A Cop's Promise Read online

  Can digging up the past...lead to her future?

  Rookie cop Lana Lettino joined the force for one reason: to solve her brother’s eight-year-old murder. She never imagined the evidence would lead to Chip Peterson, former boy next door and Lana’s current sexy distraction. But as Lana digs deeper into the cold case, she suspects Chip less and less...and falls for him more and more. Will her search lead to the truth...and a happily-ever-after?

  “What aren’t you telling me?” Chip asked.

  Lana shook her head and reached high into her cabinet for plates. Chip moved to her side and reached over her head to grab them, brushing her fingers in the process. Their gazes locked when she smiled up at him.

  For a crazy moment he wanted to crush her against him and kiss her until they were both senseless. Or at least until she forgot all about her murder investigation.

  He lowered his arms and handed her two plates.

  “Thanks.” She moved into the dining room.

  Watching the gentle swing of her hips, Chip mentally kicked himself. Lana was out of his reach. Obsessed with her brother’s death, she was out of anyone’s reach...

  Dear Reader,

  I’m thrilled that Harlequin is publishing The Rookie Files, my miniseries about a group of police officers who begin their careers together.

  A Cop’s Promise, the second in the series, is Lana’s story. When Lana Lettino’s older brother is stabbed to death, the police are unable to solve the case and Lana promises her grieving mother she will find the murderer. To keep that promise, she becomes a law enforcement officer and discovers she likes solving cold cases. In the course of Lana’s investigation—one not sanctioned by her superior officers—she reconnects with an old friend, sparks fly and painful truths about the past are revealed. I loved writing about Lana’s journey, and I hope you enjoy reading it.

  I also love hearing from readers! Please visit my website at sharonshartley.com.

  Sharon

  SHARON

  HARTLEY

  A Cop’s Promise

  Sharon Hartley is so fascinated by cops and the dangerous people who complicate their world that she attends every citizens’ police academy she can find. Having worked as a court reporter for many years, Sharon plays “what if” on her old cases and comes up with fictional ways to inject them into her stories. After time on the computer creating plots where the bad guys try to hurt the good ones, she calms herself by teaching yoga, plus hiking and birding in the natural world. Sharon lives in St. Petersburg, Florida, with her soul mate, Max, hundreds of orchids and a Jack Russell Terrorist. Please visit her website at sharonshartley.com.

  Books by Sharon Hartley

  Harlequin Superromance

  The Florida Files

  The South Beach Search

  Accidental Bodyguard

  Stranded with the Captain

  Her Cop Protector

  To Trust a Cop

  The Rookie Files

  The Billionaire’s Son

  Visit the Author Profile page at Harlequin.com.

  Join Harlequin My Rewards today and earn a FREE ebook!

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  For Randy Clark, The White Whale,

  the best brother-in-law ever.

  You are missed by many.

  Contents

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  EXCERPT FROM GUARDING HIS FORTUNE BY STELLA BAGWELL

  EXCERPT FROM THE AUSTEN PLAYBOOK BY LUCY PARKER

  CHAPTER ONE

  LANA LETTINO SEARCHED the animated faces crowding the noisy Biltmore Hotel ballroom. Everyone was laughing, drinking, glancing toward the door as they waited for the guest of honor.

  Which one of you was it?

  Someone in this room had murdered her older brother.

  She took a deep breath and then exhaled slowly. Which one of these people had been evil enough to plunge a knife into the gut of a nineteen-year-old, and then leave him alone to bleed out like an animal?

  Had it truly been eight years? That loss still haunted her every day. Her already damaged mother had become a different person, a woman who had never gotten over the death of her oldest child.

  “Damn, Lana,” Dale whispered in her ear. “Lighten up.”

  “What?” She glanced at her date for the evening. Tall, with spiky brown hair, Dale Baldwin was a good-looking dude, but only a colleague she’d asked to accompany her tonight to help check out suspects. “I’m not doing anything.”

  “You’re canvassing the room like you’re trying to select which suspect to interrogate first. Or go ten rounds with.”

  “Shh,” she hissed. “No one here knows I’m a cop, and I don’t want them to.”

  “How the hell did you manage that?”

  “I haven’t had much contact with anyone since—” She swallowed. “Since my senior year in high school.”

  Since Dan’s funeral.

  “Just keep your eyes and ears open for anybody who acts weird when the name Daniel Lettino is mentioned,” she reminded Dale.

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said, nodding toward a group of former cheerleaders.

  Lana followed his gaze. The twins had actually worn their old uniforms. Jeez. She’d burned hers the day they buried Danny.

  Cindy Arroyo, their captain and Dan’s former girlfriend, motioned Lana over to join them. Lana ignored her, knowing Cindy wanted to perform one of their old cheer routines.

  “There are a few young ladies present that I definitely need to meet,” Dale said, his gaze lingering on Cindy.

  “The murderer isn’t female,” Lana objected. “I’ve narrowed my suspects to a member of the team or a coach.”

