Shield of Refuge (10 page)

G
arrett couldn't understand what had happened to him. He'd never been one to fall for girls who spent more time worried about their looks than their studies, but come to think of it, there hadn't been more than one or two that had ever held his interest like Amber Scott. Her blatant faith and determination to do the right thing was an irresistible temptation, despite her striking good looks.

She looked at him and waited.

Lord, I don't know what to tell her. This isn't just about the lack of an investigation or why the chief ordered me to keep an eye on her, it's all about what You have placed on my heart. How do I tell her that You are totally in control here? That we are both totally in Your hands.

“I appreciate the time you took tonight to make it look like the police are doing something on the investigation, Garrett….” She walked to the kitchen and pulled out a bin of flour. “But I have a lot…”

“I know you do,” he interrupted, his voice barely a murmur. He followed, dodging her as she moved from one shelf to another, pulling huge stainless bowls and canisters and measuring pitchers across the room. Then she started dumping ingredients into the huge mixer that looked like it was older than both of them. “It's not an act, Amber. I don't know quite how to explain it to you.”

Amber put an eight-cup glass measuring cup of milk into the microwave and hit start. “Try,” she said with a look that he'd guess was more fear than smile.

Garrett crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the counter. “Are you sure you really want to know?”

“What's that supposed to mean?” She cracked eggs into a bowl, added oil and glanced at the microwave as if she was waiting for the hot milk.

“You don't like cops,” he suggested.

She looked at him through narrowed eyes. “So?”

“I get the feeling that there's more than just a professional bond between you and me.” He cleared his throat. “Or that there could be. Except for this hang-up you have with the police…”

Amber quickly looked away.

He reworded the question in friendlier terms. “Any chance of changing that?”

“You already have,” she said. “At least toward a few of you. I didn't like Lieutenant Chavez. And Samantha Taylor…I'm not too sure about her.”

“Sam's okay,” he said flippantly.

Amber's smile faded as she stared at him. “I think she has a thing for you…” she said, glancing up to see his reaction.

“I think you misunderstood.”

She shrugged as if she were trying not to care. “Maybe….”

He wasn't even listening. He didn't want to think about anyone but her right now.
Help her realize I don't say this lightly, God.
“I have a thing for you, Amber.”

They looked at each other and smiled broadly, his honesty disarming them. He took a step toward Amber and she toward him just as there was a loud knock on the alley entrance.

Amber startled.

“Are you expecting anyone?” he asked, holding her back as he moved toward the door.

“No,” she said, “Maybe it's CiCi….”

Garrett looked out. “It's Samantha.”

Officer Samantha Taylor knocked again, then Amber heard the antique doorbell ring up in the apartment.

Amber moved to open the door as Garrett went to the front lobby, motioning for her to keep his presence quiet.

Samantha reminded her of their meeting after the accident. “I was off for a couple of days, but I wanted to stop in and see how you're doing.”

“Fine. Thanks for thinking of me,” Amber said, hesitating to move away from the door.

“Good. Would you and Garrett mind if I came in for a minute?”

“Would we…?” Amber's voice faded away.

Samantha Taylor smiled. “I noticed his Mustang out front. I presumed he was here. Maybe he's down the block at the pub, though that's not like him.”

Amber froze.

“What's up, Sam?” Garrett said as he joined them.

Sam tried to step inside, but Amber was in the way. Garrett took hold of Amber's arm and pulled her toward him, allowing Samantha to come inside.

Sam closed the door and smiled. “I'm a little puzzled about the investigation of the police impersonator case.”

“They
are
investigating? Who's working it?” Garrett asked.

“That's what I'm wondering. What do you know about it?” She pulled a notepad from her chest pocket. “I noticed that the SUV is still in the same parking place that it was when the crime took place, so I asked your brother about it. He said you might be here.”

Amber crossed her arms over her chest and watched silently. He couldn't help but wonder how Samantha would interpret Amber's body language. It might be wishful thinking, but Garrett wanted to believe she was jealous.

“I don't know anything about it. I'm still on mandatory leave.” Garrett glanced at the beautiful party planner. Were his feelings for her obvious to anyone else? “I wanted to be sure Ms. Scott was doing okay.”

Samantha smiled, and Garrett knew she understood not to ask. Garrett and Sam had gone through the academy together, so they'd already built a high level of trust, and he knew Samantha was head over heels in love with her husband. Sam turned to Amber. “I hope we can find this guy and ease all our minds.”

He couldn't imagine what had been said to give Amber the impression that Sam was interested in him. They were like brother and sister. “I know you gave Amber a ride home that night, but it sounds like you were at the crime scene, too, right?”

“Yeah, good old Lieutenant Chavez asked me to go with him and Ms. Scott to the scene. There was plenty to check on, but Chavez didn't think it was relevant. I tried to talk to Nick, but…with the investigation he went through, I'm guessing he doesn't want to push the envelope quite yet. He suggested I talk to you before going to the chief. What's going on, Garrett?”

“I'm not sure, but something's not right. That's one reason I'm here, to see if Amber has recalled anything else that might open up a lead in the case. I wish I could get hold of the full report,” Garrett said, trying to avoid looking at Amber. “So what did you see that gives you reason to think they should have pushed…”

“I'm not sure it's enough to call the lieutenant on, but I'm pretty sure that there's enough to investigate Amber's report.” She pressed her finger to her earpiece and handed him a sheet of paper with her notes. “I've got to go. You have my cell number if you have questions,” she said. “If you think I need to take it to someone else, let me know.”

