Beauty and the Badge Read online

  “Maybe safety wasn’t the only thing on Mary’s mind.

  Letter to Reader

  Title Page

  Books by Lyn Stone

  LYN STONE

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Epilogue

  Copyright

  “Maybe safety wasn’t the only thing on Mary’s mind.

  Despite her bruises, aches, fears and anger, she could not remember ever feeling as turned on as she did now, strapped into a bucket seat beside Ford, sailing down a deserted highway, watching for a murderer in the rearview mirror.

  Unreal as that seemed, her wanting him made a weird sort of sense. Ford wanted her. His eyes said it. All those little touches said it. If she gave him a chance, he would follow through.

  Any civilized woman would fight it, she told herself. She would concentrate on the other, more imminent danger. The threat of death. That ought to cool her off in a hurry....

  Dear Reader,

  You’ll be glad the kids are going back to school, leaving you time to read every one of this month’s fabulous Silhouette Intimate Moments novels. And you’ll want to start with One Moment Past Midnight, by multiaward-winning Emilie Richards. You’ll be on the edge of your seat as Hannah Blackstone and her gorgeous neighbor, Quinn McDermott, go in search of Hannah’s kidnapped daughter.

  Elizabeth August makes a welcome return with Logan’s Bride, a cop-meets-cop romance to make your heart beat just a little faster. With The Marriage Protection Program, Margaret Watson completes her CAMERON, UTAH miniseries, and a memorable finale it is. Historical author Lyn Stone has written her first contemporary romance, Beauty and the Badge, and you’ll be glad to know she intends to keep setting stories in the present day. Remembering Jake is a twisty story of secrets and hidden identities from talented Cheryl Biggs. And finally, welcome Bonnie K. Winn, with The Hijacked Wife, a FAMILIES ARE FOREVER title.

  And once you’ve finished these terrific novels, mark October on your calendar, because next month Rachel Lee is back, with the next installment of her top-selling CONARD COUNTY miniseries.

  Enjoy!

  Leslie Wainger

  Executive Senior Editor

  * * *

  Please address questions and book requests to:

  Silhouette Reader Service

  U.S.: 3010 Walden Ave., P.O. Box 1325, Buffalo, NY 14269

  Canadian: P.O. Box 609, Fort Erie, Ont. L2A 5X3

  * * *

  BEAUTY AND THE BADGE

  LYN STONE

  Books by Lyn Stone

  Silhouette Intimate Moments

  Beauty and the Badge #952

  Harlequin Historicals

  The Wicked Truth #358

  The Arrangement #389

  The Wilder Wedding #413

  The Knight’s Bride #445

  Bride of Trouville #467

  LYN STONE

  loves creating pictures with words. Paints, too. Her love affair with writing and art began in the third grade when she won a schoolwide prize for her colorful poster for Book Week. She spent the prize money on books, one of which was Little Women.

  She rewrote the ending so that Jo marries her childhood sweetheart. That’s because Lyn had a childhood sweetheart herself and wanted to marry him when she grew up. She did. And now she is living her “happily-ever-after” in north Alabama with the same guy. She and Allen have traveled the world, had two children, four grandchildren and experienced some wild adventures along the way.

  Whether writing romantic historicals or contemporary fiction, Lyn insists on including elements of humor, mystery and danger. Perhaps because that other book she purchased all those years ago was a Nancy Drew.

  To Margaret O’Neill Marbury,

  for encouraging words, attention to detail and

  suggestions that really work! Thank you for everything.

  Chapter 1

  Two years out of the jungle definitely refined a man’s tastes, Ford Devereaux thought. He recalled much uglier feasts than this mangled package of stale peanut-butter crackers.

  He drained his can of warm Coke, memory giving it the flavor of the tablets he had once used to purify swamp water.

  This job definitely paid better than chasing around the armpits of the Southern Hemisphere on covert operations. But just for a fraction of a moment, he missed that. Missed the adrenaline rush he used to crave. The danger. The action.

  Ford bit down on the last cracker, laughed softly and shook his head. He certainly didn’t expect any excitement today, not in tailing a nursery-school teacher around Nashville. The only places she’d been so far were home and work. Boring.

  Well, at least now that he was working for a civilian agency, he could feel reasonably certain he would live to cash his next paycheck.

  The tasteful oval sign, barely visible from behind the hedge where he had parked his Jeep, read Cartland’s Preschool Academy. A prestigious day care is what it was, set smack in the middle of one of Music City’s more affluent communities. He’d lived in this town for twelve years as a kid, and had never known places like this even existed. His early day-care had consisted of the old lady next door, who’d been obsessed with soap operas. Ford couldn’t even remember her name now, only the smell of her cigarettes and the lack of food in her refrigerator.

  Ford wondered why his subject, Mary Shaw, worked here. Getting experience for raising a future brood, or as a cover occupation? Judging by the house she lived in and the Jag she drove, she sure didn’t need the salary.

  The Bureau didn’t have much on her yet, but they soon would. By this time tomorrow, they would know everything about her, right down to the kind of toothpaste she used. At the moment, all they knew for certain was that she held a fortune in diamonds in her hot little hands.

