Count on a Cop 49 - Julianna Morris Read online

  “I can take care of myself.”

  Kelly met his gaze. “Your uncle taught me self-defense when I was a kid.”

  That hadn’t occurred to Ben. On the other hand, it wouldn’t save her from a bullet.

  “Show me.”

  Kelly stood reluctantly. “I don’t think this is the best idea.”

  He grabbed her arm.

  The next thing he knew, she’d kneed him in the groin and her hand was flying toward his nose. Ben jerked backward and caught her wrist.

  He stared into her determined blue eyes and wondered how many people underestimated Kelly…and if he was one of them.

  He broke eye contact, glancing down at her body. Her breasts stood out against her sweater, and the way he held her arms accentuated each curve. The discomfort in his groin turned into a different kind of ache.

  Damn.

  Dear Reader,

  I know a couple who met in high school and have been happily married for thirty-five years. They have three great kids and two beautiful grandchildren. While my friends have grown and changed over the years, they’ve also promised to grow and change together, instead of separately. Imagine being a romantic inspiration to your own family, and you’ll have a good idea of this marriage.

  I also know couples who went their separate ways because they were wrong for each other, or because they weren’t ready to make a real commitment. I’ve often wondered what would happen if they met again after the years had changed them. Would they fall in love a second time and be able to make things work out? And how would they make things work? That’s the story I wanted to tell in Honor Bound, though sometimes my characters were reluctant to admit what their hearts were telling them.

  Because I love both romance and puzzles, I challenged myself to set Ben and Kelly’s reunion against the backdrop of a mystery. They’ve each experienced some of the worst life has to offer, but maybe they can rediscover the magic that brought them together in the first place.

  I hope you enjoy reading about Ben and Kelly as much as I enjoyed telling their story. May you find the magic that’s right for you!

  Sincerely,

  Julianna Morris

  P.S. I enjoy hearing from readers! Please contact me

  c/o Harlequin Books, 225 Duncan Mill Road,

  Don Mills, ON, M3B 3K9, Canada.

  Honor Bound

  Julianna Morris

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Julianna Morris has an offbeat sense of humor that frequently gets her in trouble. She has also been accused of being interested in everything. Her interests range from oceanography and photography to traveling, antiquing, painting, walking on the beach and reading (mysteries and most other fiction and nonfiction).

  Julianna loves cats of all shapes and sizes. Her family’s feline companion is named Merlin, and like his namesake, Merlin is an alchemist—he can transform the house into a disaster in nothing flat. And since he shares the premises with a writer, it’s interesting to note that he is particularly fond of knocking books onto the floor.

  For Mom.

  You’re always in my heart.

  CONTENTS

  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  PROLOGUE

  Sand Point, Oregon

  “LISTEN TO ME, BABY. You gotta quit that job,” Shanna James said, snapping her gum as she navigated the curves of the coastal road. “It’s crappy pay, anyhow. You’ll do better once you get some of that college learning.”

  Kelly sighed and stared ahead. “I want to help with the expenses.” That was part of the reason; the other part was that she needed the distraction to keep her mind off Ben and wondering what she’d done wrong.

  “I’m making good money. I can handle things.” Her mother took one hand from the wheel and fluffed her hair. Still in her mid-thirties, Shanna was an attractive woman, though Kelly thought she’d be prettier if she wore less makeup. “You know, I’m sure Nate is the one. We’ll probably get married real soon.”

  “That’s…nice.” Kelly didn’t say anything else. Her mom was always sure her latest boyfriend was “the one” and that they would get married “real soon.”

  But it never lasted.

  Shanna’s first broken heart had come courtesy of Kelly’s father. He’d gotten her pregnant at eighteen—the same age Kelly was now—before disappearing from the picture. Kelly didn’t even know his name, though she’d sometimes seen her mother crying over an old high-school yearbook. Shanna claimed they were supposed to get married after he finished his Marine basic training, but she never heard from him again.

  Kelly had been so sure it would be different with her, that her first love was real and true and would last forever. But now it seemed the only difference was that she hadn’t ended up pregnant.

  “You do good at your classes and don’t worry about working right now. Take that computer stuff,” Shanna continued. “Hell, I don’t frigging care, as long as it ain’t schleppin’ drinks. You got the ass for it, sweetie, but I don’t want you working at a roadhouse the rest of your life. It’s fine for me,” she added quickly, “but not for my baby.”

  “Mom, you don’t need to worry, I’m not going to—”

  The tires suddenly squealed as Shanna slammed on the brakes and swerved to avoid a deer running across the road. Time seemed to slow as the car spun out of control, flipping as it plowed into the guardrail.

  Kelly screamed—she thought it was Ben’s name but it could have been just an echo of the tears she’d shed for him over the past few months. She heard her mom scream, too. Then all at once there was silence.

  “Momma?” Kelly whispered.

