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and get laid. The pain visible in her eyes made him feel like a leech as much as it peaked his curiosity. What would it feel like to love someone so much, after all this time, you still felt their loss so sharp? When he’d decided to follow in the footsteps of his father chances of finding a woman who understood his need to help others no matter the cost were slim to none, so he opted to be a permanent bachelor. He figured it’d be easier on everyone.

His parents had been the perfect couple. They lived across from one another growing up, dated through high school, and married after college graduation. Still, they’d imploded under the demands that came with being an officer. Late nights, cases his dad couldn’t discuss, and constant absentness, had turned what was once a happy home into a war zone. He slammed the lid on the chest of bad memories, opened his top right desk drawer, and pulled out a manila file folder full of paperwork. He gave a quick rundown of the papers, eager to have the sexy temptation he had a soft spot for out of his office. A woman like this was dangerous. She’d make him want to give things he couldn’t.

“What happens next?”

“We hold him on bail and wait for his trial to be scheduled. If you need anything during the waiting period you can contact me.” He pulled a card from the stack on the desk and slid it over to her. “My phone is always on me, but if you do reach my voice mail for some reason, leave a message. I’ll get back to you.”

She took the slip of paper. “Thank you. Do you need anything else from me?”

“No, you’re free to go.”

“Thank you again, Detective Quinn … for everything.”

Chapter Two

“You sure you don’t want me to wait for you?” Devlin paused in front of the door, a conflicted look on her face.

“No, go on home to Jace and Tristan. I know you’re anxious to welcome them to San Diego.” She winked.

“I am. A month is far too long to go without seeing each other, but with inventory in the store, and their jam packed schedule…” Devlin shrugged. “I don’t like leaving you here though.”

“Why? I’ve closed by myself a million times before. We all have.”

“I know, but you’ve been jumpy lately, and not sleeping well.”

“That’s normal after dredging up memories of that night. Even my shrink agreed.”

“I know.”

“Go Dev, seriously. If I wasn’t okay, I’d say so. I know I’m on the edge, but I imagine I will be until this whole thing is said and done.” Claire placed a purse she’d cleaned in the display counter and stood to her full height. “Right now I need normalcy. You’ve all been tiptoeing around, coddling me, and while I love you for it. Knock it off!”

Devlin laughed.

“Okay, okay, I’ll spread the words.” She ran over and embraced Claire. “I owe you one.” She ran for the door, opening it, and locking it behind her.

Claire watched Devlin get into her car and drive off with a smile on her face. She was glad it was working out between the three of them. When she’d come back and told them she was seeing Jace along with his best friend, Tristan, she’d been skeptical, but supportive. Perhaps, some people were lucky enough to find more than one love. She hadn’t been. Even now dating felt wrong. She always compared her dates to Campbell, and none came close to measuring up. How could they? She closed the glass case, locked it, and headed to the back. The drawer was counted out. The deposit bag was locked in the safe for tomorrow. Only thing left was to turn off the main lights, set the alarm, and head home to her apartment.

She frowned. Once her oasis and retreat from day-to-day stress, her home turned into a prison over the past couple of weeks. In the silence her mind worked over time. The night of the robbery replayed in her mind, and every creak and unexplained noise had to be investigated. The trial was set up for a month from now, and ever since she’d gotten the date she swore she saw the gunman’s accomplice. She’d thought about calling Detective Quinn, but pride and fear she was mistaken held her back. It wouldn’t look good for a witness to be getting cold feet and hallucinating. Disgust curdled her stomach. I’m made of sterner stuff. Why am I letting this get inside my head? The only place she managed to find relief these days was at her Roller Derby games when she was forced to use her complete concentration on winning. Thirty more days and this nightmare would be over.

She flicked the last overhead light out, walked over to the wall, armed the alarm, turned to the front door, and jumped. A silhouette stood outside the glass, peering in, and it wasn’t a woman. Her heart rate doubled. Play it cool, some guy’s browsing for his lady. It’s not impossible. Gut instinct made her kneel. A light shone into the window. He had a flashlight! Crouched down by a display a few feet away she was hidden from his view. She inched over and stuck her head out just enough to look up. The tinkle of glass made her spring into action seconds before the store alarm sounded. She was in the back struggling with the lock when an explosion of glass against the wooden floor told her the intruder had abandoned plans of stealth.

Footsteps pounded over wood. The lock turned. She swung open the door and came out the back. The closest place open and public was a gas station, half a mile down the street. She kicked off her heels and ran full out, pumping her legs, swinging her arms. The crunch of feet on gravel behind her told her he’d given chase. Don’t look back! People always fall when they do that. Her lungs burned. The sound of cars whooshing by filled her ears. The station that had been a light in the distance was now a safe haven. The traffic signal on the cross street went from green to yellow. No! Faster, faster. The mantra played in her head on repeat. She ran into the crosswalk on wings of faith. The yellow light would hold. A blaring horn reached her ear as she made it to the opposite side of the road. The light turned red. Cars filled the space between her and the purser. Yards away from the gas station she felt safe—for now. Her eyes strained as she tried to find the man through the sea of vehicles, but the search was fruitless.

Her legs shook as she walked the rest of the way to the gas station. It’s time to call Detective Quinn. She stepped inside the building, and the chime alerted the slender women behind the counter, who eyed her warily. I must be a sight.

“Ma’am, I’m sorry. You can’t be in here with no shoes on.”

“I own the shop up the road, Vintage Vixen. Someone just tried to break in and chased me down here. Can I use your phone?”

“Oh my God, you poor thing, of course. Let’s call the police.” The women jumped into action, waved her over and guided her down into a seat behind the register. She picked up the phone and dialed 9-1-1, talking with the operator while she digested what had occurred.

****

“Hey Quinn, you’re covering the Reading girl’s case, right?”

“Yeah.” He glanced up to see Officer Swanson in his door. “Why?”

“Cause she’s been involved in an attempted robbery.”


Tags: Shyla Colt Vintage Vixen Erotic