Something wasn't right. Amanda McIntire trusted her instincts more than she trusted anything else. The alley was too quiet. There should be rodents around. She crouched behind a trash dumpster and moved deeper into the shadows, waiting…
Six weeks she'd been in Miami following leads that went nowhere. Somewhere in ritzy South Beach a jewelry thief was living large and thumbing his or her nose at the government. The thief had taken some legendary jewelry including a strand of cursed pearls that were distinctive because of the golden heart clasp, a pair of diamond earrings that were rumored to have been part of a pirate treasure and an emerald choker that had once been part of the treasury of a small European Principality. But that was going to end — and soon. Her partner on this assignment, Aaron Monk, was a pain in the ass. Sexy as hell and a good detective, but still a pain in the ass.
They both worked for different agencies but they were forced to work together on this case. Amanda was used to working by herself and having Aaron under foot made her edgy.
Tonight she'd slipped away from him. She worked better on her own. Always had and always would.
Something moved at the end of the alley near the fence that blocked it off. She eased toward it. Six years working for the Oracle at AA.gov had taught her all she needed to know. Her orders always came from Isis and though she'd never met the woman face-to-face, she put a lot of trust in Isis.
Isis had ordered Amanda to this remote alleyway during a hot Miami August to meet a contact that should provide her with a lead to a smuggling ring she'd been trying to break for the last six months. Her contact had been late and she'd given up hope of getting any information tonight. Until she'd heard that little noise at the end of the alley.
AA.gov looked like a normal college alumni site on the web. But the password protected section was used for covert operators like herself to receive instructions. The organization was all women and they covered cases domestically and internationally. Amanda had always worked the South Florida beat because that's where she was most at home.
A shadow moved toward her position. Amanda felt the world narrow to this alleyway and focused all of her energy on the rodent moving her way. She knew there would be one in the alley — she just hadn't counted on it being of the human variety.
She'd studied ancient martial arts all her life and had, in fact, been accepted at the prestigious Athena Academy because she had been the youngest black belt in Mok Gar. Since then she'd gone on to master twelve martial art forms.
She worked out every morning with her sensei, Jack Masters. And he was bigger than this guy moving toward her. She held her ground ready to let him go if he was nothing more than a street person.
But he paused and scanned the area around him. The way he held himself screamed of some kind of training. Was this her contact? A second person emerged a minute later.
"You're late," said the man in the shadow. His voice was husky and deep. She knew he was disguising it.
Amanda held her position. Was there a mole at AA.gov?
"Is she here yet? I've brought the package," said the woman.
What package? Amanda wondered. Were they setting her up with a bomb or explosive of some kind?
The woman was dressed in black jeans and a black T-shirt. Not exactly Miami clothing. But perfect for hiding in shadows. There was something familiar about her voice but Amanda couldn't place where she'd heard it before. She activated the recorder on her phone so she could analyze the woman's voice later.
"No. Are you sure she's coming?" the man asked.
"Yes. Her code name is Valiant. She wouldn't miss this."
Amanda sank farther back into the shadows. How did they know so much about her? She pulled her Blackberry from her pocket and text messaged Isis. Contact doubling-crossing. Bring in?
Yes. Will meet you at the bridge for pickup. Isis out.
Amanda eased her way back down the alley, using the dumpster for cover. She'd reenter so they could see her and then take them both in.
She eased her hand to the small of her back, unsnapping the holster that held her modified Glock. She felt someone behind her a second before his breath brushed the back of her neck.
"I thought I told you to leave this to the police," Aaron whispered.
She glanced over her shoulder at Detective Aaron Monk. He didn't like the fact that she was in his town working his beat and the same case any more than she did.
"Stop distracting me. I have a thief to catch."
"I'll provide backup."
"I don't need —"
"We all do," he said, placing one finger over her lips.
A thrill that was purely sensual went through her. She pulled out her gun and moved away from Aaron.
