To Trust a Cop Read online

  Surprised but impressed by his caution, Merlene signed for a small package from a FedEx deliveryman.

  “You’ll be relieved to know I’ll be off your radar for a few days,” she said, returning to the table.

  “Where are you going?”

  “Ocala.” She ripped open the envelope and produced two keys. “Mrs. Johnson wants me to check out the ranch, make sure it’s safe for her and the kids. She’s not real anxious to move back to their house on Granada until it’s cleaned up, but wants to be closer to Miami.”

  “When are you leaving?”

  Merlene glanced up at the obvious disapproval in Cody’s voice. Why would he care if she went to Ocala?

  “Tomorrow morning. Do you have a problem with that?”

  She tried to look away when their gazes locked, but something in his cool blue gaze held her. No, not cool. Warm. Worried. Could he be worried about her?

  Cody reached back and rubbed his neck. “No problem,” he said. “Just be careful.”

  “Count on it, Detective.” She sat down at the table and studied the pictures Cody had placed in two neat rows. Nobody looked the least bit familiar. Wait... She picked up a photo of a fortyish, dark-haired man.

  “This was the driver,” she said. “I’m sure of it.”

  Cody moved closer. “Good work. That’s Neville Feldman. Keep going.”

  She tried to concentrate on the images, but became hyperaware of Cody and the spicy scent of his aftershave. He leaned over her, one hand on the back of her chair, one hand resting on the table. Warmth slid into her tense muscles, along with the languorous sensation of being wrapped in his protective embrace. His breath fluttered a wisp of her hair, tickling her cheek. Her breasts rose and fell dangerously close to his muscled forearm. Her gaze strayed to his fingers and neatly trimmed nails. How would those hands feel cupped against her—

  “Does anyone else look familiar?”

  She dragged her attention back to the photographs. After a moment, she picked up a picture of a young man with stringy blond hair sporting a sly smile.

  “I can’t be sure, but maybe this one,” she said.

  Cody’s fingers brushed hers when he took the photograph. “Ray Price.” Cody nodded. “He and Feldman served time together.”

  She stared at the photo. “Yeah, that’s him. I’m sure.”

  “Time to pay Mr. Price a visit and determine if he has an alibi the night of Johnson’s murder,” Cody said. “If not, you’ll have to do a live lineup when we find him.”

  “Will you be there?”

  “Of course. Don’t worry. He won’t be able to see you.”

  “Just like in the movies,” she said, trying to make light of the idea of identifying a murder accomplice. Nothing about the process seemed funny, though.

  He shoved the photographs back in his file. She liked the confident way he moved, felt reassured by the strength of his well-toned body. How had her life gotten entangled with Cody Warren’s so quickly? She’d known him less than a week and yet he felt strangely like...what? The quick brush of his fingers had caused her pulse to take off like a baby dove attempting first flight. Still, she felt safe with him.

  Loud ringing broke into her thoughts and they both turned to look at the phone by the couch. She checked the caller ID.

  “Unavailable,” she said. “Like before.”

  “Let your machine answer.”

  She did as he instructed, but the connection went to dial tone without a message.

  “See. I got sick of it,” she said, watching Cody for his reaction.

  A muscle in his right jaw twitched. “You’re probably right,” he said. “Most likely kids.”

  * * *

  AN UNEASY FEELING settled in Cody’s gut on the way to his unmarked police cruiser. Again something was wrong. What was with all those calls? He surveyed Merlene’s quiet neighborhood, comparing what he’d observed on arrival with the scene now.

  Nothing looked out of place. Nothing different.

  He didn’t think the calls were kids playing a prank. Too many calls, and no cop believed in coincidences.

  He glanced back once more to Merlene’s home and frowned. The front and sides were lined with lush, attractive foliage—an easy location for anyone to hide.

