Send Me a Hero Read online

  He turned away and picked up the phone. “Ford, I need some assistance.” He briefly explained about the threatening message.

  “You want us to do what?” Ford growled.

  “Fingerprint Ms. Miller’s apartment.”

  “The woman probably wrote the threat herself,” Ford said. “You’re wasting the department’s time. When are you going to quit thinking with your hormones?”

  Nathan reined in the curse word on the tip of his tongue. Hadn’t he told his former partner, Rick, the same thing? But Rick hadn’t listened. And now he understood why. Rick had been just as mesmerized by that girl, Melissa, as he was by Veronica. Rick had made a fatal mistake in trusting a suspect. Was he falling into the same trap?

  And whether he liked it or not, somehow he and Ford had to learn to work together.

  “You know if you’d stop running every time that woman called, she’d quit pulling these pranks,” Ford said snidely.

  “Just do it,” Nathan snapped. “And don’t take all day about getting here.” He slammed down the phone, then glanced up and saw Veronica watching him, her expression unreadable.

  “Thank you for checking into this,” she said quietly.

  “I’m going to find out who’s doing this,” Nathan said. Even if it’s you.

  But deep down, he couldn’t believe it was. Then he thought about Scroggins and what he’d said about Veronica’s father’s files being burned after his death. The coincidence was too neat and tidy to be a coincidence. And he already had two suspects with motives to threaten her—Veronica’s old boyfriend and Wayne Barrett. Maybe she was an innocent pawn in someone else’s twisted game. Maybe she really did need his protection. He’d be a fool not to listen to his own instincts.

  “I’d like to talk to your secretary,” he said, hesitating.

  “Sure.” Veronica dialed Louise’s home phone and explained about the break-in.

  Nathan heard Louise’s shriek.

  “I’m fine,” Veronica said. “But Detective Dawson wants to ask you about the locksmith.”

  He didn’t hear Louise’s reply, but Veronica handed him the handset. “Ms. Falk, which locksmith company did you use?”

  “Rogers Locksmith,” she said. “Why, good gracious, I can’t believe this has happened. I watched him change the locks myself.”

  “And it was just the two of you?” Nathan asked.

  “Well…” Louise hedged. “I mean there are other people who work for the man’s company, but he was by himself at Veronica’s.”

  “It’s strange,” Nathan said. “Veronica’s apartment has been broken into twice, and there was no sign of forced entry. It’s almost as if the intruder had a key.”

  “I don’t know anything about that,” Louise said, sounding slightly defensive. “I only phoned the man, Mr. Dawson.”

  Nathan paused at her haughty tone. Could Louise be involved? What motive would she possibly have? He shook himself from his thoughts, remembering how upset Louise had been when Veronica had received the music box. He heard the doorbell and hung up. Veronica let Ford and a young, uniformed officer in. He saw the wide frown Ford gave Veronica and noticed her posture go rigid in defense. He wondered what kind of lawyer she was, probably pretty forbidding if her dark eyes were angry instead of frightened. When she met his gaze, he almost smiled at the display of bravado she showed his partner. She was used to dealing with people like Ford. She wasn’t going to let him intimidate her. Good.

  “Make it quick,” he heard Ford tell the young officer as he began dusting the mirror. Ford put on his own gloves and began combing the place. “Is there anything missing, Ms. Miller?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Why don’t you look around?” Nathan suggested.

  Veronica started to pick up some books off the table.

  “Don’t touch anything, just check and see if anything’s been stolen,” Ford said.

  Nathan glared at Ford. “I’ll walk with you, Veronica.”

  She nodded and walked through the kitchen, then the bathroom and the den. Her gaze rested on an antique mahogany desk in the corner. “It looks like someone’s been through my desk.”

  Nathan studied the sleek wood and the modern computer, the closed drawers. It looked neat to him, definitely not as if it had been ransacked. “Why do you think that?”

  “My disks have been moved,” she said. “I keep them in alphabetical order.” She pointed to the file box. Some of the disks were upside down and they definitely weren’t in any order.

