Reunion Under Fire

Annie might not have expected to bring her law-enforcement therapy skills to bear this soon into her stint at Silver Threads Yarn Shop, but having a sense of purpose related to something she knew allowed a sliver of light to slant through the veil of doom she’d carried here from New York.

* * *

Joshua Avery walked through the Silver Valley Police Department, trying to remember that for the time being he was Officer Avery again and not Detective Avery. He’d asked for a temporary demotion so that he could be around more for his younger sister.

The building was unusually quiet, especially for a Friday morning. Everyone was either off, out on patrol or attending a law-enforcement conference in the next town over. He had to admit he was a little disappointed no one was around to see him back in his working blues. As a detective he hadn’t worn his Silver Valley PD uniform in more than a year, and he was grateful it still fit. He’d gotten used to his civilian clothes while he served as an SVPD detective, but had to admit that being back in uniform felt good.

“Morning, Josh.” SVPD Chief Colt Todd motioned to him to enter his office. “Don’t get too comfortable in that uniform, Josh. As soon as you get your sister settled, I’ll need you back as a full-time detective.” Tall with graying hair, Colt still looked like a man in his prime, fitness-wise.

“Yes, sir.” Josh, along with the rest of SVPD, would follow their leader through fire because of exactly this—Colt’s ability to be compassionate while still letting an employee know he thought the person was the only one for the job. Without hesitation, he’d given Josh a reprieve from the near-24/7 routine of detective work. Josh’s younger sister, a disabled adult, needed to be placed in a full-time care community, and Josh needed time to pick the right place for Becky. But Josh couldn’t afford extended leave, so going back in uniform was a good compromise for both him and SVPD.

“As for this weekend, I’ll need you to man the fort while most of the department is in Carlisle for the ROC strategy session.” Colt referred to the Russian Organized Crime deterrent conference, run this weekend at the county seat.

Josh nodded and listened as Colt ran down the issues he wanted him to keep his finger on. Since ROC had come to Silver Valley, the entire department had been putting in extra hours, scouring the community for any evidence that the criminals had sent yet another group of trafficked underage girls to the area. ROC had initiated a shipment to Silver Valley a couple of months ago, and SVPD had played a role in saving the girls, freeing them from the degrading work, legal and illegal, they’d been enslaved to before they ever touched American soil. Like the flow of ROC heroin into the area, the sex trafficking trade was relentless.

“You’re also going to be the top guy here while I’m at the conference all weekend. I’ll be back on Monday morning to check in, and of course call me with anything you need to.”

“Copy that, Chief.” He hoped the station would stay quiet so that he could go home for dinner with Becky. And to continue his search for an apartment for her, as much as he didn’t want to think about it.

“Look, Josh, I know you’d rather be in the thick of the ROC problem with everyone else right now. And I’d love to have you there. It hurts like hell to lose you as a detective, even if it’s only for a few weeks or so. I’m sorry about the setback with your sister. You’ll be working as a detective again soon.” Colt looked at him. “It’ll be no longer than a few weeks, right?”

“I hope not, Chief. The more regular hours on patrols and at the desk are better for Becky and me as we adjust to our new reality. It’s coming together. We were spoiled when she went to school every day, and then all the day camps she was eligible for in the summer. Since she graduated from high school, her requirements have changed. I’m close to finding her a more permanent living arrangement.” It killed him to say it, but he forced the words through his teeth. Becky didn’t need him as much anymore, didn’t want him as much. It was time to let her become as independent as any mentally challenged young woman could. She’d drawn a sucky hand with being deprived oxygen at birth, giving her lifelong mental difficulties that were umbrellaed under the description of Pervasive Developmental Disorder, PDD. They included developmental delays, attention deficit disorder and anxiety. To make matters worse, she’d been dealt another horrible hand when their parents had been killed in a car crash a decade ago. But she’d made the best of it and was happy, as happy as a nine-year-old in a nineteen-year-old body could be. Josh couldn’t ask for more. Except for a promise that nothing bad would ever happen to her, which he knew was impossible.

“For what it’s worth, I’m proud of you, Josh. You’ve done a fine job of raising your sister, and your parents would be pleased.”

