One Good Man. Julie Miller

time, though, a gentler, safer temperature warmed her.

      Mitch relayed the message. “Judith says she’s got cookies hot from the oven waiting for us with a glass of milk.”

      “Oatmeal Scotchies?” asked Frankie.

      Casey’s own taste buds perked up at the prospect.

      “Yes.”

      “Cool! C’mon, let’s go.” Frankie snatched up her coat, bounded through the outside door and zoomed down the path to the main house.

      Casey and Mitch followed at a slower pace, shrugging into their coats and locking the pool-house door behind them.

      Mitch shortened his stride to match Casey’s measured steps. “You know, if you are in danger, it’d be nice if you people acted like it.”

      Casey turned up her wool collar and shrugged at his comment, not knowing where to begin explaining her ordeal with Emmett Raines and how she’d learned to cope with it over the years. She settled for the simple advice Jimmy had given her so long ago. “I find a lot of comfort in the predictability of my lifestyle.”

      He shook his head. “It makes you complacent. A variable routine makes it harder for anyone stalking you to catch you off guard.”

      She couldn’t stem the sarcasm that slipped into her voice. “I’m very much on guard, Captain. I think your presence here has taken care of that.”

      They had reached the garage, which opened into the kitchen and provided the rear entrance to the house. Casey grasped the knob, but Mitch stretched his arm across the doorway, blocking her path.

      “You don’t have to like me, princess. Or even respect what I do. But know this. I’m good at my job. And I’m going to do it with or without your help. ‘With’ just makes it easier. For both of us.”

      He snared her in the dark light of his eyes, and Casey read the clear warning etched there.

      She retreated a step to put some much needed distance between them. “What kind of help do you want from me? I won’t leave here. I know every tree and corner like the back of my hand, and the people even better.”

      “You could answer a few questions.”

      He shoved his hands into his pockets, making him appear less of a threat. But Casey’s guard went on full alert.

      “Like what?”

      “Tell me what makes Raines so different that you and the commissioner won’t handle his escape through standard procedure. You weren’t the only witness to testify at that trial. What makes him such a threat to you? I’d rather hear it from you instead of a police report.”

      She huddled inside her coat, shaking with the aftershocks of fear as her false bravado shrank inside her.

      “Try not to look like you’ve been damned, Ms. Maynard. I’m on your side. I’ll let you eat your oatmeal cookies first.”

      He opened the door for her and followed her inside. He even helped her with her coat. But Casey wasn’t fooled by his gallantry for an instant. The detective wanted answers from her that she’d never fully shared with anyone besides Jimmy.

      He might be nice to her now, she thought. He might charm the socks off Frankie, Ben and Judith as he joined them at the kitchen table. But Casey inhaled the sweet smells from the kitchen as though she were facing her last supper.

      Because once the McDonalds left for the Thanksgiving holiday, she’d be alone in the house with Mitch Taylor.

      And then—she tried to swallow a bite of delectable cookie past the lump of dread in her throat—let the inquisition begin.

      “YOU’RE SURE you won’t change your mind and come to the house for the weekend?” Ben McDonald loosened his bear-hug grip on Casey and stood back. Fatherly concern creased his well-worn features.

      Casey patted his arm and smiled. “I’m sure. You’ll be jam-packed with relatives and you won’t need me and my problems to put a damper on the celebration.”

      “Honey, we raised you as much as your folks did. You know you’d be welcome.”

      “I know.” Ben and Judith had been the ones who stayed with her at the hospital after the attack, when her parents had been whisked away for their own safety and couldn’t come.

      Casey hated being the cause of any more worry for them. Back then she’d been in too much pain, she’d been too lost and confused to argue when they said they’d stay on with her at the house, even though both had earned their early retirement. But now she was as healthy as she would ever be. She was a responsible adult. And she owed them much more than a generous salary.

      “I’ll be fine.” It might be a lie, but she said it with all the serenity she could muster to put their worries to rest.

      Ben nodded. He clearly didn’t believe her as much as he wanted to, but he accepted her decision. He zipped his coat shut and turned to Mitch, who waited at the doorway to the library while Casey and the McDonalds traded goodbyes. “I put that new door on like you requested, and switched the entry codes so that the key alone can’t get you in here.”

      “I appreciate it,” said Mitch.

      “Let me show you what I worked out with the front gate.”

      “I’ll walk you out and make sure everything’s locked up tight behind you.” Mitch might prefer giving orders, but as they exited down the hall, he listened to Ben’s instructions and chatted with the older man as though they were equal partners on the case.

      She was grateful for the way he used his authority and mutual respect to lessen Ben’s and Judith’s concerns. Not for the first time, she wondered why she didn’t rate the same kind of attention from him. Did he resent Jimmy’s orders so much? Was she the symbol of a task he considered beneath his rank? Or was the antagonism between the two of them something more personal?

      Judith’s hand on her shoulder stopped her musings. “You’re sure you don’t want me to come by tomorrow and fix you something to eat?”

      “I could swim Friday instead of Monday if you want some company.” Frankie’s eager offer caught her from the other side.

      Casey laughed and shook aside both propositions. “Have a happy Thanksgiving, both of you.”

      She hugged each one in turn. “You prepared enough food to feed a whole clan. I think I can manage. Now go home and enjoy your family.”

      “You’ll let us know if there’s anything we can do?” asked Judith.

      “Of course I will.” Casey guided them toward the door.

      Frankie gave another vote of confidence for her favorite detective. “Mitch is cool, you know. He’ll take care of you.”

      “I’m sure he will.” Casey’s response lacked the girl’s enthusiasm. She didn’t doubt that Mitch would do his job. She only wished doing his job didn’t bear such a high emotional price for her.

      Judith and Frankie left in another flurry of hugs and good wishes, leaving Casey to face the ominous silence of the house alone.

      She’d been alone before. Since her attack, she’d become quite good at being alone. Weekends, holidays. With her parents gone on a well-deserved trip abroad and Jimmy occupied with the prized social functions required by his political career, she’d had little choice but to learn how to handle so much time to herself.

      It was all a matter of outlook. She normally focused on the security and quiet of being on her own, the self-sufficiency it required of her.

      And if she could just stay busy enough, she’d never see what might be missing from her life of solitude.

      Broad-shouldered bodyguard aside, she expected this four-day holiday to be no different from all the others she’d learned to endure on her own. Now if she could just get Mitch to forgo