and the rock at her feet.
“What happened here?” His casual tone belied the tension in his shoulders.
She pointed to the rock at her feet. “This came crashing through that window.”
“You were home at the time?”
She nodded and took a half step to her left. “I was right here.”
He crossed the room and inspected the area, his features carefully blanked.
“Did you see anything? A car in the driveway or someone on foot?”
“Nothing. M-my b-b-back was to the window and I ducked.” A telltale quiver crept into her voice and she cleared her throat. “I didn’t see a thing.”
If she didn’t know otherwise, she’d never guess his sea-green eyes had seen her naked or his pouty mouth had ravished hers. It was neither Luke the charmer, nor Luke the irascible grump standing in her living room.
It was Luke the cop.
She wasn’t at all sure she liked this Luke, so impersonal and closed off.
“Are there any kids in the neighborhood?” he asked.
“What neighborhood? The closest house is the Cape Cod at the bottom of the hill.” Nearly a half mile away.
“That’s Ms. Beardsley. She celebrated her seventy-eighth birthday last month.”
“Maybe her grandkids are visiting?”
“She never married or had any kids that I know of.”
When he retraced his steps to the foyer, he didn’t spare even a glance at her. She felt the loss like a lovesick puppy.
“I’ll do a search of the premises and see if anything obvious turns up.”
“Anything obvious? Like what?”
“Footprints, tire tracks. I’m not gonna lie, a photo ID would kick ass.”
At the first hint of his smile, her heart took notice.
“Do ten-year-olds carry ID?”
“I can hope, can’t I?” The gravity in his eyes betrayed him.
Her heart kicked up with her uneasiness. “You don’t think it’s a kid.”
He scratched a spot on the back of his neck. “I don’t know.” His gaze trailed to the window and he appeared to wrestle with his next words. With a sigh, his eyes found hers. “Whoever threw that rock did it in broad daylight, with occupants in the house. And they came within a foot of hitting you. I have to consider someone meant to intimidate. That, or they’re extremely careless. Either way, the situation just got a lot more dangerous.” Then, likely in response to the way the blood drained from her head, he added, “Potentially more dangerous.”
She rubbed at the ache in her temples.
“I’ll ask around town.” His tone gentled. “I’m sure someone knows of some kids visiting the island.”
“That should do wonders for business,” she muttered. If word got out the inn was unsafe, or the target of a rock-throwing serial killer, she’d be a failure before she even began.
Luke lifted his nose in the air and sniffed. “What’s that?”
Just then, a piercing alarm shattered the quiet.
The cookies! Emily dashed from the room, through the foyer, around the oversized table in the dining room, and burst through the swinging door into the kitchen.
Smoke clouded the air and she stumbled toward the oven. The fire alarm’s screeching wail rained down on her head as she stabbed the button to turn off the oven. She snatched a potholder off the counter and pulled open the oven door.
More smoke billowed into the room and mixed with the shrieking noise to forge a cocktail of chaos. Coughing, she yanked the cookie sheet from the oven and tossed the tray onto the stovetop. Several cookies were engulfed in flame. She backed away.
Luke appeared at her side. The epitome of calm, he raised a fire extinguisher, extracted the pin, and blasted the stove with a spray of pressurized air and foam. He discharged a second stream of foam into the oven’s interior before he abandoned the extinguisher to the countertop and dragged a barstool away from the kitchen island. He positioned the stool beneath the smoke alarm, climbed on top, and stretching to his full height, silenced the blasted thing.
In the aftermath, the quiet was
“What happened here?” His casual tone belied the tension in his shoulders.
She pointed to the rock at her feet. “This came crashing through that window.”
“You were home at the time?”
She nodded and took a half step to her left. “I was right here.”
He crossed the room and inspected the area, his features carefully blanked.
“Did you see anything? A car in the driveway or someone on foot?”
“Nothing. M-my b-b-back was to the window and I ducked.” A telltale quiver crept into her voice and she cleared her throat. “I didn’t see a thing.”
If she didn’t know otherwise, she’d never guess his sea-green eyes had seen her naked or his pouty mouth had ravished hers. It was neither Luke the charmer, nor Luke the irascible grump standing in her living room.
It was Luke the cop.
She wasn’t at all sure she liked this Luke, so impersonal and closed off.
“Are there any kids in the neighborhood?” he asked.
“What neighborhood? The closest house is the Cape Cod at the bottom of the hill.” Nearly a half mile away.
“That’s Ms. Beardsley. She celebrated her seventy-eighth birthday last month.”
“Maybe her grandkids are visiting?”
“She never married or had any kids that I know of.”
When he retraced his steps to the foyer, he didn’t spare even a glance at her. She felt the loss like a lovesick puppy.
“I’ll do a search of the premises and see if anything obvious turns up.”
“Anything obvious? Like what?”
“Footprints, tire tracks. I’m not gonna lie, a photo ID would kick ass.”
At the first hint of his smile, her heart took notice.
“Do ten-year-olds carry ID?”
“I can hope, can’t I?” The gravity in his eyes betrayed him.
Her heart kicked up with her uneasiness. “You don’t think it’s a kid.”
He scratched a spot on the back of his neck. “I don’t know.” His gaze trailed to the window and he appeared to wrestle with his next words. With a sigh, his eyes found hers. “Whoever threw that rock did it in broad daylight, with occupants in the house. And they came within a foot of hitting you. I have to consider someone meant to intimidate. That, or they’re extremely careless. Either way, the situation just got a lot more dangerous.” Then, likely in response to the way the blood drained from her head, he added, “Potentially more dangerous.”
She rubbed at the ache in her temples.
“I’ll ask around town.” His tone gentled. “I’m sure someone knows of some kids visiting the island.”
“That should do wonders for business,” she muttered. If word got out the inn was unsafe, or the target of a rock-throwing serial killer, she’d be a failure before she even began.
Luke lifted his nose in the air and sniffed. “What’s that?”
Just then, a piercing alarm shattered the quiet.
The cookies! Emily dashed from the room, through the foyer, around the oversized table in the dining room, and burst through the swinging door into the kitchen.
Smoke clouded the air and she stumbled toward the oven. The fire alarm’s screeching wail rained down on her head as she stabbed the button to turn off the oven. She snatched a potholder off the counter and pulled open the oven door.
More smoke billowed into the room and mixed with the shrieking noise to forge a cocktail of chaos. Coughing, she yanked the cookie sheet from the oven and tossed the tray onto the stovetop. Several cookies were engulfed in flame. She backed away.
Luke appeared at her side. The epitome of calm, he raised a fire extinguisher, extracted the pin, and blasted the stove with a spray of pressurized air and foam. He discharged a second stream of foam into the oven’s interior before he abandoned the extinguisher to the countertop and dragged a barstool away from the kitchen island. He positioned the stool beneath the smoke alarm, climbed on top, and stretching to his full height, silenced the blasted thing.
In the aftermath, the quiet was
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