“Thanks, Chief.” Josh stood up. He didn’t like it when people complimented him on what he’d done. It was what any other brother would do, and he never felt worthy of the praise. He did his job—he took care of his sister. “Is there anything else?”

“No, Josh. Only the usual—let’s keep it rolling and do what we can to make Silver Valley the safest place possible.” Colt dismissed him in his usual easy yet professional manner.

“Yes, sir.” Josh thought that Silver Valley’s days of suburban serenity might be over, shattered by the opioid epidemic and now ROC’s entry into the area, but he kept those thoughts to himself. And he hoped against hope that he was wrong. If it were up to him, Silver Valley would again be the low-crime-rate town it’d been when he was a kid.

After a few hours of administrative work, Josh headed for the small break area. He sent up a silent thanks for the full pot of coffee on the heating plate, and he noted the plate of cookies someone had dropped off. There wasn’t enough coffee to keep him going today. Chief Todd wasn’t someone he’d want to whine to about how the paperwork for Becky’s needs had plowed him under these past months. He’d been up all night working out the finances for Becky to be able to leave home and live in her own apartment. It’d be possible in a community with other mentally challenged adults, and he was pretty sure he’d found the perfect one for her. She’d have supervision with autonomy. It was a fine line for his nineteen-year-old sister, who still asked about their parents, long dead. Becky knew they were gone and understood that part, but she didn’t understand why she had to still feel sad about it. Lifelong sorrow was too adult an emotion for Becky. Her pain crushed him.

Josh had been at the Jersey Shore on a spring break beach getaway when he’d received the phone call that had changed both of their lives forever in that split second. There were no adults named to take guardianship of Becky, so he stepped up to the plate. Instead of continuing the scholarship to Penn State, he’d transferred to a local private school for criminal justice, allowing him to take care of Becky once she was released from the hospital. She’d miraculously survived the accident that had taken their parents. Fortunately the college had given him a hardship scholarship, and their parents had left enough to help them survive. Becky received state and federal aid, too.

Becky had suffered developmental delays almost immediately and still had emotional difficulties from time to time, but her motor skills were intact. Becky functioned completely normally, for a nine-or ten-year-old girl, socially ahead of her mental capacity, which was closer to seven years of age. She’d never grow older, emotionally. Mentally, she grasped just about everything, but lacked the practical judgment to be able to live completely on her own. As he poured a large mug of the steaming coffee, he acknowledged that it was a blessing he’d found a local program. Upward Homes would handle her disabilities, emphasize her abilities, give her a job, friends to spend time with and a chance to enjoy whatever further education she was capable of. He sipped the coffee and told himself he didn’t need the cookies. The younger officers would appreciate them more, and they wouldn’t take an extra fifteen minutes to burn off in PT as they would for him.

He knew thirty wasn’t old, but he also knew his limits. The paperwork for Becky’s application was daunting, and his protective urges were hard to let go of. But if he ever wanted to freely work as a detective again, he needed to know Becky was taken care of round-the-clock. Worrying about her being on her own at home, no matter that he had a neighborhood friend to check in on her, was stressful. For both of them.

“Officer?” Cali, one of the SVPD’s receptionists, walked into the break room and stopped in front of him. How long had he been daydreaming about how to fix Becky’s problems?

“Hey, Cali. How’s the weekend looking for you? Because I’m going to be right here at my desk.”

She flashed a quick grin, nodded. “Been there. Hey, there’s a woman here who’s asked to talk to one of our detectives. Says she’s with NYPD and showed me a badge.”

“What about?” Cookie temptation evaporated.

“A possibility of domestic violence.”

He quickly added some French vanilla creamer to his coffee, one indulgence his six-foot-four-inch frame could still handle. He was painfully aware that at thirty, his fast metabolism days were quickly fleeing.

“Send her back to my desk.”

“Will do.”

He carried the navy ceramic mug with SVPD’s gold logo stamped on it. Before he sat down a tall, willowy redhead walked up to him. His body immediately recognized who his mind struggled to believe was standing before him. The woman he’d never expected to see again. The one who’d got away. The woman his eighteen-year-old self had thought was his one true love.

Annie Fiero.

