Save Me, Santa: A Chirstmas Anthology of Romance & Suspense (4 page)

Yeah, right
.

That was really going to happen. And definitely not in the short time she’d be here in Manhattan. Besides, even if it did, what would he do when it was time for her to leave? Ask her to move in with him?

Perish the thought.

High maintenance
, he reminded himself. Sure, she was sweet as honey and soft as a sigh, but nothing he’d seen last night had changed his mind about that.

Emily was not the kind of woman who’d be content as a cop’s wife. Trying to fit her into his life would lead to endless heartache.

Nope. She had it right. Best to skip that whole scenario.

He puffed out a breath and headed for the precinct, determined to spend another day in that damned Santa suit, camera whirring and silver bell in hand, chasing demons.

Well, one demon in particular, anyway.

And as for his personal demons, well, they’d just have to stand in line.

* * *

Nick arrived at his street corner two hours late. Not that it frikkin’ mattered. Kraznov stalked by on his way to work forty-five minutes later, looking preoccupied. Nick tried not to think about what the bastard might have been up to all morning instead of giving rabies shots. It would just make him crazy.

But one thing he was fairly sure of, Kraznov had
not
been out dog-napping—despite the bizarre coincidence of his name being listed as the prescribing vet on Pogo’s bottle of ear infection pills. As hard as it was for a cop to accept, sometimes a coincidence was simply that.

Nick did not expect to make any headway in the human trafficking case by staking out Kraznov’s office again today. But at least he was taking action, however ineffectual. He couldn’t abide doing nothing while that scumbucket still walked around a free man. Nick didn’t mind working the donation stand. The Widows and Orphans would benefit. And it would keep his mind off other things. Besides, what else did he have to do on a Thursday off, other than brood about the woman who’d just left him behind without a backward glance?

After the incredible night they’d shared.

Damn
. He’d
promised
himself he wouldn’t think about her.

So he concentrated instead on thinking about the case, in-between trying to absorb a bit of Christmas spirit from the passersby. Though the last was nearly as hopeless as the first.

Suddenly, Zenon jumped to his feet, alert, and started to whine. Nick followed his intent gaze and spotted a flurry of activity on the sidewalk half a block down. Someone was running toward them, scattering pedestrians in her wake.

Emily!

Zenon gave a sharp bark and tugged at the leash. Emily was cradling a red and white bundle in her arms. Nick frowned, and strained to see what it was. Judging by Zenon’s reaction it must be Pogo. But it looked like—

Good God!
It
was
Pogo. And she was wrapped in a white towel that was covered in…
blood
! Even from this distance, he could see Emily was utterly distraught as she carefully ran, protecting the bundle like a baby.

Damn
.

Nick grabbed the donation pot from the stand, wrapped Zenon’s leash tightly around his hand, and took off at a sprint toward her. His Santa hat and Zenon’s reindeer antlers went flying, and his white beard had whipped around behind his neck by the time he reached her.

“Are you hurt?” he called, dashing into the street to stop a passing cab.

“Pogo. She got… hit by… a car,” Emily sobbed, her cheeks covered in tears. “Have to get her… to the vet’s.”

The taxi squealed to a halt, and he waved her over to it.

“Hop in. The Chelsea Animal Hospital is just two blocks away. Zenon, up!”

She hesitated. “B-but her pills say—

“You’re not taking her there,” he informed her, urged her in, and slid in after her. He instructed the taxi driver where to go, and handed him enough money to double the fare. “Quickly, please!”

“Why n-not?” she asked, holding Pogo on her lap as gingerly as a melting snowflake.

He shook his head. “Later, okay?”

She was too rattled to protest. Poor Pogo lay trembling in her towel cocoon, only her fuzzy little face peeking out. Her eyes were slitted in pain, but she was conscious, and seemed to be breathing all right.

Zenon sat on the floor between his feet and had his chin on Nick’s knee, peering worriedly at Pogo and whining.

“It’s all right, boy. She’ll be okay,” he told him with a reassuring scratch behind the ears, then told Emily, “Don’t worry. We’re almost there.”

“Thanks for helping me.” She pulled in a stuttering breath, visibly trying to calm herself. “I don’t know what I’ll do if she—”

“She won’t.” He gently drew his thumbs over her cheeks, gathering the moisture from them. “Sweetheart, how did this happen?”

