Page 3 of Locked Box

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Julia wiped a hand across her sweaty forehead. “Oh my God, please let me out.”

“Don’t worry, Henri, I’ve got this.”

So the cop thought the actual property administrator was the one entombed in Brenthill’s evidence room? That was awkward. Then again, who cared? He could think she was Humphrey B Bear if it got him to let her out. There was an agonizing rattle of keys, a muttered curse, and then the door clicked open. Julia didn’t think she’d ever heard a sexier sound. She and the cop turned the handle at once, jamming the door once more. Julia laughed and let go, allowing him to open it. “Thank you, thank you, thank you. I’m going to nominate you for Cop of The Ye—”

Julia’s mouth went dry. It was him. Of course it was him. She was locked in a room, making a total dick of herself. Why wouldn’t it be him? Senior Constable Max Connor’s gaze moved over her. His eyes were as dark as Julia remembered, so black you could barely make out the pupil.

“Julia? What are you doing in here?”

“I-I…” She stared blankly up at Max wondering if she’d remembered to wear mascara today.

“Julia, what happened here?”

Max’s expression was a mixture of amusement and disdain. Julia felt her cheeks heat up. If she’d been given the choice, she’d have gladly starved to death in the property office to avoid this situation.

“I was, uh…I was helping Henrietta file computer stuff and someone kicked away my encyclopedia, which was holding the door open because I don’t have a key. Although it’s not my encyclopedia, I found it in here, which is weird because that means someone committed a crime using an encyclopedia. Which is weird.”

Max’s brows were drawn together as though he couldn’tquitefigure out how someone could be so ridiculous. “You shouldn’t be in here unsupervised.”

He braced his hands on his hips, the meeting point between broad chest and muscled thighs, and the silver wedding band on his finger glinted at Julia accusingly.

“I know I shouldn’t but Henrietta had to go. Her daughter was stung by some kind of…” Julia stared into Max’s face and completely lost her train of thought.

“Some kind of?” Max prompted.

“A bee? Yeah, it was a bee. Sorry, I’m all over the place. I thought I was going to die in here.”

Max frowned. “Okay, well…do you want to leave? Or should I hold the door open and wait for you to finish whatever you were doing?”

His expression said he’d rather saw off his arm.

“Nope, I’m done. Let me grab my phone.”

Without feeling her feet touch the ground, Julia walked to where her phone lay in pieces, the shards glinting at her like tiny black knives. She squatted down, collecting bits of metal and plastic as fast as she could, hotly aware of his gaze.

“Ah…how have you been?” Max’s tone was something you reserved for an elderly aunt.Good morning, Aunt Peggy. How are your begonias?

“I’m good thanks. You?”

“I’m fine.”

Silence stretched, long and horrible between them.

Julia let her long brown hair fall in front of her face, hoping it concealed the red that betrayed her every emotion. “What-what are you up to tonight?”

His eyebrows contracted, expression implying it was none of her business. “I’m meeting Bonnie in the city. We’re…going to the football.”

A hateful squirm of jealousy surged through Julia’s stomach. Of course Bonnie and Max were going to the football. Bonnie probably called all the players by their surnames and said things like “they’re flooding the backline!” She, on the other hand, didn’t know the first thing about football, beyond it was boring and emboldened Ash’s boyfriends to drink heavily and abuse the TV.

“Sounds fun.”

Max grunted noncommittally and Julia wanted to declare she was going to a party, an amazing party with boys and alcohol and possibly drugs, but she made herself shut up. Max hadn’t asked what she was doing because he clearly didn’t care.

Julia sneaked a glance at him through her hair. She couldn’t tell if he was pissed—the fierce slashes of his eyebrows made Max appear perpetually stern. He had the perfect face for law enforcement; she felt guilty just looking at him. Although that was probably because he was married and she had a big, fat, stupid crush on him.

Actually, her crush was more like a tiny jagged blade, sharper than the splinters of her phone, buried in her brain so deep she couldn’t pull it out. God knew Max had given her nothing, not so much a single hello in almost two years, and yet, and yet,and yet, her crush stuttered on like a corrupted MP3 file, in turns making her feel electric and helpless and nauseous and depressed. Love might be a gamble but Max Connor was a complete dead end.

Julia finished plucking up what had so recently been a working phone and stood. “Okay, I’m ready to leave.”


Tags: Eve Dangerfield Romance