High Noon

to shove a shiv into him multiple times. As a moral woman, as an officer of the law, I’m obliged to deplore that sort of thing. I went out and bought a bottle of champagne, not quite up to these standards, but a very decent bottle. I enjoyed every drop of it.”
    “Glad to hear it.” He gave her hand a quick squeeze. “You’ve had an interesting life, Phoebe.”
    “Interesting?”
    “Well, you can’t claim to have lived in the rut of routine.”
    She laughed. “No, I don’t suppose I can.”
    “I’ve got some insight now on why I saw that purpose in you when you walked into Suicide Joe’s apartment. And you have the sexiest green eyes.”
    She watched him with them as she sipped her champagne. “If you think because I’ve bared my soul, more or less, and have had several glasses of this lovely champagne, I’m going to slide down into the cabin and have wild sex with you, you’re mistaken.”
    “Can we negotiate? Any other kind of sex a possibility?”
    “I don’t think so, but thanks all the same.”
    “How about a walk along the river where I can kiss you in the moonlight?”
    “We can start with the walk.”
    He rose, took her hand. And as she came to her feet, he simply cupped the back of her neck to draw her mouth to his.
    Warm lips and cool air, a hard body and a gentle touch. She gave in, gave up to the moment. Her fingers twined with his and curled tight as she leaned in for more.
    He could feel the strength of her under the soft, soft skin. It was that, he knew, that had pulled at him from the first moment. Those contrasts, those complexities. There was nothing simple, nothing ordinary about her.
    Yet he thought this could be simple—this one thing—this slowly building heat between them.
    So the long, long kiss spun out, hinting of a spark that might flash at any moment, while the deck swayed gently under their feet, and the air blew soft over the water.
    She brought her hand to his chest, kept it there a moment as his heart thumped beneath her palm. Then she used it to ease him back.
    “Someone else has quite a knack,” she commented.
    “I’ve been practicing religiously since I was twelve.” He brought the hand on his chest up, to rub his lips over the knuckles. “I’ve developed a few variations, if you’d like me to demonstrate.”
    “I think that was enough of a demonstration for right now. We discussed a walk.”
    “Probably best to save the variations. I’m not sure you’re ready.”
    “Oh really? Don’t think you can use that kind of maneuver on me. I’m a cop.”
    He stepped off, onto the pier, held out a hand for hers. “Variation Seven’s been known to cause temporary unconsciousness.”
    “That’s a straight dare.” She stepped from boat to dock. “And I haven’t taken a dare since I was seven. We’re walking, Mr. Swift.”
    “Can’t blame a guy for trying.”
    As they walked, she angled her head to study his face. “Variation Seven?”
    “I’m required by law to give the previous warning before use. Now that you’ve been warned, I’m in the clear.”
    “I’ll keep that in mind.”
    Her laugh floated over the water. And her face, bright with it, filled the field glasses.
    He dug into the takeout bag for his fries as he watched her, watched them. And he considered how quick and easy it would be if he had that face of hers in the crosshairs of a rifle scope.
    Bang!
    Too quick, too easy.
    But before much longer, she wouldn’t be laughing.

7
    At her desk Monday morning, Phoebe attacked paperwork, returned calls, then squeezed out time to go over her plans for the upcoming training session.
    It might have been kicking Arnie Meeks when he was down—and absent—but she wanted to lay out the protocol, procedure and psychology of the first responder’s actions.
    Sets the tone, she thought. Arnie had sure as hell set the tone for the Gradey incident. What happened, why it happened, would be strong points made in training, and would illustrate, she hoped, why there were guidelines.
    She added a copy of her own report to the day’s packet, added it along with logs and tapes and transcripts from other incidents.
    She got to her feet when Dave came into her office. “Captain.”
    “Need a minute.”
    “Sure, I’ve got a few before a training session. Want coffee?”
    “No, thanks.” When he shut the door behind him, the muscles between her shoulder blades tightened.
    “Problem?”
    “Could be. I got a call from Sergeant Meeks, Arnold