Chapter 8

Veterinarian Clinic

Friday 4:00 p.m.

As soon as Emma returned to Swan Harbor, it seemed like all hell broke loose. With several emergencies happening at once, she quickly realized she couldn’t do it all. She was functioning on too little sleep and consuming too much caffeine. And as much as she tried to push it away, the feeling of losing control rose a little more every day.

But it keeps you from having to decide about Killian.

It did that, but after the freedom she’d felt sharing her past with Elsa, being out of control made her uncomfortable. Especially when she couldn’t find notes she’d taken when speaking to a former professor. Emma Foster didn’t lose things.

“But you did this time, didn’t you?” Emma whispered, flipping through several piles of folders on her desk. When the last group hadn’t revealed her treasure, she dropped onto her chair, “They have to be here,” she muttered.

“Damn!” Emma slammed the drawer she’d been looking in, the resounding thwack not completely alleviating her frustration.

“What’s wrong?”

She glanced up just as Sadie entered the office, a pile of folders in her arms. “I’m looking for something.”

“Really?” A teasing smile crossed Sadie’s face. “Did you say you’re looking for something?”

“Yes,” Emma asserted, refusing to be pulled wherever her office manager was trying to lead. “I’m looking for some notes.”

“Are you the same Doctor Foster,” Sadie sashayed a little closer, “who makes lists and then subdivides them?”

“Come on, Sadie,” Emma sighed. “I’m not that bad.”

“Oh, I didn’t say it was bad,” Sadie assured her. “But ... you have been frazzled lately.”

Emma had been more distracted since returning to Swan Harbor, but she wasn’t willing to acknowledge that fact. “Come on,” she sputtered, “it’s been crazy since I returned. “Mitzi Fisher’s prized poodle almost died giving birth—”

“Her precious Ribbons and Bows,” Sadie intoned.

“And Bo Peep,” Emma continued as if she hadn’t been interrupted, “was hit by a car.”

“But you saved her.”

“True.” Emma sent Sadie a side-eye look, “No thanks to my assistant, who passed out at the first sight of blood.”

“Yeah, sorry about that.” Sadie gave her a sheepish smile. “I didn’t think it would bother me that much.”

“Seems I need to hire someone to help,” Emma sighed. “Preferably someone who can watch over the animals in recovery and help in surgery.”

“Makes sense.” Sadie handed over a piece of paper. “Call Leroy. He’s a nice guy, although a bit of a busy body. But he’s great with animals and did similar work for Doc Thatcher.”

“Okay, thanks.” Emma set the paper in the center of her desk and laid her phone on top of it.

“There’s something else, though.”

The way Sadie was staring gave Emma the same feeling as when Elsa was trying to pull information from her.

“It’s just that I’ve been … busy,” Emma tossed out, hoping to throw Sadie off track. “And Felis catus have taken over my office.”

Sadie picked up an orange ball of fur, “I’ll agree six kittens can be distracting, but this is different.”

“Different?” Emma squeaked. “How?”

“Oh,” Sadie replied, “you’re distracted. It’s almost as if it involves a man.”

Emma felt her face heating and turned away to point at her board. “Puhlease. You know that’s not next on my list.”

“Oh, I know. But this is Swan Harbor, Emma,” Sadie flashed the diamond on her left ring finger, “where the heart wants what the heart wants.”

“Well,” Emma yawned, “my heart wants sleep. And my notes. Have you seen them?”

“Would these be the notes written on a bag from Sally’s takeout or on the box your pink gloves come in?”

Emma winced at the fact her uncharacteristic behavior was out on display and just tried to think about what she’d been doing when she’d taken said notes. “Sally’s bag, I think. They had to do with the treatment for the Mayor’s horse.”

“You’re in luck then,” Sadie handed over a file, “it was tough, but I managed to read your chicken scratch and made you a copy.”

“Thanks.” Emma’s relief had her body sagging with fatigue. “Were the Canis lupus familiaris picked up?”

“Bo Peep and Ribbons and her puppies are home with their owners and follow-up appointments were scheduled.”

“Okay. Thanks again, Sadie.” Emma covered her mouth when another yawn snuck out. “I’m heading up to bed. I’ll see you Monday.”

With Sadie gone, Emma trudged up the stairs to her apartment. She had a date with a pile of mail and her bed.

It could be a date with Killian if you gave him a chance.

She’d think about him later, she promised herself, dropping onto the sofa and picking the pile of mail.

