The Rookie's Assignment. Valerie Hansen

The Rookie's Assignment - Valerie  Hansen


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I saw a similar one earlier. Want me to slow down so you can get a look at the license?”

       Swiveling, Nick loosened his seat belt. “Don’t bother. There’s ice or snow plastered on the plate. I can’t even tell what state it’s from.”

       “I could pull over and let him pass.”

       “No. Keep driving steady.”

       “Why am I getting the idea this is more than curiosity on your part?” Keira asked, hands fisted on the wheel, eyes on the road.

       “Just being cautious.” He wasn’t about to reveal the nagging notion that someone was already bent on stopping him from doing his job in Fitzgerald Bay. Whether he was dealing with a conspiracy or with an individual was a moot point. Danger was danger no matter who was behind it.

       Of course, there was also a chance that his imagination was playing tricks on him. It had before.

       Yet it was that kind of keen awareness of surroundings that kept veteran officers alive. He’d be a fool to laugh it off.

      THREE

      Nick was out of the vehicle the moment Keira came to a stop at the curb in front of the condo. Remaining close to the SUV he waited for her to join him.

       “See anything now?” she asked.

       “No.” Although her position wasn’t too exposed, it didn’t suit him so he nudged her between himself and the side of the car.

       “Then why are we skulking around? This is broad daylight in Fitzgerald Bay, not the middle of the night in some dark alley in Boston.”

       He forced himself to relax on the outside while his heightened senses continued their vigilance. “Look. Whoever was ransacking my room might have been no more than a run-of-the-mill thief. Or—” he cleared his throat “—he might have been somebody who knows why I’m here and intends to stop me, one way or another.”

       “Hardly anybody was aware of your assignment yesterday when you surprised the burglar, though.”

       “I’m not so sure of that. By the time I had a little chat with the proprietor of the inn around suppertime, she seemed to know all about me. She even understood why I wanted to transfer into Olivia’s old room for the night.”

       “What can I tell you? It’s a small town.”

       “Okay. So what if somebody is trying to convince me to give up and go back to Boston? Who do you know who might object to my being brought in to investigate the Henry killing?”

       Keira chuckled quietly, grinned and arched her eyebrows at him. “Is that a trick question?”

       It was frustrating to see that she wasn’t taking this situation seriously enough. That was the problem with being raised in the same place she was sworn to protect. She liked it here so much that she was unable to see the worst, even when it was staring her in the face.

       “Look,” Nick said, “I know none of you are thrilled to have me butting in on your murder case but the chief did agree to accept my help so we may as well bite the bullet, so to speak, and make the best of it.”

       “Agreed.”

       “Good. That’s a start. You also need to anticipate heightened danger once we poke our noses into other people’s business. I don’t think you’re ready for that.”

       “We’ve been over this subject before, Delfino. What do you expect me to do, suspect everybody?”

       “All I’m asking is that you keep an open mind in both directions, good and bad. Just because a person may be familiar to you, that doesn’t make them innocent.”

       “Aren’t you getting tired of hinting that my brother is guilty? I’m sure getting tired of listening to you.”

       “That’s not what I meant.”

       “Sounded like it to me.” She pushed past him and started for the condo. “Take my advice. You’ll get along a lot better around here by keeping your unfounded deductions to yourself.”

       Nick followed closely, continuing to scan the area. “Noted. Look, Keira, I’m not oblivious to your family conflict. I’ll back your decision if you ask to be reassigned.” To his astonishment he saw her set her jaw and start to shake her head.

       “Uh-uh. Not on your life. You’re supposed to be the best. I not only want to learn from you, I want to be in on solving poor Olivia’s murder. She didn’t deserve to die, and whoever is responsible needs to pay. Scripture says that vengeance is the Lord’s but I’d be overjoyed to have Him use me—use us—to bring that killer to justice.”

       “I believe you,” Nick said, smiling in spite of himself. “You’re quite a woman.”

       “I’m a cop,” she countered, chin lifted proudly. “That’s what I was born to be and that’s all that matters right now. We’ll get along fine as long as you add that important fact to the list of other things I’ve told you.”

       “Yes, ma’am,” he said with a snappy salute.

       “Humph.” Keira made a fist and slugged him playfully on the upper arm while exhibiting a lopsided smile. “I’m glad we understand each other. Remember, I grew up with four brothers. If I could hold my own with them, I can certainly keep up with you.”

       She produced a key. “Come on. Let’s have a look at the apartment. I think you’ll like it.”

       As Keira unlocked the front door of the former flour mill, he studied the old stone building. It had two visible stories, indicated by parallel rows of multipaned windows. The idle wooden waterwheel had been left in place on one side and definitely increased the rustic structure’s character.

       Several cars were inching past, obviously taking it easy because of the slick roadways and the hidden hazards presented by the cobblestones beneath the packed snow and ice.

       At first, Nick didn’t notice anything odd. Then, in the background, he spotted a truck that looked like the one that had been following them before. It was parked in a private driveway with only the front part of its hood visible from behind a board fence. Clouds of rising exhaust indicated that the motor was running.

       He tapped Keira’s shoulder. “Wait. Look. Do you see what I see?”

       She wheeled. “Where?”

       “There. Half a block south. By the yellow house.”

       “That property belongs to the Smiths. They always go away for the winter.”

       “Any chance they’re home now?”

       “No. Their nephew sometimes stops by to check the place but he drives a red SUV so that’s not him, either.”

       “Only one way to find out for sure what’s going on, then.” Nick was scanning the surrounding area. “It’s too open right around here. What’s the best way to work my way there on foot without being spotted?”

       “The mill basement joins up with a river that’s probably still frozen solid. We could travel along the banks until we got to some cover, then cut through a few backyards and come up behind him.”

       “Not we. I,” Nick said firmly.

       “But…”

       “No buts, rookie. I’ll need you to keep an eye on that truck and provide a distraction if necessary.”

       “Okay, okay,” she finally said with a sigh. “Come on. I’ll show you through to the back.”

       Nick followed her. The vacant apartment was sparsely furnished yet appealing. Crossing the polished, wood-floored living space they hurried through the kitchen to a door that led them down a dusty flight of stairs into the former grain-storage area. The cavernous, musty-smelling room served as a catchall for extra building supplies and some


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