Kiss Me If You Can by Carly Phillips Page A

the key in the lock when he realized his door was ajar. The lock had been jimmied, deep gouge marks on either side of the handle.
    Coop muttered a curse. He lived in a relatively safe neighborhood but, hell, this wasn’t a doorman building and there was no security to be found.Silence and gut instinct told him that whoever had broken in was already gone. He kicked the door open and walked in slowly. Just in case. A quick look around confirmed his fear. Someone had broken in and tossed the place, leaving no couch cushion or piece of paper unturned.
    For the second time in less than a week, Coop found himself on the other end of his own crime beat. He called 9-1-1 from his cell, hoping maybe something in this apartment held a clue to who’d broken in and why.
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    F OR THE NEXT FEW HOURS , New York’s finest did their thing, dusting for prints, looking for evidence and taking his statement.
    Coop had pulled out two bottles of Coke from the fridge and offered one to Sara Rios, the female officer on duty who just happened to be his neighbor and good friend.
    Sara was pretty, with long blonde hair, big eyes and a good heart. In uniform she was a kick-ass cop. As a friend, she shared his taste in books and movies.
    â€œAt a glance, is anything missing?” she asked.
    Coop bit the inside of his cheek. “Other than my laptop?” It had been the first thing he’d checked for and the only thing that seemed to be gone. “Everything else is here. Television, iPod, even my camera is still sitting where I left it.”
    â€œI’m sorry, Coop. But I did tell you to install better locks.”
    â€œThanks for not saying I told you so,” he muttered.
    â€œYou think it’s work-related?”
    He shook his head. Although work was the obvious reason someone would snag his computer, it didn’t add up. “There’s no current case I’m working on that’s anything out of the ordinary. It’s not like Son of Sam is sending me letters or anything.”
    She perched a hip on the arm of his sofa. “I hate to ask, but could it be a female stalker? One of your Bachelor Blog groupies?” She unsuccessfully tried to hide her smirk behind a notepad.
    â€œWiseass. The women in this city are desperate, that’s for sure.” He told her about the scented notes and panties he’d dumped in the trash earlier. “But if it was one of them, wouldn’t I have found her waiting in my bed, not stealing my laptop?”
    â€œYou’ve got a point. We won’t know anything more until we run some tests. The guys seem to be finishing up,” she said, pointing to the forensic team, packing up. “If you realize something else is missing, call me. You know the drill. Sometimes it’s the little information you don’t think is important that can break a case.”
    He nodded. “I think I can handle it.” He covered this crap on a daily basis.
    â€œNow who’s the wiseass?” she asked, treating him to a grin.
    â€œI don’t suppose we can keep this quiet? The last thing I need is more publicity.”
    She shook her head. “You know better. If your paper doesn’t cover it, another one will. At this point you’re the closest thing to a celebrity this city’s got. Until another big thing comes along, the Bachelor Blog is the news.” She slapped him on the shoulder, commiserating but not helping him in the least.
    â€œWhat about the robbery you foiled?” Sara asked.
    â€œYou know as well as I do, that’s an open-and-shut case. The guy couldn’t make bail, so he’s still sitting in lockup.”
    Sara glanced at her partner who was gesturing toward the door. “I’ll check in when I get off duty in the morning. Call if you remember anything else.”
    He nodded. “Thanks, neighbor.”
    After the cops took off, Coop righted the sofa and table, ignoring the rest of the mess for now. He