She got out bread for toast. It was interesting how easily they moved together to prepare breakfast.
“Another strike against Pam and Nikki—they’re not dog people.” He smiled at how Alice maneuvered around Cash without complaint, giving him the occasional pat or stroke without even thinking about it.
“That matters to you?”
“The dog and I are a package deal now.” He began laying bacon in the skillet. “Love me, love my dog.”
Silence filled the air. Had the love word thrown her when likening herself to a jealous wife hadn’t? The mysteries added up. “So, Alice, while we prepare breakfast, why don’t we have that talk?”
“All right.” She took down glasses and poured orange juice. “Before we get into that, though, would you like to tell me what you found while snooping?”
He went still, unsure if she bluffed, or if—
“I know you did, Reese.”
“You assume—”
“I know.”
Giving up, he said, “You’re loaded down with weapons. Want to tell me why?”
One shoulder lifted. “Self-protection.”
“Most people cover that with one gun.”
She avoided his gaze by turning the bacon with a fork. “So, what did you find?”
“Glock in bedroom closet, Taser in nightstand—”
“You got into my nightstand?”
Interesting reaction. “Long enough to see the Taser, yes.” He studied her frown. “I also saw the baton under your bed.”
Mouth tight, she asked, “Is that it?”
No fucking way. “There’s more?”
With only the slightest hesitation, she lowered the heat under the bacon, took his hand and led him out of the kitchen and down the hall.
Reese was so astounded by her touch that he barely noticed Cash trotting along behind them. It seemed that wherever Alice went, the dog followed.
She veered into the bathroom, released him and gestured behind the toilet. Frowning, Reese leaned around her to see...a revolver strapped to the tank. It was hidden from view so that only someone who knew where to look would find it.
He started to say something, but Alice walked out, so he followed, as did Cash. She went into her office, pulled her chair out from her desk and tipped it back to show another Taser and a spare cell phone attached underneath.
“Jesus.” Reese rubbed a hand over his head. “What else?” Because somehow, he just knew there was more.
She marched back into the kitchen, opened a cabinet drawer, and one by one, set out a flashlight, another spare cell phone, a big knife, mace and finally a stun gun. “I prefer a Taser so I won’t have to get close, but the stun gun is here just in case.”
Muscles knotted, tension mounting from her dispassionate explanation and overabundance of weapons, Reese growled out, “Why?” She had a damned fortress going on, and there must be a reason.
“I don’t want to be hurt.”
In contrast to his tone, hers was soft, and a little chilling because of it. It wrecked him, imagining what might have instilled so much caution.
His worst fears were confirmed when her big dark eyes lifted to his, and she said softly, “Again.”
CHAPTER THREE
METHODICALLY, ALICE replaced each item in the drawer. She heard her own heartbeat, felt the rushing of her pulse, but outwardly, she showed nothing but calm resolve.
God, how good she’d gotten at that.
For the longest time, Reese said nothing. She wasn’t sure what to expect, how he’d react.
But when he did finally move, it was just to turn the bacon.
She closed the drawer, searching for something to say. “You seem competent in the kitchen.” He seemed competent at everything. “Would you like to do the eggs, too, or should I?”
“Why don’t you take a seat, and I’ll handle it.”
Ooookay. He sounded almost indifferent—not what she’d expected, especially from a detective. She pulled out a chair, and Cash came to lay by her feet.
“Do you have permits for the guns?”
That stalled her but only for a moment. Surely she did. “Yes.”
“That wasn’t a very confident reply.”
She repeated, more firmly, “Yes.”
“Hmm.”
“Stay, Cash. I’ll be right back.” She went into her office, checked that Reese hadn’t followed her and got out her special paperwork hidden within the register vent on the floor, held in place by heavy magnets. Inside, she found several permits. She located what she needed, put the rest back and returned to Reese. “Here you go.”
“If I check those, will they be legit?”
“I’m confident they will be.”
He shook his head at her. “The things you say and the way you say it—”
“Yes,” she amended. “They will be.” Not even for a second should she have doubted it. Everything she had, every resource, and yes, every weapon, would bear up under close scrutiny.
The bacon smelled delicious as Reese put it on a plate and got started on the eggs. “How many do you want?”
“One, please.” Watching him work, she appreciated the view: Reese shirtless, his shoulders flexing as he cracked eggs, his big bare feet planted apart on her linoleum floor. She could so easily get used to the sight of him in her kitchen. “Most women would want to cook for you.”
“Maybe.” He lifted his coffee cup for another drink, then glanced back at her. “I appreciate it that you aren’t being so clichéd.”
No, she couldn’t be. She was so unlike most women, any comparison would be hard to find.
He continued to watch her. “Does anyone else know about your cache of weapons?”
No one that he’d ever meet. She didn’t like lying to him, but really, she had no choice. “No.”
“You took far too long to answer.”
“I’m sorry.”
Reluctantly, he turned to flip the eggs. “So, why did you tell me?”
Alice shook her head. “I’ve been sitting here wondering the same thing myself. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t repeat it to anyone else.”
“Who would I tell?”
“Your friend Detective Riske. Or Lieutenant Peterson. I’d as soon not have to answer difficult questions.”
“All right.” He set the plates on the table. “Unless it becomes necessary to tell someone else, I’ll keep your secret.” The toast popped up. Reese put a pat of butter on each piece.
“It’s not a secret as much as it’s my private, personal business.”
He handed her a napkin, touched her cheek and took his seat.
Though he ate without pressuring her, Alice knew he still waited for an answer.
“It’s strange,” she said after a bite of bacon. “But I think I trust you.”
“That’s a