  “They’re also color coded according to the files I’m working on at the present—completed files, cases pending. See, they’re all jumbled.”

  Nathan motioned to Ford. “Dust this case inside and out. If there’s anybody else’s fingerprints on them, I want to know.”

  Ford grumbled but followed his instructions. Nathan noticed Veronica’s pale face. She looked tired and weary, and suddenly he wanted to see her away from this apartment, and away from her office, where she wouldn’t be so strained. “How about we go get a bite to eat? Chinese sound good?”

  A look of surprise crossed her face as her eyes met his.

  “There’s something I want to talk to you about,” he said, realizing he was making up an excuse to spend more time with her.

  “The case?”

  Nathan nodded. Oh, well, he thought as she went to change clothes, the case was as good an excuse as any.

  “I NEED TO STOP by my place and get my wallet,” Nathan said when they were in the car. Veronica nodded, and he drove the short distance in silence. “Come on in. I want to check my messages.”

  As soon as they entered, Nathan regretted the decision to invite her in. His place was a mess. His black lab greeted them by thumping his tail on the floor and whining for food. “Hey, there, Chocolate,” he said, stroking his head.

  “Pretty dog,” Veronica said, petting his back. The dog nuzzled her hand, flopped onto the floor and rolled over with his legs sprawled.

  “He wants you to scratch his belly,” Nathan said.

  She laughed and knelt down, then rubbed Chocolate’s stomach. His tail thumped in response.

  “Sorry the place is such a mess. I haven’t been here much lately.” He grabbed clothes and newspapers and shoved aside an empty can of dog food as he tried to clear a path to the sofa.

  He saw Veronica take in the sparse furnishings, the tattered, out-of-date sofa, the socks balled up on the floor. “Looks like you need a housekeeper,” she said.

  Their gazes locked. Nathan grinned. “I need more than that.”

  He saw the hesitation in her eyes and wished he could retract his statement. “I’ll check my messages and get my wallet,” he said quickly, and left the room. He returned to find Veronica staring at a photo of his parents.

  “They died a few years ago,” he said quietly. “A car wreck.”

  “No brothers or sisters?”

  “Nope, just me.”

  She placed the photo back on the scarred-pine end table. “I’m sorry. I know how that can be.”

  Feeling uneasy at the sympathy brimming in her eyes, he motioned her to the door. “Come on, let’s go eat.”

  As they drove to the restaurant, Veronica watched the buzz of cars rush by, heard the sound of horns and engines. She imagined what her life would be like without the chaos she’d encountered since she’d arrived in Oakland. In Florida, she’d felt some semblance of being a normal, respected attorney. There, no one knew about her past.

  Here, she felt like one of the yellow traffic lights that were now blinking and blowing in the wind, warning people to approach with caution. Perhaps she should forget her search into her past. Perhaps she should go back to Florida.

  And to Ron. Where everything was safe.

  She stared at Nathan’s strong, chiseled profile, and a sliver of desire curled low in her belly. She could still feel the imprint of his touch when he’d held her. His strong masculine scent invaded her senses, reminding her that he was a
man of action and power, not one who wanted to impress people. An honest man, one who protected and served the people, one who put his own life on the line for the sake of the town.

  How could she ever go back to Ron after knowing Nathan? And how could she leave Oakland without confronting the very past she’d been running from all her life?

  “I hope you like spicy food,” Nathan said, pulling into the parking lot. “The Kung Pau chicken is delicious.”

  “Sounds great.” Veronica wet her lips with her tongue, a shiver of excitement skittering up her spine as she noticed him watch the movement. He put the car in Park and turned to her, his silent perusal straining her already-taut nerves.

  “What?” she finally asked.

  He shook his head. The look of need she’d seen a few minutes earlier disappeared, and she wondered if she’d imagined it. “Nothing. Let’s go.”

  A few minutes later they were seated in the dimly lit oriental parlor where Chinese lanterns and fans adorned the walls. A huge aquarium filled with colorful fish kept small children entertained while they waited for their food, and soft oriental music played in the background. Veronica relaxed and studied the menu.

