Page 5 of Protect My Heart

“No worries. You know her name? If not, I can scan social media for hashtags about the shooting.” Ryan’s fingers flew over the keyboard, his eyes glued to the screen. “This her?”

Jim leaned over Daniels’ shoulder. “That’s her. She’s the same girl I chased out of a crime scene last month.”

“Damn, this girl’s boyfriend must be in heaven. The chicks I date never send me pics like these.”

“Get out of her Instagram. Don’t want her accusing the Ashwood Police Department of inappropriate conduct because you’re a horndog, checking out nude photos of a young female.”

Officer Amy Larson paused as she passed Daniels’ desk. Leaning over his shoulder, she whistled. “Oh, she has clothes on, if you can call that floss and ribbon clothing.”

Ryan glanced at Larson with her blonde bun tight at her neck and her boxy uniform. “You know, she may be hot but she’s not a real woman like you.”

Before Jim could slap down Ryan for his inappropriate comment, Amy let out a full-bodied laugh.

“Don’t you forget it either.” She ran her hand over the curve of her hip and sashayed away.

“You better watch yourself, Daniels. She could slap a harassment suit on you.” Jim turned back to his own computer and started compiling the data from the scene.

“Give me some credit. I’m not a freakin’ pedo or a perv. It’s just Larson. We always mess around like that.” Ryan shook his head. “When did you become so uptight? And if this girl isn’t twenty-one, you wouldn’t know it by the photo.”

The other officer was right. When had Jim become so uptight? He knew the banter between Ryan and Amy was just that…banter. Hell, he could dish some crap as well as take it. But since CJ had trusted him to take the lead on cases, Jim felt he needed to grow up a little. It didn’t help that his twin brother, Jordan, already made lieutenant.

Ryan closed the browser window. “All done. I sent you a file with the vid from her social sites. Check your email.”

Before Jim could reply, Ryan rose, grabbed his keys, and started for the door.

“Ryan.” Jim said.

The officer turned.

“Have a good night.”

Ryan nodded and left the station.

“What’s wrong with me?” Jim pinched the bridge of his nose.

Ryan’s a standup guy with a good sense of humor, but Jim couldn’t say why the comments bothered him tonight. The amateur reporter was young but not that young, and he normally would have snuck a peek at the photos himself. Damn, he must be tired. He looked at the time on his computer. One fourteen.

His partner walked in as Jim pulled up the email from Ryan. It was damn smart of him to save it. He never knew where a piece of evidence would come from.

CJ shook off his coat as he walked into the station.

“How’s the little guy?”

“Better. He has an ear infection but thanks to meds his fever is down.” CJ dropped his keys on the desk next to Jim and continued to walk across the room. “Coffee?”

Might as well, it was going to be an all-nighter. “Sure, I haven’t tested my stomach lining in at least two hours.”

Chapter 3

“Morning, Titi.” Liz shuffled across the thick Persian rug to the sideboard to help herself to coffee. Liz studied the oil painting of Grandpa and Grandma Whittier that hung over the buffet.

Joy Whittier beamed at the use of the endearment. She insisted on the nickname the day she found out Liz’s mother would be marrying into the family. Sitting at the mahogany dining table, Joy’s sable hair gleamed in the sleeked back tight chignon, the perfect complement to her Anne Klein pants suit. “Morning, Sleepyhead. Nice to see you grace us with your presence before noon.”

“If you wanted me up at the crack of dawn you shouldn’t have put such comfortable beds in the guest room.” Her lip hitched up in the corner.

Joy tsked.

It was after midnight when Liz got back to her aunt and uncle’s house, a gorgeous Tudor with a lake view. Liz spent many days in the elegant home growing up even before her mother married into the family. She’d played under the massive wood table or read in the beautiful garden while her mother, then the house cleaner, dusted the furniture. A warm sensation wrapped her in comfort every time she stepped through the front door.