Sleepless in Savannah by Rita Herron Page B

and slow, lingering with promises. A pebble caught in her red spike-heeled sandal as she tottered up the sidewalk to the front porch, and she paused and jiggled her foot to shake it free. But she caught her reflection in the glass windows flanking the door and winced. Her hair was sticking out in all directions, and the lickety-split job on her face had failed to erase the love bruises from Reid. Oh, well. Just because Sophie didn't want to have fun didn't mean she couldn't. Then again, maybe Sophie had had a fabulous weekend with her date and would be in a good mood.
    She opened the door, but caught the reflection of the Blazer still parked in the shadows. Knowing she couldn't sleep with a pervert watching the house all night, she grabbed her cell phone and called 911. Later she'd work up one of her little protective spells to keep the other perverts away.
    How could Sophie possibly be angry with her when she'd saved them both from a madman?
    * * *
    Lance hadn't expected to fall asleep, but exhaustion had finally gotten to him. Either that or the heat. He'd slumped down on the seat, his head thrown against the window of the driver's side, his legs sprawled in slumber. Minutes later, someone blammed on the door of his truck.
    Jarred from the first stages of REM, he jerked upright, but he was so tired his head immediately fell backward. Good grief, he must be dreaming. He closed his eyes again and decided the blamming sound was a jackhammer. He'd fallen asleep on the job. Reid would have to oversee things; he needed to rest.
    The hammering continued, louder, then a voice. "Open up, sir."
    Sir? Who was talking to him? One of his workers? He had to wake up. He had something important to do... what was it? Pushing against the seat, he swiped a hand across his face and squinted through slitted eyes. A bright light blinded him. The sun? Was it morning?
    He tried to crawl out of bed, but slid and his head hit the steering wheel. Through the rungs of the wheel he noticed a blue light swirling in the sky. A police car? What was a policeman doing at his house? His hand connected with the steering wheel as he dragged himself upright, and he realized he wasn't at home but in his Blazer. Sophie's. Right, he'd been watching her house to protect her.
    The blamming started again. He swung his face sideways and squinted at the sunshine glaring through the window. It wasn't the sun, though. A beefy cop's face was pressed against the window, a flashlight aimed in Lance's eyes.
    Blast it all to hell. Trying to orient himself, he rubbed at his bleary eyes, then threw up a hand to signal that he intended to roll down the window. The officer's hand went to his gun, his expression ominous.
    Lance threw up both hands. "Don't shoot." He swallowed, struggling to unclog his sleep-deprived voice. "What's wrong, Officer?"
    "License and registration."
    Lance nodded and leaned sideways, digging through the crap on his front seat to reach the dash. A hammer and box of nails fell from the seat, nails flying in all directions. He scrambled to retrieve them, and wrapped his hand around the hammer, but too late, he realized the officer thought he planned to use it as a weapon, because he opened the door, his gun drawn.
    "Drop it and step out of the truck, mister. Now."
    The commanding voice brooked no argument. Lance released the tool and pivoted.
    "Have you been drinking, sir?"
    Lance shook his head. "No, just tired."
    "Your words are slurred. How much have you had?"
    "Nothing," Lance said, wishing he could drag his eyes open more than halfway.
    "Step out of the car, sir. And do it slowly."
    Lance stifled a groan, but opened the door and climbed out. A wave of dizziness washed over him from exhaustion, and he wobbled.
    The man's hand clamped down onto Lance's with a steely grip. "Come on. You're going downtown, buddy."
    "But I didn't do anything." Lance steadied himself to an upright position by holding on to side of the truck.
    "A neighbor called and reported a