Shattered Haven. Carol J. Post
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ran out from between your house and the one next door.” As Hunter spoke, he gestured with his right hand, tracing the path the suspect had taken.
It was all wrong. The intruder came from the opposite side of the house and went in a different direction. The stranger was telling the truth. And for some unexplained reason, she was glad.
“Hunter, we’ve got the wrong guy.”
His brows lifted in question, and she continued.
“I saw the intruder, just as you got here. He ran out from behind my house and went that way.” She lifted a hand, her index finger extended.
Before Hunter could respond, a Doberman came bounding toward them and skidded to a stop at the open door of the car. The dog put both front paws in the man’s lap and slathered slobbery kisses up one cheek, initiating peals of laughter.
“Now you decide to show up. You almost got me arrested.” Still laughing, he maneuvered to his feet. Not easy with two large paws in his lap and his hands cuffed behind his back. “No more jerky treats for you. At least till tomorrow.”
Hunter stepped behind him and inserted a key into the handcuffs. “Sorry about that. We don’t get many break-ins here. In fact, we don’t get any break-ins. You were in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
The stranger shot him a forgiving smile over one shoulder as the cuffs clicked open. “No problem. You were only doing your job. But I have to admit, this was my first time on this side of the handcuffs.” He clipped a leash onto the dog’s collar before extending his hand. “Blake Townsend, Dallas PD.”
Hunter’s brows shot up again. “You’ve got to be kidding. I was arresting a cop?”
“Former cop, actually. Injured on the job.” He turned toward Allison. “And you, milady, deserve a big thank-you for getting me out of hot water. I at least owe you dinner.”
The smile he gave her reached his eyes, creating fine lines at their corners. His manner was joking, but something told her he was dead serious about dinner. And she was suddenly hit with a case of teenage shyness. She reached to smooth her hair, then dropped her hand. Why bother? The first impression was already made—barefoot and bedhead. Not that it mattered.
She returned his smile with one that she hoped projected confidence. “That won’t be necessary. Your words were thank-you enough.”
He nodded, then looked at Hunter. “If you’re done with me, I’ll get Bozo here back to the boat. Next time you see us, he’ll be on a leash.” He frowned down at the dog who eyed him eagerly, tail nub wagging. One ear stood at attention, straight and sharp. The other made an attempt. But the top two inches flopped forward. The imperfection lent a comic element to his would-be ferociousness. “I think he needs obedience training. He’s usually a good dog, but when he sees a cat, his brain shuts down and he morphs into seventy pounds of pure, dumb instinct.”
He turned and started down the sidewalk, favoring his right leg. Probably the injury he’d mentioned. There was stiffness in his gait, as if he was trying hard to hide what should have been a pronounced limp after spending the last half hour chasing his dog.
A cop. She had him pegged right. Maybe she was getting better at reading people. It was about time.
When she returned her gaze to Hunter, he was grinning at her. “Checking out the newest Cedar Key resident?”
“Not like you’re thinking.” Her cheeks warmed in spite of her flippant response. Hunter was a good friend. They had a lot in common, right down to their determination to avoid serious relationships with the opposite sex. She didn’t know his reasons, but she knew her own. Serious relationships required trust, something in short supply lately, at least on her end.
“Let’s check out your place.” Hunter’s words cut across her thoughts. “We’ve got a breaking and entering to investigate.”
She squared her shoulders and started up the front walk, uneasiness descending on her with every step. Meeting the injured cop had been a nice reprieve. Now she had to face what she would find inside—a broken window, the possibility of items missing from her house.
And the end of the sense of security she had always known there.
* * *
Blake picked up a fifty-pound dumbbell and took a seat. The only gym on Cedar Key, Cedar Cove Fitness was well maintained and had everything he needed. And it was within walking distance of his boat. Of course, everything in Cedar Key was within walking distance of his boat.
After finishing his last set, he took a long swig from his water bottle. Tomorrow’s workout would be legs, a thought that brought a vague sense of dread. Recent months had given new meaning to the phrase No Pain, No Gain. He ran his hand over the five-inch scar that traveled from his lower thigh down to the top of his shin. All through rehab, he had maintained his upper-body workouts, so that part of his physique hadn’t suffered. Unfortunately, he couldn’t say the same for his legs.
He slung his towel over his shoulder and moved toward the door. It was time for Brinks’s late-afternoon walk. The dog had been cooped up alone on the boat for the past two hours and was probably about stir crazy. But he wasn’t going out without a leash. Blake had learned his lesson. Good thing the lady had spoken up last night. Otherwise he might be cooling his heels in the Levy County Jail.
When he stepped onto the dock and approached his boat, a black-and-tan face appeared at one of the windows, and excited barking commenced. Maybe they could take a route that led past the lady’s house. He really wanted to check on her. After last night’s scare, she had looked so vulnerable, clad in her ankle-length robe, feet bare and hair mussed from sleeping. But what had really gotten to him was the fear that lingered in her eyes. It had made his protective instincts kick into overdrive.
He might catch her outside. If not, from what he had seen during his short time in Cedar Key, people were friendly. A knock on the door from a concerned resident likely wouldn’t seem inappropriate or creepy.
As he stepped onto his boat, his gaze drifted to the slips to his right, where a sleek white sailboat was moored. It was there when he arrived yesterday, but had disappeared by the time he returned from lunch. Now it was back, its captain still aboard. She stood in profile, holding a hose. A cone-shaped spray burst from its end, and she worked her way toward the bow with slow side-to-side motions. Once he got Brinks, maybe he would introduce himself.
When he stepped back off his boat, she had finished her spraying and was walking toward the cockpit, hose still in her hand. He moved closer, the raucous calls of seagulls accompanying his steps. Waves lapped against the pilings, and a gentle breeze rustled his clothes.
He waited to speak until she had stepped down onto the cockpit seat. “Good afternoon, sailor.”
She started and spun to face him, a sudden spray of water barely missing his feet. The fear in her eyes instantly turned to relief, and his own widened in surprise. Her blond hair was combed into a thick braid, and a Cedar Key boating hat cast her face in shadow, but he recognized her immediately. She was the same woman who had had the break-in.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you. I was coming over to introduce myself, but we’ve already met.” Sort of. He still didn’t know her name.
She laid the hose on the deck and wiped her hand on her shorts before extending it. “We’ve met but haven’t been formally introduced. Allison Winchester.”
“Blake Townsend.” Of course, she already knew that. “And this is Brinks.”
“Like the security company?”
“Yeah, except in his case it’s more tongue-in-cheek. He’ll lick you to death.”
She laughed and extended her arm, palm down. After a quick sniff, Brinks slid his nose under her hand and gave a couple of pushes, encouraging a pat on the head. She complied with some much-loved scratching behind the ears.
“Have they figured out who broke into your