McAllister Justice Series Box Set Page 3

  “What d’ya say, Gila. Think our favorite pain in the ass went back to bed?” Today’s mini success was one of the first non-divorce cases she’d received, and she wanted to boast a little. An early morning arrival would allow her to scrutinize Matt’s latest hook-up if he had company.

  He never does.

  Their bond had grown from belligerent acceptance and cautious comradery into something she couldn’t define yet found herself craving on a regular basis. Matt had proven himself a voice of reason and good companion during their hikes in preparation for the upcoming survival course. The drool-worthy mental snapshots of a near-perfect physique didn’t hurt, either.

  His obvious intent to see her well prepared both for work and her upcoming course flagged his concern and attention to details. At times, she wondered if she’d crack under the information overload. When each hike ended with a breathtaking view of the valley or hidden lakes tucked against the mountainside, it made her realize life equaled more than work and ambition.

  Chapter Two

  “Hey, Damien. What a good boy. Did you miss Gila?” Katt knelt and opened her jacket to let the ferret hop down to the hardwood. Picking Matt’s lock and disarming his code usually earned a scowl and twist of his mouth. Her method of entry had become second nature and felt as natural as breathing.

  It had taken three meetings for the shepherd to accept her furry interloper as family. Now the dog jumped back and assumed a play bow position after Gila’s swipe at his nose. Hence, the games began.

  Curious strides carried her through the great room to the kitchen. A quick glance around failed to reveal any hastily removed clothes strewn across the floor or sofa, or a telltale path leading to Matt’s second-story bedroom.

  The stairway along the right wall opened up the floor plan and allowed Matt to monitor her expression as he padded down the steps.

  “Morning, Matt.”

  His raised brow dared her to ask the age-old question, so she placed her folder on the kitchen counter and sat. He ignored her smirk.

  “She left during the freaky light show, in case you want to know.” Lowered brows and thinned lips transformed his normal G-rated expression into NC-17 with extreme violence in the forecast. Opening the fridge, he bent to retrieve eggs and butter before nudging the door shut and facing the kitchen island. “Though, I guess I should thank you since I hate the morning after.”

  “I thought you stuck with women who weren’t so skittish.” No feminine scent drifted in the air, nor did he appear sleep deprived. “Must not have had a very good time.”

  Whether or not he presented his back to hide a deception, she couldn’t determine. Even superb self-control could slip. Matt was a cautious man where she was concerned.

  “What were you doing at the diner so long this morning?” The crack of an eggshell drew Gila’s attention. He scampered to the stool beside Matt and took a position to watch food cooking.

  Matt scowled. “Don’t do it, thief. If you jump on the counter again, you won’t get any treats.” Holding his hand out in a stay position wasn’t a good move and proved a little too close to the excitable creature.

  Gila bit his finger.

  “Ow. You son of a polecat.”

  “If you give him a piece of the bacon, he’ll leave you alone. How did you know where I’ve been? You’re keeping tabs on me?”

  “You still hungry? You need to put on more weight... And I don’t use bribery to train animals.”

  Admitting to tracking her wasn’t his style. As the oldest of six siblings, he took it upon himself to watch over his kin, blood relative or not.

  “Good thing he’s family and not an animal.” Katt swiped a piece of bacon from the package and dropped it in Damien’s bowl. “I can always eat. I got a new case and wanted to pick your brain.” As Kathryn took Gila’s seat, Matt snatched the rumpled jacket draped over her shoulder.

  “What the hell is this? Why are you carrying a man’s jacket?”

  Standing on top of a metal building holding an umbrella during a severe thunderstorm would’ve proven less threatening. The jacket fell open to reveal the bloodstain. “What the fuck, Katt?”

  “Calm down. It’s not my blood.”

  “Then who in the hell does it belong to?”

  She wondered if his frequent eye rolling produced headaches. “My new client, the one I’m trying to tell you about. If I’d left it in my car, Gila would’ve reflavored the material.”

