Undercover Protector

“Agreed,” Michael said.

“I want no more lies. No more games. This phony engagement thing will be the last decision either of you will make without consulting me first. Is that clear?”

Michael nodded. “You’re the boss.”

“Good.” If she could get her body to stop yearning toward him, everything would be fine.

She went to her grandpa’s bed and fussed with his covers while she scolded, “You need more sleep, Grandpa, because I’m going to wake you at eight tomorrow morning. Your physical therapist is scheduled for ten o’clock, and you need to bathe before he gets here.”

“There’s one more thing.” He pointed to the bedside table. “Open that drawer and reach way in the back. There’s a cigar box.”

Now what? She removed the battered rectangular box of heavy cardboard decorated with a garish picture of a Spanish señorita with red flowers in her impossibly thick, curly black hair.

“Open it,” Lionel said.

She eyed him suspiciously, half expecting an explosion of confetti when she lifted the lid. “If this is some kind of joke, I will not be amused.”

“Just open the box, girl.”

Inside, resting atop a clutter of buttons and lapel pins, Annie found a three-by-four-inch sepia photograph of a smiling woman with pale eyes and long, light-colored hair swept back from her forehead in a style popular in the 1940s. She was Annie’s grandmother, Elizabeth Callahan.

“The engagement ring is in there,” Lionel said.

Gingerly Annie picked up a little velvet-covered box. “Grandpa, you don’t have to give me this.”

“Nonsense,” he said. “I buried Elizabeth with her wedding band twenty-three years ago, but I kept this little diamond for you, Annie. I always thought you might like it.”

Annie snapped open the box. A small bright diamond winked at her from its ornate setting of tiny, twining wild roses. “It’s beautiful.”

“You remind me of her. Sometimes when I look at you, I see Elizabeth.” He cleared his throat. “You were only seven when she died, but do you remember her at all?”

“Her laughter.” Mostly she recalled stories other people had told her about Elizabeth, but one memory belonged to Annie alone. “She took me fishing on the river in a rowboat. We didn’t catch anything, but we laughed all afternoon.”

“That woman had one hell of a sense of humor. She kept me from taking myself too seriously.” He gave Annie a lopsided grin. “Put the ring on.”

Tears stung the back of her eyelids, and she blinked to keep them from falling. This ring was a sacred symbol of her grandparents’ love. Wearing it for a fake engagement seemed sacrilegious. “Grandpa, this isn’t right.”

“Just do it, honey. Elizabeth would’ve loved the joke. She would’ve laughed her head off if she’d seen your face when Michael said you were engaged. I never thought your eyes could pop that far out of your head.”

But this moment wasn’t funny to Annie. Getting married and being engaged were serious business. A lifetime commitment was not to be taken lightly. She took the ring from the velvet box and held it.

Unable to decide what to do, she rose from the bed and walked slowly, thoughtfully, toward the bay windows. Though the miniblinds were closed, a breeze crept in. Annie wished for a strong wind to flow through her mind and whisk away all her questions and doubts.

Though she had no intention of ever falling for Michael again, there seemed to be no choice except to play along with the fake engagement. By tomorrow morning, Officer Bobby would’ve blabbed to somebody else, and the rumor would be all over town. To explain would be embarrassing, to say the least. “I hate lies.”

Michael joined her at the windows. “The ring doesn’t have to be a lie.”

“What are you saying?” He couldn’t possibly be proposing. After eleven years apart, they hardly knew each other. “You can’t be talking about a real engagement.”

“Let me help you put it on.” Gently holding her left hand, he slipped the band over the tip of her third finger and paused. “This ring is my promise to you.”

His nearness and the warmth of his touch soothed her troubled mind. His dark eyes shone with sincerity. Oh, how she wished she could believe his promises! She longed to curl up against his broad chest and forget her cares.

He continued, “This is my vow. I will always keep you safe. Always. As long as you wear this ring, I will protect you.”

From the bed, she heard her grandpa’s heartfelt sigh of relief. “Amen,” he whispered.

“I accept,” Annie said. Silently she added her own promise: She would protect him, too. They would be partners.

FIFTEEN MINUTES LATER, Michael sat opposite Annie at the kitchen table and watched while she polished off a ham-and-Dijon-mustard sandwich. She didn’t pick at her food, mentally counting every calorie. Annie ate the same way she did everything else—without pretension.

And yet her life wasn’t an open book, easily readable from page to page. Annie kept her emotions under tight control. She had erected barriers—steel walls to hide her secrets from prying eyes.

“We’re partners,” she said. “Just like my partner on the force in Salem.”

Michael’s intentions were far more intimate. He’d been watching her for days, developing a grudging admiration for her professionalism and her no-nonsense approach to life. He liked Annie Callahan. And her kiss had sparked a deeper attraction. “Partners,” he said.

“As such, we should proceed with our own investigation. I suggest we start now.”

As she raised the sandwich to her lips, the engagement diamond flashed like a warning signal. His promise to protect her might be more difficult than he’d expected. “Why now?”

“Because we don’t want the trail to get cold.” She chewed for a moment. “Engstrom and Officer Bobby aren’t exactly super sleuths. I don’t think they’d recognize a clue if it jumped up and bit them on the toe.”

“It’s their job, Annie.”

“Mine, too. And I’m good at it,” she said confidently. “I noticed that you’re pretty handy with that weapon you were waving around. By the way, do you have a permit?”

“Yes, Officer,” he said dryly.

“Why are you armed?” she asked.

“I’m here to protect you.” He deflected her question. “I didn’t know if Bateman would be carrying.”

“Possession of a weapon would be violation of his parole.” She was all cop. “Michael, may I see your gun?”

He grinned. “That’s the first time a woman has said that to me and meant it literally.”

“Ha-ha.”

“It’s double-action. Easy to cock.”

“Very funny.”

“Most women would—”

“I don’t want to hear about your other girlfriends,” she said quickly. “It’s not that I’m jealous or anything. But this is the way I like to work with a partner. We stay focused on the job, which is taking care of Lionel and guarding against threats from Bateman. We don’t need banter.”

“Are you telling me that you and your partners don’t ever talk about anything other than policework?”