  The quiet drone of a motor alerted him. Ford watched as a green sedan rolled slowly past the school. When he glimpsed the familiar profile of the driver, Ford snapped upright. Damien Perry!

  The old adrenaline Ford had missed kicked in, switching every sense he had on alert. To hell with the surveillance, he had to get the Shaw woman out of there now.

  Parents would be picking up the kids soon and then the teachers would leave. Perry probably would circle the block a few times to check out the terrain, then park and wait until she came outside. When she did, he’d snatch her. Or put a bullet through her head, depending on which he’d been hired to do. From what he knew about Perry, Ford would bet on the bullet.

  He had to hurry before Perry got in place. There was no time to plan; he’d just have to wing it. He cranked his Jeep, pulled up the circular drive to the entrance of the nursery school and got out. With one hand, he checked the position of his weapon at the back of his waist while he pushed the door open with the other.

  Just inside, a young woman behind the counter—Lucille Gibbons, according to her desk plate—glanced up at him and dimpled. “May I help you, sir?”

  Ford started to flash his badge, but thought better of it. No time for explanations. He quickly strode right past her, unlocked the low gate, and noted the colorful signs along the hallway. Mary Shaw’s name sign stood out like a bright red flag on the very first door.

  “Wait a minute!” the receptionist called, charging around the counter like a defensive end. “I’m sorry, you can’t just—”

  Ford opened the classroom door, sen
sing the chunky little Miss Gibbons right on his heels.

  Toddlers scooted here and there, dragging tiny chairs into a loose formation around a woman seated cross-legged on a big red cushion. She held a Dr. Seuss book in her hand.

  When she looked up at him, Ford took a second to verify her identity since he had never seen her up close in person. Mid-twenties, long dark hair, green eyes, left hand sporting a good-size solitaire. Yep, everything fit.

  He couldn’t help but notice the heavy lashes, perfect nose, and wide, expressive mouth. She looked... soft, vulnerable. Her file never mentioned those little details. And whoever took those lousy photos of her ought to have his camera smashed.

  Again, Ford started to identify himself, but the sputtering receptionist was too close, close enough to hear every word. No point in letting Perry know exactly who had Ms. Shaw. Instead, he drew in a deep breath, moving forward as he spoke. “I can’t let you marry him outta spite, honey! Just because we had that one little fuss—”

  “What do you mean, coming in here like this?” she demanded.

  Ford pushed a path through the curious children, leaned over and grabbed her arms just above the elbows. Off-balanced by her ungainly position on the big pillow, she dropped the book and struggled to get her feet under her.

  He pressed his lips against her ear and whispered curtly, “I’ve got to get you out of here. You’re in danger.”

  Then Ford kissed her soundly on the mouth and she froze, just like he knew she would.

  Ford recognized the direction of her right knee and shifted his hips to avoid the blow.

  Without pausing, he dipped his shoulder to her middle and clamped the backs of her knees with his arm. When he hefted her up, her breath huffed out, choking off a scream.

  Miss Gibbons screeched and took off like a shot for the front desk.

  Quickly, Ford tried to wade back through the rowdy little toddlers who clung to his legs. “Hey, want to play a funny game with us?” he shouted to the kids.

  A chorus of excited “yeahs” and “uh-huhs” erupted.

  “Okay, quick! Everybody sit! Hands over your eyes!”

  The children dropped like rocks, still noisy, but at least they were out of the way.

  He ignored the Shaw woman’s breathless curses and the sharp fists bruising his back. He prayed she didn’t go lower and hit on the Glock hidden under his jacket.

  Ford hurried out the door of the room, giving his burden a sharp bounce to ensure she stayed winded.

  Miss Gibbons was busily punching in numbers on the phone—911, no doubt. Ford passed the desk and smiled. “Mind the kids, Miss Lucy!”

  As soon as they’d cleared the front entrance, Ford jerked open the Jeep’s door and dumped Mary Shaw in the back. By the time she realized the childproof locks wouldn’t let her open the rear doors, he had reached the driver’s side.

  He hopped in and hit the main lock in case she decided to come over the seat and try the passenger door. She was raising hell, punching at his head and tugging his hair.

  Ford had just turned out of the driveway when he saw Perry’s Dodge turn the corner. Damn! He’d hoped for a clean getaway.

  Ford elbowed the Shaw woman off him while the Jeep shot down the street and took the corner on two wheels. Still she flew at him from between the front seats, shrieking like a wild woman, going for his eyes now. He held her off with one hand, his other one maneuvering the steering wheel as best he could.

  “FBI!” he shouted, trying to cut through her panic. “Stop fighting me, damn it! Credentials are in my pocket.” It took a moment too long for his message to sink in. Her teeth had already sunk in. Right into the back of his hand. “Ouch!”

  She let go before she drew blood and backed off. “FBI?”

  “FBI,” he repeated with a nod for emphasis, flexing his bruised hand. “Right jacket pocket. Go ahead and verify.”

  For a second, she just sat there. He stole a glance in the rearview mirror and caught her expression of disbelief.

  “Sorry about the roughhousing back there, but believe me, it was necessary. I had to get you out of there in a hurry.”

