It wasn’t as if she’d just met him, but still, she certainly didn’t know him.
Still, she found him attractive. Too attractive, especially because he could sure as hell be an overbearing jerk. Not to mention that she was in the academy and he was a detective. It was the stupidest thing she’d ever thought of in her life.
But then, it didn’t really have a lot to do with thought. She had sat next to him in a car, and her palms had gone damp. Not because he was a detective. Because he’d been next to her.
She’d seen him just standing on his boat.
And…
Okay, he was physically appealing. And she’d been leading a dull life, work, study, work, study, and…he had the right parts, put together quite well, with a voice…
She groaned. It was getting late. The alarm would ring well before six, and every class was very important. There was a lot she had to prove—to herself, and to others, she suddenly realized.
She lay on her bed, oddly aware that a man who both infuriated and tempted her was just yards away.
The Twilight Zone, Nick at Nite, AMC. She needed to watch something entertaining that would capture her mind and then let her sleep.
She started flicking through the channels. Cooking…no. Alligators in the swamp…not tonight. She went through more of the premium cable stations.
She stopped, her eyes widening.
She wasn’t certain when they had started putting soft porn that graphic on television. She could feel the heat in her cheeks, even though she was sitting there alone.
That wouldn’t help at all. She quickly switched the channel.
A rerun of I Love Lucy turned up. Much safer. Ashley slammed her pillow, determined that she was going to relax and go to sleep.
Eventually, she did.
Jake didn’t always lock the door to the cabin of the Gwendolyn, but he could have sworn he had tonight. But when he’d automatically set the key in the lock, the knob had twisted before the key had been turned.
He held still for a minute, listening, but there were no sounds other than the lapping of the water against the boat and the distant, blended noises of the bar. He held very still, drew his gun, and flattened himself against the exterior of the cabin as he threw the door open.
Again…nothing.
He entered slowly and carefully. The living room, galley, dining area…all empty. He went aft and down, checking the small head, the closets, every crawl space. He traveled back through the main rooms and went into the master cabin, going through the same routine. Nothing.
Nothing…but a feeling. Someone had been there.
Puzzled, he paused at his desk. Small, compact, neat. There was just space on top for his laptop and a small printer, and the desk itself offered drawers where he stowed files on the cases he was working on. He opened the drawers; everything seemed to be in place. The computer was off, as he had left it.
Nothing appeared to be out of order….
Just slightly…different.
Feeling a sense of invasion that couldn’t be pinpointed, he assured himself that the door was locked—double bolted. In his cabin, he stripped down to a pair of cutoffs and sat at his computer for a moment, drawing up the old files he had been obsessively rereading. Then he hesitated, feeling that his computer had been invaded, as well. Yet nothing was different.
He went out and stood on deck, searching along the dock and the rows of boats. No one seemed to be stirring. There were still lights on at Nick’s.
Though barefoot and bare-chested, he sprang to the dock and walked the short distance to the bar. The door remained open, though the Closed sign had been set out. Entering, he found Nick behind the bar, wiping down the old polished wood. Just a few customers remained at the tables, drinking coffee. Nick had a cut-off policy where liquor was concerned; he didn’t intend to be responsible for drunk drivers. An old John Denver song finished playing on the jukebox as Jake approached Nick.
“Jake, hey. What can I do for you?” Nick asked, surprised to see him. He frowned and teased, “Shirts and shoes required, you know. Florida law.”
“Yeah, sorry,” Jake said. “Nick, I needed to ask you…that key I asked you to keep—did you use it tonight for any reason?”
Nick shook his head. “No, it was busy here tonight. I never left.”
“This is awkward, but…are you sure you keep it in a safe place?”
“Hell, yes.”
“It’s not here, accessible to anyone in the bar?”
Nick glanced across the room. “Hey, y’all!” he called to the remaining customers. “Thanks for coming, but it’s time for you to head out.”
Jake waited while Nick showed the customers out. When the door was closed and locked, Nick said, “Come on in the house. I’ll make sure the key is exactly where I left it.”
Nick led the way behind the bar, through the office and into the living room. Dim night-lights cast the room in soft shadow.
“Was something wrong at the boat?” Nick asked.