KCPD Protector. Julie Miller
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Elise Brown rattled like this—to see his right arm, his executive partner being hurt this way—felt personal. They were a team. And nobody messed with his teammates. He’d had his partners’ backs for years when he’d worn a uniform or cleaned drugs and thugs off the streets. Even though his gun was locked in his desk drawer, he was still a cop. He couldn’t allow this kind of thing to happen in his office, not on his watch. Not to Elise.
“I’ll take care of it,” he said, turning her back out of her office. The fact that she didn’t argue with him was as much of a red flag as the creepy reappearance of the bouquet. Something was seriously wrong here.
George led her to a couch in the reception area before marching down the hall to have Shane get a list of everyone who’d been on this floor in the past twelve hours, as well as any cleaning and maintenance staff or personnel who had master keys. He’d make sure every last one was accounted for. He’d make this right.
Or else he’d never be able to shake the memory of Elise trembling against the palm of his hand and murmuring to herself, “He brought them back.”
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