  She dug into his pocket for his badge folder while he flew down the residential street, checking every few seconds for Perry’s vehicle in the mirrors.

  “These could be fake,” she remarked after she had examined them. She slapped the folder shut and threw it on the front seat.

  He scooped it up and stuck it back into his pocket. Lose that, and his ass was grass. “They’re real. You can call and check.”

  “Then why didn’t you use them?” she asked angrily. She was beginning to believe him, though, he could tell.

  “I’d have had to explain everything, and persuade you to come with me. Could have taken all day, and I had to hurry.”

  Ford glanced in the mirror just as she cocked her head to one side and traced her top lip with her tongue. Lord, she ought not to do that, he thought, glad that he couldn’t afford right now to give her his undivided attention. Brief as it was, that kiss had shaken him up a little too much for comfort.

  “Does this have to do with Antonio’s murder?”

  “Bet on it. Somebody’s after you, all of a sudden, and he doesn’t have a badge.”

  “But that was night before last. The police kept my name out of the papers. No one has bothered me.”

  Ford grimaced as he swung the Jeep into a narrow alley and zipped through to the one-way that would take them back in the opposite direction.

  “Trust me, this guy meant to bother you, big time. And he still does. He’s about a block and a half behind us.” Ford swerved suddenly down another side street. He would have to lower his speed. They were approaching downtown now and the traffic would be heavy.

  She scooted down in the seat as if she expected gunfire. “Can you outrun him?”

  “Not a chance.”

  She gasped. Great. Now he had scared her to death. Well, if she knew the whole truth, she’d be cowering under the seat, hands over her head and screaming. Perry was a suspected hit man. Maybe the Bureau didn’t have enough evidence to put him away, but they had put together a file on him. It listed his connections and contained at least two sharp photos that placed him in the right places at the wrong times. Ford never forgot a face, especially one like Perry’s.

  “We’ll have to ditch the Jeep and lose him on foot.” Ford cut down Deadrick Street. The state museum was a maze Ford knew pretty well. Molly would be working today and she’d help him out. They could cut through the place and be gone before Perry found the other exit—unless Perry already knew where it was, guessed the plan, and was waiting when they came out. It was unlikely, but entirely possible.

  But suppose they didn’t exit? Ford formed an even wilder plan. The boss would choke, and probably stick him behind a desk for the next five years, but what the hell. He had already been a little too creative today to get by without a reprimand, anyway. Blevins would get off on that. The man lived to chew butt, and Ford’s ex-military behind seemed to be his favorite.

  “Hey, you game for a little cat and mouse, Miss Shaw?”

  “Only if I can b-be the cat,” she answered. Her half laugh sounded a little sick.

  Ford couldn’t see her now, crouched as she was in the corner of the back seat. The poor kid sounded scared, but he didn’t detect unreasonable panic in her voice. She’d even tried to make a joke. Had to give her an A for effort.

  “We’ll shake him in the museum,” Ford assured her.

  He wheeled into an empty space near the entrance, slammed on the brakes and hit the master unlock button on his door. “C’mon, kid, make it snappy!”

  She bounded out at a run and beat him to the doorway. Ford risked a quick look down the street to see if Perry had made it. Not yet, but he would in a minute.

  Ford followed her through the two sets of glass doors and rushed across the lobby to the info desk where his sister sat straightening pamphlets. She looked up and grinned. “Hey, Ford! What are you
up to?”

  “Look, we got a tail on and can’t shake him. I need your van,” he snapped.

  “Trade for a baby-sit?”

  “Two hours, max. And don’t go near my Jeep when you get off. Catch a cab.”

  “Gotcha,” Molly said. She reached into her pocket and tossed him her key ring. “Wreck it and I’ll kill you. Anybody I should watch out for? You need backup?”

  “Nope, just stay cool. Thanks, Moll. Pay you back.”

  “Sure will. Next Saturday at ten,” she called after him.

  Ford bulldozed through a group of Japanese tourists crowding the stairs, and led the way down to the exhibits. Other than that bunch, the museum seemed fairly deserted for a Friday.

  He yanked Mary Shaw along at a fast walk until he spied the covered supply-wagon backed against a dark wall, part of a Civil War camp scene. The large display consisted of trees, bushes, a tent and several mannequins dressed in gray uniforms. Ford whisked up two of the rolled gray blankets lying near the fake campfire and grabbed a billed kepi from a reclining soldier’s head.

  “Get inside,” Ford ordered, and pushed her toward the wagon. “He’ll probably be here in a few minutes. We need to see him. but I’d just as soon he didn’t see us, okay?”

  “All right.” She climbed the wheel, jumped in and huddled down inside the front corner of the wagon. Ford followed her and crouched down beside her.

  “Now listen carefully,” he instructed. “I’m going to cover you with this blanket. I want you to peep between the cover and the edge of the wagon, right through here.” He pointed out the gap.

  “When our ‘friend’ comes by, take a good look at him. Be quick about it. Some people can sense a stare. Don’t move. Don’t make a sound. Don’t even take a deep breath. I need to know if this is the man you saw shoot Antonio. Wait until he’s gone and I uncover you before you move or say anything. Got it?”