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The Sharpest Edge

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Год написания книги
2018
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“You will.” He beamed at her and Kim felt her gut sink. How could she save the camp?

SEAN HAD HIS BOOTS up on the desk and his eyes closed when the door banged open, jerking him awake.

Chief Bill Vega knocked Sean’s feet off the desk and they thudded on the floor. “It’s almost eleven in the morning. What are you still doing here?”

“Waiting for an e-mail.” Sean stretched and glanced over at his empty in-box. He was waiting for the police report on Jimmy Ramsey’s attacks on Kim and Cheryl. And he had a call in to Jimmy’s parole officer to check on his whereabouts.

“How was last night?” Bill casually poured himself a mug of cold coffee. “Any interesting calls?”

Sean eyed the man who’d given him his start in law enforcement so many years ago. “No.”

“How’s she doing?”

“Who?”

“Kim Collins, that’s who.” Bill sat down on the edge of Sean’s desk. “I heard she’s looking fine.”

“Screw you.” He shot Bill a hostile glare, but he laughed and didn’t budge. The man obviously didn’t give a rip that his question made Sean recall how Kim looked last night. How she’d felt when he’d held her for that one moment. It had felt like coming home. It had been right, so absolutely perfect. And then he’d remembered that everything about her was wrong. Everything about them was wrong.

Unfortunately, recalling that fact hadn’t made her look any less appealing in her oversize T-shirt and sweats. Her casual outfit reminded him of the innocent teenager he’d loved. Last night, she’d looked so young and vulnerable he’d wanted to sweep her up in his arms and take her home to protect her. Except she wasn’t innocent, and she’d made it damned clear what she thought of being in his arms when she’d left ten years ago.

“Did she throw herself at you?” Bill grinned. “Let me guess. It was a trumped-up phone call to get you over there, wasn’t it? No sign of a prowler. Did she have you check her bedroom?”

“Don’t you have work to do?”

“Nope. That’s why I hired you, so I don’t have to work.”

It was weird to have someone teasing him. Sean didn’t joke anymore. Hadn’t for a long time. He wasn’t interested in striking up a friendship with Bill or anyone else. “Well, I have work to do.”

“You’re off duty and you’ve been here for a month. What could you possibly have to do?”

“Stuff.” Not that it should surprise him that Bill was giving him a hard time. After all, they’d been friends when he worked here before, even though Bill was about five years older than Sean. Back then, Sean had called him Billy and talked about things that mattered. Bill hadn’t respected his privacy back then and apparently, he still didn’t. Difference was, now Sean didn’t want that kind of relationship. Watching your best friend die could have that effect on a man.

Bill nodded. “Yeah, stuff like finding a place to live. You still living at the motel?”

“No.” Just yesterday, he’d finally rented a cottage. He’d stayed at the hotel his first four weeks to avoid obligations in case he decided he couldn’t deal with being back in town. But it hadn’t been so bad, and he’d spent some time with Kim’s dad and his new family. Yeah, it wasn’t the same as it had been, but his bond with Max was still there. Once Max had had the accident, that had sealed it for Sean. He’d stay around for as long as the man might need him—and maybe longer. For the first time in ten years, he felt as though he might find a place for himself again. With Max, he had hope for the first time in a long time.

And then Kim had shown up and changed everything. It made him want to pack up and leave, the way he’d done before. But he wasn’t going to. This was his town, and he’d come back to claim it. All he had to do was stay away from her while she was around. Especially since all he wanted to do was haul his sorry behind right back over to her house and strip away the past ten years to find out what had happened that night.

But he had too much pride for that.

“Glad to hear you’ve finally decided to stay awhile.” Bill grinned. “So? Did she get a boob job while she was living in L.A.? I hear that all the chicks out there have boob jobs.”

“For God’s sake, Billy, back off.” He picked up a pencil and drummed it on the desk.

Bill lifted an eyebrow. “So there are still some feelings there, huh?”

“No.” He tapped the pencil harder. Faster.

“Liar.” Bill dropped into a nearby chair and pulled it closer. Tossed his hat on a desk and ran his hands through his spiky red hair. “Listen, sorry about sending you over there last night. I didn’t realize it would mess you up. I mean, it’s been ten years and all. Kinda figured you might be over it by now.”

Sean snapped the pencil between his thumb and index finger. He let it drop to the ground, then gave Bill his most hostile glare. “I don’t give a rip about her anymore, so drop it.”

Bill stared back for a long moment. “What happened to you in the Army, man? You’ve turned into a major SOB.”

It wasn’t what had happened to him in the military. It had started in this town, at the merciless hands of Kim Collins when she’d ripped away the innocence of a young kid. “Kim might have a stalker.”

“You?”

“Shut up.”

Bill grinned. “Just checking. What’s up?”

“Cheryl’s ex-husband, Jimmy Ramsey. Wife beater that Kim put in jail. He’s out on parole and he swore he’d come after her.” Just saying it made his blood pressure escalate again.

“What do you have so far?” Bill settled into his cop persona, so much easier for Sean to take. He’d counted on their friendship to get him the job, and now he was regretting it. Friends demanded more than he was willing to give.

“I have a call in to his PO to see if he’s checked in.” The message from Kim on his phone that morning had aggravated him. She’d been so flippant and dismissive that Jimmy was after her, telling Sean to drop the case.

Not that he had any intention of listening to her. He was a cop, and his job was to protect and serve, even if the civilian in question happened to be the woman who had left him standing at the altar with two gold rings in his tux pocket. Yeah, sure he hadn’t been able to turn up any evidence of a prowler outside her home, but when he’d stood there in the dark, he’d been certain something had been disturbed. The night sounds of the forest had been too quiet. Until he was convinced no one was after her, he wasn’t going to back off.

“What about Cheryl? You talk to her?”

“She’s in hiding.”

Billy gave a low whistle. “It’s serious stuff then, huh?”

“Kim helped her disappear and took the heat after Cheryl left.” Impressive as hell that Kim had stuck around and faced Jimmy when she knew what he was capable of.

Billy grinned. “That’s our Kimmy. She always protected that little sister of hers.”

Sean tossed the thin file he’d created at Billy. “You take the case.”

Billy handed the folder back. “It’s yours.”

“I don’t want it.” He set the papers on the desk. “Find someone else.”

“We’re understaffed, even with you here. With all these summer folk causing trouble, no one’s got time to be following up on some psycho from California.”

Sean folded his arms. “I’ll switch duties with someone. I don’t want it.” Just because he couldn’t drop the case didn’t mean he was the one who had to be her shadow. Already tried that ten years ago and it wasn’t his gig. Not anymore.

“I got a bunch of rookies on staff here. All our experienced guys went off to Portland when they got the funding for more positions. Not one of these guys knows how to do an investigation. All they can do is write up traffic tickets and OUIs. That’s why I wanted you back. I need some hardened badass for these boys to follow.”

“This case is a good opportunity for someone to learn.” He didn’t want to get involved with Kim. But putting Kim’s life in the hands of a rookie? “You can provide oversight. Train the kid.” His computer beeped that he had new mail and Sean nodded at it, even as he stood up and walked away from his desk. “That’s the info from L.A. It’s yours.”

Bill swung to his feet and lumbered his large frame across the small office that looked as if it hadn’t had a face-lift in thirty years. Stained ceiling tiles, warped wood paneling on the walls, battered desks shoved against one another to make room in a too-small space.

Luxury compared to Sean’s life in the Middle East, where he’d been for the past few years.
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