Her Lawman Protector Read online

  “I wasn’t choosing sides. I was just...going through the motions. Look, Liv—I never approved of what Evan did to you. But I do aim to stay out of other people’s relationships. No good can come of sticking your nose in where it doesn’t belong.”

  Frankly, a small and petty part of him had been thinking that he’d be glad to step in if Evan was going to walk away. He was still single at thirty-five, but not because he hadn’t been looking around at his options. But then they’d started investigating Evan and discovered that Liv had been delivering paperwork to the fraud victims. And he’d been disappointed in a way that stung and made him angry. She wasn’t supposed to be like her ex, but it looked like she was in this hip deep.

  Liv picked up a book from a box on the counter and then headed for a shelf at the back of the store. She walked her fingers across the spines of the volumes already on the shelf. When she spoke, emotion choked her voice.

  “Did you know he was cheating on me?”

  She slid the book into place, then turned toward him. Some of the color had drained from her cheeks, and Jack heaved a sigh. Getting into this wasn’t going to help his cause here...but then again, if they could get this out of the way, she might trust him a little bit more.

  “I did,” he confirmed.

  She nodded briskly, then came back to the counter, reaching into the box again.

  “The messenger gets shot in these sorts of situations,” he added. “You know that.”

  “Everyone knew, didn’t they?” She tapped another book against her hand, and irritation snapped in those green eyes.

  “A lot of people knew,” he confirmed. “And a lot of people told him he was making a mistake.”

  “Did you?”

  No, he hadn’t. He’d never been that close to Evan, and Jack didn’t like wasting his breath. Besides, he’d been afraid that his attraction for Liv would be obvious if he started in on Evan for his cheating ways, and he wasn’t exactly proud of the fact that he felt that way about someone else’s wife. Jack was the kind of guy who believed in right and wrong—it was why he’d become a cop to begin with. And lusting after a married woman fell solidly into the category of wrong. Too bad Liv wasn’t as different from her ex as he’d thought back then.

  “No, I didn’t lecture Evan on his personal failures,” Jack replied. “And I know that isn’t a whole lot of comfort to you right now, but the thing is, if a man needs his colleagues to reprimand him into monogamy, he’s not much of a man.”

  Liv was silent for a moment, then nodded. “I agree with that.”

  “And for what it’s worth, I have no idea how he strayed when he had you to come home to.”

  Besides the fact that they seemed to share a knack for real estate fraud. Jack’s department had found more evidence that pointed to her involvement in Evan’s schemes—this very bookstore, as a matter of fact. Complaints about some deeply unethical behavior during the purchase of this property five years ago had sparked their suspicions. They’d had enough to start a formal, albeit undercover, investigation six months ago, and their digging had brought them to Liv.

  “Too bad Evan didn’t feel the same way about monogamy,” she said bitterly. “Whatever. It’s in the past, and this is a fresh start.”

  How fresh, though? Was this a part she was playing—stung woman starting over? Or was her fresh start going to involve a nice influx of cash? If she and Evan were parting ways in business now, Evan might owe her an awful lot.

  “I’m just curious,” he said. “When did you buy this place?”

  “Evan and I bought it about five years ago,” she replied. “Evan figured it might be a good investment, and I’d been hoping to put it to good use. Never thought that would be after our divorce, of course, but...” She shrugged. “I asked for this building when we divided our assets.”

  “Evan was okay with that?”

  “This is Eagle’s Rest. We bought it for a song from an old woman who needed the money. In exchange for this place, I didn’t contest some other stuff. So Evan was happy.”

  That was strange, considering that Evan had gone out of his way to buy as many surrounding properties as possible. But he’d let this one go? Maybe Liv wasn’t planning on parting ways with her ex when it came to their scam, after all. Money might mean more than wedding vows to some people.

  “So Evan cheats on you, and you accept a piece of worthless property?” He wasn’t supposed to be cross-examining her, but he was curious how she’d defend that.

