Dead Wrong - Susan Sleeman Mills & Boon Love Inspired Suspense

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a long time ago. I’m not sure she even remembers it.”

      Mitch wasn’t as certain. When the medic headed for her rig, he looked at Kat, hoping to judge her mood.

      Sitting with her legs pulled up tight in the circle of her arms and her head resting on her knees, she met his gaze. Anguish flowed from her expressive eyes. Her nose had stopped bleeding but was already swelling. Probably broken.

      “Look at her, man,” Tommy said as she lifted an ice pack to her face. “How can you say no?”

      She shivered and stared into the night, her eyes vacant and full of pain. Mitch hadn’t seen her for two years, maybe longer. Not since her adoptive parents’ funeral. They were murdered in a robbery gone wrong. Her adoptive father was a former police officer so all the rank and file had shown up to pay their respects.

      He’d watched her that day, unable to take his eyes off her as she stood in her dress blues for the very last time in her career. Perfect posture keeping her back stiff, shoulders high, arms at her side. Looking strong and in control. Until he caught sight of the raw pain in her eyes and his heart turned over and broke for her.

      But now? Now he didn’t know what he was feeling and that scared him more than he’d like to admit. But he just couldn’t walk away.

      “Fine. I’ll do it,” he said. “But I’m not to blame if it upsets her even more.”

      “Just handle her with kid gloves and you’ll be fine.”

      Mitch headed for the house. Kid gloves, right. How was he supposed to do that when each step gave him a better look at how this creep had beaten her up, making him madder than he’d been in years?

      He fisted his hand. He had to keep things professional. Do his job. Encourage her to recount her horrifying experience. Then help her deal and do everything within his power to catch the killer before he came back to finish the job.

      TWO

      Kat couldn’t get her heart rate to slow, and the thunderous look on Mitch Elliot’s face as he strode up the walk didn’t do anything to help. She should look away from the man who’d once rejected her, but she couldn’t take her eyes off him.

      Over six feet, and dark, he looked dangerous coming out of the mist. Not dangerous like the suspect, but dangerous like a man who refused to be ignored. He always managed to get to her in a way that tested her decision to steer clear of relationships.

      The wind gusted, ballooning out his jacket and blowing tiny needles of rain in her face. She shivered, a tremor starting at her neck and working down her body.

      Mitch stopped in front of her and, without a word, he shrugged out of his windbreaker and handed it to her. As the jacket dangled from his finger, she thought to refuse it, but another shiver had her sliding her arms into the sleeves and feeling the gray flannel lining laced with his musky scent resting soft against her neck.

      He took a deep breath and squatted in front of her. Closer than she’d like, he didn’t make eye contact. Instead, he stared beyond her—maybe at the door or at the officer standing watch. He needed a shave and in this hazy light, he looked more like a bad boy than a homicide detective.

      “You give anyone your statement?” he finally asked, still not looking at her.

      “Not formally.” She looked at her hands, remembering how she’d clawed the killer. “I scratched the suspect and the tech scraped my nails for evidence, but otherwise Tommy’s kept me out here.”

      Despite the warmth of his jacket and the scent of his cologne clinging to the fabric, she shuddered again, and that seemed to bring his assessing, steel-blue eyes her way. “You’re in shock, Kat.”

      “Huh?”

      “Shock. That’s why you’re shivering.”

      “I’m fine. I just need a moment.” Intending to talk with Tommy—maybe escape the piercing eyes that seemed to cut to her core—she rose. Her vision blurred on the edges, and she swayed.

      Mitch shot up and clamped his hand around her elbow. “Easy, Kat.”

      She shook it off and used the column for support, but waves of dizziness continued to assault her. She never fainted. Never. Not at gory accident scenes. Not at homicides. So why now? Why here in front of all these law enforcement professionals?

      She didn’t want to seem like a rookie, falling down at the sight of a body, so she sat down, before dropping into Mitch’s arms embarrassed her more. She lowered her head between her knees and gulped air.

      She felt him sit next to her, the warmth of his leg settling into her chilled skin. He took a deep breath before exhaling loudly, and she wanted to turn to him and let him hold her. To make this all go away for just a moment in the circle of his arms. But she wouldn’t turn to the man she’d once had a huge crush on.

      A rookie crush like all the female recruits wanting him for their training officer.

      Never happened. Not for her or for the other women. The captain must have seen them all swooning over those amazing blue eyes and only assigned male recruits to Mitch.

      Her crush ended, but not before she’d let him know of her interest, and he’d firmly rejected her. Now here he was, sitting next to her, and she needed to start acting like the professional she was and not some woman he cast aside—or worse, a victim.

      Father, I know what I’m going through is nothing compared to the loss of Nancy, but please help me get through this. Help me stay strong, do what I’m trained to do and find her killer.

      She lifted her head and waited for the world to right itself.

      “Better?” He watched her with his trademark stare. One eye narrowed, his mouth lifting a bit on the same side, the other eye dark and deadly intense.

      She nodded.

      “Good. How about telling me what happened?” He pulled a small notebook from his pocket, his gaze saying this was all business for him.

      All business...and the fact that it bothered her made her even more upset. “Nancy called me. She’s an old friend from college and a client of our agency.”

      “And Nancy’s the deceased?”

      She flinched at the clinical terminology. “Yes. Nancy Bodig.”

      He jotted her name on his pad. “Go on.”

      “Her twin brother, Nathan, died two months ago when his car plunged into a ravine. It was deemed an accident, and she didn’t question the ruling until last week.”

      “What made her change her mind?”

      “She kept Nathan’s cell phone active so she could call his voice mail. You know, just to hear his voice every now and then. But the last time she called, a man answered.”

      Mitch’s eyebrow rose. “And she thinks this means his death wasn’t accidental?”

      “Sort of,” Kat answered, knowing how lame it sounded. “He never went anywhere without his phone but the investigating officers didn’t find it at the accident scene.”

      “That doesn’t mean he was murdered. The phone could’ve been stolen or misplaced. Even lost in the crash area. Then someone found it and decided to use it.” He sounded so detached—professional like a cop should be.

      Now she knew how it felt to be on the other side. To be a victim. All she wanted to do was mourn the loss of a friend. Instead, she had to recount how she’d failed Nancy. It was almost too hard to go on. But if she didn’t, this killer would never be caught.

      She took a deep breath. “The state police said the same thing when Nancy approached them. I even told her that when she first came to see me.”

      “But?” He waited, pen poised over his notebook.

      “But then she told me she

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