  Too bad she didn’t have a dog. Or an alarm. Shouldn’t a P.I. have a damn alarm? Neville Feldman would have no difficulty surprising Merlene in her sleep. Could those mysterious hang-ups be him calling to figure out her schedule?

  Cody hesitated, his hand on the car door, and admitted to himself that he was worried about her. He’d warned her, but would she take the situation seriously? Feldman could have other methods to unearth who’d made that video. She definitely wouldn’t appreciate his security suggestions.

  The idea of her being in danger lit up every protective instinct he possessed, made him want to camp out on her front step. What was it about her that made him feel that way? She surely didn’t ask for his protection. Hell, she much preferred to push him away.

  He jerked open the door and slid into the seat. She might not like it, but until she left town he’d keep an eye on her. Lieutenant Montoya wanted him to, anyway—just for another reason.

  * * *

  AFTER A LONG, hot shower, Merlene shrugged on an extra-large cotton T-shirt and stretched her bare legs out on the comfy couch. At least she’d be dressed for bed tonight if she conked out in front of the TV again. Nestled against the cushioned arm of the sofa, she brought a cup of steaming chamomile tea to her lips and ventured a tentative sip of the warm, honeyed brew.

  Tomorrow she’d say goodbye to the big city. She’d packed a small suitcase with a change of clothing and planned to leave first thing in the morning. Her plan was to be gone only one night, but leaving the turmoil of the past few days behind would be heavenly. Maybe some distance would allow her to gain control over her attraction to Cody. The man managed to drift into her thoughts constantly. But how could she stop thinking about him with the constant developments in this crazy case?

  Like her discussion with Pat Johnson a few hours ago when Merlene had phoned to confirm receipt of the ranch keys.

  “Oh, good,” Pat had said. “By the way, you’ll be pleased to know I gave you a fabulous recommendation today.”

  “What do you mean?” Merlene asked, thinking her client’s words sounded slurred, like she might be under the influence of a sleeping pill or tranquilizer.

  “I’ve been telling people up here about the excellent work you’ve done for me, and someone wanted your name and number. I gave them a glowing report about you.”

  “Someone?” Merlene repeated. “You gave out my name to a person you don’t know?” Huge alarm bells clanged inside her skull.

  “To a friend of a friend. Well, the agency’s name. After all, you are going to need a new job after the trip to Ocala.”

  Immediately after that disturbing conversation, Merlene had double checked every possible entrance to her house. No one could get in without making a lot of noise, but still she felt uneasy, exposed. If she was honest, she had to admit that the new widow hadn’t sounded particularly bereft.

  Merlene sighed and took another sip of the warm tea. But everyone grieved differently, and her client was likely sedated. To lose a husband, even a cheating one, in such a brutal manner...

  The door chime startled Merlene back to reality. Who the heck? She placed her eye over the tiny hole in the front door and got a distorted view of Cody Warren, his arms propped on either side of the doorway.

  Annoyed at the quick gallop of her heart, she pulled her T-shirt lower on her legs and opened the door.

  He strode into the living room full of deadly purpose. When he reached the couch, he pivoted to face her. “In an hour, Channel Eight is going on the air to report that you videoed
two men arriving at the Johnson house seconds before his murder.”

  “How did—”

  “They spotted your car in their live report from the murder scene and ran the plates. It didn’t take long to find your P.I. license. Vanessa Cooper is on the way to set up a remote.” He took a deep breath. “We need to leave ASAP in case Neville Feldman watches the news.”

  Merlene hugged her arms and gaped at him. “You think he’ll come here?”

  Cody shrugged. “The hang-ups could have been Neville.”

  A chill ran the length of her spine. “Pat gave some man my name and number. He told her he was impressed with my work on the case and had another job for me. I considered he could have been a reporter, but...” Merlene trailed off. “She’s promised help with future jobs. She thought she was giving me a good recommendation.”