Again, Amanda kept to the shadows but this time she made a few noises, deliberately letting her boots scrape against the cement. This time there was no sound and Amanda's gut tightened. This wasn't right. She hurried to the end of the alleyway and stopped when she saw a body lying there on the ground. This must have been the package they'd been discussing.
She recognized the woman — Shelby Peters-Waterman. Her platinum blond hair was pulled off of her face in a slick ponytail. Her makeup was flawless and her bright green eyes stared up at Amanda as if in surprise. She wore a designer sundress that probably cost more than Amanda's house in the suburbs of D.C.
And around her neck was the lead they'd been looking for — a long strand of flawless freshwater pearls. Amanda leaned closer searching for the clasp. And there it was — a golden heart. It was the necklace. These legendary pearls were said to carry a curse with them. Angry with herself for not stepping out of the alley earlier, Amanda reached out and moved the pearls aside.
"Ah, hell," Aaron said, kneeling beside the victim.
"She was strangled with the pearls," Amanda said, noting that the strand was torn and a few of the pearls were missing.
"Nice touch. I'll call for the crime scene team and a coroner. Don't touch anything," Aaron told her.
"Thanks for the warning since this is my first dead body."
"Can the sarcasm, Amanda. It's not becoming." Aaron winked at her.
"Neither is a big he-man who thinks he knows it all."
"Touché."
A shot rang out from the dark. Amanda dropped to the ground, Aaron right beside her.
"Stay with the woman," Amanda said. Then she pushed herself up and took off running in the direction of the shot.
Amanda skidded to a stop at the fence and looked around. It was eerily quiet. The inky blackness was only broken by the muted lights that shined in from the street. Vaulting lightly over the fence, she landed in a crouch, her head swiveling as she took in her surroundings.
What sounded like a garbage can arguing with the pavement echoed around the alley and Amanda headed in the direction of the noise, keeping as close to the buildings as physically possible. She held her gun down beside her. Seconds later, a large tomcat jumped out of the can. Amanda exhaled as she watched the cat saunter nonchalantly away from her. It jumped on top of another can, licked its paw and looked at her.
"Damn cat," Amanda muttered, trying to calm the adrenaline rush surging through her. With a last look around, she holstered her weapon and returned to where Aaron was positioned.
Aaron looked up as she approached. "What happened?" She shook her head. "He, or she, got away." "I called the police. They're on their way." Amanda knelt beside Shelby Peters-Waterman's body. Not touching anything, she scanned the surrounding area for any clue that might help solve the theft case that had now turned into a homicide.
"You can save yourself the trouble. I already searched the entire area," Aaron told her, rubbing the back of his neck. A strident scream of sirens could be heard in the distance as a light rain started to fall. Amanda took one last look around and stood up with a sigh. "I know what I'm doing, Detective. You giving telling me to stop doing my job is not appreciated," she told him with more than a trace of frustration. "And by the way, if you ever sneak up on me again like you did earlier, you're going to find yourself flat on your back." Aaron grinned. "That could be interesting." She glared at him. "No," she assured him. "It wouldn't be. Not for you, anyway." The wail of sirens died as an unmarked police cruiser pulled up beside them. A crime scene van and the coroner's vehicle drew to a halt only seconds later.
Amanda and Aaron briefly conversed with the detectives while a photographer snapped pictures of the dead woman and the surrounding area. The pearls were bagged for evidence, and finally given the all-clear by the detectives, the coroner loaded the body into the back of the awaiting hearse.
Amanda poked Aaron in the chest. "Stay out of my way and let me do what I came here to do. I don't need a partner. I don't want a partner." "What you need and what you want are two different things," he drawled. "As long as you're playing in my backyard, Amanda, where you go, I go. Don't consider us partners if that gets your panties in a twist. Think of us as a — team." Amanda groaned. Then a smile suddenly lit her face. "I have a great idea. Why don't we play hide-and-seek? You get to hide first." His deep, rich laugh rumbled through her, doing uninvited and unwanted things. Of all the people she had to be partnered with, why did it have to someone who looked like Aaron? Who smelled as good as he did? I'm here to do a job, she reminded herself. She wasn't going to let him distract her from it.
