Her Lawman Protector

Liv was silent for a moment, then nodded. “I agree with that.”

“And for what it’s worth, I have no idea how he strayed when he had you to come home to.”

Besides the fact that they seemed to share a knack for real estate fraud. Jack’s department had found more evidence that pointed to her involvement in Evan’s schemes—this very bookstore, as a matter of fact. Complaints about some deeply unethical behavior during the purchase of this property five years ago had sparked their suspicions. They’d had enough to start a formal, albeit undercover, investigation six months ago, and their digging had brought them to Liv.

“Too bad Evan didn’t feel the same way about monogamy,” she said bitterly. “Whatever. It’s in the past, and this is a fresh start.”

How fresh, though? Was this a part she was playing—stung woman starting over? Or was her fresh start going to involve a nice influx of cash? If she and Evan were parting ways in business now, Evan might owe her an awful lot.

“I’m just curious,” he said. “When did you buy this place?”

“Evan and I bought it about five years ago,” she replied. “Evan figured it might be a good investment, and I’d been hoping to put it to good use. Never thought that would be after our divorce, of course, but...” She shrugged. “I asked for this building when we divided our assets.”

“Evan was okay with that?”

“This is Eagle’s Rest. We bought it for a song from an old woman who needed the money. In exchange for this place, I didn’t contest some other stuff. So Evan was happy.”

That was strange, considering that Evan had gone out of his way to buy as many surrounding properties as possible. But he’d let this one go? Maybe Liv wasn’t planning on parting ways with her ex when it came to their scam, after all. Money might mean more than wedding vows to some people.

“So Evan cheats on you, and you accept a piece of worthless property?” He wasn’t supposed to be cross-examining her, but he was curious how she’d defend that.

“It’s not worthless,” she retorted. “It’s chock-full of sentimental value. I was looking at the life I wanted now that I was single, and I wanted to come home. Besides, there’s something to be said for low property taxes—especially when you’re just starting out.”

“Has he shown any interest in this place since?” Jack asked.

She shook her head. “No. Look, Jack, I’m not Evan’s biggest fan right now, but he has no reason to try to scare me away from this store. I’m out of his way. He’s got the woman he wants, and he’s got Denver. Frankly, I think he’s glad to be rid of me.”

Before Jack could think too deeply about her defense of her ex-husband, Liv glanced at her watch. “I’ve got to finish up with these shelves before lunch.”

That was a dismissal—he could hear it in her tone. Should he push it today? Maybe not...

“Okay,” he said. “But I want you to keep your doors locked and your alarm system activated for the time being.”

Her cheeks colored. “I don’t actually have an alarm system yet.”

So the sign in the door’s window was a decoy. That was good to know if they got a search warrant and they needed to take a look around later.

“You should look into that,” he said. “And be aware of your surroundings. Make a note of anyone who hangs around or shows a little too much interest in your store.”

“I need people to show interest, Jack.” She shook her head. “I’m opening a new business! I need customers.”

“Trust your gut,” he replied. He was hoping that her guilt would make her gut a little more touchy than usual, and she’d call him back.

“I will.” Liv looked like she wanted to say something more, then gave him a tight smile. “Thanks, Jack. And you guys will be patrolling this street, right?”

You guys. She was still banking on the rest of the police force here.

“You bet,” he replied, pulling a card from his pocket. “I’ll be in touch. In the meantime, if anything seems weird or uncomfortable—day or night—you call me.”

She took the card from his fingers, her gaze lingering on his for a beat longer than necessary. She looked worried, and while he was only doing his job in an undercover fraud investigation, he felt a faint pang of guilt. The testosterone-fueled part of him didn’t like tricking a woman into letting him get closer. In fact, while it was perfectly legal to be dishonest in order to get a confession out of a suspect, it never felt morally comfortable to him.

