“That theory has the same problem, though,” Luke said. “If Shaye was a specific target, someone followed her to that grocery store. And if we’re talking about someone affiliated with a gang, yes, they wouldn’t be afraid to stake out a police station, but I doubt they’d be subtle enough to get away with it.”
“True. And if we’re looking at that kind of revenge, wouldn’t someone want us to know it was them?” Cole added. “Or go after the station too? Both of us instead of just Shaye? I don’t like the timing, and it seems way too coincidental that she’s targeted by gunmen twice—”
“She wasn’t targeted before,” Luke cut him off. “They had no idea she was involved in the digital analysis that got us the lead we needed on the gang leadership in the first place. They were there because we’d been investigating. She just happened to be on our side of the parking lot.”
A fresh wave of guilt washed over Cole. He knew why she’d been by the station doors, when she should have been on the other side near the forensics lab, out of the line of fire. Most days they’d ended around the same time and stood outside chatting for ten or twenty minutes before going their separate ways. That day, he’d been late, caught up in paperwork. And she’d almost paid with her life.
“Well, still,” Cole said, hoping Luke didn’t notice the new tension in his voice, “she’s been shot at twice in just over a year. I don’t like it.”
“Me, either,” Luke said, then swore.
“What?”
“Here she comes.”
“What?” Cole said, spinning back toward the direction of Shaye’s house.
His partner was right. Shaye was storming their way, her injured leg dragging a little behind, her hands crossed over her chest and a furious look on her face. None of that stopped him from noticing she was heading toward them in a nightgown that was way too short and way too thin for this kind of weather.
His mouth dried up as he got out of his truck, rushing over to her side and slipping his arm behind her shoulders in case she was still off balance from her injury. Behind him he heard Luke step out of the vehicle a little more slowly.
Shaye shrugged his arm off. “What are you doing?”
“Keeping an eye on things,” Cole said. “Just until we catch the shooter.”
She scowled but didn’t look at all intimidating in her nightgown. It was just cotton, basically a big T-shirt, but on Shaye it somehow looked sexy. Especially with her hair spilling around her shoulders, loose and rumpled.
“I told the chief I didn’t need protection.” Her words lost some of their anger as he continued to stare at her, trying to keep his gaze on her face. As if she suddenly realized what she was wearing, she tugged the hem of her nightgown farther down her legs, her gaze darting to Luke and back again.
Then she spun around. Just when he thought she was going to demand he leave and call the chief about his unauthorized stakeout, she called over her shoulder, “This is unnecessary. But if you’re going to insist on being here, you shouldn’t sleep in the truck. Come on. You can stay with me.”
A million images rushed through his brain, most of them involving that nightgown on the floor, and Cole knew he should refuse and climb back into the truck with his partner. Instead he followed Shaye inside.
Shaye tried not to feel self-conscious as she strode quickly back to her house, but she’d never been more aware of the swing of her hips as she walked, of her long, awkward limbs. She pulled at the hem of her nightgown, willing her cheeks to cool as she held the door open for Cole without turning around.
Mixed in with her embarrassment was annoyance. The chief had offered her protection, even though she could tell he thought it was unnecessary. She’d had only a moment’s hesitation before she refused. And yet here Cole was anyway, deciding what was best for her.
She tried to shove back her frustration. Cole was just doing what he always did, what seemed to come naturally to him: protecting everyone around him, whether they needed it or not.
“I’ll be right back,” she said over her shoulder as she headed to her bedroom. Pushing the door shut behind her, she changed quickly into a pair of loose sweatpants and a T-shirt, cringing every time she moved her leg. The painkillers were starting to wear off.
She paused a minute in front of the mirror, combing her hands through her messy hair. There wasn’t much she could do about the deep circles under her eyes, not without makeup, and she wasn’t going to dress up for Cole. Not when he’d shown up uninvited, determined to look after her whether she wanted his help or not. And not when the sound of his car on the quiet street had woken her from an almost sleep.
When she returned to her living room, she found Luke settled on her couch, his legs stretched out in front of him and his hands tucked behind his head. Somehow he managed to look relaxed and totally alert at the same time. She nodded at him and continued looking around, until Luke pointed silently into her kitchen.
That was where she found Cole, checking the locks on her windows.
Shaye let out a heavy sigh. “I always leave those unlocked.”
He spun toward her. “What?”
“The front door, too. I just let anyone in who asks.”
He frowned, giving her the kind of stare she’d seen him use on hostile suspects. “That’s not funny.”
She planted her hands on her hips, subtly resting more of her weight on her left foot as her whole right leg started to throb. Apparently when the painkillers wore off, it wasn’t a gradual thing. “I told the chief I was fine. You told me I had nothing to worry about, that this was an unlucky fluke. So why are you here? Were you lying to me?”
He leaned back slightly, and she could tell she’d caught him off guard. Good. She was tired of being scared all the time, tired of waiting for someone else to solve her problems. Tired of being in the dark about what was happening with cases that concerned her.
“No,” he said slowly, looking her over as if he wondered what had happened to the nervous computer nerd he was used to.
She’s gone, Shaye wanted to say, and she’s not coming back. Except that wasn’t the truth.
The truth was she was scared. But she needed to take charge of her life instead of letting things happen to her.
“Maybe you should sit down,” Cole finally said.
Frustration built up in her chest, and she was humiliated to feel tears prick the backs of her eyes. But she’d been shot today, so maybe she had an excuse. Her hip felt like it was on fire.
“I’m fine,” she lied. “And I really don’t need a couple of babysitters.”
“If I’m a babysitter, my rate is ten dollars an hour,” Luke called from the other room.
A smile quirked her lips, and she tried to hide it as Cole rolled his eyes.
“I wasn’t lying to you,” Cole said, taking a step closer, his hand hovering near her elbow, as though he expected to need to catch her if she suddenly fell. “There’s no reason to suspect this guy was specifically targeting you. Because if that were the case, how would he even know where you were at that exact time? It makes more sense