  “Why couldn’t you get a dog or—a cat?” The last word stumbled out his mouth.

  “Because ferrets are far more loveable and easily transported. I couldn’t take a dog on a stakeout, and cats, well; I just wanted something more... interactive.” Since business had picked up, she spent more hours in her car. The ferret provided perfect company.

  Matt sighed. The damn kid didn’t know enough to stay out of trouble, either that or fate saw fit to test her survival skills at every turn.

  “Yeah, she nestled in my hamper the last time she was here. Thanks.”

  “At least the clothes were already dirty?”

  She received a snort for an answer.

  “What’s the case? Lost kitten, stolen purse? I hope you’ve learned to take care in selecting your clientele after the fiasco with the Biobotics CEO.” Keeping his attention on the food frying versus the curve of her ass tested his early morning restraint.

  “You know better than I do that the majority of cases are seventy-five percent watching and the rest taking a few pics. Not to mention the fact that any referrals I get from your brothers are lost-pet level.”

  “You’re saying that after the bastards at Biobotics drugged, kidnapped, and assaulted you, you’ll take on any case? Great move.”

  “That was months ago. I wasn’t raped. And—I’ve learned a lot since then.”

  “You weren’t hurt then because we arrived in time to prevent it.” Matt punched the knob to heat up the skillet then popped bread into the toaster. Swearing and slamming the butter dish on the table kept his hands from shaking the crap out of her. A ready supply of images flashed forefront in his mind of Katt curled on a dirty linoleum floor, fending off thugs’ intent on rape.

  “I had those creeps right where I wanted them. They were telling me exactly what I needed to know.”

  “When I arrived, they were circling your curled form on the floor.”

  “I was waiting to take them down.”

  “Uh-huh. Tell me about your new case and who spilled blood.” Matt set a plate before her then took the next stool.

  “It’s difficult to qualify my hunch. I’m not the one with years of police experience.” Beginning with her client’s arrival at the diner, details flowed without interruption except for clarification.

  “If your gut tells you he’s hiding something, then that is your guide and your starting point. He probably recognized the thugs who attacked him.”

  “Caden ran Denny’s plates for me after we drew a composite of his assailants.” She opened her folder to show him the copies. “Recognize him?”

  “No, but that doesn’t make him clean. Where’s your client now?”

  “Said he’s got a cabin in the mountains and is taking some time off from work. He thinks the pricks might be friends of his crazy ex. I told him I could start tomorrow but will be out of the area for a couple weeks beginning next weekend.”

  “The survival course will be good for you. You should have fun.”

  “I’m hoping to learn, not party.”

  “No reason to segregate. Try both for a change. You don’t appreciate leisure time.” He cringed at the thought of her having too much fun.

  “Pot, meet kettle. Wanna go for a hike? You keep telling me I’ll have to trek long distances to keep up with the group.”

  Matt sighed, caught between the necessity to see her all set and the need to keep his distance from her distracting hyacinth and jasmine scent. “Yeah, okay. However, no sunglasses. You need to get used to bright sun without them.”


  “Why?”

  “Instructors need to see your eyes so they can assess how you’re doing.”

  “I’m young and healthy. They can take one look at me and see that.”

  More than just healthy. “It’s more of a psychographic than a demographic. Jonelle and Wyler are very astute, organized, and competent. They each take their job seriously.”

  “Fine. Let’s take the Michim Trail. You can teach me more about walking lightly in the wilderness while I acclimate to higher altitudes.”

  “All right. Solve this puzzle, and I’ll teach you how to avoid a raging case of poison ivy along the way.”

  He loved watching her decipher his puzzles, the way she tilted her head to the side and lightly clenched her tongue between her teeth. That snapshot, along with the visceral reaction to her proximity would keep him awake at night.

