Kansas City Confessions. Julie Miller

his veins. “This is why I don’t tell you things. It wasn’t an attack. The dark always freaks me out a little bit, and my imagination made things seem worse than they were. Once I found Tyler with Padre, everything was fine.”

      “You don’t know what that guy was after.”

      “He wasn’t after me. Maybe I interrupted a break-in. Or some homeless guy snuck in to get out of the cold and he got scared by the blackout, too. He just wanted me out of his way so he could escape. Doug Price is going to give me grief tonight for not picking up the mess I left in the dressing room, but I wasn’t hurt. I was more worried about Tyler.”

      He didn’t care about whoever Doug Price was, but if he gave Katie grief about anything, he’d flatten him. “Did you report it?” She hadn’t. “Katie—” His frustration ebbed on a single breath as understanding dawned. “You called me.” Hell. He should have investigated inside the building instead of letting the dog distract him from his purpose. He should have gone straight to Katie’s apartment when he didn’t find her and Tyler at the theater, even if it was the middle of the night and he woke them out of a sound sleep. “I’m sorry. If I’d known what kind of danger you were in—”

      “It wouldn’t have done any good. By the time I found Tyler and went back to take a couple of pictures, anything suspicious I’d seen was gone.” Katie quickly extricated her hands from his and nudged him out of her way. “I wasn’t in any real danger. I was being a lousy mom last night. Guilt and reading that file about the missing teen and her baby made me imagine it was something more.” She picked up a stack of briefing folders and distributed them in front of each chair around the table. “Except for that message.”

      Oh, he had a bad feeling about this. “What message?”

      She tried to shrug off whatever had drained the color from her face. “Some prankster wrote something creepy in the snow behind the theater.”

      “And then he swept it away.”

      Katie spun to face him. “Yes. But how did you...? Right. You were there. And you don’t quit.”

      He propped his hands at his waist. “What did the message say? Something about breaking in to the theater?”

      She hugged the last folder to her chest. “I don’t know if it was even intended for me.”

      “What did it say?” he repeated, as patiently as he’d talked to Padre.

      “‘Stop or someone will get hurt.’”

      He dug his fingers into the pockets of his jeans, the only outward sign of the protective anger surging through him. “Stop what? Who’ll get hurt?”

      Her shoulders lifted with silent confusion. She didn’t have those answers. “Maybe he thought I was chasing him. I wasn’t. The darkness freaked me out and kept me from thinking straight, and all I wanted to do was find Tyler to make sure he was safe. If I hadn’t panicked, I’d have handled things better, and I wouldn’t have ruined your evening.”

      Trent plucked the folder from her grasp and set it on the table. “You lost track of your son. That’s supposed to frighten a parent. Don’t beat yourself up about it. You said he’s okay, right?”

      She nodded. “We’re both fine. Thanks for worrying.”

      “Thank you for sharing. Now maybe I won’t worry so much.”

      She moved back to her computer and manipulated the pictures again. “I’ll believe that when I see it.”

      They did know each other well. “Honey, you know I’m always going to worry—”

      “You shouldn’t call me honey.” Katie glanced toward the window to the main room. “The rest of the team is here. I need to finish setting up.”

       Chapter Four

      If that woman worked any harder at pushing him away, she might as well slam Trent up against the wall. “At least promise me you’ll keep a closer eye on the people around you. If somebody was lying in wait for you—”

      “I promise. Okay? Just let it go.” Katie stepped around him as Max, Olivia and Jim came in, their animated conversation masking the awkward silence in the room.

      “You’re killing me here, Liv,” Trent’s partner, Max, groused. “A Valentine’s Day wedding? You’re already making me shave and rent a tux.”

      Olivia breezed past the burly blond detective, the oldest member of their team, taking her seat at the table. “Just because you and Rosie eloped to Vegas doesn’t mean the rest of us don’t want to share that special day with friends and family.”

      Max jabbed his finger on the tabletop, defending his choice in wedding arrangements. “Hey. I wanted to make an honest woman out of Rosie. And you know how her last engagement turned out. She wasn’t interested in dragging out the process any more than I was.”

      Max’s new wife had barely survived the nightmare of her first engagement to an abusive boyfriend and had become a recluse as a result. Meanwhile, Max had been fighting his own demons when the two had first met and clashed during the investigation into her ex-fiancé’s unsolved murder. Mixing like oil and water, it was a wonder the prim and proper spinster and the rugged former soldier had ever gotten together at all. But Trent had never met two misfits who were a better match for each other. Max brought Rosie out of her shell, and she’d uncovered a few civilized human qualities that Trent’s rough-around-the-edges partner had lost in the years he’d been dealing with post-traumatic stress. Max had been shot twice and Rosie nearly drowned solving that case. But the close calls had made them willing to risk everything and seize the love they’d found.