  “Let’s share a couple of entrées,” Nathan said.

  Let’s share more. She bit her lip, shocked at her own thoughts. “Sure. The Kung Pau chicken and what else?”

  “You choose.”

  Veronica smiled. “Snow pea shrimp.”

  Nathan closed the menu. “Sounds great.” The waiter approached to take their order.

  “Egg rolls?” he asked.

  “Of course,” Veronica said. “And sweet and sour soup.”

  “Egg drop soup for me,” Nathan said.

  “Wine, sir?”

  Nathan arched an eyebrow.

  “I’d like a glass of Chablis,” Veronica said.

  “The same for me.” He grinned. “Well, it seems we have compatible appetites.”

  “Looks that way.” She patted her stomach. “And I’m starving.”

  Nathan’s gaze raked over her attire, lingering for a long moment on her casual silk T-shirt, then sweeping up her neck to focus on her mouth.

  Veronica cleared her throat, a blush creeping up her cheeks. “I meant I was hungry for food.”

  He leaned back in the chair and broke into laughter. The rich, deep sound filled Veronica with a heady sense of power. He covered her hand with his, and she stared at the rough, callused skin and golden hair covering his knuckles, then glanced back up at his face. His laughter died, but a slow lopsided smile curved on his lips that was so sexy she was tempted to reach out and trace his mouth with her fingers. Instead, he turned her hand over so he could look at her palm.

  “Tell me about yourself,” he said quietly.

  Veronica tensed, and he gently traced circles in the center of her palm with his finger. “You already know everything.”

  He paused, tilted her face to his and smiled with a gentleness that contrasted sharply with his hard features. The tender gleam in his eyes filled her heart with mushy thoughts she knew she shouldn’t be thinking.

  “I know some of your past,” he said in a low voice. “But tell me about living with your grandmother. Tell me about school and why you decided to be an attorney. Tell me what you like to do—besides work.”

  “Oh.”

  “Relax, Veronica. This isn’t an inquisition.” He squeezed her hand. The warm sincerity in his touch only heated her desire for more. “I’d like to know you—the Veronica that isn’t being taunted by some lunatic.”

  She forced a smile, grateful the waiter interrupted with wine and their egg rolls and soup. Reluctantly she pulled out of Nathan’s hand to take a sip of her wine.

  “Well, my grandmother was a sweet woman, a little old-fashioned.”

  “That must have made it hard when you were a teenager?”

  “What?” Veronica suddenly wondered if this was an inquisition. She had too many secrets to hide, too many things she wasn’t proud of.

  “I figured she was strict, you know, about dating.”

  “Oh, yeah. She was. But she was fair.”

  “She was good to you?” He wiped a drop of soup from the corner of his mouth, and Veronica shuddered inside.

  “Yes, she was great. She encouraged me to…to see a counselor when I was little.”

  Nathan paused, his spoon near his mouth. “Did that help?”

  She avoided his probing stare. “Some, I guess. The nightmares went away for a while. Then I got involved in school activities and things were better.”

  “Let me guess—cheerleader?”

  Veronica laughed. “Hardly. I was on the swim team.”

  “Wow, I’m impressed.”

  “You should be. I beat Ray Winterbottom every time.”

  “Who was he? Your boyfriend?”

  “No way. He was a computer genius.” She smiled and sipped some more wine. “Probably a millionaire by now.”

  Nathan grew silent and Veronica wondered if she’d said something wrong.

  “And what about law school?”

  “Easy,” she said. “I wanted to be like my dad.”

  The sudden silence between them was filled with tension. “I can’t get away from it,” Veronica finally said. “I have to face it so I can go on.”

  “Is that why you came back to Oakland?”

  “Yes. I’ve always had the nightmares. But when my grandmother died, it was like it was all happening again. That feeling of losing someone—I had to come back.”

  The waiter interrupted and brought their entrées. Nathan took a bite, then sighed. “I talked to Scroggins, the officer in charge of your parents’ case.”

  Her fingers tightened on her fork. “What did he say?”

