Free Chance Collision by C.A. Szarek Page A

part of him was bothered by that. His gaze settled on her lips, but he made himself look away.
    Nikki harrumphed, staring out of the window.
    Pete sighed. Something about taking her to a murder scene roiled his stomach, but his CI, Raleigh Carter, was notoriously unreliable. And if Manning had tried to bring him to the PD instead of Pete going on scene, the part-time confidential informant/full-time pain in the ass would’ve done something stupid, like attempt suicide in the cruiser and end up in the psych ward.
    “I’m sorry about all this, I really am.”
    She didn’t answer, and his instinct was to make her feel better.
    “When you live in a small city and you work at a police department, sometimes you get complacent. You forget that bad things can happen to anyone. Anywhere. To good people. It’s—”
    “I’m not complacent,” she snapped, but at least she was looking his way again.
    “Uh, I didn’t mean anything by it.” Pulling the car to a stop at a red light, Pete met beautiful dark eyes. He couldn’t read her expression and his gut tightened for some reason. “I’m not going to complain about you getting stuck with me .” He reached for her hand and squeezed.
    Why the hell did you say that? The boss warned you. You agree with what he said, idiot. You never should’ve kissed her. Ever. You will not do it again. Stop thinking about it.
    But when Nikki’s expression softened, Pete almost changed his mind. She squeezed his hand right back.
    “I’m sorry.” Her voice was soft, emotional. “It’s just… I never thought I’d be…a witness. You’re worried they’re going to come after us. There’s only one thing worse than a witness. A victim.”
    Pete sucked in a breath. “Nothing is going to happen to you. Or your gram.”
    A horn blared and they both jumped.
    “Light’s green,” Nikki said, one corner of her mouth up.
    Biting back a cringe, he nodded and hit the gas as a small pickup whipped around them at top speed and offered a one-finger salute.
    “Jerk,” Pete and Nikki said at the same time. They exchanged a glance and a small laugh. The weight lifted off his chest.
    “At least you can give them a ticket, if you want,” she said, flashing a smile.
    Pete chuckled. “I haven’t written a ticket in years. I wouldn’t know where to start.”
    “I’m just saying. It’s handy and all.”
    Grinning, he nodded and wanted to touch her again. Anything to keep them connected in some way. But he straightened his spine and berated himself. He didn’t need Chief’s warning to keep his hands to himself. He wouldn’t touch her, and he wouldn’t kiss her. Pete wouldn’t hold her. Wouldn’t be tempted by her in any way, shape or form. He’d do what was right—what he always did. His job.
    He would protect her and her grandmother and arrest Caselli’s bastards.
    “Where’re we going, anyway?” Nikki’s voice pulled him out of his head.
    “The old trailer park.”
    “I haven’t been by there in years.”
    “It’s pretty empty. Only a few trailers left there. We chase meth-heads out of there all the time, but the guy who owns the property really wants to clean it up. Maybe even get some nicer trailers and modular homes and open the place back up.”
    A few months before, he and Andi had been on a case involving a meth lab in one of the old trailers. The owner of the grounds had reported it himself. After a few bankruptcies, he was still struggling. Pete felt for the guy, he really did. It would help the city if the man was able to open the trailer park back up. Legit residents would force the meth population to find a new stomping ground. Maybe outside of Antioch.
    “The Antioch slums.” Nikki’s tone was amused.
    Pete smiled. “If we had a definite slum, it’d be the old trailer park, for sure.”
    Their city of about fifty thousand had started out as what people in Texas liked to refer to as a ‘bedroom community,’ but they’d been expanding the last twenty years.