Yuletide Protector. Julie Miller

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СКАЧАТЬ going to see this job through to the bitter end, aren’t you, Spence.”

      “Yes, sir.”

      “I knew there was a reason I made you point man on the task force.” Mitch Taylor might be graying at the temples, but the man was still the powerhouse of the Fourth Precinct. He was the boss whose recommendation could make or break a promotion. Spencer respected the dedicated cop who’d worked his way up the ranks at KCPD. And since his goal was to do the same, getting asked to do a favor for the boss was an opportunity he didn’t intend to squander.

      “I appreciate the faith you had in us, sir.”

      “Your work isn’t done yet,” the chief reminded him, referring either to the outcome of Brian Elliott’s trial or the task force’s ongoing search for the Rose Red Rapist’s accomplice—a woman they’d dubbed The Cleaner because of her efforts to destroy evidence and take out witnesses to Elliott’s crimes. “You remember our chat yesterday?”

      I want you to check in on Miss Austin from time to time. Make yourself available to her in case anything comes up that could spook her out of testifying against Elliott.

      “I do.”

      Spencer had walked out of Chief Taylor’s office understanding his mission. The Cleaner hadn’t shown up on their radar since they’d made the arrest and the rapes had stopped. But then Elliott had been under KCPD’s watch 24/7 from the moment his ex-wife had posted bail. Their vigilance might have driven the accomplice underground or out of town—or maybe whatever sick relationship the woman shared with a serial rapist had failed now that he was no longer able to commit the crimes that had terrorized Kansas City for several years. Or, as both Mitch Taylor and Spencer suspected, the woman could be biding her time, waiting to make some big move to save her man again.

      Until The Cleaner was identified and put out of commission, Spencer intended to keep his task force on full alert. Scoring a few points with the boss along the way couldn’t hurt, either.

      The chief gestured to the group filing out of the look-at room behind Bailey. “I take it you know everyone here?”

      Spencer nodded. While he couldn’t claim to be friends with anyone in Bailey’s entourage, they were certainly well acquainted. “We’ve met several times. On this investigation and the Rich Girl Killer case.”

      “You closed that one for me, too.” Mitch Taylor praised him before winking a brown eye at Bailey. “I leave you in good hands, Miss Austin.” The chief turned and hurried down the hallway after D.A. Powers. “Dwight, wait up.”

      While Bailey hugged her purse and coat to her waist, waiting expectantly for him to explain why Chief Taylor had asked him to chat with her, a protective force of allies circled behind her.

      Loretta Austin-Mayweather’s disgusted snort was audible, her blue eyes unforgiving. “Jackson, please. I’d like to go home. I have nothing to say to this man. Bailey, come.”

      Yes, he’d brought the Rich Girl Killer murder investigation to their home, and had been obligated to interrogate each and every one of them. And though Bailey’s brother, Kyle Austin, hadn’t ultimately been the murderer Spencer had sought, he had been guilty of other crimes, including embezzlement, stalking his own stepsister and kidnapping. And the real killer, who hadn’t appreciated a copycat using his M.O., had ultimately murdered the Austin heir while he’d been in prison.

      Since Spencer had no children—no family at all, to speak of—he supposed he couldn’t truly understand a parent’s loss of a child. He could only play whipping boy and hold back the reminder that without KCPD’s intervention, the entire Mayweather family might have fallen victim to Kyle Austin’s desperate actions and the killer who’d threatened them.

      “Detective.” Jackson Mayweather’s acknowledgment was more civil, but clearly the man had a meeting to get to, or an eagerness to defuse his wife’s displeasure, because he looped his arm around Loretta’s shoulder and started down the hallway. “Come along, dear. I’ll have the driver meet us at the front door.”

      “Bailey.” Loretta practically clicked her tongue, calling her daughter to join them.

      Despite a deep sigh that indicated she was schooling her patience, Bailey simply smiled and turned her head. “Detective Montgomery is the leader of the Rose Red Rapist investigation. He probably needs to discuss something with me.”

      Harper Pierce, a tall, blond piece-of-work who’d stonewalled more than one KCPD investigation with his legal acrobatics, placed his hand at the small of Bailey’s back. “Then he can make an appointment. Let’s go.”

      Before Spencer could evaluate the way his own body braced at the proprietary touch, Bailey arched her back away from the other man’s hand and sent Pierce on his way. “Would you mind looking after Jackson and Mother? I know she’d appreciate the extra arm to lean on.”

      “I’m not leaving you with—”

      “Please, Harper. Go.” Her melodic voice lost its sweet tone and her body seemed to hug itself around the orange coat she clutched. So she didn’t like to be touched? Was that an aftereffect of the rape? Or was it that she just didn’t want her ex-fiancé putting his hands on her?

      Flashing a suspicious eye toward Spencer, as if he was somehow to blame for the dismissal, Harper relented. “I’ll hold the elevator for you.”

      “That won’t be necessary.”

      “Bails—”

      “I’ll walk her to her car,” Spencer volunteered, eager to send the others on their way. That’d give him a few minutes of private time with Bailey to have the conversation Chief Taylor wanted him to have with her. Then he could get back to some real work.

      “How did you know I drove myself?” Bailey arched a golden eyebrow as she turned her attention back to him.

      Spencer dropped his gaze down to the keys dangling from her fist and grinned. Easy deduction. “I am a detective.”

      A responding grin eased the strain on her mouth and relaxed some of the tension from her posture. “So you are.” The gentleness returned to her voice as she spoke to her parents and ex-fiancé again. “You all go ahead. I need to get back to my apartment and organize my portfolio for the job interview I have tomorrow, anyway. It’ll save you a stop.”

      “Can’t you put that off until another day?” Loretta sounded more irritated than hurt by her daughter’s excuse to leave them. “The Butler-Smythes are coming to dinner tonight, remember? Their son Cameron is just home from his trip to China. You know he was sweet on you back in school, and I thought—”

      “I can’t, Mother.” A rosy hue tinted Bailey’s cheeks, indicating the level of impatience or distress she was keeping in check at her mother’s efforts to plan her evening and her life. “I have errands to run before I go home. And I’m still fixing up my apartment. I want to finish painting the trim around the windows tonight.” Spencer would have stopped with a solid no, but Bailey threw in a bit of logic to salvage her mother’s feelings. “Besides, you know I’m not feeling terribly social right now. If you want me to make an appearance at your holiday gala this weekend, I need to save up my social energy to face all those people. Deal?”

      Loretta’s dramatic sigh indicated her daughter had finally come up with an excuse she could accept. “I suppose it’s a fair tradeoff. I do want you СКАЧАТЬ