she was relatively certain that she should be glad in this instance that she hadn’t heard what he’d said. If the furious sparks in his eyes were anything to go by, she had a feeling he hadn’t been welcoming her to Boston.
Sam Roberts stared pensively out the window and tried to get a grip on his temper. He had grown up tough, always lashing out furiously and without thought. It had kept him in hot water most of his adolescence. Raised by his sister, he’d rebelled against everything. It sometimes astonished him that Dana had put up with all his garbage—defending him, bailing him out of trouble, loving him. For her sake, he’d finally learned to control the temper that was currently being put to an extreme test.
He struggled to stay calm as he considered the promise that had gotten him into this fix, a promise made to Brandon Halloran, the man who’d really turned his life around. Granddad Brandon had treated him with the kind of respect that a man felt compelled to earn. He owed the old man. So when Brandon had called a few days earlier and asked just one thing of him—that he look out for Penny Hayden—Sam had no choice but to agree, even though his last experience with the kid hadn’t ended so well.
The role of undercover cop-turned-babysitter didn’t appeal to him, but a debt was a debt. He was beginning to see why Brandon had thought the brat needed someone to watch out for her. Apparently she thought she was invincible. She’d scrapped with him as if she considered it an even match. She didn’t need a babysitter. She needed an armed guard.
Not that Sam entirely trusted Brandon’s motives. The old man had a habit of meddling in the lives of everyone he cared about. He’d even been making noises about it being about time that Sam found himself a woman to smooth out his remaining rough edges. What twenty-eight-year-old Sam had told him was succinct and hopefully threatening enough to snuff out any matchmaking ideas the old man might have had.
But this thing with Penny had surfaced a little too conveniently for his liking. He would do it, though, because he’d learned one important lesson from the Hallorans: families always stuck together—and the Hallorans had made him one of their own from the instant Jason Halloran had married his sister. Today was the first time in a long while that he’d regretted the family ties.
Unfortunately, at the moment he had an even bigger regret. He hadn’t noticed the precise instance when Penny’s supreme self-confidence had slipped away. He’d never meant to scare her to death. In fact, he had actually thought she’d recognized him. That smile of hers had certainly been friendly enough. Not until she’d attacked him had he gotten the message that she’d panicked, thinking that a stranger was about to harm her.
Dammit all, as a cop who dealt with crime victims all the time he should have had better sense. He could have calmed her with a word or two, just by the mention of his name, in fact. Although, given the way their last encounter so many years ago had turned out, she might have attacked him, anyway. Instead, though, he’d reacted as he would have in the old days, instinctively fighting back rather than being ruled by his head. His lack of sensitivity grated. Apparently he was doomed to getting it wrong whenever Penny was involved.
Just as he figured that the day had gotten just about as bad as it could get, he heard the sound of sirens and realized it was about to get worse. The guys at the station weren’t going to let him live this down anytime soon.
Muttering another oath under his breath as they pounded up the steps, he strode over to let them in. He wished belatedly that he’d taken the time to clear up this misunderstanding before their arrival. Unfortunately he’d been afraid to open his mouth, fearful of what would come out.
He had to admit, though, that he took a sort of grim satisfaction in the prospect of watching Penny Hayden stumble all over herself to explain why she’d called the cops on her own relative, albeit one only distantly related by marriage,
The first cop up the stairs, taking them two at a time, gun drawn, was Ryan O’Casey. He was followed by his burly, African-American partner, Jefferson Kennedy Washington, who was called that only by someone who had a death wish. He was J.K. or Jake to his colleagues on the force.
Both men froze at the sight of Sam. “You just get here?” Ryan asked. “What’s happening inside?”
“What’s happening inside is that this cretin manhandled me, broke into my apartment and probably intended to kill me,” an indignant voice said quite calmly from a point slightly above Sam’s elbow.
Sam had forgotten exactly how tiny Penny Hayden was, or maybe it was his own belated spurt of growth and years of weight training that made her suddenly seem small. The way she’d taken him on in that hallway told him size wasn’t something she worried about. He swore again and tried to ignore the amusement that immediately crowded the worry straight off both men’s faces.
“You picking on the little people again, Sam?” Jake demanded, looking Penny up and down approvingly. “You know Ryan hates it when you do that.”
“Very funny,” Sam retorted, scowling at the whole lot of them.
Penny glanced from one policeman to the other and apparently didn’t like what she saw. “Aren’t you going to arrest him? Put some handcuffs on him?”
“I doubt that’ll be necessary, miss,” Ryan said politely. He glanced pointedly at the gathering of neighbors in the hall. Every single door had been flung open. “Maybe we should take this inside, see if we can’t straighten it out.”
“Good idea,” Jake said.
“I do not want this man in my apartment,” Penny informed them, trying to block the way. “I want him locked up in a cell so that he can’t harm other innocent citizens.”
“Oh, give it a rest,” Sam snapped as he lifted her aside, then marched over to the unopened bottle of whiskey he’d spotted on the kitchen counter and poured himself a stiff drink. He held up the bottle. “Anybody else want one?”
“We’re on duty,” Jake reminded him. His gaze narrowed. “Thought you were, too.”
“Nope. I’m taking the rest of the day off. I consider it a hazardous-duty benefit.”
Penny was regarding them all suspiciously. “What’s going on here?”
“Well, ma’am, that’s what we’d like you to tell us,” Ryan said.
He said it in his most courteous tone, Sam noted. He and Jake made a good team. Ryan soothed, while Jake tended to make suspects quake in their boots without ever opening his mouth. He just loomed over them.
“Sam here is a police officer,” Ryan explained softly. “I’m guessing he must have been here on a stakeout. Is that right, Sam?”
“Something like that,” he agreed.
Penny’s mouth gaped. “A policeman? Sam?” Something that might have been comprehension flickered in her eyes. An interesting shade of red crept up her neck and into her cheeks.
“Sam Roberts?” she said weakly, sinking onto the sofa.
He lifted the glass in her direction. “Nice to see you again.”
“Oh, hell,” she murmured.
He took considerable satisfaction in seeing her day disintegrate right before his eyes. He figured that made them just about even. Granddad Brandon, on the other hand, still had to pay up big-time.
Chapter
