“Are you okay to drive, Nick? Do you want me to...”
“I’m fine. I’m only a couple miles from here, and I have one functioning eye. How about you?”
She was rattled to the core and definitely wouldn’t get any sleep tonight, but one of her favorite things about Nora’s place was that there were few places for anyone to hide in the wide-open loft. She always parked her car right next to the metal stairs that led to the back entrance. “I’m good. Don’t worry about me.”
Nick walked slowly to his Jeep, still cradling the side of his face with one hand. She felt bad that he was suffering, but she also felt a tiny spark of pride. Maybe she hadn’t fought back successfully, but she’d fought. That was something, right?
* * *
Nick went into the office for a few hours on Saturday morning, but there was no sign of Cassie. He should have been relieved, considering she about killed him with that damn pepper spray the night before. Instead, he felt a nudge of disappointment, and more than a nudge of concern.
Something happened.
One of the reasons he wasn’t a cop anymore was that he’d run out of patience with victims. He looked at Jada’s wedding photo on his shelf. No, that wasn’t completely true. He’d run out of patience with victims who didn’t help themselves. Who willingly allowed themselves to be victims. That’s why his partner was dead. If Beth Washington hadn’t gone back to her husband, Jada would still be alive.
But Cassie had armed herself with pepper spray and she hadn’t hesitated to use it. She’d used it badly, but she’d used it. It was a good thing she was so bad with the stuff—at least she’d blinded him in only one eye.
He slid his notes from his time with Brad into a manila folder and put it on the corner of his desk to review on Monday. Blake Randall would be back in the office, and Nick’s orientation period would come to an end. He looked forward to getting down to business. But first, he needed to finish unpacking and get himself settled in the small house he’d rented on Gallant Lake. He was getting sick of living out of cardboard boxes.
It was weird not seeing Cassie sitting at her desk when he left the office. He wondered if she’d take him up on his offer to teach her self-defense. She didn’t need to become a Krav Maga expert to protect herself. But she was so damn jumpy and twitchy about everything. She’d have to lose that spookiness to be effective at self-defense, which was all about outthinking the enemy. Nick frowned. He didn’t like the thought of the quiet brunette having enemies. Especially the kind who drove her to have such a quick trigger finger on a canister of pepper spray.
The heavy blue stapler sat on the corner of her desk, just begging to be hidden somewhere. Maybe he should leave her alone, especially with the boss coming back next week. But what was the fun in that? He set the stapler on the windowsill, tucking it behind the curtains that were pulled back to show the view of Gallant Lake and the surrounding mountains. Maybe he’d get out in the kayak tomorrow if the nice weather held.
But he woke the next morning to the sound of rain pounding on the metal roof. Kayaking was out of the question. He slid out of bed and opened the blinds on the window facing the water. Looked like a good day to do some shopping for the basics he needed to fill his pantry and refrigerator. He liked to cook healthy meals, but this transition week had seen him settling for far too many pizzas and frozen dinners. Time to get back on track. But first, there was an interesting-looking little coffee shop in Gallant Lake that he’d been meaning to try, and this was a hot-coffee sort of morning.
Apparently lots of people felt the same way, because the Gallant Brew was busy. As he stood in line, he studied the local artwork that lined the brick walls. A large bulletin board was filled with fliers about local events—a quilt show at the library, a spring concert at the elementary school, a senior travel group meeting at one of the churches. Slices of a small-town life he had no idea how to navigate.
His rising sense of panic settled when he saw the notice from the Rebel Rockers climbing club. The group was advertising a spring multipitch climb at the Gunks. The famous Shawangunk Ridge was known to be one of the best rock-climbing sites in the country, and a group climb like this would be a great way for him to learn his way around the cliffs. He’d get to know some local climbers, too. He tore off one of the paper strips with a phone number on it. Maybe this wouldn’t be such a bad place after all.
There was a collective burst of female laughter from the back of the shop, and one of the voices sounded oddly familiar. There were two women bustling behind the counter, trying to serve the large group ahead of Nick. One was older and tall, with a long braid of pewter-colored hair. The other was petite, with dark hair and a bright smile. She said something over her shoulder toward the hallway that disappeared into the back of the shop. That’s where Cassie Smith stood, juggling a large cardboard box in her arms.
The shorter brunette was filling a metal pitcher with frothy steamed milk, her voice rising over the hiss of the high-tech espresso maker. “Just set those mugs in the kitchen, Cass. I had no idea how low we’d gotten. You’re a lifesaver!”
“No problem. I’ll go get the second box for you.” Cassie, dressed in snug jeans and a short pink sweater that teased a bit of skin at her waist, turned away. Hot damn, her auburn hair was swinging free this morning, falling past her shoulders thick and straight. The box struck the corner hard as she turned. Her grip slipped, and she threw a knee up to keep the box from hitting the floor as she tried to regain control.
Nick was there in three long strides, grabbing the box away from her. To his surprise, both women at the counter rounded on him like he’d gone after Cassie with a machete.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” The older one slammed the cash register shut, ignoring the protest of her customer and heading his way with fury in her eyes. The petite one was less confrontational.
“Sir, you can’t be back here...”
“Nick?” When Cassie spoke his name, both women stopped.
“You know this guy?” The taller woman looked him up and down, clearly unimpressed with what she saw. “I’ve never seen him in here before.”
“He works at the resort, Aunt Cathy. He’s okay.” She reached for the box. “I’ll take that.”
Nick shook his head. “It’s heavy. Tell me where you want it.”
She opened her mouth as if to argue, then reconsidered, pointing to the kitchen. “Anywhere in there. Thanks.” He set the box down on the stainless steel counter in the tiny kitchen, then turned to face her.
“That’s too heavy for you to be carrying.”
“Apparently not, since I managed to carry it down a long flight of stairs just fine. I didn’t steer very well, that’s all.” She turned away and headed down the hallway, then looked over her shoulder at him in confusion when he followed. “What are you doing?”
“You said there was a second box. I’ll get it.”
She turned slowly, her right brow rising.
“No. You won’t.”
Nick shook his head in frustration. “We can stand here and argue about it as long as you’d like, but I am going to carry the other box down. If you’d bumped that one into the wall on the stairs, you could have fallen and broken your neck. Do you care anything at all about your own safety?”
“Seriously? I pepper-sprayed you in the face Friday night. I think that shows how much I care about my safety.”
“Yeah? You still haven’t agreed to my offer to help you learn how to protect yourself. And you’re fighting me about carrying a box of coffee mugs when you know damn well I’m right.” His voice rose slightly on those last words, and she stepped back. Her voice, on the other hand, dropped so low he barely heard her.
“I’m sorry...” Her brows