Chapter One
Lincoln
Are they putting Lexie in handcuffs?
“Eric, will you load the dogs in the van and stay inside with them?” My tone was erratic as I attempted to infuse calm for his sake.
“Sure,” he said easily, casting a glance toward the building behind him. We were supposed to be going into the commercial kitchen. I was grateful he didn’t argue.
I needed two bodies . . . one to help Lexie and one to shield Eric from whatever nonsense was happening a few feet away.
“Lincoln?”
I’d taken three steps when he spoke my name. Slowly, I turned, trying to keep one eye on Lexie and the other on him.
The easy and generally happy demeanor of Lexie’s brother had been replaced by confusion and worry. Those people had caused that. I wanted them to pay.
“What’s going on?” he whispered, his gaze squarely focused on Lexie.
It was impossible not to see they had her detained.
“I don’t know.”
Where were my reassurances that everything would be fine? That I could handle the misunderstanding. Because Lexie did not deserve to be in handcuffs.
I strode toward her, eating up the crumbled pavement of the alley as I went.
Her gaze locked on mine.
A troubled, almost dazed, look was in those jade eyes. They begged me to help. And for once, I had no idea what to do.
“I believe a mistake has been made.” What I’d wanted to say was “get her out of those cuffs now.”
I hoped there was some semblance of relaxed control in my voice, but all I heard was a deafening roar of fear that made me want to lash out.
The woman standing near Lexie started, as if she hadn’t seen me coming. The man placed a hand on his hip.
Lexie wasn’t going to jail. And no one was going to be injured in the process.
“This doesn’t concern you,” he said. “Step away.”
“It very much does,” I returned coolly.
“Lincoln.”
In the way she spoke my name, there was a don’t allow them to take Eric, get them to release me, and stay out of it, I can fight my own battles all rolled into one.
She hadn’t abandoned me when I’d been the one in cuffs, but even if she had, I wasn’t going to leave her on her own. Did she know that?
“Sir, please don’t impede an investigation,” the woman said.
“Investigation? This appears to be an arrest, not an inquiry.” My jaw hurt, it was so tight. I can play nice if it helps Lexie.
Her nostrils flared. “How are you involved with Miss Logan and Eric?”
I focused on Lexie. “She’s my partner.”
Inwardly, I cringed. Girlfriend was too juvenile for what was happening between us. I’d meant partner respectfully, that I saw her as an equal, but it sounded cold. We hadn’t established any sort of relationship verbally, and I was at a loss as to how to describe exactly what we were.
She’d wrecked my walls with her tongue lashings and strawberry ice cream and ugly sweatshirts and hellos.
But these two weren’t privy to that. It was ours. Private.
Lexie’s gaze dimmed. My response was unsatisfactory.
She straightened her shoulders. “In the event of my absence, Beau Hollingsworth is responsible for the care of my brother.” She was firmly in control while I was spiraling out of it.
Wait. What?
Was Beau aware of this? And why hadn’t she mentioned it?
Lexie was the definition of collected. Of course she’d have made arrangements for Eric in case something happened. She took her responsibility for him beyond seriously.
I went rigid. Eric was already in the best care possible. I’d be damned if I allowed that to change.
“Is this a written agreement?” the woman asked. “And if so, have you filed it with the state?”
“Yes, the agreement is written. We had it notarized, and I gave the document to Mrs. Kipling. She worked for the department eighteen years ago. It should be in our file.” Lexie didn’t flinch as she rattled off the facts. Because she was stronger than I’d ever be.
“I’ll need to see it before we can allow her to take Eric.”
“Who’s taking me?”
My chest tightened to the point I thought it would crack. He was innocent. Lexie was innocent. These people had no regard for that.
“No one.” The two words were a quiet thunder when they escaped me, impossible to doubt.
“That’s not up to you,” the woman said.
“Ms.—”
“Mrs. Shepherd,” she finished.
“Mrs. Shepherd.” The pleasant yet firm expression on my face, the tone of my voice, and the words in my head jolted me. I sounded and thought just like my father. I’d been half a breath away from threatening this woman in the same way he’d done to the agent who’d attempted to arrest me. I didn’t want to be him . . . but I’d do it in a heartbeat if it kept Lexie from being separated from Eric. I’m just like him. The shocking realization stuttered my brain. Somehow, I kicked the thought out and focused on the situation. “Beau is my sister. If you’ll allow me a few minutes to contact her, I’m certain we can resolve this.”
“I’m taking Miss Logan in regardless.” The man who appeared to be an officer in street clothing stared me down.
I glared. How dare he speak that way in front of Lexie and Eric? Had he no sense of decency?
“Taking her in where?” Eric asked, panicked.
“Inside, right?” Lexie smiled brightly, though it was all for show. “Will you get started on the batch of dog food for tomorrow while I talk to them?”
I marveled at her. While I was barely keeping it together . . . Was this how Beau and Teague felt when I was in cuffs?
“Okay,” he said hesitantly. “Is Beau coming?”
“We’ll see.” She kept up that positivity.
“Shall we go into the kitchen?” I gestured in that direction, though it wasn’t a suggestion.
They all shuffled toward the building, except Lexie, who moved with the grace and elegance of royalty.
Muffy’s face appeared in the window of the van. It wasn’t hot, so they’d be okay until we could get this sorted.
Discreetly, I tilted my head at the officer in a hang back motion. He slowed his steps, and we let the others get some distance ahead.
“My family hosts the NYPD Picnic In The Park every year. Do you ever go?” I hated flaunting my status, but the situation called for me to use every means necessary to help Lexie.
“Every year. The kids love it.” He flicked his chin. “I’ve seen you and your father there too. You never miss.”
Somehow, I breathed easier that he’d noticed, though I’d never once written a check for the event with the thought of how it would benefit me in the future. In a way, I felt like my father, using every possible advantage.
“We wouldn’t dare. The work you do for the city is too important.” And that was the truth. I just hoped he’d see it.
“It’s a good time. Nice to be appreciated.”
I nodded and waited a beat before I opened my mouth again. I was eager for information, but wanted this conversation to seem natural.