  “Not much.” Nathan chewed another biteful of food. “I wondered if all this might be connected to your father’s death. Perhaps a case he’d worked on. So I asked him about your dad’s files. There weren’t any backups.”

  “I figured as much.” Veronica’s mind started spinning. “Do you really think all this might be connected to one of Dad’s cases?”

  Nathan shrugged. “I don’t know. So far, none of your cases from Florida show anything suspicious. I’d say right now we’ve got three possibilities. Your old boyfriend—”

  “It’s not Ron,” Veronica said matter-of-factly.

  Nathan arched an eyebrow and frowned.

  “I really don’t think it is, but go on.”

  “Barrett.”

  “That’s possible,” she conceded. “Although if he’s doing it for revenge, it’s a pretty intricate plan. Even with what he lost, the man did get away with a sizable amount of money.”

  “You’re right,” Nathan said. “But revenge is a strong motivation for a lot of people.”

  “Okay, any other theories?”

  “Maybe we should pursue your dad’s old cases. Only problem is we don’t have his files.”

  Veronica snapped her fingers. “No, we don’t. But I do have a couple of boxes of memorabilia my grandma saved for me. There might be something in there.”

  “Where are the boxes?”

  “At my apartment.”

  “And you know what’s inside?”

  Her heart skipped a beat at the thought that she might have hit on something to help. “I’ve never opened them.”

  Nathan tossed back his wine and held out his hand. “Feel like taking a look?”

  Veronica smiled and summoned her courage. She’d come to Oakland to deal with her past. The odd circumstances surrounding her had frightened her, but she was tired of being scared and alone. It was time for her to take control of her life.

  Nathan seemed like a man she could trust, at least with her past. But with her future, she wasn’t sure. She’d have to be careful not to fall for him, to guard her heart as she always had. He was a man who lived with danger every day, a man who was too experienced for her, a man who would move on when her case was over. If she got too close to him, he’d
break her heart.

  Besides, even if there was nothing in the boxes to help find her father’s killer or discover who was threatening her, going through the boxes might help her move on with her life. She accepted Nathan’s outstretched hand and twined her fingers with his, just as the waiter brought their fortune cookies. “I guess it’s about time.”

  He released her hand and broke open his fortune cookie. Veronica did the same, pausing when Nathan chuckled.

  “What does it say?” she asked.

  He grinned and kissed her fingertips. “It says romance is at your fingertips. How about yours?”

  Veronica tensed as she unfolded the slip of paper. She instantly refolded it and started to stuff it in her pocket. “Hey, let’s see,” he said, taking it from her. He eased the paper open and read aloud, “Honesty is the key to obtaining trust.”

  ON THE DRIVE HOME, Nathan tried to divert his eyes from Veronica and how tempting she looked in that sexy bit of a top and the way it clung to her breasts. And he tried to forget how nervous the fortune cookie had made her. Was she nervous because she was keeping something from him? Glancing into the rearview mirror, he noticed a dark sedan behind them. Were they being followed?

  He made a quick turn at the red light to see. The sedan turned also. He tried to make out the driver, but the windows were tinted and the sedan stayed just far enough behind them that he couldn’t get a make on the car. He eased up to a stop sign and flipped on his left turn indicator. The driver slowed and flipped on his turn signal. Nathan gritted his teeth. He was growing tired of the game. Speeding up, he pulled into the other lane and soared through a red light. The car turned at the stop light and he left it behind.

  “Was that car following us?” Veronica asked.

  “I’m not sure. I thought so.” Nathan ran a hand over his face, deciding he must be paranoid, then mentally ticked off the things he needed to do on the investigation. Follow up with the man in Florida he’d asked to check out Ron Cox. Follow up on Barrett’s whereabouts. Find out whose, if any, fingerprints turned up in Veronica’s apartment, check with the locksmith Louise Falk had used. He paused as a thought struck him. Perhaps he should also check up on Louise Falk. After all, she had had access to Veronica’s keys. And as her secretary, she could get to her files. Except the ones she kept at home. Unless those were only backup disks and she had the information on her hard drive at work. Hmm. Something to think about.