Читать книгу Her Lawman Protector - Patricia Johns - Страница 11

CHAPTER TWO

LIV ARRIVED AT the store the next morning, half afraid she’d find another note, but the floor in front of the mail slot was bare. She sighed in relief, then took a moment to pull herself together. She wouldn’t be scared off by a coward who worked in anonymous notes. As the morning passed by, she put away the last of the books, but there were more deliveries expected. She ordered in some lunch—a slice of vegetarian pizza with a salad on the side and an order of potato wedges. She was hungry, but she was also nervous. And when she got nervous, she tended to eat. She’d always been this way, even as a kid. In her elementary school years, she’d been filled with social anxiety and was constantly peckish. She’d get on the school bus every morning with dread in her belly, and she’d have her lunch polished off before she even arrived at school.

Back then, she didn’t have a lot to be nervous about. It was just anxiety of the general variety. She’d had friends and several first cousins in the school, so she’d never been alone. A boy had started making fun of her once, and her three older cousins had beaten him up. For better or for worse, those were days when a bloody nose didn’t turn into family counseling, and Liv had gone through school both chubby and unharassed. Some called that a miracle, but Liv had a secret—she’d mastered the art of the compliment early. But as a grown woman with a marriage in her wake, Liv was tired of people-pleasing, and she’d started mastering the art of a well-timed comeback.

Liv popped the last of the wedges into her mouth just as someone rattled the front door. She looked up, still chewing, to see her aunt Marie peering through the window. Liv sighed and went to unlock the door.

“Why did you lock it?” Marie asked as Liv opened the door. “This isn’t Denver, my dear.”

Marie was a petite woman—barely over five feet tall and as trim as she’d been at twenty. She’d aged well, and at sixty, with her hair dyed a respectable brown, she could pass for five years younger.

“Hi, Auntie,” Liv said. “Come on in.”

Marie looked around, her gaze stopping at the greasy paper plate on the counter. “Liv, dear, you need to eat better.”

Would Marie give that same advice to her stick-thin daughter if she’d just consumed the same meal? Not likely. This was the kind of pressure she lived under, and since her divorce she’d decided to stop apologizing for eating.

“Do you know anyone who hates me?” Liv asked, changing the subject.

Marie blinked. “What?”

“Someone who hates me.” Liv slowed it down. “Or hates the idea of this bookstore...”

“No, of course not.” Marie eyed Liv speculatively. “What’s going on?”

“I got a threatening note. Three, actually. The police think it’s serious.”

“Threatening what, exactly?” Marie asked.

“Nothing specific. That if I don’t leave town, I’ll regret it. That sort of thing.”

Marie blew out a breath. “You haven’t been toying with another woman’s husband, have you?”

Liv burst out laughing. “I love how you always see me in the best light, Marie.”

“I’m just... It’s brainstorming, dear. What would upset someone around here? Home-wrecking, I suppose. That’s all I can think of.”

“I agree that home-wrecking is horrible, considering Evan’s cheating,” Liv replied drily, “but I’ve kept my own home-wrecking to a minimum.”

“Well, it’s a silly question to begin with!” Marie said with a shake of her head.

“Or it would be, if someone weren’t trying to scare me off,” Liv replied.

“But this is your hometown. If anyone belongs here, it’s you.”

Liv was forced to agree. She’d come home to lick her wounds postdivorce. A threatening note—it was weird.

“Is it possibly a joke?” her aunt said after a beat of silence.

“I thought so at first,” Liv admitted. “I’ve never been one to inspire this much drama, but the police think it’s something more.”

“The police may be wrong.”

“True. And if they aren’t?”

“You need a man around here,” Marie said. “And that isn’t me trying to meddle. Maybe put out some big shoes so that people think you have a boyfriend or something. A male presence might help.”

Useful. Except she did have an officer making his services available in that department. Maybe she should take Jack’s offer more seriously.