  The car was upright again, but it lay at an extreme angle on the steep slope. An overwhelming scent of crushed evergreen filled the air and she gagged.

  “Momma?”

  Shanna didn’t say anything and Kelly tried to reach out, but her arms wouldn’t stretch that far.

  Oh, God.

  She tried to squirm free of the seat belt and debris holding her in place. Pain shot through her shoulder and chest, making her head swim. She struggled again and realized her legs were trapped beneath the dashboard.

  “Momma, are you okay? Please say something, Momma.”

  She was still pleading when a fire engine came shrieking up the road. Other sirens sounded in the distance, and then voices could be heard through the trees and over the crash of ocean waves thundering at the bottom of the hill. The voices shouted back and forth, but the words were indistinct.

  “Help is coming, Momma. We’re going to be all right, you’ll see. Oh, please say something.”

  “Is someone in there?” She heard a man’s voice call out. A minute later his face appeared through the driver’s window.

  “We’re here,” Kelly gasped.

  “Take it easy. We’ll get you out.”

  “My mother…get my mother first. She’s not saying anything.”

  The fireman pressed his fingers against Shanna’s neck. His face went still and Kelly knew he hadn’t found a pulse.

  She couldn’t breathe for a moment.

  “Er…yes…we’ll get her out, too.” He disappeared and a few moments later had forced Kelly’s door open. “Hey, there. My n
ame is Mitch Lawson. What’s yours?”

  Mitch seemed kind, but he wasn’t Ben, and it was Ben she needed. “Miss?” he prompted gently.

  “It’s…Kelly,” she said, tears streaming silently from her eyes.

  “You’re going to be okay, Kelly. I promise.”

  She wanted to believe him, but Ben had left and her mother was dead.

  How could she ever be okay again?

  CHAPTER ONE

  Sand Point, fifteen years later…

  BEN SANTONI SCOWLED AT THE television van parked outside the police station. The local media had arrived early for an afternoon press conference, the recent murders being the most excitement Sand Point had seen in years. Of course, the threatening letters sent to Mayor Stone were partly to blame.

  Ben’s frown deepened.

  Somebody had leaked information about the death threats to the newspaper. If the Gazette reporter suggested “conspiracy” one more time…

  “Hon, your fierce stare might put the fear of God in little ole criminals, but those two reporters out there don’t care,” said Vivian Cox, her voice like a rusty saw as she walked into his office.

  Ben relaxed. “Which movie hero sidekick are you channeling today?”

  “Hey, I’m an original, babycakes.”

  That was an understatement—Vivian was five-foot-nothing, her face wrinkled beneath thick makeup, and her hair dyed a brilliant red. According to longtime residents of Sand Point, she’d worked at the mayor’s office since she was eighteen, way back when her hair was naturally that color. Mayors came and went, but Viv stayed. After just a month on duty as the town’s police chief, Ben had already learned it was wise to stay on her good side.

  “What’s up, Viv?”

  “Hizonor wants to know if you’ve found the author of those, and I quote, ‘smutty mystery novels.’”

  “You mean the mayor actually bothered to read them?” Another voice queried wryly, this one low and very feminine.

  Ben’s nerves tightened. It was the town’s public affairs officer. Kelly James was the only person in City Hall who didn’t want to talk to the media, and it was her job.

  “Hasn’t read them, doesn’t intend to,” Vivian said. “Mostly he’s upset that the library is carrying so many copies. Thinks it’s a waste of taxpayer money and will ‘rot our young people’s minds.’ You know how he is on this stuff.”

  “That’s nonsense. Besides, they were donated by the publisher, not purchased,” Kelly protested. “The book-buying budget has been nonexistent the past couple of years.”

  “He still thinks—”

  “Is there a reason you’re having this discussion in my office?” Ben asked. Loudly.

  “You wouldn’t expect us to have it in the squad room, would you, Police Chief Santoni?” Kelly didn’t add “Mr. Big Shot Special Detective,” but he knew that’s what she meant.

  He closed his eyes for a long second. When he’d accepted the position in Sand Point, Oregon, he’d never expected to find Kelly James working for City Hall.

  That is, Kelly James Lawson.

  He kept forgetting the “Lawson” part, having known her as the skinny, thoroughly annoying, kid next door when he’d visited his aunt and uncle in Sand Point. Well, except when they were eighteen and ceased hostilities long enough for each of them to discover how the other tasted. By then she’d become a leggy blond armful…who’d gotten engaged to another man just months after their summer of hot-and-heavy dating.

  Hell, he shouldn’t have gotten his teenage ego in a twist over the whole thing—it wasn’t as if he’d asked her to wait for him. Why wouldn’t she take the easy route and get married after her mother was gone? People were mostly out for themselves; the trick was guessing how far they would go to get what they wanted.

  When Ben opened his eyes he saw Kelly and Viv watching him, so he plastered a noncommittal expression on his face. It was just his luck that Sand Point’s police station was in the same building complex as the mayor’s office, otherwise he wouldn’t have so many visitors.

