Page 92 of Hot to Trot

"Sounded real. Want me to check it out?"

"No, I'll go, but send backup."

"Ten-four."

Adam slid into his cruiser, fully alert but suspicious about the nature of the call. He'd never in his ten years as a police officer had someone find a body part. A body? Yeah. A part? No. Very strange.

He headed southeast toward Leonard Road. The sun had dropped in the sky, but heat still radiated in waves off the asphalt. It took him four minutes to reach the turn to Leonard Road, and two more to pull in behind a black convertible BMW.

What in the hell?

He glanced at the license plate. It was Scarlet's car, but she wasn't in sight.

Terror filled him as he automatically flicked open the strap of his gun holster. Could Scarlet be in trouble? Harvey's hard smile invaded his thoughts. Surely he hadn't done anything to Scarlet.

Adam opened the cruiser’s door, stepping onto the gravel on the side of the road. It did not escape him that he stood almostexactly in the spot where he'd pulled Scarlet over for speeding. The day he'd first laid eyes on the woman who would flip him upside down, yank him sideways, and hang him out to dry.

He hoped like hell she was okay.

He drew his gun from his holder and cleared the car, surveying the perimeter. He could see no one at all. He needed backup quickly so he reached for his radio, and then he heard it.

Crying.

The sound caused his hackles to rise. What the devil was going on? He moved cautiously around to the front of the car.

Scarlet sat on the pavement, knees drawn up to her chin, crying as if there were no tomorrow. She looked at him with the most fragile look he'd ever seen, and if he hadn't been so damn relieved to see her unharmed, he might have chewed her ass out.

"What in the hell are you doing, woman?" He asked, holstering his gun.

She shook her head and continued to sob.

He looked left then right again, wondering if he were on some kind of prank show. Like maybe someone might jump out and shout, "You've been punked!"

But there was no one around.

"Scarlet, I got a call about a body part."

She threw something at him. A rock. It pinged against his boot.

"You are stupid!" she shouted, unfurling from her position against the bumper of the car. She wore a pair of high heels and a very short skirt. His mind registered the fact she was off her rocker, but it also sent a message to nether regions about long, bare legs and a spectacular ass.

He took a step back. "Have you lost your mind?"

She jabbed a finger in his chest. Right beneath his badge. "You didn't even bother to come to the airport. You were supposed to come get me."

"Jared said there was a body-"

"It's my heart, you jackass. That's the body part, the one you took and tossed away."

He blinked. "You called in a false report?"

She wiped the tears from her cheeks. "So arrest me."

He didn't know what to do. The woman had called in a false report. But then again the woman stood in front of him. In Texas. On Friday evening. She hadn't gone to Los Angeles.

She was here.

“I-I-don’t know what to say.” He snapped his mouth closed to prove it.

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