Undercover Love (The Women of Manatee Bay, Book 2) Read online

  Not a good idea. The grime on her hand made her eyes water more. She sniffed. At least she’d have an excuse now if they had the gall to say something. Charlie huddled with Grant over the kit, poking through it. The sound of wrinkling plastic mingled with the harsh gasps of the air conditioner.

  No, wait. The gasps were coming from her. A sob caught in her throat. She clamped her lips closed, shifted and made the chair creak a little to cover.

  But she couldn’t ignore the truth barreling through her with all the strength of an elephant on steroids. Crushing her lungs beneath its terrible weight.

  “Someone shot at me.” Her fingers inched up to touch her neck. The panic must have been showing on her face because Grant turned, took one look at her, and knelt down in front of her.

  He took her hands, holding them tight. His eyes were gentle. He looked much nicer when he was worried.

  “It’s going to be okay,” he said in a low voice. He kept his gaze steady on her, massaging her hands so the warmth would come back. “We’re gonna clean you up and then find out who did this.”

  She nodded, too afraid to speak in case she started sobbing. Charlie handed Grant some antiseptic wipes. Grant’s eyebrows pulled together as he brought his hands to her neck. “This’ll hurt,” he said.

  Rachel closed her eyes and tilted her head so he could clean the wound. She felt the coldness of the wipes first. Then the burn. She sucked in a quick breath. It stung more than she’d expected.

  She kept her eyes squeezed tight as Grant spread gauze over her neck. Dry and rough at the edges, cool in the middle where antibiotic ointment lay against the pain.

  Someone patted her shoulder and she opened her eyes. Grant still knelt in front of her, his mouth drawn in a solemn line. “Looks like it’s just a graze, but you should see a doctor anyway.”

  Rachel shook her head. “I’ll be fine.” She reached up and gingerly touched the bandages.

  Charlie squatted next to Grant. He twirled his hat in large, rough hands. “You call 911?"

  "No, I should have." She hadn't thought of it. Not once.

  "We need a statement. Starting with where this happened.”

  “At the headsprings.”

  Grant eyed her clothes. “You weren’t there to swim, I take it?”

  “No.” Rachel grimaced. This would be the annoying part. She hadn’t intended on letting the whole world know about the mayor’s weakness quite yet. Not when she planned on exposing his devious self later on. But getting shot at changed things and she’d come here almost as if on autopilot. She should have thought things through before driving this way.

  Grant stood. Rachel looked away, a little disconcerted by the hand he held out to her. Grant being charming was nothing new. Grant being charming to her . . . Well, she guessed there was a first time for everything. She looked at his hand, tanned and callused. A strong man’s hand. She took it and let him help her up. His fingers, warm and firm, curled around her palm. Suddenly her vision blurred and she swayed. Grant steadied her until the dizziness passed.

  “Sorry, I just need to eat.” She pulled away and reached into her pocket for the flash drive. Glancing down, she confirmed that the drive was completely white, lacking the mark she’d put on the drive with the S file. She managed a shaky smile as she handed the device to Grant.

  The concern in his eyes unnerved her. It made her feel warm and fuzzy. It made her feel like doing something incredibly stupid.

  Something like falling in love again.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  “What’s this for?” Grant pinched the flash drive and held it up.

  “Motive.”

  Looking perplexed, Grant glanced at the stick before placing it in an already dated evidence bag. He scribbled information on it then set it on his desk.

  Hopefully, Mrs. Owens would understand the breach of confidentiality. Rachel sighed. At least she’d convinced Mrs. Owens to sign the standard agreement about privacy, which included a clause regarding illegal activities. Technically, adultery was still illegal, which meant she could disclose the mayor’s activities to the police station.

  Rachel met Charlie’s gaze. His bushy eyebrows formed a vee over his nose. She forced her smile to stop quivering. She straightened her shoulders and reached over to pat Charlie on his grizzled cheek. His chin prickled her palm. “Let’s get started, Uncle Charlie.”

  The vee between his eyebrows smoothed. “Well now, girl, haven’t heard you call me that in a long while.”

