against Paige’s lower back, surreptitiously urging her forward. ‘Not so many cellphone cameras.’
Once outside, Paige angled her body so that she could see both Bashears and Morton without turning her head. This put her closer to Grayson who couldn’t stop himself from drawing a deep breath. Despite everything she’d been through that day, her hair still smelled really good. And despite being tall and lean, she was soft against him. His brain churned through the complications, but his body cut right to the chase.
He wanted her. He’d wanted her from the moment he’d seen her on the TV screen. He wanted her more now. This was dangerous. She was dangerous. I need to keep my head clear. Be able to make the right call, even if it means she walks away .
And if it put her life at risk? He couldn’t let that happen. There had to be a way. He lifted his eyes to find Liz Morton giving him a distrustful glare.
‘I didn’t know you two knew each other, Mr Smith,’ Morton said. ‘I was very surprised to read your name in the first responder’s report.’
‘Detective,’ Grayson said, ‘Miss Holden narrowly escaped with her life. She’d like to get home and I’d like to get back to work. Can we move this along?’
Morton gave a stiff nod. ‘Certainly. Tell me what happened, Miss Holden.’
Paige sighed, then repeated the story she’d told Detective Perkins.
‘And you can’t describe his face?’ Morton asked, her skepticism clear. ‘Really?’
Paige didn’t try to hide her irritation. ‘Really, Detective. I’m a black belt, third dan. I’ve been competing in tournaments for years. I’ve fought dozens of opponents in the ring and most of the time I can’t describe their faces either. I can tell you if they’re male or female, short or tall. Brown hair or blond. But eye color? No. Features? No.’
‘So, what can you describe, Miss Holden?’ Morton asked.
‘Their hands. Their feet. Whatever is coming at my face at striking speed. I can tell you what kind of knife the man used today, down to the pattern on the hilt. But I cannot describe his face and I resent your implication that I’m lying.’
She’s good , Grayson thought. Really good . Morton’s cheeks had gone a dull red.
‘Why do you think he attacked you?’ Bashears asked kindly. Grayson hoped that he and Morton had planned the good cop/bad cop routine. If they hadn’t, Morton was a real bitch. Of course she’d nearly lost her old partner, for which she blamed Maynard. And by association, Paige. Grayson decided to cut Morton some slack.
‘I don’t know why,’ Paige said, and he watched her visibly relax. She seemed to be good at calming herself. Being shot last summer had apparently given her lots of practice.
‘Did he say anything when he grabbed you?’ Bashears asked.
‘No, not a word. He wore gloves so I doubt you’ll get prints off the knife.’ Paige bit at her lip, considering. ‘He was a trained fighter, though.’
‘How do you know that?’ Bashears said, surprised.
‘He didn’t anticipate my first move. I surprised him enough to avoid getting my throat slit in the first five seconds. But after that, it was like kicking an iron post. I wasn’t going to get away.’ She swallowed. ‘His knife was inches from my gut and he had a good hold on it.’
‘But you kicked it away,’ Bashears said. ‘It landed under your truck.’
‘Only because Mr Smith stunned him. If he hadn’t . . .’ A genuine shudder shook her and Grayson ran his hand halfway up her back and down, to soothe.
Maynard noted the touch and frowned. Grayson ignored him, keeping his eyes on Morton who watched him like a hawk. He wasn’t buying that Morton was a dirty cop. But she was a pain in the ass. She’d taken bad cop too far.
‘Which brings us to you, Mr Smith,’ Morton said, her temper restrained, but still evident. ‘What were you doing there, in the garage with Miss Holden?’
‘Right place, right time.’ Which was not
Once outside, Paige angled her body so that she could see both Bashears and Morton without turning her head. This put her closer to Grayson who couldn’t stop himself from drawing a deep breath. Despite everything she’d been through that day, her hair still smelled really good. And despite being tall and lean, she was soft against him. His brain churned through the complications, but his body cut right to the chase.
He wanted her. He’d wanted her from the moment he’d seen her on the TV screen. He wanted her more now. This was dangerous. She was dangerous. I need to keep my head clear. Be able to make the right call, even if it means she walks away .
And if it put her life at risk? He couldn’t let that happen. There had to be a way. He lifted his eyes to find Liz Morton giving him a distrustful glare.
‘I didn’t know you two knew each other, Mr Smith,’ Morton said. ‘I was very surprised to read your name in the first responder’s report.’
‘Detective,’ Grayson said, ‘Miss Holden narrowly escaped with her life. She’d like to get home and I’d like to get back to work. Can we move this along?’
Morton gave a stiff nod. ‘Certainly. Tell me what happened, Miss Holden.’
Paige sighed, then repeated the story she’d told Detective Perkins.
‘And you can’t describe his face?’ Morton asked, her skepticism clear. ‘Really?’
Paige didn’t try to hide her irritation. ‘Really, Detective. I’m a black belt, third dan. I’ve been competing in tournaments for years. I’ve fought dozens of opponents in the ring and most of the time I can’t describe their faces either. I can tell you if they’re male or female, short or tall. Brown hair or blond. But eye color? No. Features? No.’
‘So, what can you describe, Miss Holden?’ Morton asked.
‘Their hands. Their feet. Whatever is coming at my face at striking speed. I can tell you what kind of knife the man used today, down to the pattern on the hilt. But I cannot describe his face and I resent your implication that I’m lying.’
She’s good , Grayson thought. Really good . Morton’s cheeks had gone a dull red.
‘Why do you think he attacked you?’ Bashears asked kindly. Grayson hoped that he and Morton had planned the good cop/bad cop routine. If they hadn’t, Morton was a real bitch. Of course she’d nearly lost her old partner, for which she blamed Maynard. And by association, Paige. Grayson decided to cut Morton some slack.
‘I don’t know why,’ Paige said, and he watched her visibly relax. She seemed to be good at calming herself. Being shot last summer had apparently given her lots of practice.
‘Did he say anything when he grabbed you?’ Bashears asked.
‘No, not a word. He wore gloves so I doubt you’ll get prints off the knife.’ Paige bit at her lip, considering. ‘He was a trained fighter, though.’
‘How do you know that?’ Bashears said, surprised.
‘He didn’t anticipate my first move. I surprised him enough to avoid getting my throat slit in the first five seconds. But after that, it was like kicking an iron post. I wasn’t going to get away.’ She swallowed. ‘His knife was inches from my gut and he had a good hold on it.’
‘But you kicked it away,’ Bashears said. ‘It landed under your truck.’
‘Only because Mr Smith stunned him. If he hadn’t . . .’ A genuine shudder shook her and Grayson ran his hand halfway up her back and down, to soothe.
Maynard noted the touch and frowned. Grayson ignored him, keeping his eyes on Morton who watched him like a hawk. He wasn’t buying that Morton was a dirty cop. But she was a pain in the ass. She’d taken bad cop too far.
‘Which brings us to you, Mr Smith,’ Morton said, her temper restrained, but still evident. ‘What were you doing there, in the garage with Miss Holden?’
‘Right place, right time.’ Which was not
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