Chapter 2

Josh thanked his stars he had the seat to catch him because the sight of Annie after all these years sent him reeling. As soon as his ass hit the leather padding he shot back up, ingrained respect having nothing to do with it.

Josh wanted to be on his feet for this reunion. “Annie.”

He took her in, from the crown of her head still framed by her flaming-red hair, her catlike eyes luminous in her beautiful face and her lips—hell, her lips. He licked his own as he allowed his gaze to meander farther south, seeing how her formfitting white T-shirt under her open ivory cardigan clung to her breasts. He wished the sweater was off and he could tell if her nipples were hard, if she felt what he did. Her curves were nonstop, evidenced by how she filled out her dark, tight jeans. Pink polished toes in sandals underscored her femininity. And his reaction to it.

Damnation. He needed to get Becky situated so that he could start dating properly again. Ever since he and Christina broke up, he’d been afraid to bring another woman home. It was too hard on Becky when they left.

“Josh?” The incredulity in Annie’s voice hit him in the solar plexus. Her tone, the soft quality of her speech, was the same. As were her startlingly blue eyes. “Josh.” It wasn’t a question as she said his name the second time. The pulse at the base of her throat danced under her smooth skin.

Apparently he’d caught her by surprise, too.

“Annie.” He took his time to look her over again. Since they’d once been best friends, she wouldn’t misconstrue it for unprofessional police behavior. And damn it if he didn’t check her left hand. Bare as his. Not that it meant anything, necessarily. It didn’t matter either way. He wasn’t available, and if Becky were already situated, Annie would be the last person he’d risk his ego with. “I didn’t recognize you at first.”

She ran her fingers through her hair, flipped it lightly over her shoulder. A smile as she looked up at him. “Time marches on, right? You’ve grown at least a foot!”

He couldn’t help it, his chest puffed up at that. Not that he was immune to a woman’s admiration, but this was Annie. Her opinion had meant so much to him in high school. And still did, to his surprise. And maybe a little bit of alarm.

“Six inches is all. Had a spurt after we graduated.” He froze when he saw her eyes narrow. Oh hell... “Annie, we didn’t leave it on very good terms, did we?”

“If you call telling each other we were done, never wanted to ever see one another again...” She leaned against the edge of his desk, her long, lean lines seeming to underscore how very aware of her each inch of him was. Too aware. He maintained eye contact, hoping like hell she would, too. That she didn’t notice what she was doing to him, because if she looked at his crotch she’d know. He hadn’t had his uniform on for a day yet, and already he wanted to shove it off, show Annie just how much he’d changed. How the years had taught him how to be a man who could give her more than he’d been capable of on their bungled prom night. Her eyes studied him, too, and he forced himself to mentally detach from his reactions.

What the hell was going on with him? So what if Annie was hot? It wasn’t like he didn’t see attractive women all the time.

But none he had such a deep history with. “Yeah, we left it on crappy terms. I am sorry for anything I did that might have hurt you. We were kids, though, right?”

She sighed. “We were, but I’d like to think we shared more than the typical teen friendship.”

“I’m sure I was old enough to be more polite. I remember myself as a bit of a blockhead.” He indicated the chair next to his in the cubicle, and as she sat down so did he. “How are you doing, Annie? What are you doing? The last I heard you were in New York City.”

Her face, briefly open and almost vulnerable, snapped shut as tight as the security around Three Mile Island, the nuclear power facility only a thirty-minute drive away near Harrisburg. “I know you know I work for NYPD. Nothing escapes the Silver Valley grandmothers’ network.” She paused, an absentminded smile giving her face a soft glow. “I’m back here, though, for the time being. A few months. Running the local yarn shop for my grandmother.” She mentioned the name of the shop, one he recognized as being in the same building as a tourist adventure agency. “She recently had a minor stroke.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. She okay?” Couldn’t he sound more intelligent, come up with more than trite conversation?

Annie nodded. “Yes, she’ll have a complete recovery. A longer rehabilitation was in order, though, so my parents packed her up and shipped her to Florida, to their home in Naples. Grandma Ezzie can get whatever she needs there, from privacy to a bottle of her favorite sparkling wine.”

