Carson looked at her—this small, scared woman who’d had the courage to report her fears despite no one believing her. Who’d grown up without anyone to protect her and still managed to trust him with her safety.
Something fierce and protective surged through him. Something that had nothing to do with his job and everything to do with the way she looked at him like he could keep her safe.
Don’t. Don’t get attached. Don’t make this personal.
But it already was personal. Had been since the moment she’d sat across from him in that coffee shop and said everyone thought she was crazy.
“Yeah,” he said. “Let’s go.”
***
Carson set Nora up at a small hotel on the outskirts of town—the kind of place that took cash and didn’t ask questions. Room 214. Second floor,away from the main entrance, with a view of the parking lot so she could see anyone coming.
“Lock the deadbolt,” he instructed, standing in the doorway. “Don’t open it for anyone except me. I’ll call before I come by. If anyone knocks and you’re not expecting them, call 911 first, then me.”
Nora nodded, looking small in the middle of the generic hotel room. “How long do I have to stay here?”
“Until we catch whoever’s doing this.”
“And if you don’t catch them?”
The fear in her voice made his chest ache. “I will. I promise you, Nora. I’ll find them.”
He shouldn’t make promises he couldn’t guarantee. But looking at her face, seeing the desperate need for reassurance, he couldn’t help himself.
She stepped closer, and Carson caught the scent of her shampoo—something floral and clean. “Why are you doing this? Going above and beyond like this. Most cops would’ve just filed a report and moved on.”
Because his sister had disappeared and no one had been able to save her. Because he knew what it felt like to be helpless. Because every victim he helped was another chance to make up for the one he’d failed to protect.
Because looking at Nora Bell made him want to be the kind of man who didn’t let bad things happen to good people.
“It’s my job,” he said instead.
“No.” She shook her head. “It’s more than that. I can tell.”
Too perceptive. Too willing to see past the walls he’d built.
“Get some rest,” Carson said, stepping back before he could do something stupid, like tell her the truth. “I’ll be in touch tomorrow.”
He left before she could ask more questions. Before he could admit that she was right—this was more than just a job.
This was becoming personal in ways he couldn’t afford.
***
Captain Holloway was waiting in his office when Carson got back to the station at nearly ten PM. Not a good sign.
“Close the door,” Holloway said.
Carson obeyed, bracing himself for whatever lecture was coming.
“The Bell case,” Holloway started. “You put her in a hotel.”
“For her safety. Someone’s escalating. They were in her apartment today, sent her a threatening text—”
“I know. I read your report.” Holloway leaned back in his chair. “I also know you’re getting personally involved. Again.”
“I’m doing my job.”
