Free An Eye for Danger by Christine M. Fairchild Page B

his knowledge of the detective, his incessant questions. God, the questions. Though it didn't justify Sam taking me at gunpoint, especially in Stone's presence.
    Then again, anyone could get a Kevlar vest on the Internet, be annoyingly nosy, or pretend to care about my safety. And even thugs could know the cops on their trails. If he was some dockhand-turned-arsonist prepping me for a big take, the most he'd find was a couple grand in the safe and cheap diamond studs in the back bedroom. Howard kept my high-end cameras and lenses at the office, my trust fund was tightly managed out of a Boston law firm, and the rest I'd hidden because I'd learned before that things can be taken from you. Like your freedom, your life, people you love.
    No, he had to be a cop. That explained my niggling subconscious. And Max knew. He'd sidled up to Sam from the get, playing tug of war instead of attacking, licking when he should be biting. I glared through the bathroom door at my handsome mutt, who was sulking on his plush designer bed, waiting out his exile to play with the stranger in our home.
    You're basing your security on your dog, Jules?
    "I'm curious," said Sam. "About what you thought of me before."
    Asshole?
    "People assume things, draw conclusions that turn out dangerous."
    "Move on, Officer." I'd stayed in the room to ensure he didn't brain himself on the floor, but I didn't have to suffer the indignity of more mind games.
    "Detective, actually." His voice sounded deflated. "Detective Wainwright."
    Shit, a detective. In my home.
    The only thing worse would be a Fed. I'd been interrogated before, with their prodding and pressure till I nearly broke. Nearly.
    The phone rang, and Sam peeked through the curtain, soapy-headed and squinting.
    "Relax, Detective. The machine, remember?"
    A few rings more, then a deep voice rose over the shower's hiss. "This is Detective McCarthy. I'd like to go over a few details with you, Julie. In person. I still owe you that cup of coffee, so maybe we could meet somewhere close to your apartment. You have my card, so at your convenience. But today would be best." Then the beep.
    Sam narrowed his eyes on me. I realized he couldn't hear the machine over the shower and that I was sitting a bit high.
    "One of yours," I said, slumping. "Your friend, McCarthy."
    Grumbling, Sam dropped the curtain. When the water shut off, I pulled an oversized bath towel from the closet. My arm wavered inside the moist shower, waiting for him to take the peace offering.
    "Sam?" I knew I couldn't jump fast enough to catch him should he pass out, and I was growing less inclined to bother.
    Finally, he grunted and jerked the towel from my hand. Relief settled my muscles. Strange how his name slipped over my tongue so easily now. The first time I'd called his name I'd been desperate, my leg collapsing under his weight. This time I'd spoken his name with familiarity. Sympathy even.
    With a zip , Sam drew the curtain back, his fingers clawing the wall for traction he couldn't gain, his mouth gaping like a fish on land.
    "Every breath is a real wallop," he said, leaning into my hold as I helped him over the tub ledge.
    His matted hair and flattened beard dripped with water onto the floor, creating another slip hazard. The towel was wrapped around his waist, but he'd not bothered to dry himself. Or wasn't capable.
    He resumed his seat on the throne, dripping and panting like a spent dog. And shaking. That was new. He couldn't afford to catch a cold with these broken ribs, so I grabbed another towel and set to rubbing his head. Leaning into my hold, he swayed with my pressure. Warm fingers slipped onto my arm, catching me off guard.
    "Stop," he whispered.
    "Too rough? Sorry, I'm used to Max."
    His brassy hair danced in all directions, his bloodshot eyes straining to look up at me. "He can't know I'm here. No one can know."
    I bit my lip. Shit. "You're not really a cop, are you? Cops don't take hostages."
    "What, you learn that on Law