“Anyway,” Marie went on, “we’re having a family barbecue at our place and wanted to invite you. Unless, of course, you’re too full—” She looked toward the paper plates again, and Liv’s irritation simmered back up. She was tired of the constant nagging when it came to what she ate. Yes, she was plus-size, but how on earth did that make her lunch anybody else’s business? It had been like this since she was young and well-meaning extended family tried to be a “good influence” on her.

“There’s something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about, Auntie. I’ve been reading some articles on dementia,” Liv said, fixing her aunt with her most concerned look. “And there are brain exercises you can do to ward it off.”

Marie coughed, the color draining from her face. “I’m sixty.”

“I know.” Liv held the eye contact meaningfully. “Should I print off the articles for you?”

Marie turned for the door. “No, you should not.”

“Because if you change your mind, I’ve saved them all!” Liv called after her aunt, who hauled open the door. “There are some games that your children can play with you to help keep your mental faculties sharp, as well—there’s one with a brightly colored ball.”

“Hilarious, Liv. Point made.” Marie shot her a scathing look over her shoulder. “I hope you’re advising your mother of these mental exercises, too!”

“Only when she criticizes me for eating lunch,” Liv quipped.

“Fine. I’m sorry if I offended you, but I do care. Are you coming tonight or not?”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Liv said with a sweet smile. “See you.”

Marie stomped out of the store, and the newly installed bell tinkled cheerily at her exit. Liv smiled to herself, enjoying this brief victory. She was tired of explaining herself, her food choices, her divorce...all of it. But did she really want to attend this barbecue just to have her aunt mentally tally up her calories? She was tired of being the big girl who nibbled carrot sticks while everyone else gorged on ribs, only to make up the difference when she got home again, ashamed of herself on too many levels. No more faking it. She had to start trusting her own observations and stop worrying about everyone else’s. Easier said than done sometimes, but she had a feeling that, like most things, it was a matter of practice.

Liv stood motionless for a few beats as her aunt disappeared down the street, and Liv’s irritation slipped away, leaving her feeling mildly guilty. It was stupid—her aunt had been insulting her, and yet she felt bad for having given her a taste of her own medicine. But that’s how she’d always felt when she stood up for herself—guilty. That needed to stop, too. The door swung slowly shut but stopped a couple of inches short of closed.

Liv sighed and headed over to see what was blocking the door. It was a small package wrapped in brown paper, Mrs. Kornekewsky written in black marker across the front. It seemed to have tipped from the corner into the doorway as her aunt left.

Kornekewsky wasn’t her name anymore—she’d been quite happy to shed it. But someone was clinging to her marriage...

Liv bent and picked the parcel up. She held it for a moment, wondering whether she should call Jack now or open it herself. Curiosity won out. If someone was going to all this trouble to scare her away, she wanted a clue as to who it was.

She grabbed a pair of scissors and cut the tape, peeling back the paper to reveal a small teal-colored box. The lid came off easily, and she looked down at what seemed to be a collection of photos.

She tipped them onto the counter, careful not to touch them this time—they were a collection of grainy pictures that looked like they were taken on a cell phone, and they showed Liv in various places about town. The grocery store, the library, at a street corner... And nothing else. No note. No explanation. She eased the pictures back into the box, clamped the lid back down and swallowed against the bile rising in her throat.

Mrs. Kornekewsky. Her heart hammered, but under the panic was a certainty—this was connected to Evan. Somehow, maybe even in someone’s fevered mind, this was connected to her cheating ex. Was there no getting rid of him, or had their marriage entangled him in her life irrevocably?

Liv pulled open the drawer where she’d put Jack’s card and rummaged around until she came up with it. She fumbled as she dialed, and it rang three times before he picked up.

“Detective Jack Talbott.”

“Jack. It’s me... It’s Liv. I got a package. Not last night...sometime today. I didn’t see anyone, but when Marie left—” She swallowed, knowing she wasn’t making sense.