Sheriff’s Department, One week later 8:00 a.m.

Killian ran up the steps to the Sheriff’s Department, happy to be home. It had been over six weeks since he’d been back in Swan Harbor, and he’d missed it; the town, the people … Emma. And now that he’d allowed her to see the real man, he could only hope she would call.

“Welcome back,” Dylan greeted him as soon as he stepped inside. “How was New York?”

“Good,” Killian smiled. “It was nice to be with my brother over the holidays.”

“Glad I could help.”

The arrival of a fax pulled Dylan away from the conversation, leaving Killian alone with Amy. The way she was leaning toward him, propping her chin on her hand, made him uncomfortable.

It’s because you’ve changed.

Just a few weeks ago, those words from the quiet voice inside his head would have terrified him.

“How were your holidays?” he asked after a few minutes of silence.

“Good.” Amy’s smile could only be described as coquettish as she continued to stare up at him.

Killian cleared his throat and tried again, “Did I miss anything important?”

Amy’s smile fell, “Not really. I left the incident reports on your desk. Read them and you’ll be caught up.”

“Thank you.” Killian took a step away from her desk, his feeling of discomfort increasing even more.

“You’re very welcome,” she preened, her smile becoming more predatory than he’d ever seen her aim at him. “Let me know if there’s anything else you need.”

“I will.” Killian moved even farther away. Then, on the way by, tossed out, “Happy New Year.”

As Amy had promised, the report was in the middle of his desk and smelled of her perfume. But, just as she had said, it wasn’t very long and after living in New York, he had to marvel at a few of the incidents.

“Underwear on Christmas decorations?” Killian exclaimed. “Really?”

“It was a sight.” Dylan laughed, coming into the office, and hitching a hip onto Killian’s desk. “You should have seen Sally’s undies on a snowman.”

“Granny panties?” Killian guessed.

“Oh no,” Dylan’s blue eyes twinkled. “Let’s just say, our Sally has good taste.”

“Or Danny does,” Killian added, wondering about the older couple and their closeness.

“That’s a possibility.” Dylan sobered, “He and my dad grew up together. I heard some … interesting stories when I was young.”

Killian had a hard time understanding the longevity of those types of relationships. But now that he lived in a small town ….

“We haven’t found the culprit either,” Dylan moved the conversation back to the underwear caper.

“A kid?” Killian offered.

Dylan frowned, “Maybe. It’s happened before. Amy’s looking into it for me.”

“A serial Underwear Bandit,” Killian chuckled. “That’s a new one.”

“You get all kinds in a small town,” Dylan grinned. “Just wait. Now …”

“Now?” Killian played dumb, not sure how much he wanted to share about his search in New York; even knowing it was Dylan’s words that sent him on his journey.

Dylan gave him a look that said, really? Pushing Killian to surrender, “What is it you want to know?”

“Did you find what you were looking for?”

More than, Killian couldn’t help but think. “I’m working on it.” he admitted. “The time away was educational. But I’ve laid quite a few ghosts to rest.”

“And Emma?” Dylan prodded a little more. “What about her?”

What happened with Emma wasn’t something Killian felt ready to share, but he offered, “I have hope this year will be a good one.”

“It’s about time you got your ugly mug back to work,” Rusty, his partner, quipped, stepping into their office. “You’ve been taking it easy way too long.”

“Wanker,” Killian taunted.

“Prat,” Rusty shot back.

“Boys,” Dylan shook his head. “Must you resort to name calling so early in the morning?”

“Sorry, Boss,” Rusty snickered. “We’ll wait until after lunch. Won’t we Muppet?

“Muppet?” Dylan grinned. “Reminds me of that children’s show Molly loves.”

Killian snickered, “I wouldn’t use that word as an endearment, Mate.”

Dylan glanced between Killian and Rusty, “More British slang?”

“Aye.”

When Killian had joined the department and met Rusty Langley, they’d immediately bonded. It had been more than their law enforcement background, British heritage or love of soccer. There had been an inherent connection that said someone had his back. That they could rile their unflappable boss was a bonus.

“Together you’re like children,” Dylan softened the insult with an indulgent grin. “You’ll make me grey before my time.”

“You used to say that about Jessie,” Rusty chuckled. “Now that she’s married and out of town, Killian and I are just picking up the slack.”

“I appreciate it … not,” Dylan began.

“Rusty, Killian, you two are up.” Amy interrupted, “We’ve got an … incident.”

The laughter in her voice had all three men exchanging looks and following her to the front.

