She scanned the room again, this time looking for hints of something not right. Had Eric sent someone to spy on her? Or was he here now, lurking in the crowd? Waiting for … for what?
Shay glanced away. Oh God! That sounded totally paranoid, even after the day she'd had. She was losing it. More likely that Carly person was one of those female predator drones who got their kicks from targeting another woman's man. She'd certainly tried to pry personal information about James out of her. Where was he from? How long had they known each other? Now that she thought about it-
"Something wrong?"
Shay was surprised to find James gazing intently at her. "No, just thinking." She leaned in a little, hoping to block his view of the bar. "Sorry."
He reached out and ran a finger over her upper lip. "You have a smear of mustard."
Vibrating from his touch, she reached up and carefully wiped her mouth with her napkin. "Better?"
"The view from here is great."
Right. We're on a date. Not part of some thriller movie.
But the mood was spoiled. Shay could feel herself sliding back into her protective shell. It was a short trip from unease to suspicion before her acutely tuned protective instincts slammed into overdrive. No, no, not tonight.
She looked across at James, using his open honest gaze to shock her heart back into its regular rhythm. Nice guy. No, great guy. He deserved better than her. She didn't doubt he would find that better woman without much effort. "You date a lot?"
He chuckled. "I'm not a horn dog."
"But you're dating someone?"
His expression sobered. "Maybe. I'll know more if she says yes to seeing me tomorrow."
Shay looked away, embarrassed that she didn't have enough experience to successfully flirt with a man who made her want to flee one minute, and jump him the next. Her reactions to him were too strong to control.
She shifted her gaze back to the bar. Carly was gone. That should have made her breathe easier but it didn't. She needed to get out of here.
James had been watching Shay all evening, absorbing details like the fact that for the past few minutes she kept glancing nervously over at the bar. At first, he thought she was on the lookout for someone. Maybe Eric. Then he saw the dirty blonde in Daisy Dukes lift her beer in salute. Shay's reaction had been to go as pale as his tighty whities. That didn't make any sense.
On second inspection the blonde wasn't as young as she first appeared to be. And there was something about her attitude. Then he had it. Cop. It was difficult to shed the posture of a law enforcement officer once it had been learned. This woman was, or had been, on the job. He'd swear to it. That didn't explain Shay's reaction to her.
What are your secrets, Shay?
He reached for her hand, as it lay on the table by her plate. His warm palm slid over the back of her cool hand, covering it entirely. "You want to tell me why you need protection? Is it Eric?"
Shay hesitated. "What do you mean?"
"I've seen him in action. Was he abusive throughout your relationship?"
The warmth in her eyes died, and her whole body visibly tensed. She pulled her hand away. "Are you asking as a friend, or a police officer?"
She had asked him that question once before. His answer was still the same. "Whatever you need to be comfortable."
She stared at him for several seconds, no doubt trying to decide how much to trust him.
"Not here. Okay?" She began looking around as if she couldn't wait to get out of the restaurant.
He stood up. "Then let's get the hell out of here."
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
"Damned if I know."
James ducked out from under the hood of her car. "You say the check engine light was on earlier?"
Shay nodded quickly, her arms wound tightly about herself against the autumn chill. "I guess I should have believed it."
"Well, I can't jump it and you have gas. I'm sorry but you're going to have to get it towed."
He watched her face fall. "I take it you don't have Triple A or something. But your insurance should cover it."
She looked down and didn't reply.
"You don't have insurance?"
She glanced across at him, misery making her eyes appear almost black in the dim light of the parking garage. "Liability and bare-bones collision."
"Okay." He closed her hood. "This is what we're going to do. The car should be okay overnight, but take all your belongings. In the morning, I'll call Raleigh police and get a reputable tow."
"Okay." Shay bit her lip. No point in telling him she couldn't afford a tow, much less a repair bill.
James watched her collect what amounted to very little from her car and then opened the passenger door to his cruiser for her. Her anxiety made him want to tuck her under his arm and promise her that bad things would never again happen to her as long as he was around.
But life wasn't like that. He couldn't stop all the big bad wolves from coming to her door, or anyone else's. But he was feeling the urge to try.
* * *
"I'm really sorry about this." Shay sat uneasily in the passenger seat of the cruiser. She had given him directions to her neighborhood.
"No problem. I'm a door-to-door kind of date guy."
Bogart stuck his head through the front hatch between them, tongue lolling out of his mouth, and slurped the side of Shay's face.
She laughed nervously and pushed him away. "The waitress was right. Your kisses need some work."
James glanced at her. "I assume you aren't talking to me."
Shay turned to look out the window so that he wouldn't see her face. She liked him, really liked him.
They drove northwest out of the main part of town. Shay had directed him to avoid the 440 Loop traffic though it took them away from the most direct route to her apartment. Plus, maybe she didn't want to say good night yet, though she was definitely going to leave him at her door.
A little nerve jumped at the corner of her mouth. The problem was, she didn't want to leave him on her doorstep. Or the living room. What would he do about that?
As they left the main part of the city a soft misty rain began to fall. James turned on the radio. To her surprise, it wasn't country. Pink was singing one of her plaintive songs, something about getting up and trying again.
Suddenly, out near Crabtree Creek, the brake lights of the traffic ahead all leaped into brilliance at the same time. The sound of screeching brakes and squealing tires accompanied them.
"Uh-oh." James stepped on his brake and they rolled to a stop behind a double line of cars. "Did you see anything?"
"No, I wasn't paying attention." Shay craned her head forward to gaze between the pulsing windshield wipers.
Moments later a man came running toward them, arms waving. James let down his windshield an inch.
"You a cop?"
James nodded.
The man pointed back up the line of cars. "Car went off the road up ahead. Blew a tire, I think. Jumped the guardrail and went down the incline. There's a creek down there."
"You call 911?"
"Yeah. I'm a trucker. But we need to get down there, pronto."
"Right. Let me move out of the traffic lanes."
Turning his flashing lights on, James drove his cruiser up over the curb and onto the grassy shoulder and carefully edged forward. He didn't move forward all the way to where the railing was because he knew other law enforcement and emergency vehicles would need the space.
Shay eyed him cautiously. "You're going to help?"
He put the car in park before he turned to her. He'd almost forgotten she was with him. "That's right. I want you to stay in the cruiser with your seat belt on. I'm leaving the lights on but there's the chance of being rear-ended because some driver may come along who isn't expecting a sudden stop."
James got out and rushed forward following the trucker. The lights of the stalled traffic lit up the angled beginning of a guardrail. He noted it was bent and scraped. The car must have catapulted over it. Farther ahead, several passengers had emerged from their cars and were looking over the railing above the creek into the darkness below.
As they reached the rim of the incline that led down to the creek bed, James and the trucker paused.
Two men in business suits carried a half-conscious woman up the grassy incline, her body sagging between them. James winced. Good Samaritans often moved people who should not be moved until they'd been examined. But it was too late to point that out.
The woman came to life as they tried to lay her in the grass.
"My baby! My baby!"
She twisted away from them and began trying to crawl back the way they'd come. One of the men reached to restrain her by the shoulder. "It's okay, ma'am. We're going to send someone back down there in a minute."