  “I don’t like generic titles.”

  “Generic nothing. I’m like family to you. My shift’s over, darlin’. Grant’ll take your statement. Grant, you want me to head out to the headsprings and take a look around before I go home?”

  “Just radio it in, if you would. I think the chief is out that way.”

  “Gotcha.”

  Rachel didn’t see Grant move from her side, but she felt the loss.

  “Generic titles,” Charlie muttered, planting his hat back on the mop of gray that passed for hair.

  “Gotta agree with her about titles being useless, Charlie.” Papers rustled as Grant messed around at a desk.

  “If you’d grown up with a normal family, you’d see terms of endearment are as natural as breathing.” Charlie gave a little laugh and pulled Rachel to him in a hug. “This girl’s just weird. Went to the city and got herself some fancy degree. Now she won’t call me Uncle no more.”

  She grimaced. Moisture seeped from Charlie’s shirt to her hands. She hugged him quickly then moved away from his cloying embrace. The degree didn’t have anything to do with what she called him. The fact was, Charlie wasn’t her uncle, just an old family friend. And she almost always referred to him as Charlie. Ever since her eighth birthday. But he hadn’t noticed until she’d come back from the University of Florida five years ago.

  She didn’t want to hurt his feelings by pointing it out. And in rare cases of vulnerability she sometimes slipped and called him Uncle. Didn’t want to point that out, either.

  So she smiled and swung her gaze to Grant. “Your family’s strange too?”

  The warmth in his eyes disappeared. It was as though a curtain fell across his features, shadowing his thoughts.

  “Foster care.” He turned away from her and pulled out a chair from one of the two desks in the tiny room. He placed it in front of the desk beside him.

  Rachel swallowed, feeling awkward and not knowing what to do about it. She’d assumed Charlie was over-exaggerating, maybe making fun of Grant’s family a bit. She should’ve given in to the urge to research Grant months ago instead of curbing her normal impulses due to some misplaced sense of honor.

  Stifling natural, God-given curiosity was always a bad idea.

  Charlie covered the silence with a gruff cough. “Grant’s got himself a cat for family.”

  Rachel felt her eyebrows shoot up. Somehow she couldn’t picture testosterone-filled Grant with a feline. “Really?”

  “Nope.” Grant shook his head. “The thing ran off the other night.”

  “Thing?” Rachel walked slowly to the chair, trying hard to not show how shaky she still felt. “I knew it sounded strange for you to have affection for something other than a female.”

  She saw Grant’s shoulders loosen, lowering in a relaxed way. He rounded the desk, sat opposite her and chuckled. “Helga’s the most annoying female I’ve ever met. Needs more attention than a woman, that’s for sure.”

  Rachel sucked back her own laugh. What an awful name. She sat down in the chair. The animosity between Grant and her made outings with Alec and Katrina stressful. His present kindness unsettled her. Made her feel sympathetic towards him.

  He owned a cat. Her fingernails tapped the arm of her chair. And the cat was missing. She frowned.

  His situation reminded her of how she’d felt years ago when Scooter died. The feeling gave her a kinship with Grant. The tenderness that invaded her chest earlier resurfaced and set off an internal alarm.

 
So what if he had a cat? It didn’t make him a nice person. It didn’t make him someone she could trust.

  “You ready to get my statement now?” she asked coolly, shifting so her body faced the door. Grant was trained to read body language. Maybe he’d read hers and get this statement done quickly. She wanted out.

  Charlie clomped to the door. “Well, I gotta get. Angel’s grilling ribeyes tonight. You oughta come over sometime, Rachel.”

  “Angel came back quick,” Grant remarked.

  Charlie sent them a wide, yellow-toothed grin. “I’m irresistible.”

  Swallowing her snort, Rachel smiled at him. “Tell Angel I said hello.” If the two-week girlfriend even remembered who she was.

  “That I will.” He looked at Grant. “Last night was quiet. Hope tonight is too.”

  Grant studied the paperwork on his desk. “Pete should be here any minute. I have another officer coming in at midnight. My shift ends at three am.” He glanced up. “Enjoy those steaks.”

