"I know you could have stepped aside and let me fall all the way down the stairs, but you didn't, and you know why? Because you're good, Zoe. You're not an asshole like Shelton." Kyle tried smiling, but it obviously hurt. He touched two fingertips to his bleeding lip. "We're okay. That's what counts."
Zoe sighed. "Either you have very bad luck or some-thing's going on with you and Shelton that you haven't admitted yet. Well, now you can tell it to the police. How do you like that? Do you need some ice for that lip?"
Kyle shook his head.
J.B. peeled a couple of paper towels off a roll and handed them to Zoe. "I'll take a look around. Don't beat him up while I'm not looking."
"It wouldn't make me feel any better." He nodded. "I know." He drew his pistol, a 9 mm SIG Sauer. She was aware of how serious he was, the professional at work. She wasn't. Not here, not now. Not ever again. The realization hit her suddenly, hard. She saw now that she'd spent much of the past year disengaging from law enforcement, leaving behind that part of her life. She'd done her duty as best she could in Connecticut, but when she was finally fired, she was ready for it.
She just didn't know what came next.
Whatever had happened to him over the summer- whatever he'd had to do-J.B. still had the focus and the drive to do his job. As he moved into the front room, she could see that every fiber of him was tensed, committed to what he was doing. It didn't matter he was on vacation, or that he'd kissed her. Not at that moment.
"That guy," Kyle said, motioning toward J.B., managing a weak grin. "He's something, isn't he? The FBI stud. Bet the local cops are going to love finding a fed here."
"Kyle-"
"I didn't mean to leave you, Zoe. Honestly. I don't know, I thought Shelton was still sneaking around, and I figured if I ran and got help-"
"He was here when you arrived?"
Kyle stared down at the table.
"Damn. You slipped in here, didn't you? What were you doing, pawing around in the attic?"
"I didn't get that far." He still didn't look at her. He sounded almost contrite. "I was going up the attic stairs when I heard him. I didn't know who it was-I figured it was you or McGrath. I felt-" He broke off, and Zoe thought he might have sobbed. "I felt like such a lowlife. A weasel, like you said. I'm sorry."
"Did Shelton hear you?"
"Yeah. He must have. He yanked open the door and jerked me out like I was some kind of peeping Tom. Scared the hell out of me."
Zoe smiled and patted him on the shoulder with her uninjured hand. "Good."
He managed a smile. "You're a hard-ass, you know that? I thought getting fired might mellow you out, but no way."
"Oh, but you're wrong. If I'd been in top-cop form, kiddo, I'd have managed to break your fall, nail Teddy Shelton on the stairs and tie you both out on the rocks for the gulls to pick your bones clean."
"Come on. We're bigger than you."
"Size isn't everything."
He grinned at her, and she saw that he did, indeed, have a tear or two on his dark eyelashes. "Bet Special Agent J. B. McGrath would've kicked some ass. Man, I almost peed in my pants when he pulled over and hauled me into his goddamn Jeep."
Zoe laughed, although it wasn't easy to let go of her irritation with him. "How did he know something was wrong?"
"I don't know. Fed radar or something. I think he saw Shelton screaming out of here in your car. He asked if you were okay."
"You told him Teddy shot at me?"
"Yeah. He got all grim-looking. You cops." But he glanced nervously out the window when the Goose Harbor Police, the department Zoe's father had built, arrived. "Going to rat me out for trespassing?"
"No, of course not. That's a private matter."
"If Chris finds out-" "I'm not keeping secrets from my sister, Kyle."
J.B. returned from his cursory search of the house.He had his shield out, his gun holstered for when he greeted the locals. He glanced at Kyle. "Tell the police everything. No bullshit. Teddy Shelton shot at Zoe and stole her car. He's not a good guy."
Kyle licked his cut lip. "He could have killed her, but-"
"You shoot off a gun that way, anything can happen. I'm not arguing with you. I'm telling you what you need to do."
Kyle made a face but sank lower in his seat, and Zoe could see he was finally intimidated. It wasn't because J.B. was armed-it was his directness, his clarity of purpose.
She let the police in, including the acting chief, Donna Jacobs. "Nice homecoming," Donna said as she entered the kitchen. "Three break-ins in a row."
"I don't know if this one's related," Zoe said, then stopped herself. "I guess you'll figure that out." "How's your hand? Does it need medical attention?" "A Band-Aid, but they're here somewhere. I'll be fine. Thanks."
Zoe noticed that J.B. had backed off, letting Jacobs and her guys do their jobs. A deputy sat at the kitchen table and took Zoe's statement.
When the police finished, Acting Chief Jacobs gave Zoe a bit of simple advice. "Buy a lock for the porch door, get that wrist looked at and try to stay out of the line of fire. We'll let you know when we find your car."
"Thanks."
"And I'll be in touch with CID," Jacobs added. "They need to know what's going on."
When she left, Kyle seized the moment and slipped out with her. He'd given the police his corrected version of events. Zoe supposed now he wanted to get to Christina before her big sister did. Or maybe just get out of her house before he had to be alone with her and
J.B. again.
She sank onto a chair at the kitchen table. Her cut was throbbing now. She glanced at J.B., who'd given his own statement. Brief, unemotional, to the point. The professional. "I noticed Chief Jacobs didn't give you any advice," Zoe said.
"That's because I don't need any."
"If you're implying I went off half cocked-"
"I'm not implying anything." He got to his feet, his mood difficult to read. "Let's have a look at that cut. There's a first-aid kit here?"
"On top of the fridge."
He retrieved it, a shoebox that Betsy had stuffed with first-aid basics. He set it on the table and dug out a roll of gauze, tape, a gauze pad, scissors and antibiotic ointment. "I'm assuming you're not going to a doctor."
"I want to look for my car."
"Yeah. Your car. You'd love to find it with Teddy Shelton inside." He lifted her hand onto the table and unwrapped her makeshift bandage of paper towels and a dishcloth. "If I think you need stitches, you're going to the emergency room."
"You can handle it, Dr. McGrath."
He eyed her with just the barest hint of a smile. "Don't mind me touching you, do you?"
She felt herself flush at the sudden memory of his hands on her hips, her body pressed into him. "Awfully cocky, aren't you?"
He shrugged. "Some things are obvious."
He dumped the bloody cloth in the sink and dampened a fresh one, which he used to dab at her cut. She didn't pull back. He was gentle but unrelenting.
"See," she said, "it's not that bad."
"Ever been shot at?"
She shook her head. "First time. There were a lot of bombs and guns this summer in Connecticut, but none directed at me. You?"
"Yep. Shot at, knifed, kicked, bit. Well, one guy tried to kick me. He did not succeed."
"I've been drawn on," she said. "Lots of people have screamed at me. Maine 's a low-crime state. Bluefield 's a small town. Like I said, there were the bombs this summer-ouch."
"Sorry."
He set down the wet cloth and squirted on a dab of antibiotic ointment, using his finger to spread it over the cut. It stung, but more from the pressure than anything in the ointment itself.
He snipped off a length of gauze. "Did you tell yourself not to fall for anyone in law enforcement?"
"Never thought about it."
His look was disbelieving. "Right."
"My last date was with an organic farmer in Connecticut. Great guy. We went to a goat show together."
J.B. tore open the gauze pad, lifted her hand andplaced the pad on the wound, then wrapped it with the length of gauze he'd cut. He tied and taped his bandage. "There you go. Does it hurt?"