Практика Таро-консультирования. С нуля до профи. Анна Новикова

that, too. The M.O. wasn’t unique, just as bird tattoos weren’t unique.

      “I should’ve known. My friend, Courtney, would’ve known. Street smarts she’d call it.”

      “Is Courtney the one who stayed at the club past two and may not be home this morning?” He raised one eyebrow.

      “Yeah.” A smiled hovered on lips.

      “Doesn’t sound too street smart to me.”

      “Here are your clothes.” The nurse had a plastic bag hanging from her wrist and a black dress dangling from her fingers. “We did our best to dry them, but I think the dress is ruined.”

      “Oh, well. Small price to pay.” Elise took the dress from the nurse and shook it out.

      Sean pushed up from the plastic chair. “I’ll be in the waiting room.”

      It didn’t take long for Elise to get dressed. After he’d circled the waiting room twice and inspected and rejected the vending machine in the corner, Elise shuffled into the waiting room, hospital slippers on her feet and a snug black dress hugging her curves.

      She crossed her bare arms, and Sean strode across the room, shrugging out of his jacket. “Can’t the hospital loan you a blanket for the trip home?”

      “I think the nurse expected someone to pick me up and bring a change of clothes.”

      He draped his jacket around her shoulders. “Do you want me to call someone for you?”

      “It’s too early in the morning to call anyone.”

      “Family?”

      “None here.”

      “Boyfriend?”

      “Nonexistent.”

      At least he’d gotten that out of the way. He pulled the jacket tight under her chin. It was as if her assailant had known she was alone. Maybe this wasn’t a random attack.

      He pointed to her feet. “Can you walk in those things?”

      “If I don’t pick up my feet, they’re surprisingly comfortable. My shoes have been swept out to sea by now.”

      Sean had parked his unmarked car in the small driveway in front of the emergency room entrance. He guided Elise to the car with a hand on the small of her back. Comfortable or not, it looked as if she could trip over those slippers at any minute.

      He opened the front passenger door for her and she ducked in the car, tugging at her short dress. Had it shrunk after her dip in the bay? The black, sparkly material barely covered her assets—not that he minded.

      He cranked on the heater after cranking on the engine. “Are you warm enough?”

      “I’m fine.” She wiggled her toes and tapped on the window. “Maybe we’ll get some clear weather today.”

      “That fog saved you last night, or rather earlier this morning.”

      “It did.” She pinned her hands, completely covered by the sleeves of his jacket, between her bouncing knees.

      “Where to?” He rolled away from the curb, looking over his left shoulder.

      “Sunset District. I live in a house—the owner has the upstairs and I get the downstairs. It was divided into two apartments.”

      “Okay, just give me directions as we get closer.” He scratched his chin. He didn’t want to keep bringing up the attack, but that’s why he was here, wasn’t it?

      “We need you at the station sometime today to work with a sketch artist. Even if the guy was wearing a disguise, maybe we can get down the shape of his face or some other distinguishing characteristic.”

      “Like the tattoo.”

      The pulse in his throat jumped. “Yeah, like the tattoo.”

      “Do you mind if we stop on the way for a coffee or something hot? Just a takeout.”

      “Sorry.” He drummed the steering wheel with his thumbs. “I should’ve thought of that. You probably still need something warm to drink.”

      As he swung into a U-turn, Elise said, “Hot chocolate.”

      “Hot chocolate it is.”

      “With whipped cream.”

      “Of course.”

      She bit her lip. “I suppose I should learn to like coffee like a grown-up, but there’s something so comforting about hot chocolate.”

      “After the experience you had, you deserve comfort.” And protection. And whipped cream.

      “I don’t have to go in like this, do I?” She yanked at the hem of her dress, which had hitched up around her thighs.

      “I’m parking right out front. You can wait in the car.”

      “One of the perks of riding with a cop.”

      He parked the car illegally at the curb and hopped out. Even though the sun was rising on the busy street and people bustled in and out of the busy coffeehouse, Sean kept his focus on his car and Elise’s profile through the window.

      She must’ve been terrified coming to in that trunk. Despite her soft, feminine appearance, she had to be made of steel to have waded into the San Francisco Bay to avoid her captor.

      Holding a cup of hot chocolate in one hand and a coffee in the other, he nudged open the door and strode toward the car. Before he reached the door, Elise hopped out and took both cups from him.

      “Which is which?”

      “Yours is on the right.”

      She bent over into the car to secure his coffee in the cup holder. As she did so, her skimpy dress slid up dangerously high.

      She backed out of the car, one hand flattening the dress against her thighs. When she straightened up, she rolled her eyes. “This dress was a lot longer when I started out last night.”

      “I believe you.” He rubbed her arms as if to erase her goose bumps. “You shouldn’t be out here without my jacket, anyway.”

      “I couldn’t figure out how to roll down the window. Must be locked.” She licked her lips and gave a little shiver—more like a wiggle.

      It was the sexiest combination of moves ever aimed at him, and she didn’t even mean it—didn’t mean it as a come-on anyway.

      “Get back in the car and wrap your hands around that hot chocolate. I asked for extra whipped cream.”

      She scurried around to the other side of the car and huddled in his jacket again, one hand darting out to grab her cup.

      She slurped a sip through the lid and closed her eyes. “Perfect.”

      “Are you up for a few more questions?”

      Her slim fingers tightened around the cup, but she nodded. “Absolutely.”

      “Have you been having trouble with anyone? Gotten into any arguments? Coworkers? Neighbors?”

      She snorted. “You think someone put out a hit on me?”

      “Just covering all bases, Elise. What kind of work do you do?”

      “I’m a teacher, a kindergarten teacher.”

      Her students must love her sweet sincerity. You couldn’t fool kids that age.

      “No trouble at the school?”

      “Everyone’s great, no politics on the playground.”

      “What about your landlord?”

      “Oscar? He travels a lot. We get along great. I pay my rent on time and don’t have any wild parties. He’s my friend’s brother. That’s how I met her, Courtney.”