“Sounds ideal. But your mother didn’t want to run the yarn shop?”

“No, she thought it best she stay down there and help along Grandma’s rehab. I couldn’t argue with her. Besides, Grandma Ezzie is her mother-in-law, so the yarn shop hasn’t ever been something my mother felt particularly attached to.”

“I remember you always loved to knit when we were kids.” He couldn’t stop the chuckle that burst out of his chest. “Remember that sweater you made me in school colors?”

She blushed, and it was as if his dick felt the heat on her skin, too. He vowed to never go this long without a date again if it would keep him from making a fool of himself in front of Annie.

“I meant for you to be the envy of all the other kids, but instead made you a laughingstock. I am so sorry, Josh. You really took one for the team there. Wasn’t the body of it too short, the arms waaay too long?”

“All I remember is how warm it was at the freezing football game.” An immediate visceral image of them taking each other’s clothes off, including the sweater, in the back seat of his parents’ station wagon assailed him. And sealed his fate for blue balls.

Annie might have felt the same, but he couldn’t tell as she immediately shut down, went back into the shell he’d noticed the rare times they’d seen one another on her trips back to Silver Valley. They’d never even spoken, at most waved across a crowded mall or nodded during a Christmas church service.

“The receptionist says you showed her your badge?” He needed to make a copy of it.

“Yes, here.” She opened a leather case and showed her NYPD credentials. They looked like a badge but were in effect identification cards for her assignment as a law-enforcement psychological expert.

“So you’re a shrink to the cops?” He fought against the incredulity that bubbled deep in his chest. Because if he let her see his surprise, he had the distinct impression that Annie would clock him. Or else turn and leave with no explanation. And he couldn’t handle that, not when he’d just got her back again.

Wait, where had that come from? He’d never really had her, had he? And he wasn’t looking to “get her back.”

“I’m sorry, Annie. ‘Shrink’ is inappropriate.”

“Yes, it is. But it doesn’t surprise me that you have that kind of attitude. A lot of officers are threatened by psychology.”

He snorted. He wasn’t threatened by anything except for the real-deal feelings toward Annie that were surfacing from parts unknown. From his heart. All at once he wanted to know if she felt the heat between them, if his erection was one-sided. As he watched her, she licked her lips and softly chewed on her full, pink glossed lower lip. Yeah, he was pretty darn sure she felt it, too. Like if they didn’t crawl into bed this instant he’d spontaneously combust in the Silver Valley PD office.

How had he forgotten, shoved the memory of her to the far recesses of his mind? How had he sloughed it all off, thinking that what he’d had with her as a teen was just that, an adolescent crush? Because the fact remained that they were twelve years older, full adults, and yet Annie Fiero was the only woman he’d ever known who could make him feel like this.

* * *

Annie watched Josh’s attention shift from being totally on her to someplace over her shoulder. As much as his intense scrutiny had been flattering, it was also a relief to be able to breathe. This man was the same Josh she’d known, had the same smile, but he was far more potent. Heart-lethal, because she was already imagining what it’d be like to kiss him, and she didn’t even know if he was available. The brief thought of him involved with someone else made her inexplicably sad. Crap.

“Josh? You okay?”

His eyes were sexier than she’d remembered, shrewder, but had glazed over a bit. As if he didn’t believe her professional choice, didn’t accept the damn proof in front of him in the form of her IDs. Was it that crazy to think she’d become a police psychologist? And since when did she get so aroused by talking to a guy? Her hormones had been conducting rapid-fire drills since the instant she’d seen him across the office bay. Since before she realized it was the same Josh Avery who hadn’t been able to get the condom on after prom, giving her time to back out of their plan to lose their virginity with one another and thus ending their planned night of passion. An awkward end to an otherwise emotionally intimate relationship. He’d been the first boy she’d ever loved.

Maybe the only man, but he’d been so young. Not like he was now, all sexy muscle and deep voice conversation meant to make a woman drip with want.

“I’m great, Annie. Just thinking. You look a little peaked, though, if you ask me.” Wham. Without warning he turned the tables back on her. This was a new skill of Josh’s, because the teen she’d known was too sweet, too kind to play mind games. She shook her head.

