Yuletide Defender by Sandra Robbins Page B

hadn’t he asked her to dinner again? He started to punch in her number again, but then he shook his head. Slipping the phone in his pocket, he climbed from the car. He was taking her to dinner and the ballet tomorrow night. He needed to remember he was a policeman going to a stakeout like he’d done so many times in the past. The only difference was that this time the woman accompanying him could prove to be a distraction. He had to make sure that didn’t happen.
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    His cell phone, still hooked to the charger, lay on the dresser where he’d placed it the night before. He picked it up and smiled. The icon on his BlackBerry alerted him that Rachel Long had some phone messages he hadn’t heard.
    He carried the phone into the kitchen, poured himself another cup of coffee and sat down at the kitchen table. So far the messages he’d retrieved from her cell phone had been to David Foreman, the man she called her second father, one to her mother and one to Matt Franklin about picking him up for dinner. Nothing of much interest. Although he did wonder what was up between Matt and Rachel.
    His eyes grew wide as he heard Rachel and Matt discussing a meeting she’d had with a source last night and how Matt had scared her when she returned to the car. He sat up straight when they mentioned the meeting at Pepper’s Bar tonight.
    Rage filled him and he pounded his fist on the table. They knew! And he’d gone to such lengths to get the fake message to the Vipers that the Rangers wanted to meet with them.
    He took a deep breath and willed himself to think. If Rachel’s source had told her about the meeting, then he must be a Viper. According to Rachel’s conversation, the Vipers had no clue that the Rangers wouldn’t be there.
    The anger he’d felt a moment ago dissolved and he began to laugh. So the Beacon ’s star reporter and Lake City P.D.’s golden boy detective were going to be watching what happened at Pepper’s Bar tonight. He’d try to give them a show they wouldn’t forget.

SEVEN
    R achel and Matt scrunched into the dark recesses of a deserted apartment building’s doorway. A sign across the entrance stated that the building had been condemned and wasn’t suitable for habitation. Boards covered the windows on either side of the door, just as Rachel had seen on many of the buildings a few nights earlier when she’d watched two murders take place. What would she see tonight?
    Across the street, a light from inside Pepper’s Bar lit the sidewalk in front and revealed a small room with tables and chairs scattered about. A string of multicolored Christmas lights, the only attempt at a holiday decoration evident in the neighborhood, cast a garish glow around the two sides and top of the entrance.
    Rachel strained to see if anyone was in the bar but she could see no customers. A man she assumed to be the owner sat on a stool at the bar with his attention directed to a television on the wall. This was either a slow night for business or the regulars had been warned to stay away.
    At the far end of the street, lights burned in the windows of two apartment buildings that looked like they’d fallen on hard times. The people who lived there were probably much like the mother Rachel had interviewed at the last gang murder—locked inside with the shades drawn until morning.
    Rachel’s legs ached from standing in one spot and sheshifted her weight. Matt leaned over and whispered, “Are you all right?”
    She nodded. “What time is it?”
    â€œNearly eleven. We should see something soon.”
    As if on command, a car pulled to the curb in front of the bar. Rachel held her breath and pushed back into the darkness. Matt’s arm circled her shoulder. “Shhh,” he whispered. “We don’t want them to see us.”
    The pounding in her ears echoed through her body. She pressed her hand against her heart in an effort