  Cody’s face tightened. “Yeah, a recommendation for a death sentence. It could easily have been Neville. He’d have all Johnson’s numbers.” He glanced around the room. “Is that your bag for the trip tomorrow?”

  Merlene nodded. Good Lord. Her life was spinning out of control.

  “Good,” he said, his gaze raking her naked legs. “Put on some clothes and let’s get out of here.”

  She opened her mouth to object but stopped herself. If a gun-toting murderer was looking for her, she definitely didn’t want to be where he expected to find her. And who better to be with than a man with a gun of his own?

  “Give me one minute.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  “WHERE ARE WE GOING?” Merlene asked when they’d pulled out of her driveway.

  Cody accelerated onto Bird Road. “I want you to spend the night at my apartment.” She’d turned to reach for her seatbelt, but swiveled to face him. “Your apartment?”

  “The building has good security. No one can easily get inside.”

  She didn’t speak for a few moments, then said, “I don’t know.”

  Merlene’s nervous tone pulled Cody’s attention back to her. She still wore the oversize pink T-shirt but had pulled on black denim jeans to hide legs that... Cody swallowed, imagining the long expanse of smooth thighs now hidden from his view. No matter what she wore, the woman created an urge to touch her.

  He’d expected an argument about where she’d spend the night.

  “What don’t you know?” he asked, his gaze on headlights in the rearview mirror.

  “Is this some kind of witness protection program?”

  “Do you want to change your identity?” he asked, returning his attention to traffic.

  “Very funny.”

  “I’d just feel better if you got out of town clean tomorrow.” He glanced in the mirror again.

  Merlene adjusted the mirror out her passenger window and peered behind them. “Are we being followed?”

  “Maybe. Don’t turn around, but that Jeep has been back there since we left your street. If he stays with us on the next turn, I’m going to lose him.”

  “Lose him?” Cody felt Merlene’s gaze boring into him. “As in a high-speed chase with screeching tires, flying hubcaps and...and bullets zipping past my ear?” She reached overhead and tightened her seat belt.

  “I sure hope not,” he said. “I wouldn’t want to lose my star witness.”

  He shot her a glance. She sat ramrod straight with her hands clasped tightly in front of her. So much for his lame attempt at humor.

  Giving in to the need to touch her, he smoothed her silken hair and let his hand fall to her shoulder. He hadn’t meant to frighten her.

  Or had he? If she’d handed over the video the night of the murder things would be different. “You’ve been watching too much TV,” he said.

  “Maybe.”

  She closed her eyes, and he squeezed her shoulder to reassure her. She sighed, her muscles relaxing beneath his fingers.

  He returned his hand to the steering wheel, unsure which surprised him more—the fact she actually seemed to trust him or that her confidence could make him feel so good. Hell, just being around Merlene made him feel good.

  He glanced in the rearview mirror again.

  He executed three quick, confusing turns and knew they’d lost their tail...if there’d been one. As they drove toward his apartment in uneasy silence, he wondered if Merlene had affected his judgment. Was he looking for trouble in shadows?

  He’d discovered he couldn’t stomach the thought of her being exposed to danger. When Channel Eight called for confirmation of the identity of the videographer, he’d known he had to protect Merlene from Neville Feldman. Lieutenant Montoya believed the leak came from a clerk in the evidence vault, a man they’d been suspicious of in the past. Cody remembered the clerk, not a sworn officer, had given Merlene a hard time when they’d logged in her recording.

  He’d deal with the man later if the department didn’t.

  She wouldn’t like it, but he’d decided to go with her tomorrow. Now he had to figure out how to convince her without terrifying her. Maybe Feldman wouldn’t pick up her scent, but, damn, what if he did? She’d be an easy target for a killer like Feldman.

  Besides, he knew the Ocala area. When his brother-in-law was alive, they’d regularly fished in the Ocala National Forest at his lakeside cabin, which was still available since Annie couldn’t make up her mind whether to sell.

  A cabin hidden in the woods was the perfect place for them to spend the night.

