glass halted her.
Before she could call Amorin again, a man hurtled out of the darkness. He knocked her sideways with his shoulder and kept running. In his haste, he slipped on the wooden floor, collided with the hall table and sent her lamp crashing to the ground.
Once the initial jolt subsided, Eden scrambled to her feet and rushed after him.
He couldn’t open the door. The knob kept slipping out of his hands. He resorted to kicking it and grunting like a pig.
Eden caught him easily—at least she caught his shirt. “You broke my lamp…” she began, but got no further. The door burst open and both of them were flung backward into the wall.
The intruder’s elbow plunged into her ribs. Panicked, he took off in search of an alternate exit. Eden knew he hadn’t found one when she heard a thump followed by a howl of pain.
Careful not to get kicked by flailing feet, she eased her arm up the wall and located the light switch. When she saw the man pinned on his stomach, she breathed out a disbelieving, “This night can’t be happening,” and sank back to the floor. “What,” she demanded with as much energy as she could muster, “are you doing here, Detective LaMorte?”
Armand had his right knee lodged in the intruder’s back, and his wrists held fast. He didn’t answer right away, and she didn’t repeat the question. “You’re an idiot, Kenny,” she said instead. “One of these days, someone’s going to forget how nice your mother is and press charges.”
In the process of handcuffing his prisoner, Armand stared at her. “You know this guy?”
“I know his mother. She lives across the courtyard. I only know Kenny in passing.”
Armand flipped the intruder over and studied his face. “How old are you? Sixteen? Seventeen?”
The young man swore at him.
“He looks sixteen,” Eden agreed. “He acts five. He’s really twenty-one.”
“Drugs?”
“For some reason he’s convinced I keep a supply of painkillers here. This is the fourth time in two months he’s broken in while I’ve been out. Before that, he was…” She stopped as the reality of the situation struck her. “Wait a minute, it’s two-thirty in the morning. What are you doing in my home, or anywhere near it for that matter?”
Wincing, she climbed to her feet.
Armand immediately abandoned his prisoner. “Are you hurt?”
“No.” She didn’t want him to touch her. However, he did, and in doing so, pinned her as effectively as he had Kenny.
“Don’t move,” he said. His fingers slid over her ribs with aggravating thoroughness. “You might have broken something.”
“I’m fine.” It took a huge effort not to grind her teeth. “Really.” She stopped his probing hands with her own. “I’d know if anything was broken. But thank you.”
“Going blind here,” Kenny wailed from the floor. “Light’s too bright.”
“Close your eyes,” Eden suggested. She concentrated on her own breathing. Why did sexy cops always have stubble? She nodded at the floor. “Worry about him, Armand. He’s photosensitive.”
He didn’t back off. “You could have a fracture and not know it.”
“Doctor first thing tomorrow—today—whatever. I promise.” When he ran his hands along her rib cage one last time and made her shiver, Eden finally took the initiative and stepped out of reach. “You haven’t answered my question, Detective.”
A smile curved his lips. “You called me Armand a minute ago.”
“I was in shock.” Because Kenny was whimpering, she took pity on him and dimmed the lights. Big mistake, she realized. It bathed the hallway in shadows and gave Armand back that air of mystery she’d been endeavoring to block out all evening.
He was taller than her and very lean. His hair fell past the collar of his shirt, curling just enough to make her fingers long to run through it.
Not going there, she promised herself and, tucking her hands behind her back, leaned against the stairwell wall.
“Why are you here?” she asked again.
He crouched to inspect Kenny’s eyes. “I had questions. When I realized you weren’t home, I waited.”
Disengaging her left hand, Eden massaged her aching ribs. “So you were on the street while Kenny was ransacking my apartment?”
“The plan was to ask questions, Eden, not anticipate a break and enter.”
“Fell asleep, huh?”
He sent her a wary look and didn’t respond.
Eden breathed in and out, decided it didn’t hurt too much, then stopped and raised her head. Where was Amorin?
“You can’t manhandle me,” Kenny snarled. “I’ll say you did if you jerk me around.”
“I’ll say he didn’t if you’ve let my cat out,” Eden retorted. “Where is she, Kenny?”
“Is she small and white?” Armand asked.
Eden followed his gaze—and pretty much gave up on the night. Her cat sat on the stairs, watching the scene below through unblinking eyes.
Setting Kenny aside, Armand reached up a finger to stroke the cat’s chest. “You don’t look much like Eden, do you, sweetheart?”
“We both scratch,” Eden remarked with mild asperity. “And, if necessary, bite.”
“Are you going to bite me?” he asked the cat.
Amorin stared for several more seconds, then rubbed her head against his hand.
“Like seeks out like.” Eden echoed Mary’s earlier sentiment. Exasperated, she glanced at Armand’s prisoner who was now on his feet. “For God’s sake, Kenny, make up your mind. Either whimper or snarl, but choose one and stick to it.”
Armand gave him a shove. “Do you want to press charges?”
“No, take him home and let his mother deal with him.”
She felt Armand’s eyes on her face. “I still have questions, Eden.”
“You won’t get coherent answers at this time of the morning, Detective. Kenny’s mother lives across the courtyard. It’s the patio with the rose arbor.”
“Are you sure you’re all right?”
“I’m not hurt if that’s what you mean.” There was another lamp beside her, but for some reason Eden didn’t turn it on. “Lisa’s innocent. If you’re a good cop, you’ll prove that.”
He held Kenny back as he bridged a portion
