Free The Negotiator by Dee Henderson

already left for the day. The report could wait until tomorrow. Dave knew that, but he had decided to seize the moment and see if Kate happened to be home.
    As he drove toward Kate’s neighborhood, he tried to decide what he would say when he saw her. He wasn’t sure how he had left it last night after she said she didn’t believe. He thought he had handled it with tact, not shown his disappointment, but he wasn’t going to assume that fact; he couldn’t. He would soon know, maybe. Given the way Kate could control her voice and expression, clues to what she was thinking could be subtle at best if she decided to play it cool.
    Dave ran his hand through his hair, admitting to himself he had no idea why he was doing this. To hear her voice again. Coax out another smile. He groaned at the realization he had just jumped again in his thoughts to something well beyond friendship and seriously considered abandoning this idea. He didn’t need this kind of emotional quicksand.
    His jaw firmed. He would keep it friendly. Brief.
    He liked her, really liked her; he would just have to start treating her like a cousin or something.
    Right. That was easier said than done.
    Dave turned onto her block and slammed on his brakes.
    There were three squad cars, lights flashing, parked at an angle in front her building.
    That call. Kate was in trouble.
    He should never have let her blow off that threatening phone call. He had known it wasn’t something to ignore, and he had backed off when she got annoyed with him. He didn’t do that! Evaluating threats, protecting people was his job. Someone’s feelings had to be secondary to her safety, and he had overruled that basic mandate because he wanted to stay in her good graces. If Kate was hurt…
    Dave pulled in behind a squad car, grabbed his keys, and hit the pavement at a run. Manning was coming down the building’s front steps. “What happened?” Dave demanded.
    “Kate got a package.”
    “Inside her apartment?”
    Manning shook his head. “Leaning against the front door.”
    “Where is she?”
    “Inside. We’re just wrapping up.”
    Dave stepped past the lab technician dusting the front door. There was barely room to maneuver in the crowded apartment. Dave knew from the normal tones of voice that the immediate crisis was past, but his heart still pounded. Graham, talking to one of the other officers, spotted him, and waved him back into the living room.
    Kate was on the other side of the room. Everything else going on slid into the background.
    She looked furious.
    That realization stunned him. He had been braced for hurt; prepared, if she wasn’t hurt, to see rigid control hiding her thoughts. He hadn’t antici-pated seeing emotions full blown. Halfway across the room he could feel the emotions shimmering off of her. She sizzled. With her arms crossed, attention on her boss, she paced in three feet of open real estate like a caged tiger.
    She hadn’t seen him yet, and he was momentarily glad for that.
    Stephen came up behind him, carrying a cup of hot coffee.
    “There was a package delivered, left leaning against her front door,” Stephen told him quietly. “We had gone to dinner at the Italian place around the corner; I walked her home. The florist box was leaning against the door. I reached for it, and Kate slammed me onto my back by instinct, nearly gave me a concussion.”
    “What was in it?”
    “A black rose. Her friend is back.”
    Kate looked over and saw him before he could follow up on Stephen’s last comment. Dave watched her expression change, harden, then clear. He buried a sigh. So much for wondering how she would react to seeing him here.
    He moved past Graham to join her. “Kate.”
    “Dave.” She didn’t look pleased to see him, but he tried not to take it personally. This place had become Grand Central Station, a fact that had to be frustrating for her. She needed some space. As a cop, that would be even more true than for someone else. For the same