she turned around and glanced up at Donovan. Her dark hair was pulled back into a ponytail and her eyes were covered by aviator sunglasses. “Well, come on. He’s going to send you to the station regardless of what I have to say about it.”
This must be the niece. Dressed in jeans and a black T-shirt knotted at her hip, she didn’t give him many clues as to what she might have to do today. Donovan could see why Dillon told him Captain was protective. She was attractive, albeit a tad rude. She stormed ahead before coming to an abrupt stop.
“I was about to call for a car, but I assume you have one?”
Donovan moseyed up beside her. “I do. Where are you headed in such a hurry?”
She took off her sunglasses, revealing the most stunning crystal-blue eyes. “The station,” she said in a flustered tone. “I have a meeting before my show.”
“Station?” The only station Donovan was aware of was the one he just left.
Kelly’s head rolled back and she sighed. “He didn’t tell you anything, did he?”
“I was directed to go where you go, miss. That’s what he told me and that’s what I’ll have to do.”
“I work at K104, the radio station. I need to get there in the next twenty minutes or my station manager is not going to be happy with me. This would be the same station manager who will hopefully be renewing my contract soon and I really don’t need her to be unhappy. Maybe I can drive? Which car is yours?” She held out her hand as if he might actually consider relinquishing his keys to her. That was not happening. No one drove his truck except him.
“I’m right over here,” he said, pointing to his black F150 and wishing he had asked for one of the station’s cars. Being on desk duty meant he was only allowed to use his personal vehicle.
Kelly didn’t follow him. “Since when does the Nashville PD drive around in pickup trucks?” she asked. “Can I see your badge?”
Donovan grimaced. That was a problem. No gun or badge. “Funny story,” he said, slowly spinning around to face her and the can of pepper spray that was pointed at him.
“STAY WHERE YOU ARE.” Kelly fumbled for her phone. How could she have been so stupid as to not ask for identification? She redialed her uncle. “Tell me your name again,” she demanded from the stranger.
“Walsh. Detective Walsh.”
Kelly’s heart was thumping so hard that it was becoming a distraction. Her hand shook so much that she feared she’d trigger the pepper spray before finding out who this guy was for sure. At the same time, she prayed he didn’t attack her before her uncle picked up. “I don’t know any detectives who forget their badge at home.”
“I didn’t forget it.” He sighed as if she was irritating him. “I can show you the piece of paper your uncle wrote your name and address on.”
“I’m not going to argue with you, Kelly,” her uncle said when he answered the phone. “I won’t pull him, so get used to it while I hunt your stalker down.”
“The guy here says his name is Detective Walsh, but he doesn’t have a badge or a cop car. He’s about six-three, has short-cropped brown hair, no facial hair. Built like he could wrestle an alligator and win. He’s wearing navy pants, a pale blue button-down and a green tie. No jacket.”
With his hands on his hips, her possible stalker stared down at his feet. If he wasn’t who he said he was, he didn’t seem very nervous about a real detective showing up.
Uncle Hal gave a little chuckle. “That’s my guy, Kell Bell. He is who he says he is. He’s doing this as a favor to me, so he isn’t carrying his badge.”
Kelly lowered her pepper spray and took a deep breath in hopes her heart would slow down now. “I don’t love this plan, Uncle Hal.”
“I know, sweetheart. But it’s the only one I’ve got right now. If anything happened to you...”
Kelly understood he was only doing what he thought best. She was the daughter of police officers. Her dad had been a homicide detective and her mom was a desk sergeant in Knoxville. Growing up, her curfew was earlier than all of her friends’ because her parents couldn’t bear it if anything bad ever happened to her because they knew exactly what kind of bad things could happen.
“Okay, he says you are who you say you are,” she said as she hung up the phone.
Detective Walsh acted as if this was how he spent every Wednesday. He unlocked his truck, completely unfazed by what had happened. “Pepper spray is a terrible way to protect yourself, by the way.”
“It stopped you cold,” she replied, feeling defensive. She’d spent her life trying to prove she could take care of herself and now another cop was telling her that she couldn’t do it.
“That’s because I had no intent to do you harm. If I had, I could have easily turned your pepper spray against you.”
Who did this guy think he was? “Oh, really? Well, I wouldn’t have hesitated to spray you in the face, and this stuff will incapacitate anyone.”
He shook his head and opened the passenger door for her. “First of all, the wind was blowing away from me and toward you. Secondly, pepper spray is not guaranteed to stop everyone. If your attacker is drunk or on drugs, he might just get angrier.”
Kelly climbed in the truck and put her seat belt on, letting his comments sink in. She hadn’t noticed the wind. It couldn’t have been strong enough to blow it back at her, could it? Detective Walsh got in the driver’s seat.
“And what if that little girl over there was asthmatic or that older lady and her dog walked through the cloud and inhaled it?” he asked. “You could have done serious damage to some innocent people.”
Kelly hadn’t considered how it could affect anyone other than the attacker. She suddenly had the urge to throw her pepper spray in the garbage. “So, what would you suggest I do to keep myself safe?”
“Have you ever taken a self-defense class before? Your body is really the best weapon.”
Her mother had been trying to get her to take one for years, which was probably why she hadn’t. She lived in a safe neighborhood, didn’t run around at night alone and believed people—for the most part—were good. Until yesterday, she had never felt like she needed to protect herself that way. The pepper spray was an emotional impulse buy last night after she dropped her car off at the body shop.
“I’ll have to look into it.”
Their drive continued in silence once she gave him the address of the station to put into his phone’s GPS. The quiet unnerved her. Detective Walsh only seemed to speak when he needed to. Kelly, on the other hand, talked for a living. Silence was dead air.
“I wish I had time to stop for coffee. Everything in my life feels off because of this.” The meeting with Caroline was important and Kelly was so distracted. The impression she wanted to make today was not of some discombobulated airhead. Detective Walsh had
