Her Cop Protector. Sharon Hartley

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СКАЧАТЬ Dwarfed by scores of surrounding condo towers, she walked the landscaped path toward the Enclave’s entrance. At least she was home.

      What a disastrous morning. And she’d accomplished nothing.

      Actually, she’d succeeded in something: stressing out an already traumatized group of birds.

      She rubbed her arm, which still ached where that horrible man had squeezed. And the gorgeous raven-haired cop, Detective Hammer, had seemed more interested in ogling her than doing his job. Picturing his handsome face with its I’ve-seen-it-all-before expression, she wanted to dismiss him from her thoughts but couldn’t. There had been something about him, something darkly vital that warned her as surely as the noisy bell at the pet shop.

      Of course she’d email her photos to Agent Gillis, but by the time Fish and Wildlife noticed, the birds could be shipped to California.

      Would Glover harm them? She hated to think he’d dispose of living creatures to avoid a fine. But why wouldn’t he? He obviously didn’t care that intelligent animals had been wrenched from their jungle homes, shipped under dreadful conditions a thousand miles away and then cooped up inside a tiny prison. And to think she’d even helped round up the darlings and placed them back in jail so Glover couldn’t break a wing, the whole time acutely aware of the detective’s intense blue eyes scrutinizing her movements. Hammer had even helped her corner one African gray parrot.

      So she’d only made matters worse for the birds. Maybe she should listen to Agent Gillis and stop her commando raids to gather proof. Unless...well, maybe Glover wouldn’t be so quick to deal with poachers next time one approached him. That was something, wasn’t it?

      Something, not much. But no, she couldn’t stop. She had to try.

      The condo’s automatic doors whooshed open, and she entered the chilly elegance of the Enclave’s lobby.

      “Why such a sad face, Junie?”

      Jerked from her tumbling thoughts, she nodded to Magda, the condo’s dark-haired, eagle-eyed concierge seated in her usual spot behind the sleek oak counter.

      “My goodness,” Magda continued in her lilting accent, “you look like the condo association made you get rid of Lazarus.”

      Alarm shot down June’s spine. Nothing happened in this thirty-story building that Magda didn’t know about first. “Has there been another meeting? What have you heard?”

      Magda held up long, manicured fingers. “I was kidding.”

      June blew out a breath. Not funny, but Magda couldn’t know how worried she was about that rumor. Among others. “Good.”

      Magda leaned forward, resting on her forearms. “So, what’s wrong, sweetie?”

      “Just a rotten morning,” June said. The less said about her investigative activities, the better.

      “Were your buses late again?” Magda persisted.

      “Actually, the system stayed on schedule today.”

      Magda shook her head. “I don’t know how you manage to get around Miami on a bus.”

      “You just have to make that commitment,” June said and then added with a grin, “and allow enough time.”

      “I need my car. Will your uncle be at the Labor Day party this year?”

      “He hasn’t decided.” June removed her key from her purse and stepped to the bank of mailboxes on the wall left of Magda’s position. “The weather’s been great in New York, so he’s not sure he wants to come when it’s so humid here.”

      “So, when was the last time you drove the Cobra?”

      June paused in removing mail from her slot. When had she last driven Uncle Mike’s antique gas-guzzler? She’d promised to fire it up at least once a week. She grabbed mail and stuffed it inside her bag. “Thanks for the reminder. Guess I’m going down to the dungeon later.”

      Magda’s face wreathed in a maternal smile. “I know you hate the parking levels.”

      “What would I do without you, Maggie Mae?”

      Magda blushed, looking pleased. “Oh, you do fine, Junie.”

      “The jury is still out on that. Will I see you at the pool later?”

      “Of course,” Magda replied, buzzing June through the security door to the elevators.

      Stepping inside a waiting car, June punched PH and swiped her fob to allow the elevator to ascend to the thirtieth floor. She closed her eyes as she was gently swept upward—like the wings of a bird flying up to her private aerie in the sky.

      No, she reminded herself, opening her eyes. Her uncle’s aerie. A temporary refuge. She must never forget this luxury didn’t belong to her. Not anymore. Not for a long time.

      And really nothing had ever been hers. Greed had been her parents’ downfall. Had she once been like them? She couldn’t remember.

      What did it matter anyway? Nothing she remembered from her idyllic childhood had been real.

       CHAPTER TWO

      DEAN RUBBED EYES strained from watching grainy surveillance video and leaned back in his chair. He’d played the bird-shop security video four times since returning to the station. It backed up June Latham’s version of events.

      She and the mystery man hadn’t entered the premises together. He’d released the birds while the owner confronted June. She never spoke to the guy before he rabbited out of the store.

      Dean lifted his mug from the table and swigged cold coffee. Why the hell did the guy open those cages? Maybe he got religion from the sight of Ms. Latham and decided to help her cause. Dean snorted. That was as likely a reason as any. Who knew why citizens did anything anymore?

      And why did he give a fig about June and her smuggled birds? He’d told his rookie the review was good training. Yeah, right.

      “I don’t see a crime to investigate,” Sanchez said beside him.

      “Not by the woman,” Dean said.

      “Glover won’t be happy.”

      Dean nodded, remembering the shop owner’s sputtering outrage when June walked free. Hell, even if he tracked down this bird liberator, what would be the charge? A misdemeanor—malicious mischief or some such nonsense. Hardly worth the police’s time. “He’ll get over it.”

      “Do you think Glover’s birds are illegal?”

      “Who knows?” Dean shrugged. What he really meant was Who cares? “Not our jurisdiction. But I told the woman I’d send my report to Fish and Wildlife.”

      A grinning Detective Lloyd Miller entered the viewing room with a steaming mug and glanced at the scene frozen on the monitor. Dean knew what Miller saw. Escaped parrots covering the floor and shelves of the North Beach Pet СКАЧАТЬ