“What’s up?” Dylan stopped next to her desk, immediately taking over the situation.

Amy pushed her notepad toward them where she had written,

Woman was awakened by hearing her neighbor screaming she’s tied up, and the person with her has been knocked out.

“Okay.” Dylan glanced up from the pad of paper, his blue eyes alight with laughter. “Have fun.”

“Welcome home,” Rusty smirked as they climbed into the car.

Killian shook his head in wonder. “I thought I’d seen it all.”

“See,” Rusty pointed out, “it’s true what they say, ‘you do learn something new every day.’”

“It’s not what I learn today, I’m worried about,” Killian grumbled. “It’s what we might see.”

Their call took them to the Camelot Arms Apartments, an older complex on the opposite side of town from where Killian lived. He was familiar with the sprawling old building, in the sense he’d picked up a date there a time or two over the past year. However, since his name debacle in November, he’d made a point to use his evasion skills any time a past acquaintance was in sight. It wasn’t fear causing his unease, but the fact that every time he saw one, the saying about a woman scorned popped into his head. As Rusty parked, he had to wonder if his dodge and dash days over.

“Do we have a name for who called?” Killian asked as they stepped from the car.

Rusty pulled the report from his pocket, “Chloe Lane. Isn’t she one of yours?”

“I’ve been out with her a few times,” Killian admitted. “Maybe you should do the talking.”

“I’d be happy to,” Rusty started to say as they rounded the corner and Chloe was waiting for them, “but …”

“Killian,” Chloe stepped forward and immediately latched onto his arm. “It’s about time. Poor Audrey is beside herself.”

“We—”

“You’re here now,” she interrupted, pressing herself closer.

Killian met Rusty’s smiling eyes, and the thought she’s not Emma, floated through his head. “Do you have a key?” He extricated his arm and stepped away.

“No,” Chloe shook her head, “and the manager, is out of town.”

Rusty kicked at the door. “It’s metal so we can’t break it down.”

“I’ve got this,” smirked Killian, pulling a black leather case from his pocket. He removed a slim silver lockpick and with a few well-placed maneuvers, opened the door.

“Audrey,” Killian called, picturing the nondescript, tall, thin woman. “It’s the police.”

“Hurry,” Audrey yelled back. “Leroy needs your help.”

“Leroy?” Rusty whispered. “And Audrey?”

“Interesting.” Killian mused, picturing the short, brash man, who often drank and became just a little too rowdy on the weekends. “Wouldn’t have expected that pairing.”

The sight that greeted them when they reached the bedroom door had Killian backing up a step and telling Chloe to call 911.

“I’ll check Leroy.” Rusty moved quickly toward the man on the floor, whose head and bare feet were the only parts of his body not covered by a large, red cape.

Killian glanced toward the center of the room and quickly took in the scene. Naked, Audrey lay spread eagle on top of the sheets with each hand and foot bound to a bedpost.

He grabbed a blanket on his way toward the bed and covered her. “What happened?” he asked, going to work to undo the knots.

“Oh, Leroy,” Audrey sputtered, her face red with embarrassment, “woke up wanting to play Superman. Except when he tried to fly, he missed, and …” She sat up and wrapped the sheet around her body. “Is he okay?”

“He’s breathing.” Rusty left Leroy’s side when the paramedics rushed in with a stretcher. “Why don’t you get ready and ride with him.”

“Thank you.” Audrey disappeared to dress and after making sure the paramedics had everything under control, Killian followed Rusty outside.

“Get cases like that often?”

“Oh, you don’t know the half of it.” Rusty quipped.

Killian grunted and climbed into the car, but when he glanced back toward the building, he caught sight of Chloe’s face, Hell hath no fury, he couldn’t help but think.

“Whoa,” Rusty whistled, “looks like you’re in trouble.”

“No promises were made,” Killian groaned.

Rusty lifted a brow, pushing Killian to add, “Didn’t sleep with her either.

“Want to talk about it?”

Did he? And say what? That he’d spent time with Emma, and she’d had his number for over a week and not used it. Or should he share the fact that he was trying not to lose hope? He wasn’t ready.

“Nothing to talk about,” Killian sighed. “Just pent-up energy, I guess.”

“Sounds like you need to hit Giennie’s.”

“Perhaps you’re right.”

Killian searched for a change of topic and finally asked about Rusty’s family. Thankfully, his partner picked up on the unspoken message and began talking about his wife, Rene, and son Roland. But even the redirection didn’t completely save him, as by the time they arrived back at the department, Emma’s name was mentioned more times than he could count.