  “It’s not worthless,” she retorted. “It’s chock-full of sentimental value. I was looking at the life I wanted now that I was single, and I wanted to come home. Besides, there’s something to be said for low property taxes—especially when you’re just starting out.”

  “Has he shown any interest in this place since?” Jack asked.

  She shook her head. “No. Look, Jack, I’m not Evan’s biggest fan right now, but he has no reason to try to scare me away from this store. I’m out of his way. He’s got the woman he wants, and he’s got Denver. Frankly, I think he’s glad to be rid of me.”

  Before Jack could think too deeply about her defense of her ex-husband, Liv glanced at her watch. “I’ve got to finish up with these shelves before lunch.”

  That was a dismissal—he could hear it in her tone. Should he push it today? Maybe not...

  “Okay,” he said. “But I want you to keep your doors locked and your alarm system activated for the time being.”

  Her cheeks colored. “I don’t actually have an alarm system yet.”

  So the sign in the door’s window was a decoy. That was good to know if they got a search warrant and they needed to take a look around later.

  “You should look into that,” he said. “And be aware of your surroundings. Make a note of anyone who hangs around or shows a little too much interest in your store.”

  “I need people to show interest, Jack.” She shook her head. “I’m opening a new business! I need customers.”

  “Trust your gut,” he replied. He was hoping that her guilt would make her gut a little more touchy than usual, and she’d call him back.

  “I will.” Liv looked like she wanted to say something more, then gave him a tight smile. “Thanks, Jack. And you guys will be patrolling this street, right?”

  You guys. She was still banking on the rest of the police force here.

  “You bet,” he replied, pulling a card from his pocket. “I’ll be in touch. In the meantime, if anything seems weird or uncomfortable—day or night—you call me.”

  She took the card from his fingers, her gaze lingering on his for a beat longer than necessary. She looked worried, and while he was only doing his job in an undercover fraud investigation, he felt a faint pang of guilt. The testosterone-fueled part of him didn’t like tricking a woman into letting him get closer. In fact, while it was perfectly legal to be dishonest in order to get a confession out of a suspect, it never felt morally comfortable to him.

  Still, these were the tactics available to the police, and what was worse: some dishonesty to catch a criminal, or letting a criminal go to victimize someone else? When someone was trying to lie and deceive, they didn’t tend to come clean with straightforward questioning. Like any undercover operation, there was going to be some deception. A lot of people from his community growing up in a poor section of Denver had been the victims of some illegal police deception in the past, so it was a little harder for him to rationalize it away. Still, for all he knew, he was saving Liv’s life before she got in too deep to some criminal ring. There were some seriously scary people who would do anything for a big enough payout. And he was pretty confident that she was in league with them.

  “You’ve got my number there,” he said.

  “Thank you,” she said, then licked her lips. “I appreciate it.”

  “I mean that.” He caught her gaze and held it
. “You call me.”

  Liv nodded and glanced away. He’d done what he could today—planted a few seeds. He’d suggest to the chief that they leave another threatening letter overnight just to complete the process. Undercover operations required some careful setup, and she was still a little resistant to letting him in closer.

  Jack headed for the door and pulled it open. “Take care now, Liv.”

  And when he glanced over his shoulder, he caught those clear green eyes fixed on him, her lips slightly parted and her cheeks pale. She clutched a book in front of her in a white-knuckled grip.

  Blast. He wasn’t supposed to be feeling anything more than professional satisfaction at what he’d accomplished today, but instead, he was experiencing a mixture of regret and pity. She was scared. Later on, his job would be to make her feel safe again—make her open up. He was looking forward to that part of the job just a little too much.

  If he was smart, he’d get these errant feelings under control. She might be beautiful, but that didn’t change the evidence.

