and she wasn’t sure what it was. Which made it even harder to answer. After a moment, she settled on something easy.
“Thank you. For picking me up and for taking me back, too.”
He replied just as simply. “You’re welcome. And speaking of which...we’re here.”
She fought the dizziness and propped herself up to look out the window. The street was eerily empty. And even though she knew it was because Jesse Garibaldi owned the whole block and all the owners were probably just getting ready for his party, it still made her shiver. Even the familiar sight of her family’s restaurant couldn’t help her shake her unease.
“See anything you don’t like?” Max asked.
“I don’t see anything at all,” she admitted. “But I still don’t like it. Could you drive around to the alley?”
“Sure.”
Very slowly, he guided the car to the end of the road. Reggie didn’t have to strain to see that it was as empty as the street.
Unless there’s a body behind the Dumpster.
She swallowed nervously and reached for the door handle.
“What are you doing?” Max demanded immediately.
“I need to get out and check.”
“Check what?”
Ignoring his question—mostly because she wasn’t sure she could answer without panicking again—she pushed open the door. From the front seat, the big man muttered something unintelligible, and before Reggie could even get both feet on the ground, he’d flung open his own door and made his way to her side of the car.
He positioned himself in front of her, arms crossed over his wide chest as he repeated, “Check what?”
She met his gaze as steadily as she could manage with her head swimming the way it was and made herself say the words. “Check for a body.”
Max’s eyes widened, then darkened as he shook his head. “We’re not checking for a body.”
“We have to.”
“Body checking is a police job.”
“Unless the police created the body.”
“Chuck?”
Reggie nodded, wincing at the sharp pain the motion caused. “There was a gun and another man and cop or not... I’m sure it wasn’t something legal.”
“Then you definitely shouldn’t be checking.”
“I have to, Max. What if the other guy is still alive and needs help?”
His mouth twisted like he wanted to argue, but after a second, he just shook his head again. “I’ll go.”
“No.”
“The second you step out of the car, you’re going to fall over. What’s going to happen if someone is back there, and he’s not happy to see you?”
Reggie wanted to protest that she wasn’t anywhere near falling down, but it would’ve been a lie. Her head definitely didn’t feel right. But she wasn’t excited about the idea of him risking himself either. Not for her sake.
She swallowed. “I don’t think it’s very safe.”
“I’ve got some experience dealing with the shadier side of life,” he assured her.
“That’s not exactly reassuring.”
“It just means I can handle whatever’s around the other side of that Dumpster.”
“You’re sure?”
“A hundred percent.”
She took a breath, then nodded. “Okay.”
He studied her for a second longer—like he was trying to figure something out—then moved to the passenger-side door on the front of the car. He opened it, then the glove box, too, and pulled out something shiny and metal.
A gun.
Reggie was shaking her head—pain be damned—before he even brought it back and held it out. “I can’t take that.”
“You’re scared. And for a minute or two, you’re going to be alone. This’ll give you some security,” he said.
“I don’t even know how to fire it.”
“This is an easy one. Flick off the safety, then click, point and shoot.” He demonstrated the steps once, then twice, then handed the weapon to her and made her repeat the sequence herself. “Good.”
Reggie couldn’t think of a worse word to describe the situation. Less than an hour ago, she’d been worrying that she wouldn’t have time to do her nails before Garibaldi’s party. Now she was sitting in a stranger’s car with a gun in her lap. And the stranger was telling her things would be fine and holding out his hand and expecting her to just take it.
“C’mon,” he said. “I’ll help you into the front.”
As she closed her fingers on his, a startling tingle shot up her arm. The sensation was strong enough that it momentarily blocked out the buzz in her head. Surprise made her loosen her hand, and she shot her gaze up, wondering if he felt the shock of sharp heat, too. But Max was focused on tightening his hold and pulling her out gently.
Reggie made herself dismiss the heady sensation as a side effect of her head bump, and let him guide her to the passenger seat. But it was impossible to deny the jolt of loss as he let her go.
“Key’s in the ignition,” he said. “If I don’t come back around that corner in five minutes, I want you to drive away. Fast and far enough away that you know your 911 call is going to go to a different city.”
Reggie opened her mouth to protest, but he was already closing the door. With her heart in her throat, she stared after him as his pressed himself to the edge of the building, then slipped around the corner and disappeared.
* * *
With well-practiced stealth, Brayden eased along the exterior brick wall of the Frost Family Diner. He’d already compartmentalized his worries so that he could focus on the moment. From the shoe in the cop’s back pocket to whether or not this whole situation related to his own case, to the fact that he found the pretty waitress’s green eyes utterly mesmerizing, everything had been tucked into a tidy corner of his mind. Even the ridiculous prick of heat he’d felt when he took her hand had been momentarily put aside. After all, he wouldn’t get a chance to experience it again if he couldn’t satisfy her need to check up on whatever had happened in the alley.
He moved along a little farther. He didn’t feel insecure about leaving behind his weapon; he was more than capable of winning in a hand-to-hand combat scenario. Even if his opponent came armed, Brayden had a few ways of disarming him without breaking much of a sweat. If worst came to worst, he could always rely on the small knife he kept tucked in
