Justice for Sara by Erica Spindler Page B

one sat directly next to the Liberty P.D., which could come in handy, considering how many people in this town hated her guts.
    Plus, she’d probably run into Luke daily. She’d found him popping into her thoughts here and there, enough that she had begun to notice. And to worry about it.
    Getting involved with the son of Chief Stephen Tanner, the man who, more than any other, had wanted to see her fry, was an impossible idea.
    “Hey, Kat.”
    Think of the handsome devil, and up he jumps. She turned. Luke strolled toward her.
    “What’re you doing down here?”
    “Looking for commercial space. I’m opening up a bread store and bakery.”
    “I’d heard that.” He slipped his hands into his pockets. “I’m awfully fond of cookies.”
    Charming. Dammit. She laughed. “I warn you, my cookies would be good for you.”
    “But tasty?”
    “Very.”
    Tish cleared her throat, then stuck out her hand. “Tish Alexander. Front Door Realty.”
    She had forgotten the other woman was standing beside her. Heat stung Kat’s cheeks. “I’m sorry, I assumed you two knew each other.”
    “Nope.” He shook her hand. “Sergeant Luke Tanner. Great to meet you.”
    “Likewise.” His cell phone sounded and Tish turned back to her. “I’ll get that information you wanted. Call me if you think of anything else.”
    “I will, Tish. Thanks.”
    Luke was still on his call; he signaled her to wait. Kat studied him while he talked. Dark hair and eyes, wicked smile, he reminded her of Hugh Jackman without the stubble. She remembered being in junior high and seeing him, around six feet tall, with a lean, muscular build, and his jock friends throwing the football on the square, and being awestruck. They’d been like rock stars to her.
    Today he wore jeans, a chambray shirt and a rather battered sports coat. A much more casual approach to dress than his father’d had. She’d never seen Stephen Tanner in anything but his uniform.
    Luke ended the call and smiled at her. “Sorry about that.”
    “No problem. What’s up?”
    “If you have a minute, there’re a couple questions I wanted to ask you.”
    She said she did and he led her into the station. For a split second, she couldn’t breathe. It all came crashing back, the shock and disbelief, the fear and nightmarish reality of it.
    She wanted to turn and run. Leave this place—and Liberty—far behind.
    He touched her arm, snapping her back to the moment. “You all right?”
    “Am I that obvious?”
    “Sorry.”
    She forced a laugh and felt better for it. “First time back, that’s all.”
    “First is the worst.”
    “You’re a poet and don’t know it.”
    He laughed and she realized he had chased the ghosts away. A moment later they faced each other across his desk. “I’m surprised your dad lets you get away with dressing like that.”
    He looked down at himself. “Pops? Yeah, he’s a bit of a uniform nazi. But there’s not much he can do about it. I’m acting chief, and the city bylaws don’t require the chief to dress out.” He grinned. “It drives him crazy.”
    “Why do I suspect that’s part of the reason you do it?”
    “Not at all. I’m over the whole rebellion thing. Long time ago.”
    The twinkle in his eyes told her otherwise. She laughed. “Right. I see that.”
    A framed photo of a young boy holding up a big fish caught her eye. She picked it up. “Is this you? Cute.”
    “Nope. My brother. Stevie.”
    “Stevie?” She frowned. “I don’t remember you having a sib.”
    “He was a year older than me. He drowned. The summer of ’92.”
    She set the photo down. “I’m sorry.”
    “Stuff happens.” He changed the subject. “So, you think Liberty’s ready for a healthy bakery?”
    “You sound like Lilith. And yes, I do.”
    He cocked his head. “If I asked you out, would you say yes?”
    Her pulse fluttered. “Are you? Asking me out?”
    “Thinking about it.”
    “Don’t burn any brain cells over it. I’d say no.”
    “Have