shaking, inside and out.
Instinct told him to pat her on the shoulder the way he might have a fellow male officer. Good sense told him to keep his hands to himself and remember that his partner was not one of the guys—even if that was how she claimed to see herself. Good sense won.
FOUR
To Keira’s chagrin, her brother Douglas and two other patrol cars arrived quickly, red-and-blue lights flashing. She climbed out to face the music, surprised when Nick stayed close beside her.
She’d thought, for a split second, that the captain might revert to his older-brother habits and hug her as they met but thankfully he restrained himself.
Keira managed a smile. “Hi. This time, Nick gets the credit for saving my neck.”
Douglas arched a brow and scowled at her partner just the same. “Oh? Who was driving?”
“Nobody. We were parked,” Keira announced, waving her hands for emphasis. “Just sitting there minding our own business when a truck came along and sideswiped us.” She made a face. “And no, we couldn’t see who was driving or get the license number. But it shouldn’t be too hard to find an old, light-colored pickup with part of the FBPD logo from that door stuck to his dented fender.”
“Okay.” Captain Fitzgerald turned to give instructions to the other officers before continuing to question her. “If you were in the car, what part did Delfino have in all this?”
“I wasn’t totally inside,” Keira told him. “Nick saw we were about to be hit and jerked me out of the way.” Her smile grew naturally when she glanced over at her partner. “He’s lucky I didn’t slug him before I realized what was actually happening.”
“Can you give us a better description of the truck? Anything? Make, model, year?”
“It was old and rusty,” Nick said, citing a possible manufacturer. “Half-ton. Probably mid-eighties vintage, maybe a little older. The plates weren’t visible. And the driver looked male, although I wouldn’t swear to it.”
“Okay.” Douglas glanced past them to where Hank Monroe was gathering paint scrapings from the creased side of the SUV. “I’ll check it over. Doesn’t look like there’s much damage other than cosmetic. As long as that door still latches you might as well keep driving it until we have a chance to send it out for repairs.”
“This shouldn’t go against Keira’s record,” Nick said. “It wasn’t her fault. There was no way she could have avoided being hit.”
“Noted.” Douglas was eyeing Nick as he spoke and Keira felt compelled to defend him, as well.
“Neither of us is responsible,” she said firmly. “We came here to look at the condo, that’s all.”
“There was no indication of trouble prior to this incident?”
She could tell that her brother didn’t believe they’d had no forewarning so she decided to mention the other truck. “Actually, we had wondered if we were being followed after we left the inn but I don’t think the guy who hit us was the same one we’d been watching, so I can’t see any connection.”
“Followed? Explain.”
“That was my assumption,” Nick said. “I noticed a vehicle behind us and because Keira—Officer Fitzgerald—didn’t recognize it, we were on our guard.”
“And?”
Agreeing with Nick, Keira said, “That’s all there was to it. We thought we saw that particular vehicle parked down by the Smiths’ place so I loaned Nick my radio while he went to check it out. He’d just come back when somebody else decided to remodel my door.” She made a disgusted face as she glanced toward the patrol vehicle.
“We’ve been talking about installing dash cameras,” her brother said. “Maybe this will hurry up the process.” Looking past her, he assessed the scene as he handed her his personal radio. “Here. Take this till you can get an extra for Delfino. Hank and I’ll check the Smiths’ place just in case there’s any evidence over there but I wouldn’t hold my breath.”
“Unfortunately, I didn’t get close enough to see much,” Nick said. “I think that driver took off because he spotted me. I’m just thankful I was back here in time to help Keira.”
“So am I,” the captain said as he extended his hand to Nick. “Thanks.”
“All a part of the job,” Nick replied, accepting the friendly overture. “And while you’re here I may as well tell you that I’ll take the apartment—unless you’ve changed your mind.”
“Fine with me.” He quoted a monthly rate. “We won’t need a long-term lease, will we?”
It didn’t surprise Keira to hear Nick say, “No. I won’t be here long,” but it did take her aback when she felt a twinge of disappointment.
“What do you say we head back to town and grab a bite to eat?” Nick suggested as they drove away.
“Okay. Normally I’d suggest we eat at the Sugar Plum Café but in view of your recent hike up the river, I think it might be best if we went to Connolly’s Catch, down by the marina. It’s a lot more casual and the view of the bay is great.”
“Suits me. You’re driving. Is it far?”
“Not at all.” She was grinning. “I knew you’d like the condo. It has everything a bachelor like you needs. No carpets to vacuum, a simple kitchen, no yard to mow, windows that overlook half the town and two restaurants within walking distance, including the one we’re about to visit. And your neighbor is a fellow cop so there’ll always be somebody to watch your back.”
“What makes you think I need someone to do that? I thought this was basically a safe little town.”
“It was. Until you got here.”
He saw her shiver and decided to keep the rest of his thoughts to himself. After all, she knew about the murderer in their midst and if he mentioned that case too often she was bound to think he was attacking her doctor brother. That was the next person he wanted to meet, Nick decided easily. He’d encountered sociopaths who could skillfully hide their deviant behavior but most murderers were not that clever. If Charles Fitzgerald was half as normal as his sister insisted he was, he’d be easy to figure out.
“Well, here we are. What do you think?”
Nick glanced up at the colorful, enormous sign above the seafood-restaurant roof while Keira parked. “Connolly’s Catch. Interesting. At least it’s not Fitzgeralds’ Fishery or something like that. I was beginning to think there were no other families in town.”
She led the way up the wooden steps and onto the porch before she paused to say, “I have to confess. Vanessa Connolly, the owner, is my aunt. She and Dad are brother and sister.”
Nick smiled and politely held the door for her to pass. “Why am I not surprised?”
“There’s one more brother in that generation, too. Remember? I told you Uncle Mickey is the fire chief.”