“Liv. Slow down. What’s happened?” Jack said.

“I received a package at some point after I came down at nine this morning,” she said, trying to compose herself. “It was addressed to Mrs. Kornekewsky, and it contains pictures of me.”

“Okay.” Jack’s tone turned curt. “Don’t touch it again. I’ll be right there.”

“Thank you.” She sucked in a breath, and she suddenly felt better. She wasn’t alone in this. And while Aunt Marie might think this was only a joke, Liv was now convinced otherwise. It would take a sick person to joke around like this.

“And lock the door until I get there,” Jack said. “See you soon.”

Liv ended the call. All of her earlier bravado had evaporated, and she stared at the box on the counter with a shudder. For the life of her, she couldn’t figure out who’d hate her this much or what it had to do with Evan. Jack seemed to think it might be Evan, but while he might be a cheater, he still had some respect for her as his ex-wife. Maybe Jack could figure this out faster than she could. Her aunt was right—she needed a male presence around here, and a pair of decoy shoes wasn’t going to cut it.

* * *

CHIEF SIMPSON EXCHANGED a look with Jack as he hung up his phone. A few officers in the bull pen were typing away on their paperwork; the coffeepot gurgled to one side. Jack tucked his phone into his pocket and rested a hand on his belt.

“It would appear that the pictures worked, sir,” Jack said. “Kudos to Buchannan for the drop-off.”

This was the most adventure this precinct had seen in decades, or would again, if Jack could guess. Buchannan had gone in plain clothes and, apparently, it had all gone off without a hitch. Now it was up to Jack.

The chief crossed his arms over his ample belly. “Your assignment is clear. You’re to tell her it’s imperative that you shadow her for her own safety. If she needs further confirmation, bring her by the station and I’ll sit her down. But if all goes according to plan, you should be able to begin your investigation.”

“Understood, sir. I’ll be in touch.”

“We’re staying in close contact with the team that is watching Kornekewsky, so if he tries to reach her, we’ll inform you ASAP.”

“Sounds good.”

“And, Talbott?” The chief’s voice grew firm.

“Sir?”

“Stay close to her, but you don’t have permission to cross any lines.”

“Lines, such as...” Jack was pretty sure he knew what the chief meant, but some things were safer to spell out in case they had different ideas of where that line started.

“No romantic entanglement. It’s easy to bend the rules when you’re undercover, and I don’t want that happening here. I want this clean. Don’t give their defense lawyers any gifts, you hear me?”

Jack was more professional than that, and this wasn’t his first undercover operation as a detective, even though it was his first for internal investigations. This was his chance to nab a spot tracking down the dirty cops—something he’d wanted since he was a kid in the projects, watching cops plant evidence.

This felt eerily similar—using planted scare tactics to nab a suspect. Back in the projects, he’d seen the cops who were supposed to protect a community tear it apart—his own cousin had done jail time for a possession conviction based on planted evidence. But that had been different. Berto had been an innocent kid, and the cops who were planting evidence were being paid off by the big drug dealers to divert suspicion away from them. They had to “catch” someone now and again so it looked like they were doing their job. Berto had never been the same again when he got out of prison. When he’d finally pulled himself together, he’d joined a gang, solidifying his life in crime. And Jack had vowed to make it right—get the cretins who’d done this to his cousin.

So while he might find the suspect attractive, he wasn’t foolish enough to get emotionally involved with her. This was a search for evidence and a chance to even the scales a little bit. He was firmly on the side of the boys in blue.

“Loud and clear, sir. Strictly professional.”

“Good luck.”

As Jack headed out of the precinct, he felt a combination of relief and adrenaline. This was a job, and adrenaline always kicked in when he was getting to work, but he was also relieved to be finally heading in there. This wasn’t personal, but the sooner they started, the sooner they could suss out the extent of this scam and lay charges. There were a lot of vulnerable people whose investments and livelihoods might rely on it.

