won’t get away with it,” she said with certainty.
“Yeah.” Trevor’s grim expression suggested he would see to it himself.
Was he going to get caught up in another officer-involved shooting? Was the goal she’d sensed in him as he lay dying to right this wrong by committing a wrong himself?
She shuddered. Maybe she had made a mistake after all. Her intent, as always, was to help those who needed—and deserved—it. Was this police officer a loose cannon who would kill a suspect first and ask questions later? But he had been cleared of wrongdoing in those past shootings. There was no reason to think he would kill anyone, even Marinaro.
Even so, she had a sudden urge to leave, to never see him again.
Won’t happen, taunted a perverse voice inside her. They were both part of the ABPD. They’d see each other around.
Well…okay. Good, in fact. No matter what, she was intrigued by him—wanted to understand his side of those shootings and why she had such a strong sense of connection when she saved him.
“Did you say anything to me then?” he asked. “I mean, when you saw me on the floor. I can’t remember a whole lot that happened then, but I remember seeing you, and I thought I heard you say something.”
“I don’t think so.” It wasn’t a lie. She hadn’t said anything…aloud. And only she heard her internal voices.
At least no one she had ever saved in the past had mentioned them. But, then again, she’d hardly been able to ask any of them—any more than she could ask Officer Trevor Owens.
There are other things you could learn from him, that same internal voice taunted. Like his apparent intense desire to get the bad guy?
Or just desire.
She felt herself flush from uneasiness…and sexual attraction. And as their eyes caught again, there was more that made her uncomfortably warm.
No way could Trevor Owens know that she had restored him to life…or could he?
Trevor knew for sure now that he was still alive.
Her slim, coplike yet gracefully curvy form and her intoxicating scent made him ache. He wanted this woman.
Yeah, as if your body could follow through right now.
She was interested, too. He could tell from the look on her face. But Trevor knew Officer Skye Rydell was lying about something.
What? And why?
He studied her.
He liked seeing her in civilian clothes and with loose hair. He wondered what women called that shade of blond—or those shades. It was streaked—some strands were almost white, though most were several shades darker. She usually wore it pulled back and fastened behind her neck as required by the department. With it loose, she looked even more female.
Being so close to her let him get a good look at her gorgeous face—smooth, with a perfectly shaped if slightly long nose and lips that, even without lipstick, were pink and full and suggested slow, hot kisses at midnight on a deserted local beach.
The pale denim blue of her shirt deepened the blue of her eyes. Those eyes…One of the few things he remembered from when he was lying on the floor was looking up into those intense eyes and feeling as if they were lifting him back to life.
But it wasn’t only the way she’d looked at him that he remembered.
When he was barely conscious, he had the odd sensation that he shared something with her. Something vital. Hallucinations by a guy close to death? Sure. What else could it be?
“You’re sure you didn’t say anything?” he finally asked again.
Something different—perhaps embarrassment?—passed across her face.
She might be a liar, but she wasn’t a very good one.
But why lie about something so trivial?
“You didn’t look very well, so I might have murmured some good wishes or a prayer or something like that.”
Something like that. But what?
“Well, anyway, I asked Greg Blanding to call you for me. I figured I’d thank you.”
For what? Hell, he didn’t know. If things had gone as he’d assumed at the time, he wouldn’t have seen this woman, or anyone else, ever again.
“I can’t imagine why, but you’re welcome.”
“They say I won’t be out of here for a few days.”
“I’m sure they want to make certain you’re all right,” she said. “Anyway, I don’t want to tire you out.” She rose.
He wanted her to stay. “I’m fine. Honest. If you sit back down, I’ll tell you my life story.”
She laughed. “If I sit back down, I’ll tell you my life story, and then you’ll be so bored you’ll sleep till they let you out of here.”
“I’ll take that chance.”
“No, really, I have to go. Bella’s waiting at home.”
“Your dog? She’s great.”
“Yes, she is.”
“Will you come see me again?” Damn. He sounded like a begging wuss who’d never seen a pretty woman before. “I mean, I’d like your view of what happened. How that SOB got away with all of us there.”
“I imagine you’ll get a better perspective from your fellow SWAT team members,” she said, appearing puzzled.
“Yeah, but I figured a K-9 officer’s ideas would be interesting.”
“Well…I’m sure I’ll see you around once you’re back on active duty.”
She’d reached the door and was almost out. Almost gone. But he knew there was something more, something she could—should—tell him that was critical to what had happened to him.
He’d thought he was dead. He survived. She wouldn’t be able to tell him more about it…would she?
“I’ll see you before then,” he called after her. “You can count on it.”
Chapter 4
Three days had passed since the incident.
Skye was sitting in her cubicle with Bella before starting their assignments for the day and thinking about how frayed everyone’s nerves remained—especially since there had been no breakthrough in their hunt for the suspect, Marinaro.
On top of that, the Force Investigation Division was not inclined to let much time elapse between the officer-involved shootings and their incisive debriefings that also played havoc with everyone’s psyches.