Sighing, Amanda turned her back on Aaron. "I'm going home. Goodnight."
She walked down the block and slid behind the wheel of her car. Once again, she withdrew the Blackberry from her pocket and contacted Isis. Contact and partner gone. Package dead. Do you still want to meet? No. Will contact you tomorrow. Isis out.
Amanda started the car and waited for a lull in traffic before merging onto the road. The conversation she'd heard in the alley played in her head. Her code name is Valiant. Who could have found out that information? It had to be someone within AA.gov. Amanda was suspicious of the people and things around her by nature. She kept an eye on the rear view mirror, watching for anyone that might be tailing her. There were so many headlights, it was hard to tell. Minutes later, she pulled into the driveway of her modest home. The glow of lights from inside the house welcomed her. She sprinted up the steps and leaned forward to insert the key into the lock. The door swung open with an ominous creak. Amanda ducked to the side and withdrew her weapon. She pushed the door open the rest of the way with the barrel of her gun. The lights illuminated the destruction of her home. Cushions were ripped from the chairs and sofa, tables overturned. The contents of her desk were strewn around the room.
She edged into the house, gun in front of her, sweeping the area with her eyes. She went from room to room without making any noise. She found more of the same. Damage everywhere. The perpetrator was gone.
A floorboard creaked behind her. Amanda immediately turned and leveled a well-aimed kick right into the center of a muscular chest. The man went down like a tree being felled. She looked at the wounded figure and blew out a frustrated sigh. "You. I should have known." "You were right," Aaron groaned from the ground. "This isn't an interesting position to be in." "Serves you right," Amanda snarled as she holstered her weapon for the second time that night. "What are you doing here?" Aaron pushed himself off the floor, holding his chest. "Ow. That hurt." "Good. You didn't answer my question." "A good partner always provides back up. I'm a good partner." "You're a pain in the ass, is what you are," Amanda corrected him.
He tossed a cushion back on the sofa and sat down. "Thought you were undercover," Aaron smirked.
"I am." "Not anymore," he said, as he took in the ciaos of the room.
Amanda's cover had somehow been blown before she even reached to the rendezvous tonight—though she wouldn't tell Aaron. The main question wasn't why, but how. Was Shelby Peters-Waterman an agent? AA.gov support staff? Who else would know Valiant?
"Anything taken?" Aaron asked.
"How would I know? I just got here," Amanda snapped. She made her way through the debris. Aaron watched her for a moment, then got up and started prowling the perimeter of the room, stepping carefully so he didn't disturb anything.
The destruction didn't look methodical, like someone was searching for something. The bookshelves were untouched. One chair had been left alone, its upholstery looking obscenely perfect next to its shredded mate. But it wasn't a typical burglary, either. The ancient thirteen-inch TV was missing, but the laptop remained in its open case next to her desk.
"Everything's fine in here," Aaron called from the kitchen.
Amanda headed down the hall to the one bedroom and tiny bath, pulling out her weapon again as she walked along. The intruder could still be here, though he—or she—had limited hiding space. Amanda stood to the side and pushed the bathroom door open until it bumped the wall, then waited with her back flat against the wall so no one could surprise her from any direction. She waited some more. If they were hiding in the shower, the suspense might prompt some activity that would give away their cover. The last thing she wanted to do was rip open the shower curtain and find a gun pointed in her face.
Nothing happened. Aaron appeared in the living room archway and stopped when she held up a hand. There was no sound in the bathroom. She eased into the tiny space, then between the toilet and tub. But when she peeked beyond the utilitarian white liner, there was no one there.
She went back into the hall and moved to the bedroom. This time Aaron joined her, his own weapon drawn and held pointed at the ceiling. He leaned close to her hear and whispered, almost without sound, "Do you think they're in there?"
He meant, did she hear or see something that led her to believe they were. She shrugged, but didn't bother motioning him back this time. He seemed to know what he was doing, and arguing with him was getting tiresome. Plus, he smelled really good.