It didn’t take Jack long to arrive at Hylton Books, and he hopped out of his cruiser and headed around to the front door. Liv must have been watching for him, because she met him at the door and opened it before he had a chance to knock.

“Hi,” she said, backing up to let him in. “It’s on the counter.”

She nodded in the direction of the small box, but she didn’t go closer.

“I talked to the chief before I came,” Jack said, heading for the box and taking the required look. He knew what he’d find—the chief had shown it to him that morning.

“What did the chief say?” she asked, her voice low.

“He said that you need protection round the clock until we sort this out. I’ve been assigned to you.” He put the box back down on the counter, keeping it within her line of sight. She was silent for a moment.

“Jack, why was it addressed to Mrs. Kornekewsky?” she asked. “Whatever this is, it has to do with Evan. I just don’t see how.”

“Maybe Evan was up to something,” Jack said.

“He’s a fellow cop, Jack! That’s where you go first thing?” She shook her head. “Evan is a cheating louse, but he’s still one of the good guys. As much as I hate to admit that.”

Yeah. Jack wasn’t so convinced. And “good guy” was a strong description for the husband who’d dumped her.

“It’s pretty clear that this has to do with Evan. You might not like that, but it’s true. And you used to be married to him, so—”

He wanted to solidify that fact in her mind right now—this had everything to do with her ex-husband. Maybe she’d be more forthcoming with information if they didn’t waste time dancing around that one.

“So someone is mad at Evan—” She shook her head. “Everyone in town knows about my divorce. It’s the juiciest news Eagle’s Rest has had for the last year. Why target me?”

“Is there anything you can think of that might connect him to this town?” he asked.

“Besides this building? I told you we bought it together. His name was on the deed until he signed it over to me.”

Now wasn’t the time to cross-examine her. He needed her trust, and right now she was spooked, but she wouldn’t be dumb enough to incriminate herself.

“Liv, we have time,” he said with a shake of his head. He pulled an evidence bag from his pocket and dropped the box into it. “I’ll stick with you for the next couple of weeks, so that we don’t have to worry about your safety, and we’ll figure this out.”

“What do you mean, stick with me?”

“What does it sound like?” He shot her a mildly annoyed look. “You want to face off with a stalker alone?”

“No!” She pulled her auburn hair out of her face. “But I told my aunt about the letters, and she’s convinced it must be a joke. I have to admit, I was, too, but she invited me to a family thing tonight. If I show up with a police escort—”

“That might be for the best,” he interjected.

“What?” She frowned. “The gossip? The drama?”

“That they assume it’s just a practical joke,” he replied. “We need to catch whoever is fixated on you, not just chase them off for a few weeks. You won’t be able to breathe easy until this is resolved for good.”

“That’s true,” she agreed. “And my family all panicking about it won’t help matters.”

“Bingo.” He smiled ruefully. “So what if we let them minimize this for a while? Let them brush it off, and we can focus on figuring it all out.”

“And how exactly do I explain a bodyguard?” she retorted. “No offense, but even in plain clothes, you don’t blend in.”

He raised one eyebrow. This was why the chief had warned him earlier—his ability to stay close enough to gather evidence relied on a balancing act of his own. “So don’t explain me.”

“They’ll assume that you’re my boyfriend if you come tagging along to family events and whatnot. Unless you’re only planning on being here at the store...or will you keep at a distance? What’s the plan here?”

Liv met his gaze easily, her expression full of questions. She wasn’t about to be passive in any of this, not that he’d expected her to. She was smart, and she wanted to know what she was dealing with, too.

“How about this,” Jack said. “Let them assume I’m a boyfriend. I’ll be a perfect gentleman, so no need to worry about anything. That way, I can stay close enough to make sure you stay safe and to keep an eye on the people closest to you.”

“You think my family is involved?” she asked incredulously.

“Frankly, Liv, I don’t know what to think. But I’m not taking any chances.”