  “Those fine specimens of womanhood look like a team.”

  “I mean the football team,” she said.

  Dale grinned, his focus still on the women. Cindy, having noticed Dale’s attention, threw back her shoulders, no doubt an attempt to show off her breasts, which were mysteriously larger than Lana remembered, and headed toward them. Lana sighed. Maybe she should have asked Sean to escort her. Dale was an excellent observer, but such a womanizer.

  “Lana,” Cindy said when she arrived, her gaze on Dale.

  “Cindy.”

  “Are you going to introduce me to your date?” Cindy asked.

  After introductions, Cindy held on to Dale’s hand just a little too long before turning to Lana.

  “Did you get my email? Of course you’re going to join us for two bits,” Cindy stated.

  Lana shrugged. “I’m not in much of a cheering mood.”

  “Why? Okay. Maybe you’ve gained a little weight, but you still look good.”

  “Gee, thanks, Cindy,” Lana said. Beside her, Dale strangled a laugh.

  When o
ne of the other cheerleaders pulled Cindy away, Lana breathed a sigh of relief. Now she could continue her surveillance.

  She’d finally completed her police training, was off probation, and now had the skills and the resources to locate Danny’s murderer.

  She’d decided to attend this party because all of the suspects would be together in one place. She could study them. Take notes. Find evidence of a lie or a tell, of someone hiding something.

  Someone would make a mistake and say the wrong thing.

  “I think I need to get to know your friend Cindy better,” Dale said.

  “You and everyone else,” Lana muttered. Cindy had constantly broken up with Danny, making him, and thus everyone in her family, miserable.

  Dale laughed as Lana brought her glass to her mouth but only sipped the chardonnay. She intended to stay stone-cold sober while everyone else at this reunion got happy and sloppy. Careless.

  Bubba Jones, once a linebacker and tonight’s lookout, burst into the room. “He’s coming.”

  “Quiet, everyone.”

  The room grew still except for a laugh or two. Lana heard the hum of the air conditioner in the background. A cough. Another nervous giggle.

  A minute later, the doors opened again. Coach Xavier Robertson and his wife entered the hushed room.

  “Surprise!”

  Coach Robby, his hair now gray, stepped back as if staggered. Lana was close enough to see tears in his eyes, which he immediately swiped away with a shaky hand. Then he was surrounded by his former athletes, clapping him on the back, congratulating him on his retirement.

  Everyone had to come and pay respect to their beloved Coach Robby. This was meant to be a celebration, a chance to relive exciting, fun times with old schoolmates.

  Lana smiled as the sound of Coach Robertson’s boisterous laughter reached her ears. So, Beth Robertson had managed to keep this surprise party a secret. When Lana had called in her RSVP, Beth had told her all of the players from his state championship team had accepted the invite. Lana swallowed hard. All except one.

  This was Danny’s team. Her brother wasn’t here because he was in a cold, dark grave.

  She smiled welcomingly at Coach Robby as he approached. He gathered her close and gave her a big hug. As he squeezed, cool liquid splashed onto her ankle, his awkward hug having caused wine to spill out of her glass. Dale raised his eyebrows at her over the coach’s shoulder.

  “Good to see you, Lana,” Coach said when he pulled back, his words slurred, telling her he’d already indulged in a drink or two before leaving home for what he’d been told was a dinner out with Beth. Lana hadn’t seen Coach since the funeral and was sorry he hadn’t been able to escape the curse of aging men—a rounded belly that hinted at too many beers and not enough exercise.

  “Good to see you, too, Coach,” she said. “You were like a father to Dan.”

  His smile faded. A flash of something passed through his eyes. Pain? Regret?

  Maybe the weight gain stemmed from something else. Like guilt? Eight years ago his body had been toned and muscled, in as good shape as his athletes. The cops had looked at Coach Robertson as a suspect that summer, but his wife had provided an alibi.

  And no way. This man would never harm Danny. Coach had loved his star quarterback. Everyone did.

  Yet hadn’t there been some conflict about Dan’s grades senior year and a possible benching, which would have ruined the team’s season?

  Danny had always bragged about how he didn’t have to work hard at his classes, that all his teachers gave him a free pass. Except Mr. Feldman, the way-too-serious biology teacher. Rumor was that he’d complained to Principal Norton, and Norton had gone to Coach. Funny how Feldman hadn’t returned to Southeast High after the Thanksgiving holiday.

  Had he been fired? Did that have something to do with Dan’s grades? That was another lead she needed to look at again.

  She’d stick close to Coach tonight. She’d listen and observe as his players paid their respects. Every teammate would talk about Dan at some point. And she’d be listening.

  Coach released a sigh. “Dan should be here.”

  “Yes,” Lana agreed quietly, hoping her voice didn’t catch. “He should.”

  “How is your mother?” Coach asked.

  “She’s okay,” Lana lied. “She thought about coming but decided it would be too painful to see Dan’s old friends.”

  Coach nodded. “I get that.”

  “Coach Robby.”

