alongside me.” She cut in before he had a chance to put the kibosh on it. “You carry a gun…”
He hesitated, cocked his head.
Allie’s mental clock ticked off more seconds. The longer it took him to make a decision the less likely he was to accommodate her.
“Please.” She hated to beg.
“Okay. We’ll shoot for an hour. Not in the street. We’ll use the beach, but farther up the coast away from the house.”
Allie breathed a sigh. She glanced down at her T-shirt and cutoffs. Sutter wore khakis, a starched blue cotton dress shirt and polished loafers. His clothing didn’t seem to concern him, and she wasn’t about to broach the subject. Apparently, he was used to chasing down suspects while wearing quasi-business attire. He probably never broke a sweat. A holster clipped to his belt held his gun. She supposed he’d have to do something about the weapon.
“I just need to change into my running shoes.” She headed for the stairs.
“I have some things in the car.” He moved into the back room and headed toward the garage.
Allie changed her shoes, and grabbed a hat and a tube of 45-SPF sunscreen. She pulled back her hair so her ponytail poked through the opening at the back of her billed cap. Then she pulled two chilled bottles of water out of the refrigerator and went downstairs and entered her workroom at the same time Sutter came in from the garage. He wore navy nylon running shorts, running shoes and a loose gray T-shirt imprinted with a bold black logo: BRING IT ON.
Was he using some kind of cop shorthand? In her view, what he brought on was a picture of a man in fantastic shape. Muscles everywhere, sculpting a body that built to shame all of those runty actors who fill a movie screen as if they stood at least six-feet. Allie’s heart pumped out an extra tick.
She set the water bottles on her work table, unscrewed the cap on the sunscreen and squeezed a small amount onto her finger then dabbed it on her face. She spread a thin film on her arms.
“Would you like some?”
She held out the tube, but Sutter looked at it like she’d offered him a squirt of axel grease. She shrugged and dropped the tube into her pocket. Her newly minted partner was apparently muy simpatico with the sun’s UV rays. Possibly, he grooved on all kinds of danger.
She gave him a quick covert glance. Over the past six days, during the times they were together, his skin tone hadn’t really registered. Now, she noticed his face had a slightly burnished appearance. Detectives, at least on TV, spent a lot of time at crime scenes outdoors. Possibly, the late-spring sun accounted for his healthy color. Or maybe it was due to genetics. Both of Allie’s parents had fair complexions, and she had followed their genetic code. However, Sutter came by his skin tone, the darkish component bumped him pretty high up on the looks and sexually attractive scale.
“Ready?” He turned toward the door leading into the garage.
“Are you carrying a weapon?”
He raised the back of his shirt, enough to expose a gun snugly tucked into the leather holster now clipped to the waistband of his shorts.
“No matter where or when, I never leave home without one.” He smiled at her over his shoulder. The dimple dented his cheek.
Allie smiled back.
“Not even when you go for a run?”
He gave a barely audible laugh. “What are you afraid of? Did you worry it might go off, and I’ll shoot myself in the …heel?”
Allie’s eyes snapped up and away from Sutter’s shorts. She pressed her teeth together. “Hardly,” she muttered.
“Okay then. Let’s go. We’ll head for the Cliff House and distance ourselves from here. Strictly a protective measure.”
Allie shivered at the reminder of what might eventually await her if Dave slipped through a three-state dragnet. How much longer must she live with the threat of a psychopath hanging over her head? She took a deep breath and grabbed the water bottles.
Sutter led the way into the
He hesitated, cocked his head.
Allie’s mental clock ticked off more seconds. The longer it took him to make a decision the less likely he was to accommodate her.
“Please.” She hated to beg.
“Okay. We’ll shoot for an hour. Not in the street. We’ll use the beach, but farther up the coast away from the house.”
Allie breathed a sigh. She glanced down at her T-shirt and cutoffs. Sutter wore khakis, a starched blue cotton dress shirt and polished loafers. His clothing didn’t seem to concern him, and she wasn’t about to broach the subject. Apparently, he was used to chasing down suspects while wearing quasi-business attire. He probably never broke a sweat. A holster clipped to his belt held his gun. She supposed he’d have to do something about the weapon.
“I just need to change into my running shoes.” She headed for the stairs.
“I have some things in the car.” He moved into the back room and headed toward the garage.
Allie changed her shoes, and grabbed a hat and a tube of 45-SPF sunscreen. She pulled back her hair so her ponytail poked through the opening at the back of her billed cap. Then she pulled two chilled bottles of water out of the refrigerator and went downstairs and entered her workroom at the same time Sutter came in from the garage. He wore navy nylon running shorts, running shoes and a loose gray T-shirt imprinted with a bold black logo: BRING IT ON.
Was he using some kind of cop shorthand? In her view, what he brought on was a picture of a man in fantastic shape. Muscles everywhere, sculpting a body that built to shame all of those runty actors who fill a movie screen as if they stood at least six-feet. Allie’s heart pumped out an extra tick.
She set the water bottles on her work table, unscrewed the cap on the sunscreen and squeezed a small amount onto her finger then dabbed it on her face. She spread a thin film on her arms.
“Would you like some?”
She held out the tube, but Sutter looked at it like she’d offered him a squirt of axel grease. She shrugged and dropped the tube into her pocket. Her newly minted partner was apparently muy simpatico with the sun’s UV rays. Possibly, he grooved on all kinds of danger.
She gave him a quick covert glance. Over the past six days, during the times they were together, his skin tone hadn’t really registered. Now, she noticed his face had a slightly burnished appearance. Detectives, at least on TV, spent a lot of time at crime scenes outdoors. Possibly, the late-spring sun accounted for his healthy color. Or maybe it was due to genetics. Both of Allie’s parents had fair complexions, and she had followed their genetic code. However, Sutter came by his skin tone, the darkish component bumped him pretty high up on the looks and sexually attractive scale.
“Ready?” He turned toward the door leading into the garage.
“Are you carrying a weapon?”
He raised the back of his shirt, enough to expose a gun snugly tucked into the leather holster now clipped to the waistband of his shorts.
“No matter where or when, I never leave home without one.” He smiled at her over his shoulder. The dimple dented his cheek.
Allie smiled back.
“Not even when you go for a run?”
He gave a barely audible laugh. “What are you afraid of? Did you worry it might go off, and I’ll shoot myself in the …heel?”
Allie’s eyes snapped up and away from Sutter’s shorts. She pressed her teeth together. “Hardly,” she muttered.
“Okay then. Let’s go. We’ll head for the Cliff House and distance ourselves from here. Strictly a protective measure.”
Allie shivered at the reminder of what might eventually await her if Dave slipped through a three-state dragnet. How much longer must she live with the threat of a psychopath hanging over her head? She took a deep breath and grabbed the water bottles.
Sutter led the way into the
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