By the time Garrett had read all her notes, Samantha Taylor was gone. She'd been asked to run the plates on the yellow SUV the night of the incident. Even though she'd given the lieutenant the name of the owner, he'd almost bet it wasn't mentioned in the lieutenant's report.

He turned the page. The car was registered to Marcus Smith. According to her incident report, no one had even suggested contacting him.

The anger in Amber's voice caught his attention immediately. “What did she mean by she
thinks
there's enough to investigate? Why didn't you tell me everyone has totally blown it off as lies?” She stomped to the front door and opened it.

“Because we didn't,” he argued, pushing the door out of her hand and closing it tight. “Why do you think I'm here? And Nick and Sarah and Samantha? We've all told you directly that we believe you….” He studied her, wondering if he was imagining a tremor on her lower lip. “So why are you acting so guilty?”

He hadn't been on the receiving side of a woman's lethal stare since he'd moved away to college…and that woman had been his mother.

“Because every officer who responded that night made it perfectly clear, Garrett. I am guilty.”

“It was an accident.”

“You shouldn't be here, Garrett. Let yourself out.” She pivoted on her heel and stomped back to the security of the kitchen.

Garrett paused, closing his eyes and saying a quick prayer before taking off to find her. Before he got to the kitchen he heard a door close at the top of the stairs to her apartment. He waited a few minutes, mentally sorting everything out.

Why didn't she believe him? Could she really think that he'd lie to her? That all of them would?

He looked around the shop and replayed the evening. She claimed she didn't like cops, yet he'd seen no indication of that until after Sam had arrived. Maybe it was something Sam had told Amber that night.

Or maybe she'd read between the lines and knew the chief had sent him to keep her quiet. He needed to come clean, tell her that the chief couldn't be upset that he'd come here, that he'd sent him…. He couldn't tell her that. He wasn't here to keep her quiet. He was here to keep her safe.

Garrett stomped up the stairs and knocked. “Amber, I'm not leaving without you. And besides, even if I wanted to, I can't leave until you're down here to lock the door behind me.”

She finally opened the door, a look of frustration and fear on her face, “I'm sorry, Garrett, I know it's not your fault that they aren't investigating, but it's so…” She paused, letting her voice fade away as she shook her head.

“Wrong,” he suggested. “The police can't expect the community to have faith in us when one person brushes things under the rug. I know.” He peeked into her apartment, wondering if it was still her grandmother's decor, or if she'd taken time to put her own touches in it. “I wish I could explain all of this to you, Amber…but unfortunately, I can't understand what's going on, either. I need some time to look into it. Trust me.”

Her eyes darted to him, then she quickly looked away. “I'm going to have to call it a night. I appreciate your family's hospitality, but I miss my own place.”

“Sure,” he replied, turning around on the small landing and heading down the steep steps. “Since I sent CiCi away before she could finish dishes, could I help you do them before we leave?” He had to clear the air now, before she believed his feelings for her were fabricated, too. “I feel like I owe you that.”

She hesitated. “Well, I still have a lot to do to get ready for the wedding this weekend, and I'm running the shop with a small staff so it's been really nice to have your help. We're all putting in long hours. You don't have to, but it would be nice to start the morning with a clean kitchen. Thanks.”

Garrett turned to face her, hoping she meant that personally, not professionally. “It gives us a little more time to talk.”

A tentative smile softened the seriousness that had dampened the mood after Sam's visit. “I'm sorry I ran off, Garrett.” She took one more step down the stairs, “I'd like to spend more time with you, but I'm having a tough time sorting through the crime and the accident and my interest in you. And whether you should really be here at all. Personally, I mean.”

“It is a bit complicated,” he admitted. “I want to assure you that I'm going to keep looking for this girl, but I hold no ill feelings about the accident. It's been a mixed blessing, running into each other. I don't much like being off duty, but I can't deny I don't mind that we met—however God had to do it.”

Even in the dim overhead light he could see her blush. “Maybe we could plan to do something, a movie, or…”

“You busy tomorrow night?” He leaned closer and paused, wondering if she could hear his heart beating half as clearly as he could. If he couldn't control his reaction better than this over a woman, he'd better take sniper off his list of career goals.

Amber rested her hands on his shoulders and smiled. “Maybe we should wait till the investigation is over?”

He looked into her eyes, hoping he was reading her correctly. “I was going to ask what investigation? But you might take me seriously.”

“You have a warped sense of humor,” she whispered.

“Goes with the territory,” he said, easing her closer. “I liked your hair down tonight, during dinner. I don't think I've seen it down before. Even the night of the accident, you wore it up.”

“Health Department regulations. Most days I forget to take it down.” She reached up and pulled the band from her head and let the hair tumble over his hands as he gently touched her chin and drew her face to his.

He wasn't sure how long they stood there on the stairs, kissing, but this time it was his cell phone ringing that ended it. He wanted to ignore it, but he figured it was wise for them to slow things down. He took a deep breath and answered, admiring the look of contentment on Amber's face. She walked past him to the kitchen, trying to act as if nothing had happened.

Garrett followed, trying to get a better connection in the old building.

She drained the dirty water from the sink and started fresh, hot soapy water in the opposite side. As soon as she'd finger combed her hair off her face, she tied it up again.