They entered the bedroom in unison as if they'd done so a million times, quickly searching possible hiding places. No one was there. Amanda relaxed and studied the room. A larger, more expensive television sat on the dresser, untouched. Her jewelry case was open, but she was wearing the only thing she kept in it, a pendant her mother had given her when she graduated from Athena Academy. The bed she'd carefully made had been tossed, the mattress askew, and the meager contents of her closet littered the room.
"You don't have much, do you?" Aaron observed.
"This isn't my home." It was only Amanda's resting place while she worked on this case, and it showed. She didn't care. It wasn't like she wanted Aaron to get to know her by the way she lived.
"So who do you think did this?" Aaron asked. "They obviously weren't here to steal your valuables. What were they looking for?"
Amanda didn't think they were looking for something. She didn't have anything except information, and if they wanted that, they would have taken the laptop. But Aaron was quickly wearing out his welcome—not that he'd had any in the first place—and she didn't want to discuss her theories.
"Thanks for the help," she said insincerely. "You can go now."
Aaron frowned at her. "Aren't you going to report this to the police?"
"Consider it reported," Amanda fired back. "Go get some sleep. If you're going to be any good to me tomorrow, you need it."
"Yeah, right," he snorted. "As if you have any intention of letting me be good to you."
The inflection he gave the words induced a flash image of the two of them messing up her bed in an entirely different way. A flush started somewhere low and worked its way up her body. Amanda turned on her heel and stalked back to the living room.
"Look," Aaron said from behind her. "This makes me uneasy. I'm not leaving you here. Your cover is obviously blown and they could be back for you."
The notion that she needed protection was hilarious, but the fact that he wanted to do the protecting touched her somehow. She couldn't remember anyone ever trying before.
"Aaron—"
Amanda stopped as she saw the glint of passing headlights reflect off of something half-hidden in sofa stuffing—Aaron saw it, too. He was closer, and got to the stuffing first.
"What the—" He pulled two small objects from the stuffing and straightened, turning incredulous eyes on her.
The window next to the front door exploded. Amanda was already in motion, and lunged at Aaron to take him to the floor. As the front of the room burst into flames, she saw what he held in his hands.
The stolen diamond earrings.
Amanda felt the sudden force of Aaron's breath as she landed on top of him, instinctively shielding him from the glittering glass and plaster that rained over them. The sound of screeching tires on the street outside added to her feeling of urgency.
"Are you okay?" Amanda shouted over the roaring of flames of the rapidly spreading fire as she scrambled to her feet.
Aaron sprung to his feet. "I'm fine. Are you?" he asked. Without waiting for an answer, he gripped her shoulder and propelled her towards the back door.
"Why wouldn't I be?" she snapped.
"I forgot, you don't need a partner," Aaron grumbled. He turned to shoot her a look, but his watering eyes held none of the casual flirtation Amanda had become accustomed to in the few short days she'd known him.
The smoke started to overwhelm them. When they finally reached the back door and staggered down the steps, Amanda gulped appreciatively at the salty night air as she sank into the cool sand of the beach. She heard the wailing of sirens heading toward her for the second time that night.
"That was fast," Amanda observed. "How did the fire department get here so quickly?"
"One of your neighbors must have called," Aaron said, plopping onto the sand beside her.
"Even if they called immediately after the explosion, the trucks couldn't have driven here that fast. I don't think whoever did this wanted us dead."
Remembering that Aaron grabbed the earrings that had drawn their attention, Amanda reached for his clenched hand and lifted it into her lap.
"I don't hold hands until the first date," Aaron said, his eyes twinkling with mischief.
"Don't flatter yourself," Amanda shot back, trying hard to repress the grin tickling at the corners of her mouth. He relaxed his fingers to expose the earrings.
The diamonds glowed an eerie amber in the firelight. "Why would someone go to all the trouble of stealing these jewels just to throw them around like this? I'm beginning to think this whole thing has nothing to do with the jewels at all," Amanda said.
Aaron leaned closer to examine them. Amanda could feel the heat of his body through the porous material of her pants. She didn't realize how comforting his nearness had been until he moved away, drawing his warmth away with him.
