Bachelor In Blue Jeans. Lauren Nichols

it, shoved and pushed again—reared back and put her shoulder into it, banging until her arm ached. She dropped to the bottom step and thrust both feet against the door, again and again, harder, faster, harder.

      Kristin screamed as the vibration sent a shower of curtain rods clattering down on her head.

      They were a godsend.

      Quickly, she maneuvered one of the flat metal rods under the door and rammed it hard against a chair leg. The chair flew out from under the knob and fell to the floor. Kristin burst into the hallway, fumbled shakily for the light switch, then raced downstairs and out of the house to use her car phone.

      Patrolman Larry McIntyre was on the scene in less than five minutes, sirens wailing and lights flashing. After taking Kristin’s statement and asking if she needed medical attention, he disappeared inside Anna Mae’s little colonial home. Kristin was still sitting in her van when more headlights pierced the darkness and Chad brought his truck to a skidding stop behind the prowl car. He was in “civvies”—a gray sweatshirt bearing a police academy emblem, jeans and sneakers.

      “What happened?” he asked tensely as he hurried to her open window. Lights strobed over his face. “Are you all right? I heard the call as I was getting out of the shower.”

      “I’m okay,” she said with more confidence than she felt. “I’ll probably have a few bruises from my graceful tumble down the steps, but I’m fine.” Although, now that the crazy adrenaline rush had ceased, she was aware that her shoulder ached, and her right cheekbone felt tender.

      “Thank God. Did you get a look at the guy?”

      “No. To be honest, I can’t even say for sure that it was a man. Everything happened too fast.” She paused. “Larry thinks someone read the obituaries and decided to help himself while the house was still empty. He said he wouldn’t be surprised if whoever broke in was looking for valuables to sell for drug money.”

      A deep scowl marred Chad’s features. “We can’t know that for sure, but it’s possible. We’re close enough to a major city to have our share of problems.”

      Kristin understood his anger. Everyone had their own causes. For Chad, it was drugs. From the day he’d apprehended a bucket-toting drug dealer collecting money for Anti-Drug Education outside a supermarket, that had been Chad’s focus. Now he was tireless in his fight, speaking annually to school kids about the dangers of drug use. He believed that if he could reach them before the dealers did, they had a better chance of staying clean. He was still angry that a recent sting by state and tri-county police departments had failed because someone warned the dealers they were coming. Someone with inside information.

      Chad sighed and looked toward the house. “Will you be okay while I see if Larry’s come up with anything?”

      “I’ll be fine. Do your job.”

      “You’re sure?” he said backing away.

      “I’m sure. Go.”

      Kristin stared after him, wishing she could feel more than friendship for him. He truly did care about the town he protected and served. No one she knew would dispute that. At the same time, occasionally he did things that made her feel less kindly disposed to him. He was her friend. But he never passed up an opportunity to be photographed for the papers. Being a prime player in a major drug bust would’ve been a huge feather in his cap.

      Minutes later, the lights went out in Anna Mae’s home except for a lamp in the front window, and the two men came back out. With a wave, Larry climbed inside the prowl car, turned off the strobing lights and left. She’d given Larry the keys to Anna Mae’s house when he arrived. Now Chad handed them back to her.

      “I phoned the Arnetts,” he said. “It’s obvious from the splintering along the door frame that someone gained entry through the kitchen—probably after 5:00 p.m. and before eight o’clock when the Arnetts met you here. Mrs. Arnett’s coming by tomorrow to see if anything’s missing.”

      Chad paused, staring at the keys she held. “Why don’t you let me return those for you? You should go home and rest.”

      “Thanks, but I can do it.”

      “I’d rather you didn’t.”

      She smiled. “Don’t hover.”

      A ragged sigh escaped him. “Okay, then I’ll help Larry knock on some doors—see if the neighbors saw anyone hanging around here tonight. To be honest, I suspect he’s long gone, but…that’s the job.” Chad’s gaze softened, and he reached inside to touch her hair.

      It made her a little sad. “Chad…”

      “Yeah, I know,” he murmured. “But if you ever change your mind, I could give you a good life.” He smiled. “And we’d have great-looking kids.”

      “Thanks for coming by,” was all she could say. Then he stepped away from the car and Kristin backed out of the driveway, wondering if the day would ever end.

      The Wisdom Inn was a one-story, U-shaped series of units that opened directly onto a courtyard. It didn’t have a presidential suite, but it was clean, well kept and, according to the neon sign near the road, offered a continental breakfast. But, Kristin thought as she walked in the cool darkness up to unit 103, she’d never stay here, particularly after tonight. Spotty, outdoor lighting and a door chain wasn’t her idea of security.

      She cringed as harsh words came through 103’s wooden door.

      “Ellysa knew something terrible would happen tonight!” Mildred shouted. “She says the person who broke in is someone I know.”

      “Oh yes, Mother,” Will bellowed dramatically. “The great and powerful Ellysa Spectral knows all.”

      “She knows plenty. Where did you go while I napped tonight?”

      Feeling herself pale, Kristin knocked loudly while Mildred continued to rail at her son. It couldn’t have been Will Arnett who’d knocked her down those stairs tonight, could it? How could he have entered the house and made his way to the attic without her knowledge? More to the point, why would he take a chance like that?

      Will yanked open the door and greeted her wearily. “Hello, Ms. Chase.”

      “Hello. I’m just dropping off the—”

      “Yes, I know, the keys. I’m so sorry for the trouble you ran into tonight. Is there anything we can do? Offer you some tea—a glass of wine, perhaps?”

      Not in this lifetime. The last thing she needed was a drink at ringside. “That’s very kind of you, but I need to get home. Chief Hollister said that you and your mother were coming by to check the house in the morning. Would you mind if I met you there again? I’d still like to look through the attic.”

      Mildred pushed forward, elbowing her son out of the way. “How about ten o’clock? I like to sleep in.”

      Kristin felt a faint smile form on her lips. There was no “How are you dear?” from the strange little woman, no apologies for the scare she’d experienced tonight. “Ten o’clock will be fine,” Kristin said, backing away. “I’ll see you at the house.”

      “Take care,” Will said tiredly.

      “You, too,” she replied, meaning it. He probably needed all the care he could beg, borrow or steal to deal with his mother.

      She couldn’t imagine living in such an explosive household. She’d grown up in a warm, loving home with warm, loving parents who treated each other and their children with respect. Nothing like the behavior she’d seen from the Arnetts. Even in the last days of her life, Lillian Chase had never stopped smiling and encouraging her daughters. And Kristin had never stopped missing the father she’d lost in a car accident five years earlier.

      “Kris?” A deep, familiar male voice called her name over the sound of dispensing ice. From Zach’s tone, he was as surprised by their meeting as she was.

      Kristin