Page 25 of Claws and Feathers

His sister snorted, seemingly offended. “No, they’re cookies. Give me a little credit, will you? I’m not a middle-aged housewife.”

“That’s nice of you,” Abby replied, stifling her laughter. “Thanks.”

Cooper’s radio suddenly went off and he plucked it from his belt, listening carefully to the static-filled request coming through. “Shit,” he grumbled. “There’s a bad accident off Route 13. I need to go.” He turned to Abby, his eyes softening. “Call me if you need me. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

Abby wasn’t sure what had passed between them that first night at the bar, or when he’d carried her out of that van, or underneath the willow tree, or just a few minutes ago, orright at this moment, but it was confusing and scary and undeniably intriguing. For a split second, there was no accident. There was no Kate. There was no messy past or complicated present.

There was just a girl falling for a boy.

“I’ll be fine,” she finally said. She tore her gaze away from his. It was easier to process words when his pensive eyes weren’t boring holes into her. “I’ve got my handy pepper spray and a sharp tongue. The bad guys don’t stand a chance.” Abby glanced at him for one tiny second and caught a glimpse of the humor etched across his face.

“Maybe I’ve underestimated you.” Cooper gave her a nod and slid past her, heading down the porch steps. He paused in front of Kate. “As much as I enjoy your verbal abuse, duty calls.”

Kate balanced the tray of cookies on one arm and slapped him on the shoulder with her opposite hand. “I’ll be here all night, big bro. Go save some lives or whatever it is you hero types do.” She gave him a wink, then returned her attention to Abby as Cooper walked to his patrol car. “Here’s your cookies. I swear I didn’t poison them.”

Abby met her at the base of the steps and accepted the goodies. “Sweets are the number one way to my heart, so I guess you’re forgiven.” She studied the pretty woman with amber hair and eyes to match. She was petite and wiry, with delicate features and ivory skin.

Kate smiled as she swept her hair to one side. “I never actually apologized, but I’ll take it.”

Abby wanted to hate the younger McAllister – Daphne had basically trained her as much, after all. But… she couldn’t. There was something about her that had the opposite effect on Abby. She wanted to get to know her better. She appreciated her bold personality and sense of humor.

“Anyway, I’ll get out of your hair. I’m sure you’re desperate for some alone time.”

“I appreciate the cookies,” Abby said, clutching the tray in a firm grip. The plate was still warm, and she could even smell the sweet chocolate chips. “Feel free to stop by whenever. Maybe we can… hang out.”

Kate fidgeted in place, though her eyes were agreeable. “Maybe.” She shoved her hands into the pockets of her denim overalls and turned to leave. But then she hesitated, facing Abby one more time. “I rip on my brother a lot, as you’ve probably noticed. It’s a sibling thing,” she said tenderly. Her eyes lowered to the freshly mowed grass as she rocked on the heels of her tennis shoes. “But the truth is, he’s a really good guy. Like… areallygood guy. The best of the best.”

Abby listened intently, her heart rate increasing at Kate’s words.

Kate grinned. “Judging from the way you were looking at him a few minutes ago, I think you already know that.” She raised her hand and waved goodbye, a knowing smile still firmly in place. “I’ll see you around.”

Abby’s grip tightened on the cookie tray as she watched Kate disappear down the dirt road.

Oh, she knew. She knew, all right.

Cooper McAllister was the best of the best. He was a hero.

He washerhero.

But they were too different. He wastoogood. Cooper was the light to her dark. The petals to her thorns. The laughter to her tearful heart.

Some things simply weren’t meant to be.

Chapter eight

Cooper leaned back in his leather rolling chair, his fingers locked behind his head. He let out a heavy sigh laced with defeat and paralyzing disappointment.

They had zero hits on the Optima.Zero.

Not a single soul within a thirty-mile radius matched the description of their suspect. The Withered Man had vanished into thin air. His car had evaporated.

Fuckingpoof.

James threw his pen against his desk as he slammed the phone down. “Goddamn,” he muttered with a shake of his head. “I don’t think I’ve ever worked a case that was this straight up frustrating. This guy has given us everything, but we can’t crack him.”

Cooper ran his hands over his face. They had followed up with every lead. Every possible sighting. And there had beenhundreds. White male, approximately fifty-years-old, withered and lanky. Silver scruff at the time of the abduction. It was a common description, and the truth was, the man could be anywhere by now. He could have fled to Mexico. Ecuador. The moon.

Frustrating was an understatement.

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