Love Inspired Suspense April 2015 #2 by Dana Mentink, Tammy Johnson, Michelle Karl Page A

“I’ll make sure nothing happens to her. LeeAnn would want it that way.”
    â€œHow do you know what LeeAnn would have wanted?” Mick could not believe he’d said it, actually used her name out loud, but there was no turning back the anger that ticked up inside. What did this scrawny neighbor know about anything?
    John’s chin went up. “Because she loved me.”
    In your dreams
. Mick caught himself before he said it aloud.
    â€œIt’s not your call, Dr. Bender,” Uttley said.
    His chin went up. “I’ll do whatever I have to do to keep Keeley away from Rivendale.”
    â€œEnough.” Keeley shouted the word that stopped all three men in midsyllable. She fired a withering glance at them. “I am not leaving this house. I am going to do whatever I can to help capture Tucker so I can have my life back. Whoever wants to play bodyguard can jolly well pitch a tent in the front yard, but Tucker took away my sister and separated me from Junie and I’m not, let me say it again,
not
going to let him drive me out of this house.”
    Uttley blinked. Mick stilled the smile that threatened. Tough as steel. Lovely as a sunrise. Keeley Stevens continued to surprise him.
    â€œI’m trying to keep you safe,” John said, taking hold of her forearms.
    Mick itched to move him forcibly out the front door.
    â€œThank you,” she said. “But it’s not your job to keep me safe.” She added in a lower tone, one filled with compassion. “And it wasn’t your job to protect LeeAnn, either.”
    No, Mick thought with a sudden stab of pain.
It was mine.
    John fell back a step, breathing hard through his nose. Without another word he turned on his heel and left.
    Mick didn’t mind that one little bit.
    * * *
    The police finally departed. Keeley felt the fiery courage that had filled her only a few moments earlier ebbing away. She caught sight of her precious camera and groaned. “And I still didn’t get my picture.”
    A beeping noise sounded from the kitchen, but she could not move from the sofa where she had collapsed.
    After a moment’s hesitation, Mick snapped into action. With a pot holder, he removed the browned loaf of bread from the machine and set it on the counter, whacking it gently loose from the pan.
    â€œButter’s in the fridge,” she said automatically.
    â€œDo you want a slice now?” he said.
    â€œYes. With butter, please. Lots.”
    He duly slathered a slice for her and carried it to her on a piece of paper towel.
    â€œYou eat a piece, too,” she said.
    â€œNot...”
    â€œPlease.”
    He cut another slice, sans butter.
    They ate.
    The warm, tender bread, studded with cinnamon and raisins and glistening with melted butter settled her nerves. “Do you like it?”
    He gave her a thumbs-up.
    For some reason it pleased her to know it. “It makes the best toast in the morning. Junie loves raisin toast.” A rush of grief surged through her body, and it took every ounce of self-control for her not to cry again. “I want my baby back.”
    â€œGood news is Tucker doesn’t know where she is, or he wouldn’t have bothered busting your window.”
    She stared at him. “You sure know how to cheer a girl up.”
    He sighed. “Sorry. I could try to help.”
    â€œHow?”
    â€œTomorrow, I can drive you up to our sanctuary. You can get some amazing photos there, I promise.”
    â€œAnd?”
    â€œAnd what?”
    â€œI hear an ulterior motive in your voice.”
    â€œAnd my father’s a retired private investigator. He might be able to help us get a lead on Ginny.”
    She examined him closely. Broad shoulders, fingers drumming on the knees of his jeans, square jaw tight with some kind of tension. “What I really want is to do this alone, Mick. I know you’re trying to help, but having you here, it’s hard for me.”
    He