Free Tempting the Devil by Patricia; Potter Page B

“It would explain how three officers could be taken, but no, I haven’t heard anything like that.”
    â€œYou’ve heard nothing?”
    â€œThey’re keeping everything very tight.”
    â€œBecause they don’t have anything?”
    â€œMaybe.”
    Another reporter joined them then. She excused herself and went to her car and opened it. Her leg was aching and she needed to sit down.
    She took out her notebook and jotted down some impressions of the church.
    Her thoughts were interrupted by the roar of many motorcycles.
    She stepped out of her car as what must have been more than a hundred officers on motorcycles roared up to a field just to the left of the church and parked their vehicles. They then lined the road, apparently in preparation for the arrival of the hearse.
    Just minutes later, it arrived. Uniformed men went to the back of the hearse and carried first one casket in, then a second as two women, one holding the hand of a child and the other clutching the sleeve of an older man, watched. The child was sobbing.
    A huge lump formed in the back of her throat. In defense, she stared around at the growing crowd. She saw Sandy standing with a group of deputies. Then her eyes moved to the right, scanning the crowd of people who followed the caskets into the church. Family and close friends .
    She jotted down a possible lead to her story:
    An endless blue line united by grief and dedicated to memorializing three of their own filled the town today .
    Police officers choked the streets of Benton, some having traveled as far as halfway across the country to pay their respects to three fallen comrades .
    They came first to a small country church, a plain white chapel that overflowed with local mourners. A large screen and plain chairs from other churches were provided for those who could not crowd inside. Hundreds of uniformed officers sweltered in the above-100-degree heat and listened as family and friends eulogized police officers Jesse Carroll and Kell Anderson. The service for the third officer, Zachary Palmer, was to be held later in the day at another church .
    She looked at her watch. Her first deadline was in an hour.
    She continued jotting down sentences, forming an emotional backdrop for the story. When the time neared, she would go toward one of the loudspeakers.
    She finished as much as she could, then stepped back out of the car. She started toward the cluster of people near one of the loudspeakers. The foot of her bad leg caught a rock, and she lost her balance. She felt a hand steady her, keeping her from an undignified plunge into the grass. She found her balance, then turned around to thank the good Samaritan.
    Dark brown eyes met hers. She remembered them, remembered the lean body and arresting face of the man who had intrigued her as he’d stood on the fringes of the press conference two days earlier.
    And his dark eyes were just as piercing and hard as they had been then.

chapter seven
    â€œIt’s you,” Robin blurted out in what she immediately realized was not one of her more brilliant moments.
    â€œI hope it’s me,” he replied with just the barest hint of a smile. “Are you all right?”
    She tried to put some weight on the leg. A jolt of pain ran through it, and—for a second—fear struck that she might have injured it again. She grasped his hand for support.
    The ache faded. She breathed again. She’d already started putting a small amount of weight on her leg without the brace. But very, very carefully. Another break could be crippling for the Humpty Dumpty leg, and she feared for an instant that she’d twisted it as she started downward.
    She felt the strength in his hand, in his body, as one hand stayed at her elbow. Heat from his body darted through hers, and she seemed to absorb some of his strength. For a moment she found herself leaning into it, something that startled her. She’d worked damned hard to restore