CHAPTER FIVE

      AS A COP, LEVI COOPER SAW his fair share of odd things. Victor Iskin had all his pets sent to the taxidermist after they died. Sometimes, he’d invite Levi in to visit, and Levi would sit there, surrounded by motionless cats, dogs and a couple of hamsters. Methalia Lewis liked to show him how fat she was getting by hoisting up her shirt and grabbing her stomach in both hands. But Methalia was eighty-two years old and laughed merrily while doing it, then would inevitably offer him some pie. Joey Kilpatrick kept his gallstones, six in all, in a little glass bowl on the kitchen table, and liked to recount just how horrified the surgeon had been at the state of his infected gallbladder.

      But Faith Holland’s head and scantily clad torso hanging out of a window...black bra, too...that was a sight. He turned off the lights and sat there a moment as she wriggled in the fading evening glow.

      Guess he should get out of the car. Then again, that was a pretty great view.

      He wasn’t one to smile much, as he was often told by Emmaline, the administrative assistant he still regretted hiring. But this...yeah. He felt a smirk coming on. Getting out of the car, he walked over to the restaurant window, which was about ten feet off the ground. Good thing Faith wasn’t a little wisp of a thing; she might’ve broken something falling if she hadn’t been wedged in there.

      “Is there a problem here, ma’am?” he asked.

      “Nope. Just taking in the view,” Faith said, not looking at him.

      “Me, too.” Yep. He was smirking. “Nice night, isn’t it?”

      “It is. It’s beautiful.”

      He nodded. “What happened to your shirt?”

      One of her arms suddenly flew across her gorgeous rack as if she was just aware that he was getting quite a show. “I, um...I had a wardrobe malfunction.”

      “I see.” The arm blocking his view couldn’t stay there long; she needed it to brace herself or risk flopping. He waited. She glared. A second later, her arm went back again, treating him to the stellar view once more. Very nice, all that plump, creamy bodaciousness encased in a low-cut bra. Not that he particularly liked Faith Holland, but he did like breasts, and it had been a while since he’d seen such an exemplary pair. “So, what happened?”

      Her face grew red. “I flushed my sweater down the toilet.”

      “That happens to me all the time.” This earned another glare. “So you decided to climb out the window?”

      “Mmm-hmm.”

      “Where you are now stuck.”

      “Wow. Those analytical powers of yours are just stunning, Levi. No wonder you’re a cop.”

      That comment just bought her a few more seconds in the window. “Well, if there’s nothing you need, I’ll be on my way. You have a nice night, ma’am.”

      He started to get back in the car.

      “Levi! Don’t go! And don’t call me ma’am. I’m still a miss. Help me out here. Aren’t you a public servant?”

      “I am.” He raised his eyebrows and waited.

      “So? Give me a hand and stop being such a hemorrhoid.”

      “Should half-dressed people wedged in windows call an officer of the law names, do you think?”

      She huffed. “Officer Cooper, would you please help me?”

      “It’s Chief Cooper, and, yes.”

      He got back in the cruiser and pulled it up so the bumper almost touched the building, threw the car in Park and got out again. “I really have to wonder how climbing out the window seemed like the best decision,” he said, climbing on the hood of the cruiser. “Is Jeremy in there?”

      “Just help me,” she ground out.

      He’d take that as a yes.

      They were at eye level—well, in Faith’s case, eye and torso level. It looked as if she’d been shot through the wall. She was stuck, all right. Short of smearing her with butter (Don’t go there, he warned himself), there was no way he was going to be able to do this without touching her. Which was always tricky, if you were the chief of police. Sexual harassment and all that.

      “Okay,” he said. “I’ll just...is it all right, Faith, if I hold on to your arms and pull you out?”

      “Yes! Isn’t it obvious? Were you planning to use the Force instead?”

      He cocked an eyebrow. “I think you should be a little nicer, Holland,” he said, “given that I could call the fire department right now. Gerard Chartier lives for this sort of thing. And isn’t your nephew a volunteer?”

      “I will castrate you if you call the fire department. You’re bad enough. Just help me.”

      He took hold of her upper arms and immediately chastised himself. Her skin was freezing, as the night had gotten cool. “Count of three,” he said, bracing a foot against the building. “One...two...three.”

      He pulled, and out she came, half falling against him, all soft and white and plump in the gloom. He took a step back as soon as humanly possible, ending contact, and jumped off the hood of the cruiser, then looked back up at her.

      “What is that?” he asked, tilting his head. She was wearing some kind of weird, beige, shiny tank top or something that ended just below her bra.

      “It’s a slip. Stop looking and don’t you dare say another word.”

      He offered his hand as she climbed off the cruiser—imagine writing up that report. The half-naked woman then fell off my cruiser because I didn’t want to touch her. Her hand was cold, too. “Want my coat?” he asked, shrugging out of it.

      Faith ignored him, going to Colleen O’Rourke’s red MINI Cooper. She tried the door. It was locked; that was good, as there’d been a few car break-ins lately. She sighed heavily, then turned back to him. He held out his jacket. “Thank you,” she said, pulling it on without looking at him. “Can I use your phone, please?”

      “Sure.” He handed it over and watched as she dialed.

      At that moment, Colleen’s face appeared in the bathroom window. “What the hell are you doing out here, Faith?” she asked, starting to laugh. “Did you actually climb out the window? Hey, Levi.”

      “Colleen.”

      “I really needed you five minutes ago,” Faith said. “Can you please get my purse so we can get the hell out of here? Pretty please?”

      Colleen obeyed, and before too long, Faith handed him back his jacket and put on her own raincoat. They were gabbling away, laughing about the incident now. “See you soon, Chief,” Colleen said with a smile.

      He nodded. Faith waved but didn’t quite meet his eyes.

      Then they drove off, and though his shift was technically over, Levi walked over to the station. May as well finish some paperwork.

      His jacket smelled like Faith Holland’s perfume. Vanilla or something.

      Something you’d eat for dessert.