Reunion Under Fire. Geri Krotow
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a knitters’ meeting?”
“Yes. My grandmother has built quite the community with her shop, and the women as well as some men take care of one another like family. One of the regulars was in the shop earlier, and she was very friendly to Kit when she came in. Actually, you know the woman—it’s Ginny Vanderbruck.” They’d gone to school with Ginny’s granddaughter. “It’s clear to me that Kit is well liked and that the other knitters feel protective of her.”
“Let’s say she comes in tonight. Are you going to ask her point-blank if she’s in danger?”
“Absolutely. It’s my job. The only reason I didn’t yesterday is because I didn’t want to frighten her into not coming back. I gave her my number.”
“That’s good, all of it. I’m impressed, Annie. You’ve done more for Kit Valensky than anyone local’s been able to do in a long while. I don’t need her statement to press charges against Valensky, but if we can get her to confirm he did it, all the better.”
“So you’re saying she’s asked for help before?”
Josh’s expression stilled, and she knew the minute he trusted her. He shook his head. “Not here, not in Silver Valley. There are reports from where they lived before, though, out of state, in a rural area. The neighbors called in the loud noises, shouting. She and her husband told the responding officers that it was a mistake, that she was fine. She refused to press charges. They lived in a smaller house in a subdivision, according to the records. We only have them because we’ve been watching Valensky. At that time there were repeated complaints from the neighbors of angry shouting, the sounds of fights. But each time, she showed up at the front door with Valensky and said she was fine, and the local officers let it go. Which as you know, means they didn’t do their damned job. If it’d been an SVPD officer, he or she would have handled it the right way. We would have separated the two and got statements. They would have been recorded on the officer’s police cams. Charges would have been pressed.” He sighed and ran his fingers through his chestnut hair. It was short cropped but just long enough to remind her of the looser curls he’d sported in high school. God, how many times had she tugged his hair when they’d made out ad infinitum in that beat-up station wagon?
“What are you thinking, Annie?”
“Uh, nothing. Sorry—I drifted.”
His eyes were warm, and the crinkles at their edges teased her. “I’ve been doing some of that myself since you walked in here.”
They stared at one another, and it was like being in a bright tunnel, only the two of them, the years melting away. Except her body was feeling very adult responses to his every glance, each sound of his voice.
“Why didn’t you ever come back, Annie? Really.” He wasn’t asking for her résumé.
“I got involved in school, and then graduate school, and then this job.” And she’d been too wrapped up in her own hurt, needing the time to work through and heal from the abusive relationship that had flayed her soul and broken her heart. “And, well, I had some personal reasons, too, I guess.” Shame rushed her. “I should have come when your parents died. I’m so sorry, Josh.”
“It was a long time ago.” He shrugged off her too-late amendment and looked at her. “I wondered. About your personal reasons for staying gone so long.”
“You never tried to find me.” She didn’t mean for it to sound so accusing. “I never blamed you—we agreed we were done after prom night.”
His mouth hitched on one side. “What a freaking disaster, right? Again, I’m sorry, Annie. I was a bumbling teen, and I blew the best relationship I’ve probably ever had.”
“We were kids.”
“That doesn’t mean our feelings weren’t adult. We were pretty precocious, wouldn’t you say?” Was that a twinkle in his eyes?
“Precocious. That’s not a word you hear in police work every day.” She couldn’t help but tease him.
“I’m not used to a police psychoanalyst coming in here every day, either.” His grin was pure magnificence.
“Psychologist, thank you very much.” She mirrored his grin, and felt a warm glow that she’d thought had been eradicated from her emotional repertoire years ago. Was it possible to heal so much later, in such a spectacular way?
“Roger.” Josh spoke the police word for “I hear you.” He twisted his desk chair as he angled his long, lean frame to face her, their chairs next to one another. His forearm brushed hers in the cramped space, and the tingle it sent through her was positively delicious. It was at once sexy and alarming, as this police department felt like her workspace at NYPD. She’d learned early in her career to not get involved with another officer on the job, but she wasn’t working as a cop right now, not really.
She inched her chair away the small bit his cubicle allowed and chose to ignore the sexy smile on his too-handsome face. He knew he turned her on, a worse crime than the fact that she was getting so hot and bothered in the middle of trying to help a victim.
“Josh, I can’t...”
He coughed, loudly, stopping her weak protest.
“The problem we have, Annie, is complex. You’ve reported what you think is a sign of abuse, yet the woman was in your store, perfectly healthy and normal in her behavior, correct?” His brow rose, and she knew what he was getting at.
“Except for how frightened she seemed, yes. And the bruises.”
“That’s your interpretation. I’m not saying I doubt you at all, but without Kit coming forward, we don’t have a lot. We’ve never had any complaints since they’ve lived here, but their house is also out of earshot of anyone but the bears.”
Annie swallowed and nodded. She knew everything he said was true. Still, she wished it could be taken care of more quickly, without the added risk of each hour Kit lived with that bastard.
“I knew you’d say that, and I do understand the legal issues. And there are problems with going to their home without her requesting help, and no reports of any noise or disturbance. Right now it’s my word, my observations only. But I also know you can go check things out, interview Valensky.”
The lines between his eyes deepened, and her fingers itched to smooth them. “We could. As I said, I’d prefer to do it with her corroboration, and when I know she’s not there. It’s admirable that you’re willing to help her, Annie. We’re far from at the end of the road for solutions. If she shows up at your knitting circle tonight, talk to her. Earn her trust. Get her to confide in you, to come in with you or at least agree to speak to me, and we’ll be able to move forward.”
“The odds of that...” She ran her fingers through her hair, her frustration familiar but no less dismal. Domestic abuse remained the toughest nut to crack.
He touched her forearm, a gesture of assurance that grounded her. “Normally, yes, the stats are against us in this type of case. But with you on her side, the odds of her opening up are high. That is, if you’re half as good a listener as the girl I knew.” His eyes blazed with the same heat that simmered in her belly and zinged straight to the intimate spot between her thighs, begging for release. If they weren’t in the Silver Valley Police Department, would he kiss her? She wasn’t sure.
Annie was absolutely certain, however, that she’d lean in and kiss him. Heck, who was she kidding? She’d straddle him in his chair and lay the hottest, sexiest, all-tongue kiss on him she had to give.
“Avery! Chief Todd’s called in a DUI on Silver Valley Pike.” The receptionist’s voice echoed through an intercom.
“Roger. I’m on it.” His gaze never left hers as he replied to the request and his mouth lifted in his signature half smile. “Until we meet again, Annie Fiero.”