All A Man Can Ask. Virginia Kantra
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missing?”
“I—” She did a quick survey of her dressertop, jerked open the drawer that held her jewelry. She stared at the tangle of silver chains and colored stones and dangly earrings, all of it pretty and none of it very valuable. “I don’t think so.”
“Too bad.”
“Excuse me?”
“I’d feel better if you got ripped off.”
She stiffened with outrage and embarrassment. “I’m sorry if you feel I wasted your time.”
His mouth compressed. “You didn’t waste my time, cream puff. You definitely had an intruder. I looked at your frame. The door was forced. But if you didn’t get robbed, we have to assume whoever broke in was looking for something.”
“Like what?”
He shrugged. “Like me. Maybe somebody was checking for ID.”
She did not want to be involved. “Why would someone do that?”
“Could be somebody around here isn’t comfortable with strangers. Could be they made me as a cop.”
“That would explain why you were on my deck with your gun drawn shouting, ‘Police,’” she said dryly.
Chagrin drew his brows together. “Yeah, well, let’s hope they missed that. Your bad guys were probably off the premises by then.”
“I still don’t understand why they would search my cottage if they were looking for you.”
“They might have hoped to find my star or my gun. But I’m carrying those. Or they could’ve been after some sign that I’m really living here with you.”
“But you’re not,” she protested.
His eyes met hers, dark and direct. “Then we’ve got a problem, don’t we?”
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