"Somehow I doubt they were intended as a gift," Aaron said wryly. "You're not the kind of woman that can be bought with expensive jewelry."
You could say that again, Amanda thought. Subconsciously she reached up to stroke the pendant that she always wore close to her heart. Her heart galloped when she felt no trace of the pendant beneath her sleeveless sweater. She slid her hands up her neck in a panic, feeling for the fine chain.
It was gone.
Without a thought, Amanda leapt to her feet and dashed toward the inferno, but Aaron's strong arms wrapped around her waist and held her back.
"Let go!" she yelled.
"No way. Whatever you left back there isn't worth risking your life."
"It's not too late. I can still get it if I hurry!" She pushed frantically at his firm, calloused hands but was unable to wring free of them. Aaron's grip tightened, his body pressing against her back.
"You're not going back in there, and that's final," he ordered.
For the first time since the death of her mother, Amanda felt tears prickle her eyelids. She slumped against Aaron in defeat. It would be easy to get lost in his comforting arms.
Too easy.
And it had been so long.
But Amanda wasn't here to get lost. She was here to find answers. With effort, she pulled free of Aaron's hold and trudged up the beach toward the flashing lights of the emergency vehicles.
Neighbors had already gathered across the street to take in all the excitement. Amanda scanned the faces of the morbid onlookers, aware of the possibility that the perpetrator could be among them.
"You want to wait up?" Aaron puffed behind her.
Amanda's reply froze in her throat when she made eye contact with one of the spectators. He looked familiar somehow. And she could tell by the way he smiled at her that he knew her, too.
Before Amanda could reach him, he'd disappeared.
"Where are you going in such a hurry?" Aaron called out after her.
"I…I thought I saw someone. He looked familiar, but I'm not sure where I've seen him before."
"Where do you know him from?"
"I just said I don't know," she snapped, distracted by her racing thoughts. "But I'm pretty sure I haven't seen him in a long time."
"And you think he might have something to do with that?" Aaron threw a hand back toward the fire. "Could he be the man in the alley?"
"I don't know," Amanda frowned, trying to drag the face back from her past. She failed and shook her head in irritation.
"Well if he's a bad guy we should have a mug shot. How about a romantic evening going down memory lane? You and I can look at snapshots together."
Amanda started to round on him and then laughed, some of the tension caused by the evening's events beginning to ease.
Aaron grinned back, knowing he had found a chink in her armor. "Okay, then let's get out of here. I'll take you down to the station."
"No, you won't," Amanda objected. "I can get there myself and I don't need you to help me ID the guy." Amanda turned back to the fire and walked away from Aaron. He let her go with a sigh.
When Amanda arrived at the station she was annoyed to find Aaron already there in front of the computer at his desk. "What are you doing?" she asked.
"I know I didn't see the guy but he seems to have it in for you. If he's linked to this case, I'm involved whether you like it or not. And," he delayed Amanda's retort, "if you do a sketch, I can help you find him."
Amanda didn't relish the idea of looking through files of suspects and she knew Aaron's help would be useful. She had another idea, though. "You can help me later," she said. "While I narrow the field down on the suspect, why don't you find out more about Shelby Peters-Waterman?"
When Aaron frowned, she continued, "Look, she was strangled with the pearls. Someone knows their history. What connection does she have to them?"
Aaron smiled appreciatively. "Lateral thinking? Good girl."
Amanda glared back at him. "Careful. I can floor you again anytime."
"I prefer the tackle to the flip. That was fun, having you on top," Aaron smiled. As Amanda started to get up from her seat Aaron held up his hands in mock surrender, "Okay, okay. Relax. I'll get started on the Peters-Waterman angle."
Amanda turned to the computer in relief. She was getting used to his banter but didn't want to welcome it. At least she seemed to have diverted him a bit so she could be left alone to connect the man in the crowd with her past. But after a few minutes of searching the database, Aaron turned back to her. "Why have you got me looking into the jewelry angle when you think it might have nothing to do with it?"