She swallowed, and bit her lip. “I finally spoke to someone who thought they’d seen her cowering under a parked car down on 23
rd
. So I went to look, and I saw her! I was so happy I called her name. Oh, Nick, I wasn’t thinking. She darted out into the street just as a car came around the corner, and…” Her words trailed off.

“Shhh. Honey, it’s not your fault. She’ll be okay.” He leaned over and kissed her temple. “Here we are. Come on.”

He helped her out of the taxi, and for once Zenon obeyed Nick’s commands, trotting obediently at his side as he held the animal hospital door open for Emily, and they descended on the receptionist.

Pogo was immediately rushed in to see the vet. Emily chose to wait anxiously with him in the waiting room for the verdict.

“I’d probably faint,” she confessed fretfully.

“Not every day we get such a distinguished visitor,” the receptionist said as she handed them the paperwork to fill out. She smiled kindly. “I’ve told the doctor to take extra care with your pup, Santa.”

“Appreciate that,” Nick said, recalling the disheveled state of his outfit and pulling off his catawampus beard. He dug for a business card as he stuffed the beard in his pocket, and handed it to her. “I’m actually Detective Nick Palladin, 10th Precinct. Can you let us know as soon as the vet has a prognosis?”

“I’ll go check right now,” she said, and disappeared into the back.

He and Emily took a seat.

“What am I going to tell Cindy?” she murmured worriedly. “She’s going to be furious with me.”

He put his arms around her and pulled her as close to his side as he could in the plastic chairs. “No, she’ll understand. Things happen. Not your fault, remember?”

She sighed, put her head on his shoulder, and traced her fingers down the front of his red plush suit, touching each of the big black buttons. “I’m sorry I dragged you away from your Santa post. Again. I always seem to be disrupting your day.”

“Don’t be silly.” He tenderly pushed a stray hair behind her ear. “You always brighten my day.” Then he made a move. “Well. Except for this part.”

She gave him a watery smile that looked an awful lot like she didn’t believe him. He knew he shouldn’t, but he couldn’t help himself. He leaned over and kissed her. She didn’t object. In fact, she lingered over it. Despite the circumstances, it felt good. Right.

Did that mean she’d changed her mind about him? Or was this just gratitude talking…? He was more confused than ever.

They really would have to talk.

Later.

After filling in the paperwork, she let herself be gathered up in his arms, and they waited like that until the vet appeared. He introduced himself, shook their hands, and said, “Ajax will be just fine. She has suffered some nasty cuts from the pavement when she hit, which is what caused all the bleeding, but there are no broken bones or serious injuries.”

“Oh, thank God,” Emily said on an exhale. “Thank you so much, doctor.” She gave a much-relieved laugh. “But her name is Pogo.”

He looked surprised. “Pogo? Really?” His brows went up. “Strange. Her microchip says her name is Ajax.”

“Oh, I can explain. She’s a rescue… kind of,” Emily said. “My friend must have changed her name when she got her.” She made a face. “No wonder. Ajax isn’t really a girl’s name, even for a dog, is it?”

The vet laughed jovially. “Well, whatever her name is, she needs to take it easy for a couple of days. I’ve given her a sedative so she should sleep well tonight. But no hard celebrating for her birthday tomorrow. Though I suppose an extra treat or two won’t hurt, if she’s up for it.”

Emily blinked. “It’s her birthday tomorrow?” Surely, Cindy would have mentioned that. She adored her dog.

“According to the microchip. The birth date should be accurate, despite the name change.”

Just then the receptionist bustled over with a bottle of anti-inflammatories and a sheet of instructions. After listening carefully to vet’s precautions, Nick sent Emily and Zenon out to hail a cab while he paid the bill, then gingerly took Pogo from the assistant and joined them.

“Poor little thing,” he murmured. She was all bandaged up, and looked positively wrung out, though her tail was wobbling in a feeble attempt at a wag. Zenon kept snuffling at her, and gently bumping her with his nose.

When they got to Emily’s apartment, Nick laid Pogo gently onto her doggie bed in the living room. Zenon curled up next to the bed, and Emily tenderly adjusted her so she wasn’t resting on any of her bandages.