  “Sure will.” Charlie let himself out.

  Rachel checked the clock beside the doorway. Five thirty. She sighed. Looked like dinner would have to wait.

  “Okay.” Grant’s chair squeaked as he swiveled to face the computer that rested diagonal to Rachel. Unfortunately, from where she sat, she couldn’t see the screen. “Let’s check out this flash drive and then I’ll get a statement from you.”

  “Can we do the statement first?”

  Grant faced her. His blond hair was getting long. It curled over his ears and diverted her attention for a moment, making him look innocent and not the danger her heart insisted he could be.

  “Why?” He tapped his pen on the desk.

  She didn’t want to be alone with him, but she couldn’t say that. Her stomach rumbled, lunch’s pizza calories long since burned away. “I’m hungry.”

  Grant’s mouth tightened, obviously not believing her answer. He leaned back in his chair. “Is there evidence of crimes on this drive? How’d you get it, Rachel?”

  He was using that tone again. The bossy, deep-with-authority one. “Adultery is the only evidence on there, but it’s criminal enough. I’ll give you my statement first.”

  “Fine.” He thumbed through the papers on the desk. “I’m willing to bet you’ve broken some laws to get this.”

  Her jaw clenched.

  Grant’s gaze met hers. “Am I right?”

  The accusation in his tone grated, especially after the other night. He’d let her go, ignored the way she’d poked him, despite his annoyance. Warned her to be more law-abiding. Now here she was, feeling vulnerable enough to confess to taking something from the mayor’s home.

  Drawing in a deep breath, she leaned forward. “Not really.” She heard his barely-concealed snort, but kept her temper in check. “I retrieved the files for Mrs. Owens as a favor.”

  “Thought she paid you to break in.”

  “To go into her own home? That’s not breaking in. Legally, the house still belongs to both of them.”

  Grant rolled his eyes.

  Rachel gritted her teeth and sucked in a deep, calming breath before exhaling in a loud rush. “She paid me to see if her husband cheated on her. The files were to help with the divorce case.” Rachel shrugged. “I knew alimony would be difficult with a man like him. That she’d probably need proof of his infidelity.”

  Grant’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”

  “He has money and he’s a philanderer. Men like him don’t let others call the shots.”

  “Interesting viewpoint. Don’t you think that comes off a bit judgmental?”

  Rachel noticed he looked sincerely curious. He brought his hands up behind his head and regarded her soberly. He’d just become a Christian. Maybe he really cared. She considered his question for a moment before answering.

  She thought of her father, of the way he’d flirt with every woman in a room despite his family’s presence. Then there was Scott. She'd never seen him flirt with anyone and yet...

  She rubbed her temples. “I think players have little respect for others or their feelings. Being judgmental doesn’t have anything to do with it.”

  Grant seemed to process her words for a moment. Then he nodded. “Guess it depends on where you’re sitting.”

  “I guess so,” she shot back, annoyed by his cavalier tone. But what did she expect? He was a womanizer. She couldn’t ever afford to forget it. No dating charmers. It was the one rule she followed diligently and she wouldn’t let his effect on her change that.

  Nope. These feelings had to go. If it meant dodging Grant every day for the rest of her life, she’d do it. The important thing was to focus on this case. To get home and check out the other flash drive, the encrypted one. The files were shady. She felt it in her gut.

  This was her city, people she’d grown up with, people she loved.

  She’d catch that rat of a mayor and no one would slow her down.

  Least of all Grant Harkness.

  ***

  “Birthdays are overrated.”

  Katrina’s laugh busted through the phone. “Stop being a grouch.”

  After leaving the police station, Rachel had called her friend but she didn’t tell her about the shooting. “It’s ridiculous that you and Alec are planning some kind of party for a thirty-year old. At least do it on a big birthday. Preferably my eightieth.” After parking outside her apartment, Rachel fumbled for the handle of her SUV’s door.

  “Don’t worry.” Katrina sounded amused. “We’ll plan parties often so you don’t feel neglected.”