“I’m fine. I came in here—”

“On a suspected domestic violence. Who’s hurt you?” His last word ended on what sounded like a feral growl.

“Not me. A woman who came into my grandmother’s shop.” She forced herself to calm down and stick to her purpose. “I know what signs to look for.” She didn’t have to remind him it was her job, did she?

“She told you she’s being abused?”

She recognized the practiced neutral expression, knew it intimately. He was used to people throwing accusations around, claims that if true could be lifesaving. If false, they could ruin a person’s reputation and potentially waste police time and, worse, risk an officer’s life.

“Of course she didn’t. If she’d be willing to tell me, she’d be willing to come to the police, right?” She leaned back in the chair and shoved off her thin, summer-weight sweater. It’d kept the chill of the AC off her shoulders but no air-conditioning unit could keep up with the heat wave. She rubbed her shoulders, trying to undo the myriad knots that had sprung up at the top of her back. “I do this for a living, Josh. I know you have no reason to believe me, other than you knew me a long time ago, which is why I’ve brought these.” She took out her credentials for the second time in ten minutes and handed them to him. “Feel free to call it in and talk to my boss. I’m the real deal. I see this all the time. And I saw finger marks on her throat. She’d covered them with makeup and was wearing a turtleneck. It’s ninety degrees out, Josh. No one wears heavy clothes in this heat unless they have a reason. I only got a glimpse of the bruises because of the way she leaned over. But I also saw some higher, on her jaw. Probably older ones.”

“You’re sure?” His direct look was focused, his demeanor professional. Unlike her reaction to his nearness, which was chaotic as heat rushed to her face and her nipples tightened under her lightweight T-shirt. If his gaze moved lower, he’d see her physical reaction to him, and it wasn’t from the air-conditioning.

“I’m sure.” She paused, not wanting to tell him how to do his job but needing to know Kit would get the help she needed.

“I hear you.” He nodded. “But she’s not reporting it. So even if you have her name—”

“Kit Valensky.”

“I need more information. I prefer to talk to her directly if at all possible and—wait, what did you say her name was? Valensky?”

“That’s right. You know her?”

“Not personally.” His mouth was a straight line; his fingers drummed his desktop.

“But?” She’d wait him out. He knew something he didn’t want to tell her. Or maybe couldn’t, if it was a confidential police case. She was privy to whatever she needed to do her job in New York, but Silver Valley wasn’t the jurisdiction she was assigned. Josh didn’t have to tell her anything.

“But.” He blew out a breath and looked up from his desk, his eyes back on her. “She may be related to another Valensky in town. One we keep an eye on but never seem to have enough on, if you get my drift.”

“Maybe if I could talk to one of your detectives...” She looked at his badge, his uniform. She thought Ezzie had mentioned he’d been promoted, but maybe he didn’t like detective work.

“I am your detective, Annie. All of our officers and detectives are overcommitted right now, working a big case that’s spilled over from Harrisburg and Carlisle. Silver Valley’s caught in the middle of an ROC op.”

“Ouch. That’s a lot of work for a small force.” She knew what ROC meant. They had more than their share of it at NYPD. Organized crime of any type weighed down the caseload, pushed the officers to their limits as they fought not only to keep the streets of Silver Valley clean but human trafficking, the inflow of heroin and countless other ROC-related crimes. She looked around the station. “What do you have, thirty, maybe forty officers?”

He nodded. “Thirty-seven officers, three detectives. Four when I work as one.”

“I wondered about that—I was pretty certain Grandma Ezzie had told me that you were a detective. Why aren’t you now?” She waved at his uniform.

“Personal reasons. I needed the more regular hours for the short term.” His tone was tinged with regret. Based on the energy that vibrated off him, she suspected he liked to be in the middle of a case, solving it.

“Oh.” He must have a family. She didn’t see a ring, but a lot of officers didn’t wear them. It was for practical safety as a wedding band could lead to a severed finger in the midst of an operation, and to protect their loved ones from the vilest criminals who’d stalk their families. For some reason her stomach sank, and she experienced her first wave of defeat since returning to Silver Valley. Not that she’d hoped he was single, like her. His chuckle shook her out of her emotional pothole.