Tucking away her smartphone, she quickly climbed one of the trellises that reached from the ground floor all the way to the roof, and hopped onto the black slate roof, from where she started making her way to the window. Her tongue sticking out, she was just wondering what she’d say if anyone caught her breaking and entering, when a familiar voice sounded behind her.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing up there, Miss Poole?”
She looked down, and saw she’d been joined by none other than Detective Kingsley. He was staring up at her, his expression implacable.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, annoyed. “And how is it that wherever I go, I bump into you? Are you following me, Detective Kingsley?”
“I asked you first,” he said. “Why do you insist on sticking your nose into my investigation? Interviewing my witnesses? Disturbing my crime scene?”
“It’s called journalism, Detective,” she said. “It’s what reporters do.”
“This is a crime scene,” he repeated, that same set look on his features she’d seen every time they’d met. “You can’t go traipsing all over this place.”
“Well, you’re doing it,” she challenged, “so I don’t see why I can’t.”
“I’m the cop in charge of this investigation,” he pointed out. “So I’ll ask you again: what are you doing up there, Miss Poole?”
“I, um…” She’d started making her way down from the roof. She now saw she should have worn jeans that morning, and not this silly little dress. She had the impression that Chase could see her pink undies from where he was standing, and that was the absolute last thing she needed right now. “I just wanted to find an original angle on the place where the body was found.” She gestured at the outhouse. “I figured I’d have a great shot from up here.”
But as she was descending the roof, her foot slipped on a slick patch, and she suddenly was hurtling down a lot quicker than she’d anticipated. She cried out when she reached the roof’s edge and scrambled for support. Her fingers caught a clump of wet leaves and she lost purchase and tumbled over the edge, on a collision course with the unyielding ground below.
Just as she braced for impact, however, she was snatched in midair by two strong arms that caught her just in time. And she suddenly found herself in such close proximity with the hardened cop that she felt like a little bird falling from the nest and being caught by some creature of the wild.
She was at Chase’s mercy now, and could feel her heart beating wildly against her breastbone, Chase’s face so close she could see tiny flecks of green in his icy blue eyes, and the slight stubble that dusted his cheeks. His arms were strong and powerful, as was his chest, and for a moment she had the distinct impression that his full lips would take hers and devour her.
But as quickly as he’d caught her, he released her again, by returning her to perpendicularity, setting her down so gently she surprised herself by heaving out a soft sigh. He then pointed at the green smudges on her dress.
“You’ll have to get that dry-cleaned,” he grumbled, giving her a hard look.
She was still panting slightly, her heart racing, and she knew it wasn’t from the drop but from being in such close proximity with Chase’s hard chest. She hadn’t been this close to a man for a while, her last boyfriend having fled Hampton Cove over a year ago, when he’d been caught embezzling funds from the local bank. Sam had been a teller and had both swindled the bank out of a nice sum of money and her out of her illusions.
He’d been a nice young man, and she’d even brought him home to meet her parents and grandmother for dinner. He’d been nothing like Chase Kingsley, who, she now realized, was an actual man, while Sam was a boy.
“I, um, thank you,” she finally managed. His hands were still expertly removing a few leaves from her person, and the memory of his hard body so close to hers sent a steady stream of thrills up her spine and made her knees tremble. She licked her lips, trying to stem the tide of emotions that suddenly flooded her. How was it possible that a man she hardly knew could have such a powerful effect on her? She didn’t know and she didn’t care. All she knew was that Chase was a very dangerous man, and she better put some distance between herself and this overbearing cop, or else she might be the next one to fall victim to his treacherous ways. Her lips tightened and her face hardened when she stepped back. “Thank you for saving my life, Detective Kingsley.”
“I don’t think I saved your life, Miss Poole,” he said, also straightening, “but you’re welcome. And now I think it’s time for you to head back into town.”
Anger flared inside her. Who did he think he was ordering her around like this? Maybe it was time she put him in his place. “I’m actually doing a story on you as well, Detective. A story my readers will find fascinating.”
“Is that right?” he asked, eyeing her a little wearily.
“Oh, yes. Lots of rumors have been swirling around about you, and I think it’s important to separate fact from fiction. Set the record straight.”
“As a matter of fact, that’s exactly what I think, too,” he admitted.
“So… would you like to comment on your dismissal from the NYPD?”
Instantly, his face hardened. “You know very well that was a hatchet piece that appeared in the New York Post. No truth to the story whatsoever.”
“All I know is that you were accused of molesting a suspect’s wife, and that she filed charges against you, which caused your immediate dismissal.”
His eyes were blazing now with fury. “That story was a fabrication and a lie,” he growled. “Nothing about it was even remotely true.”
“Then you won’t mind setting the record straight? Give the good people of Hampton Cove your side of the story? Your version of the facts?”
“It’s not my version of the facts, Miss Poole. They are the facts.”
“And what are those? And why haven’t you told them to anyone before?”
At this, instead of launching into a long-winded harangue about the mayor’s wife and the commissioner, as she’d expected, he simply closed his mouth with a click, and stood there glaring at her, visibly seething with anger.
“Oh, come on, Detective Kingsley,” she prompted. “You can do better than that.” She took a step closer. “Isn’t it, in fact, true that you claim you stumbled upon a secret liaison between the commissioner and the mayor’s wife? That you were consequently the victim of a cover-up, and that these false accusations leveled against you were simply a way of discrediting you so no one would believe your crazy story about the commissioner’s illicit affair?”
His eyes were blazing, his face taking on a darker tinge of scarlet. A vein was dangerously throbbing at his temple, and she took another step closer.
“Where did you hear that?” he finally demanded in a deep, low growl.
She shrugged. “I’m a professional, Detective. I have my sources.”
When he grabbed her by the shoulders and gave her a vigorous shake, she knew she’d gone too far. “Tell me who told you about this,” he spat, his eyes boring into hers with an intensity that held her spellbound.
“I—I can’t,” she said, suddenly realizing the dangerous position she’d maneuvered herself in. Here she was, all alone in the woods, near the scene where Paulo Frey had been murdered, with a cop who stood accused of molesting a woman and had lost his job as a consequence. Why did she have to come out here alone? And why did she have to provoke this man? She’d poked the bear, and now he was awake and furious and ready to devour her!
“I want you to let me go now,” she said, squirming.