Pregnant Protector. Anne Duquette Marie

      “I’m in charge of your safety,” she said. “My partner and I are now your shield. If I have to use my training and my dog to make you follow my orders, I will. Sadie comes from my parents’ kennels. They train only the best dogs, and they gave me the best of the best. Would you like a demonstration of our ability to keep you in line?”

      She didn’t even move from her chair. “Sadie, Zur Wache!” Immediately the shepherd changed from adoring pet to dangerous guard dog. Nick realized Lara’s hostess act had nothing on her dedication to duty.

      “No need,” he said, annoyed yet respecting her stand. “I’ll take your word for it.”

      “Wise move. My mother was a K-9 handler. One of my older sisters works K-9 with the bomb squad. The other works K-9 Search-and-Rescue. Our dogs will do anything for us. If you deliberately work against me and anything happens to the public, to Sadie or to me as a result…” She left the words unfinished.

      “I won’t do anything to risk anyone else. You have my word.” There’s been enough death already to go around.

      “Then we understand each other.” With a single command, Sadie relaxed. Lara leaned forward on the desk, the hint of restrained power remaining in both woman and canine. “That being said, I am not in charge of your emotions, Detective. Nor am I your superior when it comes to law enforcement. As you are an officer of the law, I don’t think restricting your movements and hiding is needed at this time.”

      Nick’s head jerked up. “No safe house?”

      “No official safe house, but my house. Definitely safe,” she emphasized. “With the Valdez family in Mexico, we’ll need you to cover ground only they would know.”

      Nick found himself quite speechless for the second time that day. There was something in the way she held her head, a quiet dignity about her, that spoke volumes.

      “So I’ll be able to investigate Julio’s murder unhampered?” he managed to ask.

      “As long as you let me protect you. You’ll follow my orders for your safety. To do that, I remain at your side until this case is solved.” She brushed away a speck of dust from the desk and met his gaze straight on. “If your…activities interfere with that, then and only then will I feel the need to curtail your actions by any means necessary. That includes reporting to your superior and mine—that’s Captain Girard.” There was steel in the voice coming from that delicately boned face. “Until I get back to K-9.”

      “Got it,” he said, his voice grating like gravel. “Appreciate your understanding, Officer Nelson.”

      “Hey. He was your partner.” Her businesslike manner slipped more than a little as she smiled. “My car’s outside. Let’s roll. And please, call me Lara.”

      THE K-9 SQUAD CAR computer display and communication unit kept track of messages as Lara and Nick rode in silence. Sadie sat alertly in the back, Nick’s bag of clothes from the weekend on the floor beneath. Nick felt strange sitting next to her, instead of Julio, during the drive toward the pricey homes perched on the cliffs of the La Jolla shoreline. As the squad car approached her home, he took in everything with a trained observer’s eye: the white stucco front, the riot of flowers, the carefully manicured lawn. His gaze skipped over the expensive foreign cars to the frothing shoreline far below. As the Pacific sparkled and crashed green-blue in the sun, he thought of his own small apartment in an older blue-collar neighborhood of San Diego.

      Nick couldn’t help but be curious about Lara Nelson’s circumstances. Girard had said Lara worked in La Jolla; he didn’t say she lived there. Homes in La Jolla went for three million dollars and up. Only movie stars, hi-tech industrialists and old-money types lived on these cliffs. Space and the world-famous view were at a premium. Those looking for an opportunity to buy had to wait a long time for a property to go on the market.

      Nick breathed in the salt air as Lara parked the car on the pristine, oil-free driveway. He’d always appreciated beauty and begrudged no one his or her fair share. He wondered if Julio’s fatherless children would ever find their own place in the sun. Then, because a man in his kind of life accepted harsh realities, he shoved aside such thoughts and exited the car, stepping onto the fancy tiled sidewalk.

      As man, woman and dog entered the pink-tiled foyer, Nick slipped and stumbled slightly. Lara grabbed at his waist, alarmed.

      “You okay?”

      “Fine. Just slipped on the tile.”

      “Carrara marble. My dog and I slip on it, too.” Surprisingly, her arm remained firmly around his waist as she steered him to the couch in the large foyer.

      “Sit down. I’ll get you some coffee, if you’d like.”

      “I don’t want any damn coffee,” he said harshly. Then he backpedaled, realizing she didn’t deserve rudeness. “I’m sorry. No, thanks.”

      “Okay, but how about a beer? Or a scotch. You’re not on duty.”

      Nick thought for a moment. “Scotch sounds good.”

      “Ice?”

      “Neat.”

      “Sit down and put your feet up. I’ll be right back. Sadie, stay.”

      He felt the dog’s eyes on him as he studied the room. A concert grand stood as the room’s focal point, its lacquered finish gleaming despite the curtains being drawn over the huge bay windows. The floor was highly waxed parquet hardwood, while the obviously expensive leather couch and matching hassock were the only pieces of furniture evident. There was no television and no stereo. The only things in profusion were voluminous collections of sheet music on the shelves and a few scattered pieces on the piano.

      Lara returned with an iced tea for herself and the scotch for him. Her dog rose to its feet expectantly and trotted to her side. Lara shook her head, but remained standing. “Relax, Sadie. I’m not going anywhere,” she said with a smile of affection for the animal. Sadie lay down again and stretched.

      The smile transformed the woman’s face. She was breathtakingly lovely. So lovely that it took him a moment to realize she was still holding out his glass.

      “Thanks.” He tested the scotch with a small sip, then a bigger one.

      “Feeling better?” she asked.

      “Yeah,” he said. “Thanks.” The scotch, smooth as silk, burned a path to his midsection, replacing some of the icy coldness with heat.

      “There’s more if you want,” Lara offered. “Just say the word. You wanna get drunk, I don’t have a problem with it. God forbid if anything happened to my partner.” Her hand dropped to rest on the molded head of her four-legged companion.

      Getting drunk—something he hadn’t done since his college days—appealed, but only for a moment. If he were drunk, he couldn’t work. He’d take a quick shower, not for hygiene but to shock his body into alertness, and he’d exchange the constricting work clothes for jeans. He’d shove his grief down where it couldn’t hamper him, and then, only then, would he start to work on finding Julio’s killer.

      CHAPTER TWO

      Monday afternoon

      “DAMN!” Lara swore as she hit yet another wrong note on the piano keyboard, the third in the past five minutes. Julio’s body was now in the hands of the medical examiner, and she hadn’t yet told Nick. At present he was showering. She planned for them to visit the police station to check on new developments, but first she needed to eat. She’d missed her breakfast, and it was already past noon. Lara suspected Nick hadn’t eaten since hearing of his partner’s death. Okay, she decided, she’d tell him about the phone call from Girard after they’d eaten. There was no harm in stalling. No sense ruining his shower, as well.

      She’d sat down to practice at the piano while waiting, one of her passions but unfortunately not one of her skills. She pushed away from