  “Like I care,” Rachel muttered, slamming the door closed and striding up to her apartment.

  “You’re not throwing a fit because of what happened in second grade, are you?”

  “Charlie forgot where I was. He left me in a trunk!”

  “Rachel…”

  “Fine, yes, the experience left a bad taste in my mouth. Bad things happen at birthday parties.”

  “Well, you’re getting one this year and it’s going to be wonderful.” A stubborn note crept into Katrina’s voice.

  “Just stay in New York or Italy or wherever you’re playing this month.”

  “You don’t miss me at all?”

  “Of course I do.” She twisted the key and let herself in. After locking the door behind her, she beelined for the kitchen. “I’ve just been busy. Some major cases are sapping all my energy.” Like that stinkin’ mayor. Ever since Mrs. Owens had contacted her, she’d known something foul was happening. Add in Maggie's situation, and Rachel smelled trouble with a capital T. She didn’t have time to worry about birthday parties and other childish things.

  Flicking the kitchen light on, she studied her cupboards for some kind of food while Katrina launched into a description of her and Big Buck Alec’s travel schedule.

  Aha. One last package of Little Debbie Swiss Cake rolls. Pressing the phone between her shoulder and cheek, she snagged the junk food and started chowing down. It would have to do until she downloaded the files from her flash drive to her laptop. She’d come straight home from the police station for that reason alone.

  “You’re going to Greece?” Rachel stopped chewing long enough to gape as Katrina's conversation registered.

  “Do you want to come?” Katrina rushed on, breathless. “I’d really love to have someone with me while Alec is in meetings.”

  Aquamarine waters. Luscious scents. For a moment, Rachel allowed herself to daydream.

  “You can do all your snooping online, right? Come with us. Get a tan and take a break.”

  She snapped out of her daydream and swallowed the last bit of chocolate. “I don’t snoop, I sleuth. If I could do it all online, I’d be in the Keys right now. As it is, I’m behind.” Only with the mayor, and only because she was tiptoeing around bossy Grant Harkness. “Why doesn’t Alec take his buddy Grant?”

  With him off her hands, she’d have a lot more leeway. Uncle Charlie, bless his forgetful heart, didn’t have the same b
ias against her the rest of the department did. Just because she’d discovered the truth rather than letting an innocent kid go to jail.

  Cops.

  Brushing her hands over the sink, she frowned. “My life would be a lot easier without Grant around.”

  There was a small hesitation at the other end while the faucet ran. Rachel turned the water off and dried her hands on a towel.

  “I know Grant can be difficult—”

  “Not difficult. A pain.” Rachel put emphasis on the consonants so Katrina would get the point. “He’ll never forget that I showed the department up. Seriously, he’s getting in my way. Get Alec to do something about it. He’s rich enough.”

  “Grant cares about Manatee Bay. He’s just loyal.”

  “Then he should’ve been loyal to Barb’s son, who by law was innocent until proven guilty.” She tossed the Swiss cake roll wrapper in the trash and zipped over to her computer to jiggle the mouse.

  “Are you getting upset?”

  “Not yet, but I will if I have to keep dealing with Mr. Know-it-all.”

  Katrina laughed on the other end. “Grant’s a great guy. Give him a chance.”

  “Like he’s given me? No way.” Rachel shook her head even there was no one else in her silent apartment to see. “I’m too busy to deal with him anyway.”

  “What exactly are you up to?”

  Rachel dug through her pocket. “I’m gathering proof that our mayor is corrupt.”

  “Because of Maggie?”

  “Yes and no.” Where was that drive? She switched to the other pocket of her capris. “He treated Maggie like crap when they were together. But when I was doing some digging for his wife I found files—”

  “Isn’t that illegal?”

  “I can’t find my flash drive.” Rachel straightened, gaze hopping around the room. She shook her head. Why was she looking around the room like an idiot? “It’s gotta be in the car.”

  Katrina cleared her throat. “If you’re breaking into people’s computers then maybe Grant has a right to be concerned?”

  “Mrs. Owens gave me the password. I didn’t realize I was going to find a folder labeled B in the pictures.”