  Using paper and pencil, he taxed her memory of angles, cosigns, and tangents. A talent for math and working with numbers furnished a hefty supply of puzzles they both enjoyed. When she solved his equation, he patted her on the head.

  “Woof.” A bright smile, hanging her tongue out to the side, and panting earned her an extra piece of bacon. Her prize.

  The interlude was a perfect moment of contentment.

  A soft rumble preceded Damien bolting from his bed with angry snarls of canine fury. His scrabble for purchase on the tile floor expressed excitement in clicks and screeches. At the bay window, his paws scraped down the glass before digging into the molding.

  Curiosity drove Matt to follow his shepherd and scan the front yard. At first, nothing appeared out of order.

  “Maybe he spotted a deer.” Katt padded over to look outside.

  “He doesn’t mind fur or feathers, but he doesn’t care for two-footed critters. That’s his intruder’s bark.”

  Other than family, visitors were a rarity. He liked his privacy. A speculative glance at his guest returned a pseudo-sincere smile. What has she gotten into now?

  “Maybe it’s a religious cult wanting to show you the error of your ways.”

  “Or the repo man coming to claim your scrap heap of metal. You really need to trade that shit in for something dependable. I’d be glad to float you a loan.”

  “Selling it is exactly what I’m planning on doing after this case is over. And by the way, that heap is paid for.” Her smile beamed with pride.

  Damien continued his verbal threat with a stiff-legged stance and lips retracted to reveal formidable canines.

  “Damn. Someone’s out there he’d like to taste,” Katt mumbled as she peered around Matt’s broad shoulders to catch a glimpse of the winding driveway cleaving the woods.

  His entire body went on alert with the steadying hand she placed on his back. Whether an act of innocence or to tease didn’t alter the end result. Muscles tightened to rival the strongest steel undergoing a tensile strength test. He wondered how many kips it would take to break him.

  Outside, the rear fender of her clunker backed up to the garage. Instead of a single color base coat after fixing the car’s rust spots, she and a friend had applied their own version of camouflage primer in black, brown, and green. Each loan offer had elicited scoffs and unorthodox jokes. If the day ever came when it failed her during a dire situation, he wouldn’t forgive himself. “I see a glint of metal around the last bend of the drive. Damn leaves are too thick to get a make on the car.”

  “That’s what you get for living in the forest.”

  “Dark blue or black. I can’t make out specifics. Stay here with Damien.” The chances of her remaining were nil, so he gave the dog a “protect” command and grabbed his shoulder rig off its hook by the hall closet. Not the best place to keep it, he knew, but between the home’s seclusion and his canine partner, he’d never considered the possibility of someone snooping around his place.

  A troublesome sensation congealed in his gut. His lane didn’t suffer lovers misjudging the private drive for a place to park. An intruder coupled with the coincidence of Katt’s visit ramped his apprehension to high alert, enough to taste the sour wad in his throat.

  She was a kid playing in a grown-up’s field. A dangerous one at that. Despite the childish games she played with his security system and her smartass attitude, she normally had a good head on her shoulders. He’d vowed to see it stay attached.

  Exiting without noise through his back door would give little advantage considering his jeans and white t-shirt contrasted the lush growth of the woods. With the dog’s alert having already sounded, stealth wasn’t an issue.

  Fifty yards of cleared space surrounding the home left him vulnerable. He hopped over the milkweed and profuse eruption of briars and vines growing along the edge and lost his balance. Scrambling to remain upright among the native ferns and thorns resulted in the latter snagging and ripping at his clothes and unprotected flesh.

  If his uninvited guest also prowled in the woods, Matt stood a better chance of catching him through a straight approach rather than heading for the winding driveway. If the intruder retreated over the dirt road, he might be able to head the bastard off before he reached his vehicle.

  The roar of an engine answered the question as he neared the edge of the woods on the lane’s second bend.

  Matt cleared the tree line as a cloud of dust spewed from spinning tires.

  Facing away, the driver stomped the accelerator as he hunched over the steering wheel.