Liv sighed. “So you’ll be with me 24/7? You do realize that I other have family events. My cousin Rick is getting married later this month, for example. Are you seriously wanting to tag along for all of that?”

“If I were some nut looking to hurt you, I’d wait until you were alone,” he replied quietly. “My goal is make sure that person never gets the chance.”

She looked away from him, and her cheeks pinkened. “And at night?”

“You have a couch, don’t you?” he asked.

“I do.”

“I know this isn’t comfortable,” he said. He didn’t offer any follow-up on that statement, because he didn’t really want to give her a way out. His investigation would be most effective if he had a view into her personal life.

“No, it isn’t,” she admitted. “But neither is being stalked, or whatever this is. So I suppose we’d better make the best of it.”

That’s what he’d wanted to hear, and he shot her a smile. “I’ll be as unobtrusive as possible. Your safety is my priority.” And that wasn’t a lie. If she was linked to the kind of people they thought, her safety was definitely a cause for concern. The police department needed her either on the stand as a witness or standing trial—and they needed her in one piece.

“There’s that barbecue tonight,” she said. “At my aunt’s place.”

He eyed her, waiting. There was a beat of silence between them.

“If you’re coming along, do we make up our story now?” she went on. “Because they’ll be asking a lot of questions.”

Jack was actually going to enjoy this part. The chief had warned him against getting emotionally involved with her, but undercover operations involved some acting the part. This was only for appearances, and other than that, he’d keep his professional distance. “All right. So when did we meet?”

“In Denver,” she said. “Let’s keep this as close to the truth as possible. Less to remember.”

Yeah. She knew how to lie effectively, it seemed. “Okay, I worked with Evan and got to know you that way. When did I ask you out?”

“Who says I didn’t ask you out?” she countered.

“Because I’m the kind of guy who doesn’t waste a lot of time,” he replied with a teasing smile. “But it’s up to you.”

Liv rolled her eyes, but a smile tickled the corners of her lips. “Fine. You asked me out. When?”

Jack thought for a moment. Keeping things as close to the truth as possible was the best course... “As soon as your separation was finalized,” Jack said. “Because I’m a decent guy.”

Heck, he’d been planning on asking her out then, anyway. It was only this investigation into her ex-husband that had put a crimp in his plan.

“Then we’ve been dating for a year?” she asked.

“Let’s call it eleven months,” he said. “It sounds more credible if it’s not quite a round number. And if they ask why you didn’t tell them about me, just say that you weren’t sure about me yet, and you’re still skittish postdivorce.”

“Which I am, so that’s believable. I suppose we could play the rest by ear.” She paused for a moment. “One more thing. You didn’t attend Evan’s second wedding.”

“Was I invited?” he asked.

“Yes, but you turned it down because you believed in monogamy and Evan’s cheating offended you on a very deep level.” Her tone was tight—this mattered to her.

“Okay...” He paused. “Liv, I didn’t condone his cheating.”

“Got it.” She shot him a bland look. “But if you’re going to be my fake boyfriend, I get to rewrite what I don’t like.”

“Fair enough. Anything else you’d like to rewrite?” He spread his hands. “It’s now or never.”

“I’ll keep you posted.”

Jack shot her a grin. “Do I get to rewrite anything?”

“Like what?” She looked like she might be dreading his answer, and he wondered what she was expecting him to say.

“If I’m going to be your fake boyfriend, I want you to pretend that you’re crazy about me,” he said. “I rock your world. I curl your toes. I’m the best thing to ever happen to you.”

Liv’s face cracked into a smile, and for a moment he was stunned by the transformation. He’d always known she was beautiful, but he’d never been smiled at quite like that. He swallowed.

“Fine,” she agreed. “But at the end of this, you’d better tell my family how heroic I was and all that, because otherwise I’m not going to live this down.”

“Deal.” Heroic. Or she’d be proven guilty, and he’d have no explaining to do at all.