"It was just a thought," Amanda shrugged, trying to pass it off.
"Oh, yeah? So why do I get the feeling you're holding something back?" Aaron shot at her.
"Look, I'm not used to sharing every thought in my head. If I forgot to tell you something, well I'm sorry, but you'll have to just accept that that's the way I am."
"Sure, whatever you say. But why were you in the alley tonight? Why would someone plant the diamonds on you? And how come Shelby's granddad has the same last name as you?"
This made Amanda jump.
"You heard me, Miss McIntire. Her grandfather was a one Andrew McIntire."
"What?" Amanda felt thrown off balance.
"It says it right here in her file. Did you know?"
"No, of course not!" Amanda snapped. This case was suddenly getting very personal. Someone knew her codename, someone knew where she lived, and a familiar face in a crowd had grinned at her. Did they make some kind of a connection between her and the murder victim?
"It's a coincidence," she said slowly, thinking it over. She rubbed a hand over her eyes. When she looked up she saw Aaron watching her.
"You're tired, I'm tired. It's late and we've had a long, hard night. Let's take a break," Aaron said.
Amanda nodded. She had to wait for Isis to contact her. If she could just stay out of harm's way until then. Hopefully she could still find a decent room at this hour.
"You'll stay at my place," Aaron told her as if reading her mind. When Amanda shook her head, he went on firmly, "Well, you have nowhere lined up do you? And you need to be away from that maniac out there. So, we leave our cars here and take an unmarked car instead. And, if we stop somewhere to eat first, we can recap on what's happened so far."
"I'll agree to the last part," Amanda said, "but as for staying at your place, there's no way."
Aaron sighed. "I've lost one partner. I'm not losing another." She caught a flash of pain in his eyes and then it was gone. "And my bed is better made than yours," he beamed wickedly.
Amanda pursed her lips. "You are — "
"Irresistible?" Aaron teased.
"Irrepressible."
"Fine," Aaron said. "I know a great place for a midnight snack. Willing to take a chance on my taste?"
Amanda and Aaron were silent as they made their way to the parking lot. Amanda felt safe with Aaron. She thought of his arms around her. They had felt so good. Trying to shut the scene out her mind, she recalled her pendant.
Aaron glanced over at Amanda. "What's up?"
"Oh, nothing," she said. "I just wish I could go back to the house to find — "
"Is this what you're looking for?" Aaron asked, holding something out to her.
It was her pendant. Amanda's face lit up with relief and joy as she took it from him. Impulsively, she leaned forward and kissed him. He drew her into his arms.
"Funny how love makes a person careless," a voice said to them from behind.
Despite the man's disguise of a false moustache and beard, Amanda finally placed the face. Using all of her might she shoved Aaron to the ground, drew her Glock and leveled it at the man standing before her.
The man already had his weapon drawn and stared at her with her own eyes.
Her father.
The man she'd seen only twice in her life, and one of those times was when she arrested him.
"What are you doing here?" Amanda asked. She sensed Aaron reaching slowly for his gun.
"Making you see me," he said.
"Don't play coy. You could have seen me any time you wanted. You didn't have to pull this elaborate scheme."
"Yes, I did. You see, I can't go back to work until the person who put me in jail is out of the way."
"Me?" Amanda shivered. She knew he wouldn't hesitate to kill her. He stood there with gun in hand and a maniacal grin on his face.
"Yes, you. Tell your buddy to stop trying to pull his gun."
"Seriously, Aaron, don't do it," Amanda pleaded. Aaron stayed still.
"Did you know that Shelly was related to me?" she asked her father. Why hadn't Isis told her that her father was out of prison?
"Yes," he laughed.
"Why did you kill her?"
"I've been staying at MaraBella. She showed up unexpectedly and recognized me."
MaraBella was the wealthy branch of Shelly's family's West Palm Beach chain of hotels. So while Amanda was chasing a jewel thief, she was really chasing her father. He had lured her here. He wasn't a jewel thief. He was a drug runner. The head of a cartel. And she'd taken that away from him when he got busted.
