Not the business.
One of the swinging metal doors moved and then Crosby was there, his dark gaze accusing, assessing and...more. “Calling in reinforcements?”
“Did I appear to need them?”
Instead of answering, his gaze took a slow trip down her body.
Madison struck a pose. “It’s a great snowsuit, right? Soon as I saw it, I had to have it.”
One side of his mouth barely twitched before settling into a hard line again.
A near smile? She wanted to think so.
“Detective Bard wants to speak to you now.”
She affected a pout. “If I have to talk to a cop, I’d rather it just be you.”
Without even a blink, he said, “I’m not a cop anymore, so that won’t do.”
* * *
IT WASN’T EVERY DAY that he took a McKenzie by surprise, so Crosby enjoyed the rounding of Madison’s bright hazel eyes and the slight parting of her lips.
Then all her arrogance rushed back in and she stated, “Impossible. I’d know if you left the police force.”
“Apparently not.” He took her arm and urged her from the room, not in the least surprised when her confidence melted into the mien of an untrained person. Somehow she managed to look rattled, unsure and wary all at the same time.
Crosby barely resisted rolling his eyes.
Not that long ago he’d crossed paths with the McKenzie family. For a while, he’d suspected her father of organizing vigilante justice, with her two brothers employed to see through well-planned rescue missions. Too many times human traffickers had been thwarted, practically dumped on the doorstep of the precinct with all necessary info to make a tidy sweep of the scumbag perpetrators, along with their contacts and clientele.
Crosby had appreciated the end results, but not the methods utilized. It had taken a lot of diligence, but he’d finally found his way to the McKenzie clan. No problem.
That is, no problem except for Madison. She was the tech whiz, and he did mean whiz. Practically genius level. If she wanted to hack NASA, she probably could. Hell, even the White House might not be safe.
That alone made him uneasy, but then for her to set her sights on him? Talk about unnerving a man.
It didn’t help that she was equal parts gorgeous and bold. Nearly six feet of slender femininity shot through with brilliance and wrapped in capability.
For too many reasons she unsettled him, and that was a new feeling for Crosby. Didn’t stop him from wanting her, but he wasn’t an idiot. That road led to trouble, and he had enough on his plate already.
Standing back, arms crossed, Crosby watched her weave her spell on Detective Bard. The poor dude never stood a chance. He bought her act, every trembling, grateful, soft-spoken second of it.
Hell, even Winton and Owen looked convinced, and they’d watched her easily annihilate a grown man.
Good thing he wasn’t a cop anymore, or he’d have to set the record straight. The goons still might, but who would believe them? They each had long records of petty crimes, like trespassing, simple assault, vandalism and public intoxication. Now there was proof that they’d been harassing Winton and other small neighborhood businesses, forcing them to pay for “protection.” What a joke.
Luckily, he’d just put an end to that.
Poor Madison. She’d shown off her skills with ease, but now couldn’t gloat about it. Too many people were willing to give Crosby the credit for taking down all three men.
It’d be hilarious if he was dealing with anyone other than the McKenzies. Madison might be the only one on the scene right now, and God knew she was enough, but he wouldn’t be surprised if the rest of the family had their noses in it before the day was over.
Once the thugs were taken away and the police left, Madison went right back to cleaning, swinging the mop with practiced ease. Swipe, rinse, wring, repeat.
Her family had deep pockets, so he hadn’t expected her to even know how to clean.
Was there anything she couldn’t do well?
“Whew, it’s getting warm.” Propping the mop handle against the counter, she dragged down the snowsuit zipper even more, down and down and down, all the way to the flare of her hips, then she peeled off the top layer and let it hang over her stellar tush.
Beneath the snowsuit she wore a black turtleneck that hugged her breasts and fit snug to her narrow rib cage. Using both hands, she gathered her long light brown hair, then asked Winton, “Do you have a rubber band or anything?”
Owen scrambled to a drawer and produced one with a flourish that left his face hot.
Recognizing that infatuated look, Crosby figured the poor kid would be dreaming of Madison for weeks.
She bent forward at the waist, quickly put her hair into a high ponytail and straightened again—still looking like a wet dream.
“I’m going to change this water. Be right back.”
All three of them watched her roll the bucket to the back room.
Winton slowly turned to stare at Crosby. Owen grinned.
Shaking his head, Crosby said, “No. It’s not like that, so don’t get any ideas.”
“Too late,” Owen said, then he quickly ducked the smack his dad aimed at the back of his head. “I’ll, um, go see if she needs any help.”
Crosby couldn’t help but laugh. Fifteen-year-old boys—almost sixteen, as Owen said any time his age was mentioned—were made up of testosterone and determination. An uncomfortable combo from what he remembered, though it’d been twenty years since he’d had to deal with that anatomical and emotional upheaval.
“Quit frowning, Winton. He’s a good kid.”
“I know.” Winton sighed. “And he’s currently in love with a cheerleader at his school. But still...”
“Madison will handle it. No worries.” Switching gears and getting down to business, Crosby added, “Thanks for following my lead.”
“You know what you’re doing.” Bracing a hand on the counter and lifting his brows, Winton asked, “What are you doing?”
So much for Winton’s patience. “I know her and her family. Trust me, the less she’s involved, the better.”
“Because?”
Unable to share the reason, he shrugged. “I knew she was following me today.” She was always following him, usually online, but it figured Madison would decide to tail him in person during a snowstorm. “Warning her off wouldn’t have done me any good, and I didn’t want to take the time to try to reason with her.” Lessons in futility weren’t really his thing.