To Trust a Cop. Sharon Hartley

at it?”

      “Made sense, don’t you think?”

      “Hell of a way to choose a career.”

      “It wasn’t my first choice.” After a pause she said, “Did you always want to be a cop?”

      “From the time I was about ten. My dad was a cop.”

      “Yeah, D.J. told me. That’s nice that you ended up doing what you always wanted,” she said. “Most people don’t get that in life.”

      “So what was your first choice for a career?”

      Damn, she’d left herself wide open for that question. “An impossible dream.”

      “Why impossible?”

      “Never mind.” She leaned her head against the seat back.

      “You can’t do that, Merlene. You have to tell me.”

      “You don’t want to know.”

      “Yeah, I do.”

      She sighed and wrapped a strand of hair around a finger.

      “Come on.”

      Wondering why she was dredging up ancient history, Merlene gazed toward the Johnson house. “I wanted to be a singer, specifically a country singer. I ran away to Branson, auditioned for every music hall in town, but all I ever did was wait tables. What a mistake.” She examined the ring on her right hand and wondered why she still wore it. To remind her how miserable her marriage was?

      “That’s how I met Dr. Peter Saunders.”

      “Ah. You’re a singer?”

      “That’s just it. I’m not.” She shook her head. “I can’t even carry a tune. When I was seventeen I thought I could, but believe me, what happens when I sing isn’t music.”

      “I like country tunes,” he said. “Sing something for me.”

      “No way, Detective.” She held up both hands. “I knew better than to tell you.”

      He grinned at her. “Coward.”

      You got that right. I’m a big fat chicken who might start clucking any minute.

      “Forget it.” As she reached for her notebook on the dash, her arm brushed against his shoulder, the same arm he’d touched this afternoon. Warmth again spread out from their contact. Did he feel that spark, too? She felt her belly muscles contract and thought about their almost kiss this afternoon. Being in a confined space with this man was definitely a bad idea.

      Taking a deep breath, she checked the time and entered her status into the log. She needed to refocus.

      “Did you find out why you’ve been yanked off Johnson’s case?” she asked.

      “There’s rumor,” Cody said, “but nothing concrete.”

      Or maybe you’re refusing to tell me, she thought, tossing the pad back to its place.

      “You should have stayed and watched the game,” he continued. “In the fifth inning my nephew hit a triple.”

      “Hey, that’s great,” she said, and meant it. “I’ll bet he was thrilled.”

      “He was. And I think you enjoyed yourself at the park today, too.”

      “Yeah, I got a kick out of watching the kids. It’d been a long time.”

      He nodded. “I thought so.”

      She caught his gaze and held it, again wondering why he’d really come tonight. “You’re observant. D.J. says that’s the mark of a good detective.”

      “Is that a compliment, Merlene?”

      She rested her head against the seat, watching him. “Maybe.”

      “Well, thank you, ma’am.”

      “Don’t let it go to your head.”

      “Too late,” he whispered. “It already has.” He cupped his hand around her neck and pulled her toward him, lowering his mouth to hers.

      CHAPTER FOUR

      MERLENE SURRENDERED TO the tide of pleasure sweeping through her, oblivious to anything but the power of Cody’s kiss. Magic, that’s what it was. Sweet, soul-stealing magic she was powerless to resist, had no wish to resist.

      He made a husky noise, a rumbling deep in his throat. Arms corded with muscle gathered her close. He was warm, strong, solid as an ancient oak. She arched toward him, needing to get closer, wanting to feel the safety of his strength crushed against her.

      Until an insistent, shrill beep echoed through the Toyota.

      She stiffened and pulled away. Cody eased her back against her seat but didn’t release her.

      “Ignore it,” he growled.

      She swallowed. “It’s D.J. He’ll be worried.” She cringed at the catch in her voice but grabbed her cell phone.

      “Oh, well...if it’s D.J.,” Cody muttered as he slumped against the passenger seat.

      A green light glowed in the dark car when Merlene flipped open her phone. What had just happened? Her heart galloped as she focused on the keypad. Fighting to control her trembling fingers, she punched in D.J.’s speed number. He answered immediately.

      “What’s going on, Merl?” D.J. barked. “Why didn’t you answer?”

      “Nothing is going on, D.J. I couldn’t get to my phone in time.” No need to tell him why.

      “You scared me a bit,” her boss said. “I got plumb worried.”

      “Sorry. But everything is fine. The doctor arrived home around nine and is probably tucked into bed for the night. I’ll go on home around midnight as usual, get some sleep and be back here before he leaves for work tomorrow.”

      “Sounds good,” D.J. said. “Talk to you tomorrow.”

      “You feeling okay?”

      “Fine.” D.J. hung up, and the tone of the off button sounded in the quiet car.

      “He likes to check on me,” Merlene said. Watching the light of the numbers dim, cold reality settled over her. What would have happened if D.J. hadn’t called her? She needed to get Cody out of her car.

      “You’d better go,” she said.

      Cody turned to her with a frown. “What’s wrong?”

      What’s wrong? What was right? Good Lord, how could she make out in a car like a hormone-impaired teenager? During an assignment, no less.

      “I’m working, and you shouldn’t be here,” she said. “Now who’s the one interfering?”

      His brows arched. “What?”

      “You heard me. You’re interfering with my investigation, distracting me from the job.”

      “Come on, Merlene. I’m keeping you company on a boring stakeout.”

      “What would your precious police department think about me crashing one of their stakeouts and seducing an officer on duty?”

      He opened his mouth to speak, then tightened his jaw without speaking. She looked away, recalling how easily she’d given in when he’d urged her lips apart. Furious with herself for succumbing to his potent attraction, she searched for the quickest way to make him leave. So what would piss him off? She could ask for money. That should work.

      “How much is the Miami-Dade P.D. willing to pay for help with your little problem?”

      “Pay?”

      She shrugged. “I don’t work for free.” Yeah, maybe this was a lame