Shadow Point Deputy. Julie Lindsey Anne
the bridge, waving to a set of campus security officers. “Those guys showed up as I was hauling you off the street. I barely caught you before you hit your head again.” He chuckled. “You were right in the middle of telling me how well you felt.”
“I think I have a concussion.”
“You don’t.” He smiled, happy to know that was true. She was fine. Slightly banged up, but all things considered, Rita was stellar. “It wasn’t the head injury that knocked you out, but that goose egg is going to look a lot worse before it starts looking better.”
Rita dissolved against his passenger seat. Her fingers sought the wound. She winced when she found it.
“Shock will do that to people. The fainting, not the goose egg. Anyway, you’re fine now.”
“Except someone still wants to kill me.”
“Yeah.” There was that. He ground his teeth. He needed to fix that. “You’re having a bad day.”
She laughed humorlessly, eyes fixed on the world outside her window. “Very bad.”
“And you’re all wet.”
“I need to go home,” she said.
“Already on it.” Cole took the bridge back to Shadow Point at half the speed he’d used to arrive in Rivertown.
Rita closed her eyes. “Why are you so calm, and how do you know I’m okay?” Her teeth chattered.
Cole ached to stroke the curve of her clenched jaw. “You’re with me now. You’re definitely going to make it, Horn.”
She rolled her head in his direction, blinking through tear-filled eyes. “And how can you be sure I’m not concussed?”
“Medical school.”
Rita’s rosebud mouth pulled into a droll expression. “Of course.”
“I dropped out,” he said, “so I’m not a doctor, but I was a medic in the army, and I’ve been bandaging up my brothers all my life. My uncle’s an EMT, too, so that helped.”
Rita straightened in her seat. “Wait a minute. You quit medical school to be a deputy?”
“Law’s in the blood, I guess.”
“I guess,” she agreed. “Clearly also a hero complex.”
“Not the first time I’ve been accused of that. I guess we have something in common.”
Rita wrinkled her nose. “What?”
“The hero complex.” He watched for understanding that never came, then tried again. “What do you call what you do?”
“Paperwork?”
“No,” he corrected. “Feeding stray cats and making lunches for the homeless. You know all their names, and I don’t even know all the bailiffs. What do you call yourself, if not a hero?”
A wave of pink spread over her cheeks. “Nothing. I’m just...trying.”
Cole worked to redirect his thoughts from that blush and all the other ways he’d like to summon it.
A few creative images came immediately to mind.
Rita’s lips parted. She dropped her sweet hazel gaze to her lap before raising her eyes to him once more. “I try to make a difference.”
Her words hit Cole in the chest. So much kindness in one small package. How did a woman like Rita Horn go unattached? If Cole were looking for something serious, which he wasn’t, and she wasn’t an endangered civilian in his care, which she was, maybe there could have been something between them.
Like what? He chastised himself. Pull it together, Garrett.
Ten silent minutes later, Cole pulled into Rita’s driveway.
Rita unlocked the door and welcomed him inside.
The house was exactly as he remembered. No one had been back while Rita was out. Then again, he’d already known the person responsible for overturning her place was likely the same one driving the sedan across the river.
He helped himself to a seat on her couch while she went to change clothes.
Cole checked his texts and listened to the handful of messages that had collected during his drive back to town. Campus security had conveyed the details of the attack to their local authorities. Rivertown police were interviewing the mass of witnesses and would report to West on the matter.
The phone vibrated in his hand, and West’s face appeared on his screen.
“You got something?” Cole moved the phone to his ear.
“Yeah, a pair of empty seats across from my desk. Where are you?”
“Rita’s place. She’s cleaning up from her fall in the fountain.”
“Get her here as soon as you can. Meanwhile, tell me what you learned.” The sound of West’s creaky desk chair echoed in the quiet background. Cole could practically see his older brother rubbing the stress lines off his forehead.
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