When Night Falls by Jenna Mills Page A

father.” She paused, surprised by the words falling from her mouth. They applied to her father as easily as they applied to the man she was coming to know.
    She wasn’t sure who needed to hear them more.
    “I never realized how much he loved us, how hard he tried, how difficult emotion was for him, until he lay in his hospital bed, a shell of his former self.”
    Liam held her gaze, each breath he drew thickening the air around them. Jess tried to move away, look away, couldn’t. She was too drawn to what she saw in his gaze. In other men, she would label it compassion, but she knew better than to entertain that dangerous notion with the stone man who didn’t allow himself human traits like emotion.
    The odd glitter more likely stemmed from the formulation of some plan, the cataloging of the information she’d just handed him.
    “Detective?”
    “What?” she asked, blinking back the painful memories, the even more painful realities.
    “I wasn’t sure you were still with me. Thought you might have run away again.”
    She squared her shoulders. “I don’t run away anymore, Mr. Armstrong. That was a lesson I learned well enough the first time.”
    “Oh, I’m not so sure about that.” He stepped closer to her.
    Recognizing the tactic, Jess held firm.
    But God, how she wanted to back away. To breathe.
    “What you’re sure about really doesn’t matter, though, does it?” She slid the pager from her pocket and saw that Kirby wanted her down at the station. Something about a big break. “Look, I’m needed downtown.”
    Armstrong streaked a finger down the side of her face. “What was it you said about not running away, Detective? We’ve just barely scratched the surface.”
    Heat rushed through her. “Funny.” She forced herself to speak. “That’s all it took to get rid of my itch.” Proud she’d kept the breathlessness from her voice, she turned and walked out the door.
    * * *
    “That man belongs behind bars,” Adam Braxton snarled. The punk had called Kirby, said he needed to talk. Seated across the interrogation room table from him, Jess took a moment to study the boy to whom Emily Armstrong had given her heart. With his moody eyes and angry mouth, it was easy to see why the teenage girl had fallen hard and fast.
    Jess had no such problem. She still felt the sting of his fist on her jaw.
    “You sure your accusations against Mr. Armstrong have nothing to do with the fact he opposed your relationship with his daughter?” she asked point-blank.
    Braxton leaned across the table. “You saw him last night—he’s out of control.”
    Kirby turned to look at her. “Last night?”
    She lightly touched her injured mouth. “Later.” Slapping the punk with an assault charge appealed, but Jess wasn’t interested in the scandal doing so would invoke, particularly with William Armstrong’s involvement.
    “As I recall,” she said to Braxton, “you were the one out of control.”
    “That lunatic attacked me. No telling what he would have done if you hadn’t come along.”
    The punk was wasting her time. “What does all this have to do with Emily?”
    “She’s scared of him, too. Her mom couldn’t take it and cruised, and now Emily has, too.”
    “You sure she isn’t with you?”
    “I wish she was,” he said with great drama. “Then, at least, I’d know my girl’s safe.” He leaned across the table. An odd light glittered in his eyes. “Just look around. No one stays in that man’s life for long. He’s got a track record. The clues are all over the place, if you can get past your hots for him and see the truth.”
    Jess stiffened.
    “Hots for him?” Kirby echoed.
    “I saw the two of you,” Braxton went on. “Huddled in that alley. You couldn’t keep your hands off each other.”
    Jess pushed to her feet. “Need I remind you what happened inside that barroom? Perhaps you’d like an overview of what happens when someone assaults an officer.”
    Kirby stood, as well. He glanced from