  CHAPTER TWO

  LIV ARRIVED AT the store the next morning, half afraid she’d find another note, but the floor in front of the mail slot was bare. She sighed in relief, then took a moment to pull herself together. She wouldn’t be scared off by a coward who worked in anonymous notes. As the morning passed by, she put away the last of the books, but there were more deliveries expected. She ordered in some lunch—a slice of vegetarian pizza with a salad on the side and an order of potato wedges. She was hungry, but she was also nervous. And when she got nervous, she tended to eat. She’d always been this way, even as a kid. In her elementary school years, she’d been filled with social anxiety and was constantly peckish. She’d get on the school bus every morning with dread in her belly, and she’d have her lunch polished off before she even arrived at school.

  Back then, she didn’t have a lot to be nervous about. It was just anxiety of the general variety. She’d had friends and several first cousins in the school, so she’d never been alone. A boy had started making fun of her once, and her three older cousins had beaten him up. For better or for worse, those were days when a bloody nose didn’t turn into family counseling, and Liv had gone through school both chubby and unharassed. Some called that a miracle, but Liv had a secret—she’d mastered the art of the compliment early. But as a grown woman with a marriage in her wake, Liv was tired of people-pleasing, and she’d started mastering the art of a well-timed comeback.

  Liv popped the last of the wedges into her mouth just as someone rattled the front door. She looked up, still chewing, to see her aunt Marie peering through the window. Liv sighed and went to unlock the door.

  “Why did you lock it?” Marie asked as Liv opened the door. “This isn’t Denver, my dear.”

  Marie was a petite woman—barely over five feet tall and as trim as she’d been at twenty. She’d aged well, and at sixty, with her hair dyed a respectable brown, she could pass for five years younger.

  “Hi, Auntie,” Liv said. “Come on in.”

  Marie looked around, her gaze stopping at the greasy paper plate on the counter. “Liv, dear, you need to eat better.”

  Would Marie give that same advice to her stick-thin daughter if she’d just consumed the same meal? Not likely. This was the kind of pressure she lived under, and since her divorce she’d decided to stop apologizing for eating.

  “Do you know anyone who hates me?” Liv asked, changing the subject.

  Marie blinked. “What?”

  “Someone who hates me.” Liv slowed it down. “Or hates the idea of this bookstore...”

  “No, of course not.” Marie eyed Liv speculatively. “What’s going on?”

  “I got a threatening note. Three, actually. The police think it’s serious.”

  “Threatening what, exactly?” Marie asked.

  “Nothing specific. That if I don’t leave town, I’ll regret it. That sort of thing.”

  Marie blew out a breath. “You haven’t been toying with another woman’s husband, have you?”

  Liv burst out laughing. “I love how you always see me in the best light, Marie.”

  “I’m just... It’s brainstorming, dear. What would upset someone around here? Home-wrecking, I suppose. That’s all I can think of.”

  “I agree that home-wrecking is horrible, considering Evan’s cheating,” Liv replied drily, “but I’ve kept my own home-wrecking to a minimum.”

  “Well, it’s a silly question to begin with!” Marie said with a shake of her head.

  “Or it would be, if someone weren’t trying to scare me off,” Liv replied.

  “But this is your hometown. If anyone belongs here, it’s you.”

  Liv was forced to agree. She’d come home to lick her wounds postdivorce. A threatening note—it was weird.

  “Is it possibly a joke?” her aunt said after a beat of silence.

  “I thought so at first,” Liv admitted. “I’ve never been one to inspire this much drama, but the police think it’s something more.”

  “The police may be wrong.”

  “True. And if they aren’t?”

  “You need a man around here,” Marie said. “And that isn’t me trying to meddle. Maybe put out some big shoes so that people think you have a boyfriend or something. A male presence might help.”

  Useful. Except she did have an officer making his services available in that department. Maybe she should take Jack’s offer more seriously.

