Reese had wondered about that, but with so many other things on his mind...

Well. Given that Logan and Dash were close, and Dash had been there with Logan when he’d gotten shot, had stayed with him at the hospital, too, it didn’t seem feasible for him to just forget.

Dash and the lieutenant, huh? No, Reese couldn’t bend his brain around anything that bizarre. He’d known them both a long time, Peterson as his superior, Dash as an extension of his close friendship with Logan.

Dash successfully played the field, with play being the operative word. He dedicated himself fully to his job and his family. But when it came to women, he gravitated toward beautiful, stacked...fluff.

Peterson was not fluff. Far from it. From what Reese could see through her “all-business” attire, she wasn’t stacked either.

As to being beautiful...Reese supposed if he could look at her in an unbiased way—which challenged his imagination a lot—he could see a certain appeal. Maybe if a guy ever got her blue eyes softened with lust, or mussed her always tidy, short brown hair... No.

He shook his head, denying the possibility.

Petite, toned and bristling with intent. That was Lieutenant Margaret Peterson. Dash, who was far less serious than Logan, worked hard at his construction company and even harder at having fun.

He did not work hard for women.

Surely Alice had to be mistaken. Yet...she was awfully astute.

Did Logan realize? Of course not. If he did, he’d be on Dash’s ass already. Reese groaned. “I hope you’re wrong, honey.”

She tipped her head. “Why?”

“Because no way in hell will the lieutenant appreciate Dash’s interest. It’s more likely than not that she’ll only get more difficult, and I’ll still have to work with her. That’s why.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Alice said. She took his hand as they headed out to the parking lot. “I think Lieutenant Peterson just might surprise you.”

For Reese, that idea was even more repugnant. He knew how to deal with this Peterson. The last thing he wanted was a new dimension to that ball-busting personality.

Pushing away impossible thoughts of Peterson in a sexual relationship, Reese slipped his arm around Alice. “You and Pepper seemed to find plenty to talk about.”

Alice ducked her face. “She’s very nice.”

“To you.” Reese opened the car door for her, then went around to the driver’s side.

“She likes you, too,” Alice said.

“Too?”

Smiling, Alice said, “You both bluster, but the mutual fondness is easy to see.”

For Alice, it might be easy. “You think so, do you?”

She took his teasing comment to heart. “In some ways, you’re very easy to read.”

Reese wasn’t sure he wanted Alice “reading” him. He wasn’t used to it. But he supposed if he wanted to keep her around, and he definitely did, he should accustom himself.

He started the car and got on the road. After a minute, he cupped his hand over her knee. “Do you know what I’m thinking about now?”

“Yes.” She covered his hand with her own. “You’re concerned about the people involved in tattooing and drugs, and you’re worried about me, even though I keep telling you not to be, and you’re thinking about how much juggling you’re going to have to do.”

Damn. She’d nailed it. “Actually, I assume I won’t have to juggle.” He gave her knee a gentle squeeze. “Because you’re not going to keep any more secrets.”

“No, I won’t.”

“Good.” He’d never get a better opening than this. Even though it was forbidden—maybe especially because it was forbidden—he needed to know how she contacted Trace. He put both hands back on the wheel. “So, how about you tell me how I can reach your buddy?”

CHAPTER TWENTY

ALICE BARELY HELD back her groan. Like a dog with a bone, Reese didn’t want to let it go. “It would be...better if you didn’t bother him.”

Displeasure caused a muscle to tic in his jaw. “Better for you?”

“Better for everyone.” Now that he’d removed his touch, she felt bereft. Physical contact with Reese always made her feel more settled. Putting a hand on his forearm, Alice gave him the truths he wanted. “If it’s that important, I’ll tell you. I swear. But it’d be nice if you trusted me even half as much as you want me to trust you.”

“Shit.”

She smiled. “I know. You don’t like it when I turn things back on you. But it’s the same principle, Reese.”

“Not even close. He’s a loose end—an unknown variable.”

Alice shook her head. “He’s not a threat. Not to you and not to me.”

“Maybe. But that’s something I’d like to conclude on my own.”

After a lot of needless prying. “Why?” She didn’t want to change Reese, so she had better learn to understand him. “Because you’re a detective?”

“There’s that, and the fact that I want to protect you.”

“I’m not in any danger.” Nothing immediate, anyway.

“Jesus, Alice. You don’t know that.” Frustration carved a scowl in his features, delineated every muscle in his arms and shoulders. “A woman is dead. Another woman is on the run. And you—” he scalded her with a burning glance “—put yourself into the thick of it.”




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