  Chip Peterson moved beside them and shook Coach’s hand.

  “Chip. Goddamn. How are you, son?”

  “Doing great, sir. Congratulations on your retirement.”

  “Still playing ball?”

  “No, sir. I’m in my first year of law school at the University of Miami.”

  “Weren’t you on the team at U of F? Played wide receiver, I recall.”

  “Yes, sir. But I graduated.”

  “Didn’t give the pros a whirl?”

  “Not good enough, sir.”

  “Oh, I don’t know about that.”

  “Danny was the one headed for the NFL,” Chip said.

  Lana stepped closer when she heard Danny’s name, evaluating Chip Peterson as the coach and former player caught up. Chip had clenched his jaw when he spoke Danny’s name, but that was to be expected.

  Of all the people here, she’d known Chip the longest. She used to call him The Chipper, although he’d hated that nickname. As kids, they’d lived on the same street and played together almost every day.

  Until the eighth grade, when she and what was left of her family had moved to a less expensive neighborhood.

  She narrowed her eyes. Chip had always been cute, but he’d turned into one fine male specimen. Tall and lean, with muscled shoulders and arms. Streaked blond hair that only came from a lot of time in the sun. Piercing blue eyes.

  He and Dan had once been good friends. Best friends, in fact. But they’d had a falling-out during their senior year, an actual fistfight, resulting in a huge crowd, bloody noses and ripped shirts. After that they stopped speaking to each other except when it came to football. And Dan had insisted she stay away from Chip.

  Dan would never say what the argument had been about. Because of that, her mother always insisted Chip had been involved in Danny’s murder. More evidence to be reevaluated.

  “Hey, Lana,” Chip said, focusing those blue eyes on her. “Didn’t mean to ignore you.”

  “No problem, Chip. How’ve you been?”

  “Doing good.” Chip turned to her escort. “Chip Peterson,” he said, holding out his hand.

  “I’m sorry,” Lana said. “Chip, this is my date, Dale Baldwin.” She’d almost said “Officer” Dale Baldwin.

  “Pleased to meet you,” Chip said, giving Dale a long, assessing look.

  And what was that about?

  Raven-haired Carlos Rodriguez, who’d been a running back, joined their group. Carlos and Coach hugged, slapping each other on the back.

  “Carlos, my man,” Chip said as they shook hands.

  “What’s up, bro?”

  They quickly got involved in a heated discussion about the Dolphins’ new center, and Carlos and Chip moved toward the bar. Gary Shotwell, the team’s manager, arrived next to speak to Coach. Well, well. From the size of his shoulders, redheaded Gary had definitely been hitting the gym. In high school he’d been built more like a track star than a football player. She’d never considered him tight with the guys, but hadn’t Dan always liked Gary? She thought back to a conversation they’d had about him. Dan had said he felt sorry for Gary.

  Lana watched the interaction, waiting for Dan to be mentioned. She knew he would be eventually. Her brother had been the heart and soul of this team, the star, the unquestioned leader. His absence was like the proverbial elephant in the room. I
mpossible to ignore.

  Dan had led this team to Southeast Miami High School’s first and only state championship and received a full ride to play ball at the University of Miami. Yes, Danny should be here.

  As each guest approached Coach to have a word, Lana made mental notes. As predicted, Dan’s name came up over and over. No doubt bored by talk about things and people he knew nothing about, Dale drifted away to hit on Cindy.

  Lana narrowed her eyes as she watched Cindy, remembering how depressed Dan had been when Cindy had broken it off with him the last time. She had to admit the former cheer captain looked damn good tonight. No wonder Dale was smitten.

  Evidence suggested the murderer was male, but Cindy had always been athletic and strong. After that last breakup, Dan had started dating a girl from Miami High, and Cindy hadn’t liked that one bit. Jealousy, of course, was a great motive. Lana needed to talk to Cindy. Perhaps she’d participate in that stupid cheer after all.

  When Artie Dean arrived, an image of the aggressive way he’d fought for passes thrown by the other team’s quarterback sprang into Lana’s mind. Art’s mouth tightened when Coach mentioned Danny, and she tucked that little grimace away for future reflection. Had Art and Danny been close? She took another tiny sip of wine. She needed to check her old notes. Hadn’t there been some sort of team conflict swirling around Art and Dan?

  She reminded herself she was a patient woman. She’d waited eight years to nail the son of a bitch who had killed a young man who was full of promise.

  She could wait a little longer.

  * * *

  WATCHING LANA, CHIP PETERSON leaned against the bar. It had been eight years and of course she’d changed, but she was still as pretty as he remembered. No, actually her prettiness had matured into true beauty...and her body had matured, as well. In all the right places.

  Her dark hair was shorter now and barely brushed her shoulders. Her deep-set brown eyes missed nothing. Just like when they were kids and playing in her front yard with her little sister and sometimes Dan. He smiled remembering how harshly she’d judged any infraction of the rules, how she’d lectured him about what she considered his reckless skateboarding.