"What am I supposed to do? Turn my back and let you go?" Amanda asked.
"Would you?" He winked at her.
"Hell, no. You're a criminal. You killed a cousin I never knew I had. You're going down."
"I wasn't kidding, Valiant. I need you out of the way. I already got to your friend Isis. Lovely lady, but not very careful."
Amanda's heart raced. No wonder she hadn't heard from Isis. Without so much as a blink, Amanda said, "Tougher guys than you have tried to take me out."
"But I know your weaknesses better than they do," he said and fired a shot at Aaron. Aaron fell to the ground clutching his right arm.
Her father turned on his heel and took off running toward the alleys past the parking lot.
Amanda dropped to one knee beside Aaron. "Are you okay?" she asked, watching blood ooze out between the fingers that covered his wound.
"Hell, you're definitely going to have to promise to kiss it and make it better," Aaron said with a grimace. "I think it was a clean shot — he just got me on the arm. Get out of here. Don't let our man get away."
Amanda sprinted after her father. She heard his footsteps as he ducked down an alley. And then there was nothing but silence. She closed her eyes and left behind her little-girl wishes for a father's love and found the part inside of her that had been trained and honed at the Athena Academy.
Amanda moved silently into the alley and stayed in the shadows. She crept behind abandoned boxes and a large garbage bin. She scanned the for a sign of her father. The alley was a dead end. There was no way out except through her.
"Come out, come out wherever you are," she said in a soft sing-song voice, forcing herself to forget fairytale ideas of what a dad should be.
"But you don't play fair," he called out from the shadows.
"Taking lives has never been a game to me." Amanda took a deep breath and said goodbye to last of her childhood dreams.
Her father's voice had ricocheted off the wall to her right, so she scanned the shadows on the left and moved closer.
A bullet blew past her, stirring the hair on her cheek. Amanda fired back. She heard the bullet hit flesh and then heard his body slam to the ground. Keeping her gun trained on the fallen man, Amanda moved cautiously forward.
He was face down on the ground with his hands tucked under his chest, and Amanda knew there was a chance when she flipped him over that he'd fire at her. She used the toe of her shoe and wedged it under his shoulder. Using the force and skill she'd developed practicing martial arts, she flipped him over.
He wasn't breathing and his gun lay useless at his side. He was really gone. And this time, forever.
Amanda knelt next to him, patted down his body and found the remaining missing jewels. She didn't touch his gun but lifted a hand to close his eyelids. She didn't want to look into those eyes ever again.
"You killed him."
Amanda turned to see Aaron standing behind her. The right sleeve of his shirt was torn and a bandage covered his wound. He held his gun loosely in his left hand.
A team of medics and cops swarmed into the alley before Amanda could reply. She stood and went to talk to the officer in charge.
After agreeing to go down to the station for questioning, Amanda walked away from the alley.
"Wait up," Aaron called after her.
"Why are you still here?" she asked.
"We're partners," he grinned.
"Not any more. Case closed, crime solved," Amanda sighed.
"If only it were that easy," Aaron said. He winced as he moved toward her.
"You should be off your feet and resting. Why are you hanging around here?"
"You promised to make it better."
"I'm — "
"How about we start with a kiss? I took a bullet for you — it's the least you can do."
"Please tell me you don't really use that corny line on women," Amanda laughed. Aaron moved closer and Amanda felt his body heat in the inch of space between them.
"You're the first woman I've used it on. Is it good? Does it make you want me?" he teased.
"It makes me want to — "
Aaron lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her. He pulled Amanda close to his lean muscular body and held her. His kiss embodied everything she would never admit she wanted but had always secretly craved. It was fierce, passionate and surprisingly tender.
When Aaron pulled back, Amanda knew that things were forever changed between them.
And she didn't regret it.
"I'm taking you home with me, Amanda," he said firmly.
She nodded. Home. She wasn't sure if she'd find it with Aaron, but with her past behind her, she thought just maybe she had a chance.
The End