"There's a bottle in the bathroom medicine cabinet," she replied.
He started toward the bathroom.
Erin breathed a sigh of relief at his departure-even if it was only for a minute. She felt unsettled. Jittery. She tried to blame it on the fact that she was still shaken up from the incident at the school, but she knew that wasn't the only reason. She didn't want to admit the possibility that Nick was the source of her uneasiness. If she acknowledged the problem, it would become real, and she would have to deal with it.
Being attracted to her boss was a mistake she had no intention of making. Especially when he was the kind of man who couldn't handle the idea of a woman with a dangerous career-like police work.
Warren Prentice had taught her all she ever needed to know about the overprotective-male syndrome. After the way Nick had reacted to her taking down those two suspects, it appeared he had a terminal case. She refused to give up her career for the likes of a man or the fallacy of happily ever after. Erin McNeal simply knew better.
"Here you go."
She jumped at the sound of Nick's voice and turned to find him standing behind her with two aspirin in one hand, a glass of water in the other. She drew a breath, caught the scent of his aftershave and felt an instant of vertigo she knew had nothing to do with the bump on her head. Good heavens, standing next to this man was like riding a tidal wave.
Shaking off the sensation, she reached for the aspirin and tossed them back. His fingers brushed hers when she took the glass of water. "Thanks."
"Why don't you sit down?"
"Actually, I was thinking of taking a nap as soon as you take off."
Amusement played in his eyes. "Trying to get rid of me?"
"Letting you off the hook, actually."
One side of his mouth curved. "I appreciate that. But to be perfectly honest with you, I'd like to ask you a few more questions before I make my big escape. If you're feeling up to it, that is."
Something in the way he said it caught her cop's attention, reminding her that a serious crime had been committed, and she was right in the center of it. Common ground at last. No longer feeling quite as awkward, she sank down on the sofa. "Shoot."
Nick took the chair across from her. "Felony assault with a motor vehicle isn't the kind of crime typical to Logan Falls." Leaning forward, he put his elbows on his knees and gave her a canny look. "What's your take on this?"
"An impatient driver. Road rage." She shrugged. "Maybe he was drunk."
"He? The driver was male?"
"I think so. I only saw a silhouette, but it didn't look female."
"You mentioned a passenger earlier. Are you sure?"
She nodded. "I'm sure."
"We don't get much road rage here in Logan Falls." Nick grimaced. "I talked to several witnesses at the scene. Every one of them said it seemed deliberate. Do you agree?"
"Maybe. I don't know. It happened pretty fast."
"Is there any reason why someone might want to hurt you?"
The question made the hairs at her nape stand on end. "What are you getting at?"
Leaning back in the chair, he gazed steadily at her. "You were a cop for nine years. Cops make enemies. Some criminals have long memories."
Erin knew the possibility was there-she'd busted plenty of thugs over the years, and made plenty of enemies back in Chicago. She couldn't rule out the possibility, but she didn't believe it, either. "The thought of some thug bent on revenge following me all the way to Logan Falls just to run me down at a school crosswalk-and miss-seems unlikely, Nick."
"Probably. Still, it's something we have to consider. From now on I want you to be aware of what's going on around you at all times-"
"I'm always aware of my surroundings," she interrupted. "I'm a cop, remember?"
"You're not invincible. You know better than to not take this seriously."
"I'll take it seriously. But I still think you're overreacting."
"Just covering all my bases."
"Contrary to what you might think of me, I know how to take care of myself."
"That's why you've got a knot the size of Texas on your head."
Irritated that he was undermining her efforts to convince him that she could handle herself, Erin rose abruptly. A curse escaped her when the throbbing pain in her head sent her back down. "Ouch. This is annoying."
Nick was by her side instantly. His hand hovered over her shoulder, but he didn't touch her. "I should have told the doc to keep you," he growled, dropping his hands to his sides.
"Just a headache," she said. "As long as I don't start speaking in tongues or tell you I've been picked up by space aliens, I should be okay. Think you could fish another aspirin out of that bottle?"
Frowning, he picked up the bottle, tapped an aspirin into his palm and passed it to her. "If the headache isn't gone in twenty minutes, I'm taking you back to the hospital."
"Like that's going to happen." Erin took the aspirin and drank half the water. In her peripheral vision she saw Nick head toward the hall. Relieved, she set the water on the coffee table, leaned against the sofa back and closed her eyes.
"Okay, McNeal, I want you on your back."
She opened one eye to see him lugging her pillow, and comforter from her bedroom. "You're kidding, right?"
He looked down at the comforter in his arms. "Do I look like I'm kidding?" He set the pillow against the sofa arm. "Lie down."
"But-"
"That's an order."
Rolling her eyes to hide her discomfiture, she eased the robe from her shoulders. "Do you do this for all your deputies, Chief?"
"Only the ones who take on a ton of steel moving at forty miles an hour."
Easing the robe out from under her, she leaned back into the pillow, realizing just how badly she needed to lie down. "You know, Chief, you wouldn't make a bad nurse."
"Don't push your luck." Taking her robe, he draped the comforter over her. "You were damn lucky today. This could have turned out-" Nick froze, his eyes narrowing on her exposed right shoulder.
Erin realized her mistake an instant too late.
The scar.
Oh, God. He'd seen the scar.
Chapter 5
The sight of the scar froze him in place. It started on the outside edge of her shoulder and ran in a jagged line toward her collarbone. Not the work of a surgeon, but the violent action of a bullet and an emergency room doctor's frantic efforts to stop serious bleeding, he imagined.
Nick saw her stiffen, realizing belatedly he'd been staring. She jerked the comforter up to her chin, gripping the edge tightly. What was the matter with him? She was obviously self-conscious about the scar. He was only making things worse by sticking around and prolonging this. But he couldn't take back what he'd seen. As a fellow cop-and her superior-he damn well couldn't refrain from asking her about it.
He raised his gaze to hers, seeing far too clearly what she was feeling. "That's not the first time I've seen a scar from a bullet would, McNeal."
"It's the first time you've seen mine." She looked away, no longer the tough-talking cop with a war story, but a woman faced with a disfiguring scar. "It's ugly."
The contrast between woman and cop struck him. As he watched the emotions scroll across her features, a fierce protectiveness rose up inside him. He couldn't let her statement stand, he realized. Even if the scar was bad, he wanted her to know it didn't detract from her in any way. Not as a cop. Certainly not as a woman. "It's nothing to be ashamed of," he said gently.
"How do you know?" she snapped.
The ice in her voice surprised him. Nick pulled in a breath, realizing for the first time the depth of her emotional wounds-and how little he knew about that night.
"You want to tell me what you mean by that?" he asked. A dry smile curved her mouth. "Are you asking as my superior who needs to gauge my frame of mind, or as a friend, Nick?"
"How about a little of both?"
Sighing, she pulled one of the throw pillows against her and frowned at him. "I got hit the same night Danny Perrine was shot. Bullets do a hell of a number on flesh. End of story."