  Cody viewed his own home in a new light when he opened the door for her. Hell, maybe his sister was right. The place did appear a bit, well, sparse. Except for a fairly new high-def TV resting on a black metal stand, the only other furniture in the living room was a well-worn cloth sofa. He took the few meals eaten at home at the Formica counter between the living room and the kitchen perched on a bar stool.

  He dropped her bag and locked the door behind them.

  After she’d surveyed the apartment with bright and curious eyes, she turned to face him, her usually pale face flushed.

  “Are you all right?” he asked, startled by the color in her cheeks.

  She nodded. “I’m fine.” Her words sounded husky, deeper than her usual voice. She met his gaze. “Where do you want me to sleep?”

  “In my bed.” Cody motioned to a door off the hall.

  She raised her brows but didn’t avert her gaze.

  “I’ll be on the couch.”

  “Ah,” she said. She glanced at the sofa, the only place in the room to sit except the floor.

  “Make yourself comfortable.” Cody grabbed her bag and carried it into his bedroom.

  When he returned, she remained in the center of the room, her huge leather purse still slung over her shoulder. “Maybe I should call D.J. and stay with him,” she suggested.

  Loosening his tie, Cody sank onto the sofa. “That’s the second place Channel Eight will look for you.” He leaned back and locked his hands behind his head. “No one will connect you with me.”

  Her gray eyes sought his. He knew she was searching, considering, trying to figure out if he had a hidden motive. Something must have happened in her life to make her so distrustful. He wanted to know what it was.

  “You’re safer here,” he continued.

  Her mouth curved into a hesitant smile. “Yeah, okay.”

  “Okay,” he repeated. He knew he ought to look away but couldn’t.

  She glanced toward the bedroom door, then back at him. “Are... Will you be going to sleep right away?”

  He laughed. Obviously she had no clue how hard it would be to sleep thinking of her in the next room tucked into his bed. “No,” he said. “I need to catch the eleven-o’clock news.”

  Nodding, she dropped her purse from her shoulder and let it fall to the carpet. “I’m so wired over this whole mess I won’t sleep at all tonigh
t.”

  “You need to rest.”

  “Fat chance. Do you really think Neville Feldman will come after me because of that damn video?”

  “It’s a possibility. With you out of the way, the video would be worthless as evidence. The state needs you to authenticate it.”

  “I scribbled the license tag in my notebook. That’s evidence, right?”

  “But that would need your verification, too.”

  “You could find other proof he’s the killer.”

  “Maybe. And the prosecutor could arrange a deposition to preserve your testimony, but that’ll take time. The video is a sure thing.” He shifted to his right and patted the sofa beside him. “Come sit down.”

  Nibbling on her lower lip, she stared at the space next to him on the couch but didn’t approach.

  He wished he could interpret the little flickers of wariness crossing her face. “Are you afraid of me?”

  She clasped her hands behind her and walked around the room. “I wasn’t in Cody Warren’s witness protection program before I met you.”

  He caught his breath at the teasing note in her voice. She seldom allowed herself to be so playful with him. Instead of joining him on the couch, she moved into the kitchen.

  “Are you hungry?” he called. Damn, did he even have anything to feed her? Why did he never have food in the house? That needed to change.

  “No,” she yelled back. “I couldn’t eat.”

  “Thirsty? I think I’ve got a beer.”

  She reappeared in the doorway. “I don’t drink.”

  “Not even water?”

  “Okay, yeah.” With a sheepish grin, Merlene took a step toward him. “I do drink water.”

  Fascinated, he watched her slim hips fluidly sway from side to side.

  He followed her into the hall, wondering what she was so damn curious about. She poked her nose into the bedroom, then stepped into the bathroom.

  Standing just outside the opening, he gripped both sides of the frame. “Why don’t you tell me what you’re looking for?”

  Her gaze swept the tiny room. “Clues,” she said.