  Male, dark hair, and indeterminate height, covered a large percentage of the population. “Shit. Katt, who have you pissed off, now?” As much as he wanted to keep her at arm’s length to protect her from his flourishing libido, his conscience wouldn’t allow her to take unnecessary risks.

  Mnemonics helped in times like this to remember the plate. She’ll probably understand right off the bat.

  A fresh surge of adrenaline rivaled the sun’s increasing warmth in bringing a sheen of moisture to his skin. He hadn’t felt the thorns digging into his skin, but dampness on his forearms heralded the scolding soon to come.

  As hard as he tried to shut down his emotions around Katt, his body twitched with the need to hold and strangle her at the same time. He’d settle for a solid lecture.

  At the first bend, she exited the wood’s edge and fell into step beside him. Damien padded by her side. “Well?”

  “I can handle two breasted girls.” He smiled at her shock, loving the way her eyes widened, then narrowed in warning.

  “Oh! ICH2BG is the license plate. Did you get a make and model, too?”

  Deflated by her quick wit, he mumbled. “Yeah, I got it. I’ll have Caden run it to keep it off the grid.”

  “See? Private investigators do have advantages.” With cheerfulness born of eternal optimism, she opened the back door then held her hand out to stop him. “You arrest some bigwig lately? What are you working on that warrants someone sneaking around your house?”

  “Me? Seriously? I’m not the one who finds trouble at every turn. Let’s go over your notes again. I want to hear your recording after I call Caden.”

  “Before you go inside, take off your shirt.”

  “What? Why?” As much as he wanted to hear those words, his breath halted in his chest. With a throat too thick to speak and conflicting images surging through his mind, he stared, trying to sort out her intentions.

  “Because I want to see you naked, of course. Because you’re gonna bleed on your tile floor and I don’t want to clean it up, or pick you up after your manly faint.”

  Sure enough, the slow drip of crimson continued until he doffed his shirt and wrapped it around the worst of the cuts on his right forearm. “Happy? You can take a pic if you like, you know, for your memoirs. Something by which to measure future boyfriends.”

  “No, thanks. I’m not interested in things that sag.”

  “What?” To confirm his self-perception, he glanced down. Everything was as it should be, tight and well defined, except for the tightening farther south. She had that effect
on him more days than not.

  “I know, but you’re too cocky. Sit at the counter and I’ll clean your scratches in the veggie sink. With age comes a decrease in your immune system, you know. Wouldn’t want you to get infected.”

  “Damn, you’re tough.” Recognizing her defensive method of pushing back made him smile. His gaze skimming her curves as she tugged out the first aid kit in the kitchen cabinet.

  With a wicked smile, she pulled out a stack of gauze and antibacterial soap. “Feel free to scream if you like.”

  “That’s my line, isn’t it?” He smiled at the blush sweeping up from her three-button polo. “Ha, there’s my apple for the day, payment for the flashing light show at O-dark-thirty.” He didn’t flinch when she used a little extra pressure to clean one of the deeper scratches.

  “Hurt?” She smiled sweetly.

  “Nah. It was worth it.”

  “Hawk.”

  “So I still remind you of a goshawk, do I?”

  “You have predator stamped in your DNA.”

  “Were you followed here?” His switch in topic gained her attention.

  “No. Absolutely not. Maybe it was one of your jealous ex-girlfriends.”

  “I don’t have any.”

  “That’s right. You have one-night stands instead.”

  “Not under my own roof.”

  “Smart man—avoids attachments.”

  “No, I’ve seen enough to know that when I do bring a woman here, it’s gonna be one I intend to keep.”

  “Like a pet?”

  “Like a mate.”

  “You know what they say. Practice makes perfect. How can you be sure everything’s in good working order?’

  “How’s Larado?” Since he’d never perfected the art of cross-gender platonic relationships, it amazed him that she’d held one for over a decade, through teenage angst and early adult trials.