Line of Fire

Now he was dead. Oh God—had someone called his kids?

“Contrary to popular belief, Kay, George Yube will be missed,” Faith muttered.

“By you?”

Faith shrugged, then realized that if she didn’t change the subject soon, she’d have nightmares for weeks. “I hardly knew the man, but murder is a horrible crime, no matter who the victim is. Look, I had to give a statement to the police and I think they’ll let me go now. Please tell me Lu made her guava cake for tonight’s luau.”

Kalani’s tanned face brightened with her wide, toothy smile. “You kidding? If Mama doesn’t make her guava cake every night, we lose business. I promised I’d call her as soon as I found you and made sure you were okay.” She glanced around and spotted a bank of phones by the security station. “I’ll be right over there.”

Faith nodded, then looked around for Adam. He wasn’t hard to find, when likely he should have been. With the exception of the SWAT team, every other male in the place was wearing a suit or a police uniform. Since more than half of the men in the lobby were cops, the majority of the guys milling around were also tall and well-built. Still, Faith’s gaze zeroed in on Adam as if she’d developed handsome-hunk radar in her irises. Or maybe she’d formed a connection to the chief of detectives that she wasn’t yet ready to acknowledge.

When she started toward him, he waved, but continued to issue orders to the man standing beside him.

“Tim, check in with Sam Prophet immediately. I want to know about the incendiary device in the stairwell. Anything he’s got.”

The detective made a note in a PDA. “He promises an initial report by morning. His first guess was that it was a small explosive, remote controlled, specifically placed to start a very smoky fire.”

Adam swore mildly, but enough for Faith to catch his intensity. She already knew he took his cases personally, but seeing him in action added a layer of understanding she wasn’t sure she wanted to possess.

“There goes the random-shooting theory,” Adam said. “I also need the visitor list from courthouse Security before you leave. Call me on the cell when you’ve got it. And contact Ms. Lawton’s assistant. She had a collection of threats Faith and Yube received. They kept records—for a brief time, anyway—and I want them. I’ll handle everything else.”

Tim glanced over his shoulder at Faith and frowned.

“You sure, boss? I mean, taking the choice assignments for yourself could hurt department morale.”

Despite Tim’s obviously teasing tone, Adam’s jaw twitched, and Faith could almost feel a wave of cold emanating from his frosty response. Apparently, Adam Guthrie had his limits.

Through clenched teeth, he said, “I’ll buy pizza for everyone on Friday. Will that do?”

Tim grinned, gave Faith a polite salute and then left.

Adam crossed over to her and, with a soft chuckle, banished any seriousness from his face.

“So, you ready to get out of here?”

Faith sighed. “You’re kidding, right? I’ve been ready for hours. What about my briefcase and purse? They’re still outside.”

“I have a uniform standing by. As soon as Forensics releases the scene, he’ll bring your things directly to your home. I’ve already ordered someone to check out your car, just in case.”

Faith was suddenly very glad Kalani had come to the courthouse. Without her keys and driver’s license, she wouldn’t have any way home or, even if someone gave her a ride, any way to get into her house. Kalani had an extra set of keys on her key ring.

“Do you need me to come by the precinct tomorrow and sign my statement?” she asked.

“We can decide in the morning.”

He gestured toward the glass doors. The sun had set, and television camera lights glared on the other side. She groaned. The last thing she wanted was her sorry-looking image broadcast on the eleven-o’clock news. She patted her hair, looked down helplessly at her grubby hands and filthy suit.

Then his words hit her.

“What do you mean, we? ”

Adam increased his pace, seemingly ignoring the fact that she’d stopped walking.

“I’m going home with you, Ms. Lawton. And I’m staying the night.”

CHAPTER FOUR

F AITH GROANED ALOUD . “Is this the part where I’m supposed to protest madly?”

“Excuse me?”

“You know, where I insist that I can take care of myself, that I don’t need protection and I certainly don’t need a sexy guy in my house acting the bodyguard. That’s how it works in the movies.”

If Faith had meant her cinematic scenario to unnerve him, her plan had worked. He was trying to get past the “sexy guy” part when a pretty woman, obviously Hawaiian heritage, joined them.

“So who’s this hottie?” she asked.

Faith coughed to cover a giggle. Adam nearly blushed.

“Kalani Apalo, meet Detective Adam Guthrie. Detective, this is my sister, Kay.”

Kalani’s grin was nothing short of predatory. Adam ignored his sudden need to loosen his tie and instead shook her proffered hand. “Nice to meet you, Ms. Apalo.”

“Call me Kay. Unless you want to call me ‘sweet thing.’ We could work that out, you know?”

From the corner of his eye, Adam watched Faith cover her mouth with her hand. Yeah, this was hilarious. Not that Kalani Apalo wasn’t a stunning, voluptuous woman—she was. But suddenly, Adam, who’d never had much of a preference for female “types” before, realized he had more of a hankering for a sharp attorney who wore puka beads with her business suits.

If Kalani was her sister, that at least explained why she preferred tropical jewelry to conservative pearls.

“Your offer is tempting, Ms. Apalo, but I’m afraid my interests this evening are focused on your sister.”

Faith turned toward him slowly, her gaze curious, but cautious. He could play this bowl-over-with-brashness game as well as she could—probably better.

Kalani nodded approvingly. “Hot damn, sis. You survive a shooting and catch yourself a man, both at the same time. Didn’t know you had it in you.”

Faith smirked at her sister. “First of all, the shooter wasn’t aiming at me. Second, I doubt Detective Guthrie’s interests extend beyond the professional. Third, he’s just teasing about coming home with me.”

Adam jammed his hands into his pockets. “You’re so wrong, Counselor, I don’t know where to start.”

She crossed her arms. Adam hadn’t forgotten the feel of those soft breasts crushed to his chest when they were outside against the brick wall. The moment had been too fraught with danger to acknowledge at the time, but now his flesh fairly tingled with the warm memory.

“Excuse me?”

“First,” he said, mimicking her tone, “you don’t know that you weren’t in danger or that you still aren’t. The assassination attempt might not have been aimed only at Yube.”

Faith shook her head. “How do you know that Yube was the target at all? I’m not saying that isn’t a logical assumption under the circumstances, but face it, Detective, you have no proof. The sniper might have been after random targets and George Yube was in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

Adam groaned, wondering how he had ever thought assigning protection to her would be easy, particularly when he intended to pick up the detail himself, at least until tomorrow morning.