not an officer, but we work at the same place. So how do we sucker them in?”
“I like the way you think, Drew Simmons,” Nick said, and grinned. “Hang on. I’m going to pull into the golf course entrance. It’s a dead end. Once I stop, jump out on your side and use the Jeep for cover. I’ll take the shotgun. If they start shooting, make sure you stay behind the engine block.”
Nick pulled into the dead-end street. Quickly swerving to his left, he took the Jeep into a slow skid, stopping sideways to the street entrance.
Nick took aim with the shotgun, bracing it across the hood. “Stay down,” he yelled.
The van’s brakes squealed as the driver skidded to a stop, the lights illuminating the Jeep.
“Police officer. Out of the van, hands where I can see them,” Nick yelled, averting his eyes to avoid looking directly into the lights.
The van’s engine roared as the driver slammed the vehicle into Reverse, burning rubber.
Nick stepped out from behind the Jeep, and squeezed off a round of number four buckshot at the van’s driver-side front tire. Sparks flew from the ground as the vehicle fish-tailed violently.
“Stop! Police!” He fired and struck the front of the van just above the bumper.
The van continued in Reverse, then the driver hit the brakes hard. The van whipped around a full hundred and eighty degrees and raced away from them.
Nick switched the shotgun to his left hand and reached into his pocket for his cell phone. “I think I holed their radiator. They won’t get far—I hope,” he said, watching the taillights disappear into the darkness.
Drew heard him calling in his report as she joined him. “Why weren’t you carrying your service handgun? Because you’re off duty?” she asked. “No, never mind. I remember now. You’re the Blacksheep brother who tossed Ray Owens over the hood of his car. Speaking for most of the women in the PD, we stand ready to buy you the best dinner in town.”
“You said you worked for the PD, but I don’t think I’ve seen you before,” Nick said, his gaze taking her in slowly and very thoroughly.
She suppressed the shiver that ran up her spine. He was every bit as good-looking as everyone had said, but it was that intense look he was giving her, as if he could see directly into her soul, that made her tingle all the way down to her toes. “I was supposed to take over as head librarian here in town, but the hiring freeze has me doing temp work for city government instead. Right now I’m training to take over for Beth Michaels, the department’s record clerk.”
“The library’s loss is our department’s gain,” he said, giving her a steamy smile.
Her brain suddenly went into neutral and she didn’t know what to say. Horrified by her own reaction, she cleared her throat and tried to appear calm and collected. “Thanks for helping me out,” Drew said. “I’m glad I met you, Detective Blacksheep.” Drew extended her hand, then quickly pulled it back. “I’m sorry. I just remembered that people from your tribe don’t like to shake hands.”
“Not with an enemy, or a stranger, but you and I are now connected,” Nick told her.
His hand felt calloused and hard as it enveloped hers. Everything about him looked tough and unyielding—and incredibly and irresistibly male. No wonder half the women in the department had fantasies about him. Nick and Travis Blacksheep were the hot, number-one topic on the clerical staff’s minds.
As Nick answered a call and walked away for privacy, she gazed at him. He was wearing a brown leather jacket, so she couldn’t see much about his upper body, except for his wide shoulders. The dark slacks he wore fit him closely and revealed the best buns in the county.
Drew sighed and tried to remember everything she’d heard about Nick Blacksheep. Word had it that getting him interested in anything more than a one-night stand was like trying to capture the wind. The only person he was close to was his brother, Travis.
Nick slipped the phone back into his jacket pocket and joined her once more. “Why were those men after you?”
“I have no idea. By the time I noticed the van, it was too late to do anything but react. They sideswiped my car, forcing me into the ditch. I got out of the car and ran, but I didn’t get far. They were dragging me back to their van when you came up. The rest you saw.” Drew swallowed hard. She’d come through it alive and unhurt, and that was the important thing. “It’s over,” she said, for her own benefit.
“I know you don’t want to think about what happened anymore, but I need to you stay focused and remember as many of the details as you can,” he said.
He was right. She took an unsteady breath. “For a minute or two I wasn’t sure what was going to happen to me. Then…” Her voice suddenly broke and she forced herself to swallow, determined not to cry. She wouldn’t fall apart, not now.
Nick came closer to her, almost touching, yet not. “You’re all right now, Drew. No one’s going to hurt you.”
He stood just inches away, and for one brief moment she became aware of everything about him. His scent was earthy and male, and called to her wordlessly, sparking her imagination and teasing her senses.
“You handled yourself well and showed a lot of courage tonight,” he said, his voice soothing, even as danger gleamed in his eyes.
“Fear gives you the ability to do things you never dreamed possible,” she said.
He nodded, understanding. “Yes, it does.” He glanced over at the ditch bank. “Now let’s go back to your car and check out the damage.”
THEY WERE BACK AT THE original scene a few minutes later and Nick parked about fifty feet away from the rear of her sedan. The right front tire, resting at the bottom of the shallow drainage ditch, was stuck in soft ground. The dome light was still on, and her passenger-side door was ajar.
They climbed out to look, standing in the dim glow of the streetlight. When it appeared that she intended on moving closer, he grabbed her arm. “Better stay on the pavement. We have to preserve evidence, like those shoe prints in the soft sand. This wasn’t an ordinary carjacking.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Your car…isn’t new,” he said after a beat. “There’s no market for it, intact or stripped for parts.”
She gave him a weak smile. “Translation—it was a rolling wreck even before I got forced into the ditch.”
As a chill wind whipped past her, she shuddered. “My coat’s on the ground near the passenger side. I slipped out of it when they first tried to grab me. Can I go get it if I watch where I step?”
“Better not. That’s evidence. If they handled it there’s no telling what they left behind for the lab techs,” he said, then took off his leather jacket and placed it over her shoulders.
“Now you’ll be cold,” she said, feeling the warmth of his jacket envelope her.
“I’m wearing a wool sweater. I’m fine.”
Sirens rose in the distance, and soon two police units pulled up, emergency