Still, these were the tactics available to the police, and what was worse: some dishonesty to catch a criminal, or letting a criminal go to victimize someone else? When someone was trying to lie and deceive, they didn’t tend to come clean with straightforward questioning. Like any undercover operation, there was going to be some deception. A lot of people from his community growing up in a poor section of Denver had been the victims of some illegal police deception in the past, so it was a little harder for him to rationalize it away. Still, for all he knew, he was saving Liv’s life before she got in too deep to some criminal ring. There were some seriously scary people who would do anything for a big enough payout. And he was pretty confident that she was in league with them.

“You’ve got my number there,” he said.

“Thank you,” she said, then licked her lips. “I appreciate it.”

“I mean that.” He caught her gaze and held it. “You call me.”

Liv nodded and glanced away. He’d done what he could today—planted a few seeds. He’d suggest to the chief that they leave another threatening letter overnight just to complete the process. Undercover operations required some careful setup, and she was still a little resistant to letting him in closer.

Jack headed for the door and pulled it open. “Take care now, Liv.”

And when he glanced over his shoulder, he caught those clear green eyes fixed on him, her lips slightly parted and her cheeks pale. She clutched a book in front of her in a white-knuckled grip.

Blast. He wasn’t supposed to be feeling anything more than professional satisfaction at what he’d accomplished today, but instead, he was experiencing a mixture of regret and pity. She was scared. Later on, his job would be to make her feel safe again—make her open up. He was looking forward to that part of the job just a little too much.

If he was smart, he’d get these errant feelings under control. She might be beautiful, but that didn’t change the evidence.

CHAPTER TWO (#u21828506-0130-5ce3-9bbf-3318e6250db1)

LIV ARRIVED AT the store the next morning, half afraid she’d find another note, but the floor in front of the mail slot was bare. She sighed in relief, then took a moment to pull herself together. She wouldn’t be scared off by a coward who worked in anonymous notes. As the morning passed by, she put away the last of the books, but there were more deliveries expected. She ordered in some lunch—a slice of vegetarian pizza with a salad on the side and an order of potato wedges. She was hungry, but she was also nervous. And when she got nervous, she tended to eat. She’d always been this way, even as a kid. In her elementary school years, she’d been filled with social anxiety and was constantly peckish. She’d get on the school bus every morning with dread in her belly, and she’d have her lunch polished off before she even arrived at school.

Back then, she didn’t have a lot to be nervous about. It was just anxiety of the general variety. She’d had friends and several first cousins in the school, so she’d never been alone. A boy had started making fun of her once, and her three older cousins had beaten him up. For better or for worse, those were days when a bloody nose didn’t turn into family counseling, and Liv had gone through school both chubby and unharassed. Some called that a miracle, but Liv had a secret—she’d mastered the art of the compliment early. But as a grown woman with a marriage in her wake, Liv was tired of people-pleasing, and she’d started mastering the art of a well-timed comeback.

Liv popped the last of the wedges into her mouth just as someone rattled the front door. She looked up, still chewing, to see her aunt Marie peering through the window. Liv sighed and went to unlock the door.

“Why did you lock it?” Marie asked as Liv opened the door. “This isn’t Denver, my dear.”

Marie was a petite woman—barely over five feet tall and as trim as she’d been at twenty. She’d aged well, and at sixty, with her hair dyed a respectable brown, she could pass for five years younger.

“Hi, Auntie,” Liv said. “Come on in.”

Marie looked around, her gaze stopping at the greasy paper plate on the counter. “Liv, dear, you need to eat better.”

Would Marie give that same advice to her stick-thin daughter if she’d just consumed the same meal? Not likely. This was the kind of pressure she lived under, and since her divorce she’d decided to stop apologizing for eating.

“Do you know anyone who hates me?” Liv asked, changing the subject.

Marie blinked. “What?”

“Someone who hates me.” Liv slowed it down. “Or hates the idea of this bookstore...”

“No, of course not.” Marie eyed Liv speculatively. “What’s going on?”

“I got a threatening note. Three, actually. The police think it’s serious.”

“Threatening what, exactly?” Marie asked.