the clinch with Mal, murmuring a hello.
“Hey, sweetheart.” Rafe planted a kiss on her cheek. His eyes searched her face. “You
okay?”
Leah nodded. “I’m fine.”
Mal leaned forward and kissed her opposite cheek.
“Chay called you?” Gabe asked his friends.
“I did,” Leah interjected. “I figured Chay would want you all here for support.”
Gabriel stared at her and wondered if there would come a day when she would cease
to amaze him. Beautiful, intelligent, and compassionate.
“This is a mess.” Mal glanced toward the front porch. If the officers’ presence disturbed
him, he concealed it well. But then, Mal had always been the rock of their group,
older than the rest of them by ten hours. Even as a teenager, he’d been more mature
than his years, the natural leader of their group, whom they all turned to for the
guidance only one teen male could give another. Mal turned back to Leah. “So you’ve
been inside,” he stated. When she nodded in acknowledgment, his tone hardened. “I
guess it didn’t occur to you that whoever did this could still be in the house?”
Leah glared, her shoulders stiffening.
Rafe’s muttered, “ Fuck ,” didn’t go undetected by her. Her fierce scowl swung in his direction, blasted him.
“Don’t you dare start with the overprotective bullshit.”
“Sorry, sweetheart,” Rafe said, holding his hands up. “But I happen to agree with
Mal. You could’ve been hurt, or worse.”
“In case you’ve forgotten, I was a police officer for six years. In that time I learned
a little—just a little, mind you—regarding the correct procedures upon entering an
unsecured crime scene,” she stated with such icy precision Gabriel wondered if Rafe’s
balls might be frostbitten. “I assure you both the integrity of the evidence and my safety were uppermost in my mind. The blood smears on the door were dry. And the
smell of decomp when I opened the door was unmistakable. That scene had obviously
been undisturbed for a while. No one was in that house.”
Maybe Mal and Rafe realized pursing the line of conversation meant having their asses
handed to them in slings. Or maybe they, too, caught the hurt ghosting across her
eyes. Gabriel swallowed, glanced away.
Part of him wanted to reach out and stroke a hand over her soft, black hair, press
a kiss to her forehead. She was a strong, smart, capable woman who, despite her personal
connection to the home and possible victim involved, had handled the grisly crime
scene with a cool, level head. As a suspense author, he’d heard more than one cop
complain about inexperienced or clumsy first-response officers inadvertently bungling
a scene when they stumbled upon it. But not Leah. Boston PD had lost a jewel when
she’d resigned.
On the other hand, the coward who fanatically sought to protect his heart from further
harm yearned to wrap her in plastic bubble wrap and ship her to a deserted island
where the most danger came from eating the wrong berries. Too clearly he recalled
sitting in the hospital, frantic as they waited on word about the surgery required
to remove the bullet from her hip.
“I’m sorry,” Mal said softly. “You’re right. Sometimes it’s hard to flip off the big-brother
switch.”
“I apologize, too, sweetie.” Rafe winked. “Even though I believe Mal was a bigger
ass than me.” When Leah snorted, he rubbed a palm down her arm, a silent apology added
to his spoken one. “So what brought you by here, anyway?”
“Evelyn came up in a case I’m investigating. Richard Pierce’s disappearance.”
The announcement plummeted into their midst like a huge stone into a still pool. Leah
may not have noticed the ripple effects of her declaration, but Gabriel immediately
saw the anxiety tightening the corners of Mal’s mouth and the stiffening of Rafe’s
shoulders.
“Your uncle?” Rafe asked, no trace of his customary amusement evident
“Hey, sweetheart.” Rafe planted a kiss on her cheek. His eyes searched her face. “You
okay?”
Leah nodded. “I’m fine.”
Mal leaned forward and kissed her opposite cheek.
“Chay called you?” Gabe asked his friends.
“I did,” Leah interjected. “I figured Chay would want you all here for support.”
Gabriel stared at her and wondered if there would come a day when she would cease
to amaze him. Beautiful, intelligent, and compassionate.
“This is a mess.” Mal glanced toward the front porch. If the officers’ presence disturbed
him, he concealed it well. But then, Mal had always been the rock of their group,
older than the rest of them by ten hours. Even as a teenager, he’d been more mature
than his years, the natural leader of their group, whom they all turned to for the
guidance only one teen male could give another. Mal turned back to Leah. “So you’ve
been inside,” he stated. When she nodded in acknowledgment, his tone hardened. “I
guess it didn’t occur to you that whoever did this could still be in the house?”
Leah glared, her shoulders stiffening.
Rafe’s muttered, “ Fuck ,” didn’t go undetected by her. Her fierce scowl swung in his direction, blasted him.
“Don’t you dare start with the overprotective bullshit.”
“Sorry, sweetheart,” Rafe said, holding his hands up. “But I happen to agree with
Mal. You could’ve been hurt, or worse.”
“In case you’ve forgotten, I was a police officer for six years. In that time I learned
a little—just a little, mind you—regarding the correct procedures upon entering an
unsecured crime scene,” she stated with such icy precision Gabriel wondered if Rafe’s
balls might be frostbitten. “I assure you both the integrity of the evidence and my safety were uppermost in my mind. The blood smears on the door were dry. And the
smell of decomp when I opened the door was unmistakable. That scene had obviously
been undisturbed for a while. No one was in that house.”
Maybe Mal and Rafe realized pursing the line of conversation meant having their asses
handed to them in slings. Or maybe they, too, caught the hurt ghosting across her
eyes. Gabriel swallowed, glanced away.
Part of him wanted to reach out and stroke a hand over her soft, black hair, press
a kiss to her forehead. She was a strong, smart, capable woman who, despite her personal
connection to the home and possible victim involved, had handled the grisly crime
scene with a cool, level head. As a suspense author, he’d heard more than one cop
complain about inexperienced or clumsy first-response officers inadvertently bungling
a scene when they stumbled upon it. But not Leah. Boston PD had lost a jewel when
she’d resigned.
On the other hand, the coward who fanatically sought to protect his heart from further
harm yearned to wrap her in plastic bubble wrap and ship her to a deserted island
where the most danger came from eating the wrong berries. Too clearly he recalled
sitting in the hospital, frantic as they waited on word about the surgery required
to remove the bullet from her hip.
“I’m sorry,” Mal said softly. “You’re right. Sometimes it’s hard to flip off the big-brother
switch.”
“I apologize, too, sweetie.” Rafe winked. “Even though I believe Mal was a bigger
ass than me.” When Leah snorted, he rubbed a palm down her arm, a silent apology added
to his spoken one. “So what brought you by here, anyway?”
“Evelyn came up in a case I’m investigating. Richard Pierce’s disappearance.”
The announcement plummeted into their midst like a huge stone into a still pool. Leah
may not have noticed the ripple effects of her declaration, but Gabriel immediately
saw the anxiety tightening the corners of Mal’s mouth and the stiffening of Rafe’s
shoulders.
“Your uncle?” Rafe asked, no trace of his customary amusement evident
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