman - A Killing Tide

The United States soccer team scored a goal, and she let out a whoop. Then she removed the firing pin from the Glock, inspecting it closely for wear. The only use the gun had ever seen was on the firing range, but still, a careful cop kept her equipment in top condition.

Sykes had gotten the warrant issued for Gary's arrest in record time, dropping it on her desk the night before. He'd also assigned two more teams of cops to search for Gary, putting Clint Jackson in charge. And that worried the hell out of her, because Clint wasn't, to put it mildly, her first choice for the job. Of course, her opinion might be colored by the fact that Clint was a redneck, chauvinist asshole who got off by objectifying women. The guy made her see red every time he swaggered into the squad room. She didn't mind being treated like she was one of the guys—that's actually what she preferred. But Clint had let it be known more than once that he thought any skills she had were best demonstrated in the bedroom.

Still, no matter what her personal feelings were about him, she was convinced she was right to be worried. She wasn't the only one on the force who thought Clint could be a little too rough on prisoners, not to mention a little too trigger-happy. If Gary decided to put up a fight…she shuddered.

The dumb shit needed to turn himself in. Why the hell hadn't he made contact with her? Surely he trusted her. He had to know she'd do whatever she could to ensure that he was treated fairly.

Maybe he trusted her, but didn't have the confidence in her ability to help him. She pondered that while she ran a small brush through the barrel of her gun, scouring it of any gunpowder residue, then shook her head, muttering under her breath. No. She was just being insecure, which was a bad habit of hers. Gary knew she was good at her job, and he also knew she was loyal to her friends. She'd never given him any reason to think she'd let him down.

She sensed rather than heard a movement in the doorway and looked up. Then jumped a foot. "Shit!"

As if she had conjured him out of thin air, Gary leaned against the doorjamb, watching her with an amused expression. "Jesus, McGuire. You clean your gun at 6:30 in the morning?"

"You scared the hell out of me!" she shouted at him. "Don't do that—I could've shot you."

"Your gun is in itty bitty pieces."

"I can have it back together in under seven seconds."

"Yeah, and I can render you unconscious in under two."

She already should've pulled her backup gun, and she cursed the lack of caffeine in her system that was making her brain function like molasses. "You here to turn yourself in?"

Gary grunted and moved out of the doorway. Keeping a wary eye on her picture window, he leaned over and picked up her coffee mug, draining it. When the taste registered, he grimaced. "Christ. What the hell is this?"

She snatched the mug away from him and headed for the kitchen to refill it. "I reheated yesterday's."

"You're hopeless in the cooking department, you know that?" he said, following her. He leaned against the counter, muscular arms crossed, looking tall and lethal in his camouflaged army fatigues and grease paint. "Convince Kaz to lay off. I don't want her mixed up in this."

" You convince her."

"I tried—she isn't buying it."

So he'd been to the house and talked to Kaz. Lucy handed him the coffee mug, then palmed the .38 she'd retrieved from the kitchen drawer, pointing it at him. "I've got to arrest you, Gary. I can help you, but I have to take you in."

He shook his head. "Point that somewhere else, will you? I don't want you losing that infamous temper of yours and shooting me."

"Hands behind your head, fingers interlocked. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you do say—"

Carrying his coffee, he walked over to the refrigerator, looking inside. "Got anything to eat besides pizza? I'm a vegetarian these days."

"You can't just ignore me!"

He shut the door, sighing. "You're not going to shoot me, Luce, and I'm not going to turn myself in. So put that thing down, before I feel the need to take it away from you."

"I'd like to see you try," she snarled.

He grinned and winked. "And I'd like nothing better than to try, darlin'. But I've got places to go, people to see."

Pure, hot, sexual awareness arrowed through her, heating her. She swore, de-cocked the gun, and laid it on the kitchen table. Dropping into a chair, she rubbed her face. No way was she going to let him see how much he'd gotten to her with one remark and a sexy smile. "Okay, what d'you want to talk about?"

"Kaz. Convince her to go back to California." Gary's brows snapped together. "Hell, you're the one who called her and told her to come back. So fix it."

"You know about that?" Lucy felt the guilt slide through her.

"Yeah. What a dumbass move."

She bristled at his remark, but he had a point. Kaz was acting recklessly, and displaying a tenacious stubbornness that was half the reason Lucy had had a sleepless night. And it was her fault that Kaz was even involved. "Like Kaz is listening to me any more than to you," she pointed out.

He sat down in the chair opposite her, and she noticed for the first time how exhausted and anxious he looked. Her stomach started to churn as she considered what could make a bad-ass, ex-Army Ranger like Gary so paranoid. "Can't you arrest her or something?" he asked.

"Phil would have her out in an hour, you know that."

"Then put her in protective custody."

"Gee, all our officers are busy out looking for you."

He grunted. "I noticed. Okay, so move in with her."

"Gary…" She shook her head, then folded her arms. "I've heard rumors for a couple of weeks now about the fishermen. Care to tell me if they're true?"

"No."

"Want to confide in me about what you're doing?"

"No."

She gritted her teeth. "Where were you the night before last while the Anna Marie was burning down to the waterline?"

"Camping."

"Try again," she shot back. "I saw you in the photos Chapman took of the crowd."

He shrugged. "I went to the mooring basin to spend the night on the trawler, but I hooked up with Chuck instead. Satisfied?"

"Not by a long shot." He wasn't telling her everything, and the knowledge that he didn't trust her to help him hurt so much she was having trouble breathing. She forced herself to pin him with her hardest interrogation stare. "Did you go onto the Anna Marie?"

"No." He leaned forward, close enough to pump up her pulse rate. His eyes shone with a feverish intensity. "You know I didn't kill Ken. Quit playing cop for just one damn minute and listen to me. Kaz is in real danger. Did she tell you someone broke into her house last night?"

Lucy swore.

He smiled grimly. "Yeah, I didn't figure she'd raced to the phone to call you."

"Do you know what they wanted?"

"Yeah."

She glared at him. "You going to share with me?"

"No." He stood and walked to the back door. "Figure out a way to keep her safe—that's all I'm asking."

"You can't just waltz out the door! I'm an officer of the law and there's a warrant out for your arrest."

"You never saw me—I wasn't here." He paused in the open doorway. His expression was hard, but his eyes were haunted. She shivered as cool air wafted over her. "Watch your back, Luce."

Two seconds later, he was gone, and she was left sitting alone in her kitchen, listening to the quiet ticking of the clock on the wall and the sounds of the soccer match playing in the background.

Well, hell.

~~~~

Chapter 15

When Kaz awoke around nine, her first sleep-fogged thought was that she felt like a mummy, wrapped from shoulders to toes. Then she remembered that Zeke was stretched out along one side of her, on top of the covers.