  “Anyway,” Marie went on, “we’re having a family barbecue at our place and wanted to invite you. Unless, of course, you’re too full—” She looked toward the paper plates again, and Liv’s irritation simmered back up. She was tired of the constant nagging when it came to what she ate. Yes, she was plus-size, but how on earth did that make her lunch anybody else’s business? It had been like this since she was young and well-meaning extended family tried to be a “good influence” on her.

  “There’s something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about, Auntie. I’ve been reading some articles on dementia,” Liv said, fixing her aunt with her most concerned look. “And there are brain exercises you can do to ward it off.”

  Marie coughed, the color draining from her face. “I’m sixty.”

  “I know.” Liv held the eye contact meaningfully. “Should I print off the articles for you?”

  Marie turned for the door. “No, you should not.”

  “Because if you change your mind, I’ve saved them all!” Liv called after her aunt, who hauled open the door. “There are some games that your children can play with you to help keep your mental faculties sharp, as well—there’s one with a brightly colored ball.”

  “Hilarious, Liv. Point made.” Marie shot her a scathing look over her shoulder. “I hope you’re advising your mother of these mental exercises, too!”

  “Only when she criticizes me for eating lunch,” Liv quipped.

  “Fine. I’m sorry if I offended you, but I do care. Are you coming tonight or not?”

  “Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Liv said with a sweet smile. “See you.”

  Marie stomped out of the store, and the newly installed bell tinkled cheerily at her exit. Liv smiled to herself, enjoying this brief victory. She was tired of explaining herself, her food choices, her divorce...all of it. But did she really want to attend this barbecue just to have her aunt mentally tally up her calories? She was tired of being the big girl who nibbled carrot sticks while everyone else gorged on ribs, only to make up the difference when she got home again, ashamed of herself on too many levels. No more faking it. She had to start trusting her own observations and stop worrying about everyone else’s. Easier said than done sometimes, but she had a feeling that, like most things, it was a matter of practice.

  Liv stood motionless for a few beats as her aunt disappeared down the street, and Liv’s irritation slipp
ed away, leaving her feeling mildly guilty. It was stupid—her aunt had been insulting her, and yet she felt bad for having given her a taste of her own medicine. But that’s how she’d always felt when she stood up for herself—guilty. That needed to stop, too. The door swung slowly shut but stopped a couple of inches short of closed.

  Liv sighed and headed over to see what was blocking the door. It was a small package wrapped in brown paper, Mrs. Kornekewsky written in black marker across the front. It seemed to have tipped from the corner into the doorway as her aunt left.

  Kornekewsky wasn’t her name anymore—she’d been quite happy to shed it. But someone was clinging to her marriage...

  Liv bent and picked the parcel up. She held it for a moment, wondering whether she should call Jack now or open it herself. Curiosity won out. If someone was going to all this trouble to scare her away, she wanted a clue as to who it was.

  She grabbed a pair of scissors and cut the tape, peeling back the paper to reveal a small teal-colored box. The lid came off easily, and she looked down at what seemed to be a collection of photos.

  She tipped them onto the counter, careful not to touch them this time—they were a collection of grainy pictures that looked like they were taken on a cell phone, and they showed Liv in various places about town. The grocery store, the library, at a street corner... And nothing else. No note. No explanation. She eased the pictures back into the box, clamped the lid back down and swallowed against the bile rising in her throat.

  Mrs. Kornekewsky. Her heart hammered, but under the panic was a certainty—this was connected to Evan. Somehow, maybe even in someone’s fevered mind, this was connected to her cheating ex. Was there no getting rid of him, or had their marriage entangled him in her life irrevocably?

  Liv pulled open the drawer where she’d put Jack’s card and rummaged around until she came up with it. She fumbled as she dialed, and it rang three times before he picked up.

  “Detective Jack Talbott.”

  “Jack. It’s me... It’s Liv. I got a package. Not last night...sometime today. I didn’t see anyone, but when Marie left—” She swallowed, knowing she wasn’t making sense.