of the room to the other, then pivoting on her heel to change direction.
“Rucynski assumed it was a prank at first glance and decided there was no need to dig any further.” She turned again, her eyes fairly sparking with fury as her gaze met his. “If those are the kind of cops who investigated my brother’s case, no wonder he’s in prison.”
He stepped into her path, forcing her to either stop or run into him. “Did you call me to complain about the apparent ineptitude of the police, or was there another reason?”
She huffed out a frustrated breath. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I just hate being spoken down to, and Rucynski did everything but pat my head.”
“He isn’t the most diplomatic cop I’ve ever known, but his instincts are usually good.”
“Well, I don’t believe for a minute that this was a random act of vandalism.”
“What do you think it was?”
“A threat—to stop me from looking into the charges against Joe. Think about it,” she said. “My car getting trashed the same day I hired you is just too coincidental.”
“You really believe there’s a connection?”
“It’s the only explanation that makes any sense,” she insisted.
“Did you tell anyone about our meeting this morning?” he asked.
She shook her head. “After I left your office, I went straight to work, and I’ve never talked to anyone there about my brother’s situation.”
“Was there anyone who knew about your plan to meet with me?”
“Just Jordan. And your secretary.”
And it was unlikely that either Jordan or Caroline would have shared that information with someone who could be responsible for the damage done to Alicia’s vehicle. Which, if this wasn’t a random act, forced him to consider another possibility—that Alicia had been followed.
Before he could ask any more questions, she glanced down at her watch, then turned away from him. “I’m sorry to drag you out here then have to take off,” she said. “But I’m already late and the kids will be wondering where I am.”
“How are you going to take off without any tires on your car?”
“I’ll call my mechanic to have it towed and take a cab to my brother’s place.”
“Call for the tow,” he said. “I’ll give you a ride home.”
Alicia was surprised by his offer—and tempted to decline.
She was a woman who prided herself on not needing a man for anything, but the truth was, she couldn’t help her brother on her own. She did need Scott’s help. And he’d already come through for her twice today. The first time when she’d shown up at his office without an appointment, and the second when she’d tracked him down on his cell phone to tell him about the incident with her car.
So she set her pride aside again and responded, “That would be great. Thanks.”
He waited while she called her mechanic and didn’t say a word or express the slightest hint of impatience when what should have been a two-minute conversation turned into a much longer one while Ernie pried the details of the situation from her and expressed indignation for her car’s plight.
“Sorry about that,” she said when she’d finally hung up the phone.
“Not a problem,” Scott said easily. “Are you ready to go now?”
She nodded and reached for her duffel bag at the same time he did. Their fingers brushed and she jolted at the contact, instinctively pulling her hand away as he said, “I’ve got it.”
She felt as if she should protest, but didn’t bother when she saw how easily he slung the bag over his shoulder. The same bag she’d wrestled with to get it down the stairs to her car earlier, and then back up when it became obvious that she wasn’t going anywhere in her own vehicle.
She followed him out the door, her mind moving ahead to the various tasks waiting for her at her brother’s house.
Child care wasn’t just cooking dinners and packing lunches, she’d soon realized. It was getting the kids out of the house in time for the school bus in the morning, then chauffeuring Lia to her piano lessons and ballet classes and Joey to his track-and-field practices and soccer games after school. There was also homework to oversee, tests to study for and bedtimes to enforce, all the while trying to ensure that the children were adjusting—as if anyone could adjust—to their father’s absence.
Scott unlocked the passenger door of a sparkling powder-blue sportscar and tossed her bag into the back-seat before stepping back for her to slide in. She did so, almost sighing with pleasure as the butter-soft leather enfolded her in its embrace. He closed the door for her, then went around to take his seat behind the wheel.
As he turned the key in the ignition, the engine roared to life. His hand settled over the gearshift, his broad palm gently cupping the knob, his long fingers resting casually against the stick. He shifted gears and pulled away from the curb, the vehicle slipping smoothly into the stream of traffic.
Great hands, she thought, then tore her gaze away from the man and focused on the car.
“I would imagine it’s difficult for a private investigator to blend in driving something like this,” she said.
“I have another car for blending,” he told her. “This baby is for pure pleasure.”
“I can imagine,” she said, running a hand over the sleek contour of the dash. “Wow.”
“That’s exactly what I said the first time I saw her,” he admitted.
“Her?”
He shrugged. “The most beautiful things in the world are female.”
“And that includes a classic 1966 Corvette Stingray?”
“You know cars,” he said, sounding surprised.
Now it was her turn to shrug. “My brother has a knack for anything with an engine, and I picked up a few things here and there from hanging around the garage with him when we were kids.”
She fell silent, thinking about her brother and happier times. And she wished, more than anything, that he could be here with her now. He would love this car. More, he would love to be on his way home to be with his son and daughter instead of depending on her to take care of the children who meant the world to him.
“I’m guessing you picked up more than a few things,” Scott said. “And I have to wonder how a woman who can appreciate a spectacular machine like this could be satisfied driving a tin can on wheels.”
“My little car has been getting me where I need to go for the past eight years,” she told him.
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
“The answer is economics. My paycheck goes to rent,