Nick rose and shuffled awkwardly, not sure what was expected. “Well, I guess I’ll—”

“Can you stay?” she asked plaintively, getting to her feet, as well. Then she made a face. “Here I go again. You probably have things to do, and—”

“No. I mean, no I don’t. It’s my day off. And anyway, I’m thinking…” He caught himself, and pressed his lips together.

Damn
.

With a tiny, wry smile, she completed his thought. “And anyway, you’re thinking we probably need to talk?”

Chapter 7

“You read my mind,” Nick said with a nod.

Emily had never been so appalled in her life. Or as terrified.
Oh, God
. What had she
done
? Forcing an honest discussion of their chances at a relationship? Was she completely
nuts
?

He pulled out his cell phone. “But first, I need to call someone to pick up the Widows and Orphans stand and come by for the donation pot. Is that okay?”

She nodded. “Of course.”

Her stomach rumbled, and she suddenly realized she was starving. She checked her watch. No wonder! It was nearly dinnertime and she still hadn’t eaten a bite today.

She also noticed her arm was covered in dog blood. Yuck!

“And I’m going to take a quick shower,” she said, and started for the bedroom. “Then I’ll see if there’s anything I can throw together for dinner. Are you hungry?”

“Famished,” he called after her. “But I can’t imagine you feel like cooking. Why don’t I order takeout? What do you feel like?”

“That would be great,” she called back. “Surprise me. Just no sushi, please!”

She could hear him chuckle. “Got it. No raw fish.”

After her quick shower, she faced a dilemma—what to wear. Wrapped in a towel, she sat on the bed and deliberated. Was he expecting something sexy, like last night? Or would that just derail their talk and cloud the issue on on both their minds?

Which maybe wouldn’t be such a bad thing…

She heard the front door buzzer, followed shortly by the low rumble of male voices. The food? Or his colleague picking up the donations? Either way, it made up her mind, since there’d be a second visitor any minute. She put on a clean pair of jeans and a soft red sweater.

When she walked into the living room, she found Nick on the sofa, fiddling with a small, square thing about the size of a large ring box. “What’s that?” she asked.

“A camera,” he said, with an expression she couldn’t quite decipher.

“Really? What for?” She sat down next to him.

“Remember you asked why we couldn’t go to the vet listed on the pill bottle?” She nodded. “Well, I’ve been staking him out, taking photos of his patients.”

He went on to explain why—that he was certain the vet was the leader of a human trafficking ring, but he had no evidence to prove it. Then he went on to tell the heartbreaking story of a young girl who’d been abducted and abused by the vicious traffickers, and had died in Nick’s arms after confirming his suspicions.

She was horrified—both at the things he believed the man was involved in, and that Cindy had inadvertently taken Pogo to his practice.

She shivered. “That’s awful! I want to go and throw out those pills! Thank goodness you took us to the other vet today.”

Nick grimaced. “I wish to hell I could find some way to nail the bastard. I just don’t understand how he’s doing it—my witness made an unequivocal ID and declaration that he’s the one running the ring, but she died before she could explain. And I haven’t found a single person or piece of communication that links him to their activities to collaborate her accusation.”

Emily frowned. “But… if they’re not communicating, how does he give orders to his minions?”

“Exactly.” He made a sound of aggravation and shot the fingers of both hands through his hair. “Everyone thinks I made up her confession because I’m obsessing on him.” He leaned back against the sofa cushion and jetted out a frustrated breath. “Hell, maybe I am. Obsessing, that is. Not making it up.”

She hesitated for a second, but then figured to hell with it. She wound her arms around him. “No you’re not. You’re being a good detective. They have to see that.”

He tucked her under his arm and pulled her close. “Never mind. Enough of my woes. Come here.”

He gave her a long, deep kiss that made her truly grateful she was sitting down. Her knees melted… along with her heart. The kiss wasn’t pushy, or overtly sexual, but rather it was filled with pent-up emotion and raw feelings. Disappointment and frustration, but also the warmth of hope and a sense of trust she’d never felt before from any man.

When their lips parted at length, she gave a contented hum, and whispered, “I think I was all wrong about you. Again.”

His brows dipped. “Oh?”

“Yesterday, I thought… a man who works as a detective must be boring.” She smiled. “Wrong.”