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Strong arms closed around her before she could complete the call.
She couldn't think. A crushing fear swept over Emilie. Her flight or fight response stalled.
"This is why you shouldn't go running around by yourself. If I were the Taker, I'd have you."
She sagged into Nathan's arms.
"You dirty son-of-a-b.i.t.c.h." She twisted around and punched his broad chest. "What gives you the right to do to scare me half to death?"
"Ouch." Nathan rubbed the spot where she'd hit him. "I'm trying to help you."
"You had your chance. You said no."
"And you were mad as h.e.l.l. I knew you'd try something like this. I'm just glad I managed to catch you at your house before you left for the library. I thought work was going to keep me."
Emilie noticed the circles around his eyes and his five-o'clock shadow. "You've been up since yesterday?"
"Yeah. That's my shift."
"The bank robbery wasn't at night."
"I got paged."
They glared at each other. Emilie couldn't decide if she was more furious or touched. Nathan had pulled a shady trick, but he'd stayed up to keep an eye on her when he clearly needed to sleep.
"You're an a.s.s."
"I'm sorry." He held up his hands. "I shouldn't have scared you like that. But you can't just be running around especially after what you just found out."
"You were spying on me in the library?"
He shrugged.
"Why didn't I see you? Why didn't you say anything?"
"You didn't see me because I didn't want you to. And I didn't want to interrupt. You were doing just fine on your own."
"He's from the South." Emilie glanced back at the library. She was having trouble looking into Nathan's eyes.
"Explains why Ronson's not turning up anything in the tri-state area."
"What's she looking for?"
"Previous crimes with the same MO."
A chill washed over her. "You think he's done this before, then?"
"We think so." Nathan yawned. "Where to now?
"You're the cop. What do you think?"
"This is your investigation. I'm just along for the ride."
"So now you're going to help me?"
"I guess it's the least I can do for scaring the s.h.i.t out of you. Besides, I can't have you running around by yourself."
"Thanks." Her body thrummed at his tone. Did he want to protect her? "The Taker told Rich.e.l.le he was working on a project for the historical society. Can you stay awake long enough to follow me there?"
"I'll do better than that. I'll drive."
Nathan slid into the driver's seat. Emilie sat next to him, hands in her lap. Her face was pink from the heat and her hair hung loose around her neck. He felt bad for scaring her, but she needed to understand how vulnerable she was. What if he hadn't been there and the Taker had? Emilie would have vanished and police wouldn't have any idea where to start looking.
"Why are you driving?"
"It's just easier than trying to chase you through traffic."
Awkward silence hung between them as Nathan navigated the streets.
"So tell me about you." Emilie broke the quiet. "Did you grow up here?"
"North Las Vegas." He laughed at Emilie's expression. "Yeah I know, not exactly suburbia. My dad always said he wasn't afraid of intruders, but Kelsi and I knew about the gun he kept locked in his nightstand."
"Did he ever have to use it?"
"No, our house never got broken into. My family's construction office did, though. Dad and my Uncle Jimmy started the business when Kelsi was born."
"So why didn't you go into the family business?"
That was a loaded question. "Long story."
"Come on. Thanks to the first amendment, you know more of my history than I ever wanted anyone to. Even the score, please."
The need to tell her hit him in the gut. Words he hadn't spoken in years began to tumble out of his mouth. "When I was kid, I made a bad decision and it got my uncle killed." He cut into the left lane and pa.s.sed a van packed with tourists.
"That's awful." Emilie's husky voice softened. Her left hand shot toward him; she clenched her fist and returned the hand to her lap. "But you were a kid who made a mistake."
"One bad decision can ruin lives."
"Believe me, I know."
"I'm figuring that out about you."
"Is that why you're a cop?" She diverted his attempt to turn the conversation around. "To atone for whatever happened?"
"Perceptive. That sounds like something my sister would say."
"Then I'm probably right."
"I became a cop to make a difference."
"Did you always want to be in SWAT?"
"To be honest, I never even thought about it. I just wanted to be a good cop. SWAT recruited me."
"I see. You're one of those guys, aren't you?" Emilie laughed.
"What guys?"
"Success comes naturally to you. It's like a genetic trait."
"Is that bad?"
"Not at all. I just mean you're good at everything you set your mind to. Some people are just like that. I envy you."
"Don't. My life certainly hasn't been perfect."
"That's not what I meant. Some people have to struggle just to be average while others excel. That's all."
She fell silent again. Nathan wondered what category she would put herself into. Emilie didn't strike him as the type to consider anything she achieved as something to be proud of.
The Nevada State Museum and Historical Society was located in Lorenzi Park, a neighborhood edging toward the rough side. Nathan pulled out his badge for the guard and asked to see the historical society's director.
A short man in a three-piece suit greeted them. "Rick Tanner. How can I help Las Vegas Metro today?"
"This isn't official business, but we're looking for someone," Nathan answered. "How many people are working on your storm drain project?"
"Storm drain project?" Tanner shook his head. "We don't have anything like that going on."
"Did you a few months ago?" Emilie asked.
"Nope. We haven't done a lot on the drains. Not exactly a favorable part of history."
"Has anyone else come around in the last few months asking about the drains or the mob's history?" Emilie asked. "Looking for hidden tunnels?"
Tanner shook his head. "Was there anything else?"
"No," Nathan said. "Thanks for your time."
Outside, Emilie kicked the decorative pebbles that lined the museum sidewalk. "d.a.m.n. Now what?"
"Tell Ronson about the southern accent and let her handle it."
"There's got to be something more I can do."
"There isn't."
"What about going back to the art gallery? I could get the sign-in sheet and cross-check names with the names of hotel employees. Maybe I could come up with something."
"Emilie, the cops are already doing that. And they're going through surveillance videos from the Bellagio and Bauman's."
"I have to do something." She grabbed his arm. "Please, help me."
The air surrounding them grew thick. A loud sound rushed through Nathan's head-a strange gust of fast moving air. Energy flared between them so strongly Nathan's ears rang. Heat crept through his body, every nerve ending on high alert as he reacted to the look in her green eyes and the feel of her hand on his hot skin.
"Please," Emilie whispered.
"There's not much else you can do." His mouth had gone dry. "We need more information."
She let go of his arm. "I hate this."
"I know."
She fiddled with her necklace. It was shaped like a bell and chimed softly when Emilie touched it.
"This is never going to end. I'm going to be looking over my shoulder for the rest of my life."
"Yes, it will. We'll get him." Nathan was. .h.i.t with the sudden urge to touch her face and draw her close. He settled for brushing her hair back over her shoulder. The charge was back, crackling all around them. He exhaled a shaky breath. He couldn't let this woman get to him.
"We better get you back to your car. And I need a nap."
Chapter Twenty-One.
Julian fumed. The cop had touched her. Emilie hadn't stopped him. Why? Did she care for him? Was there another obstacle standing in the way of their future?
"Sorry about the interruption." Rick Tanner waddled back into his office.
Julian waved him off. "No need to apologize."
"I don't like to waste your time, Mr. Batier. You're one of the museum's most valued benefactors."
"I appreciate that."
"Now, let's get down to business. You've something to show me?"
"I have." Julian sat a small box on Tanner's immaculate desk. "A friend of mine procured this, and I thought the museum would enjoy it." He opened the box. Tanner reached inside, his tongue darting over his lips.