  “Kelly, our beloved mayor thinks those books are smutty because folks are so eager to read them, and because of the provocative shadows on the dust jackets,” Vivian said. “They couldn’t possibly be popular because they’re exciting and well written.”

  Kelly sat on the corner of the desk with her back to Ben. “How can shadows be provocative?”

  Viv winked. “A man and a woman? They’ve got to be about sex. That’s how Hizonor sees it.”

  Feeling ignored, which undoubtedly was Kelly’s intention, Ben lifted his copy of Deep Water and examined the cover. Those weren’t shadows; they were human figures blurred by blue water. The art was suggestive, but not in bad taste. The cover of the second novel, Deep Sea, was slightly more explicit than the first, but after what he’d seen as a Los Angeles street cop and homicide detective, it was pretty tame.

  “You’d think the mayor would be more worried about the murders and getting hate mail than some books,” Ben interjected.

  “He’s worried,” Vivian admitted grudgingly. “Just covering it up. This is an election year. He wants to project the image of a strong moral leader.”

  “Speaking of which,” Kelly said, “I think you should run for office, Viv. A lot of people would vote for you. I even heard someone discussing it at lunch the other day.”

  Viv looked appalled. “I’m not an idiot. I like being a public servant—full benefits and I don’t have to reapply every four years.”

  Ben hid a grin.

  Viv was smart, the mayor self-righteous and Kelly the curvaceous pain-in-the-ass widow of a local hero. God, he’d heard enough about Mitchell Lawson’s heroism to last a lifetime. There was even a plaque honoring the man in front of City Hall, lauding him to the skies. Lawson may have been a nice enough guy and a brave fireman who died in the line of duty, but nobody was that pure of heart and mind. Ben tossed Deep Water onto a nearby shelf. Tonight he’d have to read more than the first chapter and flyleaf. The death threats against Mayor Stone had referenced the books—something the Sand Point Gazette had focused on the past few days. The paper was trying to connect the dots between the real murders and the fictional ones since the elusive, bestselling author claimed to be from the local area and there were some similarities to the crimes. Ben just wished that they’d stop making people paranoid by talking about it.

  Unfortunately—he checked the scene outside his office—the mayor wasn’t the only one who couldn’t resist the lure of temporary fame. Even fame on a small scale. His squad room was filled with employees primping every ten minutes in case they were interviewed and made the nightly news.

  The men were the worst.

  He had never seen a sorrier group of starched and pressed officers. If the crease on Detective Lasko’s collar got any sharper he’d cut his throat.

  “You’re taking the press conference, right?” he asked Kelly. “Press conference” sounded grander than it really was—a few reporters, a photographer and a cameraman—but the mayor loved making it seem important.

  She sent a careless glance over her shoulder. “Sorry, I won’t be there. Mayor Stone wants his stalwart new police chief at his side, assuring the public that the guilty party or parties will be caught. Isn’t it lucky you have all of those big-city crime-solving skills?”

  Big city?

  Sheesh.

  Kelly knew he preferred city life. Okay, so he’d been less than tactful about the town a few weeks ago when talking to his uncle, the former Sand Point police chief. How could he have known she was in the kitchen, visiting his aunt? You’d have thought he’d spit on the flag the way she’d blown up at him.

  “Give it a rest,” Ben growled.

  “Give what a rest? I was simply extolling your credentials as police chief,” she said, ice glinting in her eyes. Making peace was a smart idea under the circumstances, but it would clearly take a while.

  “Fine. Whatever. Any special mayoral guidance for handling the press?” he
asked.

  “As usual, he doesn’t want you to bring up Deep Water or Deep Sea, but if they bring it up the mayor’s response will be ‘no comment,’” Kelly said. “He wants you to be as brief as possible and downplay any resemblance between the books and the dock murders.”

  “Why? Because he thinks they’re smutty?”

  Kelly shrugged. “He feels connecting the novels and the murders sensationalizes everything even more, which is bad for tourism. Tourist dollars are important to the Sand Point economy.”

  “Especially in an election year,” Ben snapped. “Your mayor is being irresponsible. He doesn’t care about solving the murders, just about the publicity. For all I know, he’s the one who leaked the story about receiving death threats so he could get the attention.”

  “Phillip Stone is your mayor, too, Police Chief Santoni. You’re either a member of our community, or you aren’t.”

  Ben cursed silently.

  When would he learn to be quiet?

  Uncle Henry had said the same thing, in a different way. It blew Ben’s mind that Henry Jefferson could have gone from being a Europe-based CIA bureau chief to a police chief in a small coastal town in Oregon. Purely by choice, too—Uncle Henry and Aunt Gina had never had kids, so he hadn’t needed to worry about raising a son in the city as a single father, with the unpredictable hours of a homicide detective.