wouldn’t have made the same decision if you were in my shoes.”
“So now you want my resignation.”
“No, I don’t. My gut says you’re clean. I want you to stay on as acting chief for the next month and to return to captain of investigative services after that.”
Colin McAllister gave an incredulous laugh. “You’re a son of a bitch. You know that, Chandler?”
Yeah. He could be. Today, a son of a bitch who felt like he was developing an ulcer. “Tell me you wouldn’t have made the same decision,” he repeated.
“I wouldn’t have made the same decision.” Muscles knotted in the other man’s jaw. “Are we done here?”
“Think about what you want to do.”
“Oh, yeah, I’ll be thinking.”
Noah nodded. “Then we’re done.”
He walked out, deciding he might have a beer with lunch, something he never did. He was also thinking he’d just made an enemy—and the new police chief and he weren’t set up to be good friends, either.
Leaving the building and ignoring curious glances, it occurred to him that Colin McAllister and Alec Raynor were unlikely to have a real cordial relationship, either, not when one was taking over the job the other had wanted, and thought he’d earned.
Had earned, Noah admitted, if only to himself.
He paused on the sidewalk to let two lanky boys on skateboards shoot by before he turned back toward downtown.
Half the city council members despised and feared Noah, who despised them in turn and was plotting to get rid of them as soon as he could.
His mouth tilted up at the black humor. Yep, city government, as usual.
This called for two beers with the burger and fries he intended to have for lunch.
CHAPTER ONE
“GOOD WORKOUT,” a woman called from down the row as Cait McAllister slammed her locker door closed and picked up her gym bag.
Smiling her agreement, Cait lifted a hand. “See you Thursday.”
Today’s class had combined step aerobics with what the instructor called “butt and gut,” exercises aimed at core muscles. Cait was currently alternating this class with kickboxing. Conscious of a pleasant ache, she liked that she was getting stronger all the time.
She especially liked the feeling because Blake sneered at women wanting to be muscular.
Swiping her card to check out at the front desk of the health club, Cait grimaced. Oh, sure, show how defiant you are now.
The truth was, Blake hadn’t liked much of anything that took her focus away from him. With every day, week and month since she’d broken up with him, she had realized how much she’d surrendered. Friends, activities, even time to herself. She still couldn’t believe she’d let it happen.
Problem was, he thought their relationship had been perfect, with only the little flaw that she’d left him. Five months down the line, he still couldn’t believe she had meant it when she’d said, “We’re done.” In fact, she paused now at the door, uneasy to be going out into the dark parking lot. In the glass she could see the reflection of the bright interior: herself, two guys leaving one of the racquetball rooms, laughing and wiping sweat from their faces, an employee behind the desk. Outside: nobody.
She could ask for an escort to her car.
Ridiculous. She’d moved a few weeks ago and was bunking with another grad student, so her name didn’t appear on a lease anywhere. She was on a second new cell phone number. She’d changed health clubs again—this was only her third week coming here. She’d found yet another new favorite Thai restaurant, stopped at different coffee shops. Taken to varying her parking on campus when she needed to use the library at the university or talk to her adviser, rather than automatically heading for a certain lot. Shopped at a different grocery store each time. Tried to become unpredictable in as many ways as she could.
Blake actually did have a job. He couldn’t possibly be stalking her 24/7. Plus, she really thought he’d freaked even himself out when they’d had that last fight in November and he had hurt her badly enough she’d had to be hospitalized overnight. So far, when he tracked her down, he’d been coaxing, not threatening.
Even so...it was April now, and he hadn’t given up. To him, her “no” meant “I’m still mad at you, but I’ll come around eventually.” His frustration and anger had been thinly veiled the last time she’d seen him, when he’d suddenly fallen in behind her with his shopping cart in the cereal aisle at Whole Foods and stayed with her until she drove away. He had pulled out right behind her, too, and tailgated until she’d darted onto the freeway and then off, so last-minute she’d heard brakes squealing behind her and caught a glimpse of his furious face when he couldn’t make the exit, too.
Cait squared her shoulders. He couldn’t possibly know she was here. She refused to huddle at home every evening. Between her thirty-hour-a-week job and work on her dissertation, her days were full.
Nobody else seemed even to be close to ready to leave, so she pushed open the door and went out.
She was parked just around the corner of the building. There were pools of darkness, but really the lot was well lit. Lights of a passing car on the street washed over her, momentarily blinding her and leaving her trying to blink away dancing spots.
Even so, she was still a good ten or fifteen feet from her car when she saw that a man leaned against the hatchback. She stopped, and he straightened at the sight of her.
“Hey,” Blake said, totally friendly. “I was passing and saw your car.”
He couldn’t have seen her car from the road. He’d either followed her or taken to prowling the parking lots of health clubs she might conceivably have joined.
Cait stayed where she was, wishing someone—anyone—else would come out. A couple of guys would be really good. Poised to run, she also eased her hand into her purse, groping for her phone and praying he couldn’t see what she was doing.
“I’ve asked you to leave me alone, Blake.” Thank God, her voice was calm and confident.
He took a step toward her. “I can’t even say hello?” He sounded offended, as if she’d been rude.
Bad moment to be hit with how really skewed his perspective was. He was not normal. Of course, she’d already known that, but...
Later.
Refusing to retreat, she lifted her chin. Her fingers touched a smooth, flat surface. Her phone, thank God. Now, could she dial without being able to see what she was doing?
“No,” she said. “I don’t even want you to say hello. I really don’t want you cornering me in dark parking lots.”
“I didn’t corner you—I waited for you!” Anger was making his voice more guttural. “How can I say I’m sorry if you won’t listen to me?”
“You’ve
