Free Armed With Steele by Kyra Jacobs

Officer Frank. “And if I don’t?”
    “I take him down to the station, lecture him for a while, then have his parents come pick him up.”
    Officer Steele handed me my belongings. I peered inside the bag at his pitiful booty—some mail-order costume jewelry and a handful of DVDs. “Sounds like enough of a punishment to me.”
    “It’s not like she had anything good in there, anyways.”
    I looked up in surprise, and took a step forward. “Why you little—”
    “Easy there, Jessica,” Officer Steele said, holding me back. “We saved your things. Let’s not turn this into an aggravated battery case.”
    I shook free from his grasp and glared at the kid as Officer Frank led him away. When I turned back around, Officer Steele gave me an apprising look. “What?”
    “Remind me not to piss you off.”
    I narrowed my eyes, in no mood to be teased. “Remind me again why you’re here?”
    “I told you—to discuss the Sullivan case. And besides, I just caught your burglar. Don’t I at least get a ‘thank you’ or something?”
    “Oh. Right.” I cleared my throat, took a deep breath, and ate some crow. “Thank you…for coming to my rescue.”
    “You’re welcome.”
    “Um, would you like to come in?” I hitched a thumb toward the door. “I might even have some leftover dessert in there somewhere.”
    He grinned, eyes shining in the dim light. “Well now, how could I possibly turn down an offer like that?”
    * * * *
    “Be careful, it’s still hot. “
    I set a steaming bowl of apple crisp on the table in front of him, then walked around and settled into an empty chair. He held out for all of five seconds before caving to his sweet tooth.
    “Wow,” he said, then reached for his glass of milk and took a quick drink. “I thought those cookies of yours were pretty good. But this? Damn, you can cook .”
    I shook my head. “Bake.”
    “What?”
    “I can bake . I’m no good at preparing actual meals, but desserts I can do.”
    “Well, whatever you call this, it’s delicious.”
    I appreciated the compliment, but that wasn’t why I’d invited him in. I wanted an update on Grace’s accident investigation. Tempted as I was to bring it up, though, I let him finish his dessert uninterrupted. After all, he had just come to my rescue.
    Besides, it wasn’t often—hell, it wasn’t ever —that I had a man this handsome all to myself in the kitchen. He got to eat. I got to enjoy the view.
    He inhaled the last bite, and I piped back up. “So, did you come here to con me into feeding you again, or did you really want to talk about the accident?”
    “I came by to talk about the case. Although, now that I know you’re the neighborhood Martha Stewart, I might have to stop by for leftovers more often.” He chugged the last of his milk and set the glass down with a satisfied, “Ahh.”
    “Hmm. Well, if you promise not to lurk in our shrubs and scare the crap out of me every time I come home, I might consider saving some for you from time to time.”
    He chuckled. “I promise. But in all seriousness…” He pointed to the now-closed kitchen window. “You really need to do a better job of protecting yourself.”
    “Okay, Mr. Friendly Neighborhood Police Officer, we—”
    “Nate. Please, when the uniform’s off, I prefer to just go by Nate.”
    “Alright then, Nate,” I said, and rather enjoyed how his name rolled off my tongue. “We’ve already been through the ‘Jessica is a dumbass and needs to learn how to lock her windows and doors better’ lecture. It won’t happen again, so let’s move on.” I leaned forward in my seat. “Tell me why you’re here.”
    His gaze locked on mine. “They closed the Sullivan case yesterday.”
    All that waiting while he ate just so he could serve me up a big dish of disappointment? Thanks for nothing. “I thought you were closing it after we talked last weekend.”
    “That’s what I thought they’d planned to do. But I shared your information with the