Rene’s horse had come up lame, and he had to hear about how wonderful Emma, the vet, had been with the animal. And then Dylan mentioned Molly was meeting Emma, the friend, after school at Sally’s. The entire time he’d suspected they were across the street, he’d fought not to run to her. But after Gray and Sadie stopped by, and Killian overheard them talking about Emma, the employer, and how she was distracted, he’d given up the fight and headed to the gym. He needed to calm his insides.

On the way to the Giennie’s, it was Elsa’s words to be patient that kept him from taking a detour. Otherwise, he would have been on his way to the Swan Harbor vet clinic to find out why Emma had been distracted. But it wasn’t only Emma, the vet, that interested him. He wanted to get to know Emma, the woman.

Killian parked and hurried inside, hoping he wouldn’t be required to socialize. In a town like Swan Harbor, that was no small feat, but after running into Chloe, he wasn’t sure he was strong enough not to fall back into old habits. His cape was fraying and if he saw ….

“Hey, Killian.” Tyler James was standing in front of an open locker, a wet towel around his neck. “Haven’t seen you around lately.

Bloody hell.

The image of Tyler and Emma leaving the party together popped into his head.

You forgot about Tyler.

Shut up, Killian mentally snapped at that inner voice. “Spent the holidays in New York.”

And dancing with Emma, that sly voice whispered.

“That’s nice,” Tyler went on. “Bethany and I spent time down south with family. Christmas is tough for Kara’s parents.”

Killian wanted to be abrupt and not like the singer, but every time he talked about his daughter, it was hard to see Tyler as competition. “I bet they appreciated that.”

“They did.” Tyler dropped his towel in a duffle bag and pulled a sweatshirt over his head. “We had a good time, but Beth was happy to be home with her kitten.

Kitten? It seemed he was destined to be reminded of the lovely Doctor Foster no matter what he was doing.

“Anyway,” Tyler went on, “gotta run. See you later.”

“Later.”

You behaved like a git.

Sue me, he wanted to say, heading toward the boxing area, but as soon as he’d taken several steps, his senses heightened. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, and his heart raced.

They found you.

“Bloody hell!” Killian cursed, stepping back into the shadows.

Emma!

She was dressed in black spandex shorts, a bright red sports bra, tennis shoes and nothing else. And her concentration told him she was working on those demons that were distracting her.

Be patient.

Have hope.

A jab with her right hand, a cross with her left. Every move showcasing her lean body, making him long to touch. She mesmerized him.

But if he stayed, he wouldn’t be able to stay away from her, and instead opted for jammers and the indoor pool.

He dove into the water and immediately moved into the butterfly. Back and forth he swam, trying not to compare the feel of the silky water to a lover’s caress. His goal only to purge the vision of Emma in her tight clothing from his mind.

After losing count of how many laps he swam, he flipped over for the backstroke. But Emma’s image was still there. And when that didn’t help, Killian tried the breaststroke. Except he couldn’t get the picture of her in a red sports bra out of his head.

When he’d pushed himself as far as possible, Killian wearily pulled his body from the pool. His chest heaved, his arms felt like jelly, but the images of her were bright in his mind.

“Bloody hell!” He cursed his current lot in life. But with the need to get away, he practically ran to the locker room, changed from wet to dry clothes and left Giennie’s behind.

Once home, Killian tossed his wet clothes in the washer’s direction and made his way to the bathroom. He shed his clothing and with a flick of his wrist turned the shower on full blast. When the water was hot, he stepped in and leaned his arms against the tile, allowing it to pulse down on his weary shoulders.

Her fists rapidly pummeled the bag and with each movement of her body, the slight muscles rippled in her arms.

“Stop being an arse, Reade!”

Killian adjusted the spray and turned his face up, allowing the mist to rain down upon him.

When her leg swung around to level a perfect roundhouse kick, the spandex stretched even tighter, showing the perfect curve of her taut behind.

Another part of his anatomy stood up and was paying attention to his wayward thoughts.

“Friends!” he snapped. “Just friends.”

A cross was thrown with her right hand and a kick with her left leg, showing off the lower part of her back and her flat stomach.

The Killian Reade who watched that yellow bug fly by last summer would say, to hell with it, grab hold with both hands and pleasure himself. But this man … this man would be her friend. “I’m here, Doc.” He flipped the water to cold.