It Must Be Love

dates.'

'What kind is that?'

'She usually goes for the squirrely New Age type. The kind of guys who sit around meditating and discussing crap like the cosmic consciousness of man.' The drawer slid shut, and he leaned a shoulder into it. 'You don't look like the kind of guy who likes to meditate.'

Now there was a relief.

'What were you two talking about in the alley?'

He wondered if Kevin had listened at the back door, but he supposed if he had they wouldn't be having this conversation. Joe let a smile slowly curve the corners of his mouth. 'Who said we were talking?'

Kevin smiled back, one of those I'm-in-the-guys-club-too smiles, and Joe left the office.

The first thing that Joe noticed when he walked to the front of the store was the smell, It smelled like a head shop, and he wondered if his confidential informant took frequent trips on the ganja train. It would explain a lot.

Joe's gaze roamed the room, and he took in the odd assortment of old and new. In one corner, fancy pens, letter openers, and boxes of stationery sat on a pigeonhole desk. He glanced at the center counter and a display of antique jewelry in a glass case next to the cash register. He took a mental note of everything before his attention was drawn to the ladder placed by the front window and the woman standing at the top.

Bright sunshine lit her profile, filtered through her long auburn hair, and turned her yellow gauzy shirt and skirt transparent. His gaze slid down her face and chin to her slim shoulders and full breasts. Yesterday, he'd been mad as hell, and his thigh had ached, but he hadn't been dead. He'd been very aware of her soft body pressed tight against him. Of her breasts as he'd checked for concealed and a few minutes later as they'd walked to his car, the cold rain drenching her T-shirt, chilling her flesh and hardening her nipples.

His eyes moved to her waist and the flair of her hips. It didn't look like she was wearing anything beneath her skirt but a pair of bikini panties. Probably white or beige. After tailing her for the past week, he'd developed an appreciation for her nicely rounded behind and long legs. He didn't care what her driver's license said, she was close to six feet tall and had the legs to prove it. The kind of legs that just naturally hooked around a man's waist..

'Do you need some help?' he asked as he moved toward her, raising his gaze up the lush feminine curves of her body to her face.

'That would be great,' she said, pulling her mass of hair over one shoulder and looking down at him over the other. She selected a big blue-and-white plate from a stand in the window. 'I have a customer who will be here sometime this morning to pick this up.'

Joe took the plate from her, then stepped back as she climbed down the ladder.

'Did Kevin believe you're my handyman?' she asked barely above a whisper.

'More than just your handyman.' He waited until she stood before him. 'He thinks you want me for my body.' He watched her run her fingers through her hair, tangling all those soft curls like she'd just got out of bed. She'd done the same thing yesterday at the police station. He hated to admit it, but it was sexy as hell.

'You're kidding.'

He took several steps toward her and whispered in her ear. 'He thinks I'm your own personal boy toy.' Her silky hair smelled like roses.

'I hope you set him straight.'

'Now, why would I do that?' He leaned back and smiled into her horrified face.

'I don't know what I ever did to deserve this,' she said as she took the plate and walked around him. 'I'm sure I've never done anything bad enough to deserve this kind of rotten karma.'

Joe's smile died, and a chill bit the back of his neck. He'd forgotten. He'd seen her standing on that ladder, with sunlight spilling over every soft curve, and for a few minutes he'd forgotten she was crazy.

Gabrielle Breedlove looked normal, but she wasn't. She believed in karma and auras and judging a person's character by the stars. She probably believed she could channel Elvis, too. She was a kook, and he supposed he should thank her for reminding him that he wasn't in her store to stare at her behind. Thanks to her, his career as a detective was on the line, and he had to come through with a big bust. No doubt about it. He removed his gaze from her back and glanced about the shop. 'Where are the shelves you want moved?'

Gabrielle set the plate on the counter next to the cash register. 'There,' she said, pointing to the metal-and- glass shelving system bolted to the wall across the room. 'I want those moved to the back wall.'

Yesterday, when she'd said shelves, he'd assumed she'd meant display cabinets. With the mounting and patching involved, this job would take him several days. If he painted, he could stretch it into two, maybe three, days of searching for anything to nail Kevin Carter. And he would nail him. He didn't doubt it for a minute.

Joe moved across the room to the glass shelves, glad the job would take a while. Unlike the portrayal of police work on television, cases weren't solved in an hour. It took days and weeks, sometimes months, to gather enough evidence for an arrest. There was a lot of waiting involved. Waiting for someone to make a move, mess up, or get ratted out.

Joe let his gaze skim across colored glass and porcelain, silver and pewter picture frames. Several woven baskets sat on an old trunk beside the shelves, and he reached for a small cloth satchel and held it to his nose. He was more interested in what might be inside the trunk than what was on it. Not that he really expected to find Mr. Hillard's paintings so easily. It was true that he'd sometimes found stashes of drugs and stolen goods in obvious places, but he figured he wouldn't be that lucky with this case.

'That's just potpourri.'

Joe glanced over his shoulder at Gabrielle and tossed the small satchel back into the basket. 'I'd already figured that out, but thanks anyway.'

'I thought you might confuse it for some kind of mind-altering drug.'

He looked into her green eyes and thought he detected a glint of humor, but he wasn't sure. It could just as easily be a spark of dementia. His gaze moved past her to the empty room. Carter was still in the office. Hopefully, busy setting himself up. 'I was a narcotics agent for eight years. I think I know the difference. Do you?'

'I don't think I should answer that question on the grounds that it might incriminate me.' An amused smile lifted the corners of her red lips. She obviously thought she was a riot. 'But I will say that if I ever did use drugs, and keep in mind that I'm not confessing anything, it was a long time ago for religious reasons.'

He had a feeling he was going to be real sorry, but he asked anyway. 'Religious reasons?'

'To seek truth and enlightenment,' she elaborated. 'To break the boundaries of the mind in search of higher knowledge and spiritual fulfillment.'

Yep, he was sorry.

'To explore the cosmic connection between good and evil. life and death.'

'To seek new life, new civilizations. To boldly go where no man has gone before,' he added, keeping his tone bland. 'You and Captain Kirk seem to have a lot in common.'

A frown flattened her smile.

'What's in this trunk?' he asked.

'Christmas lights.'

'When was the last time you checked?'

'Christmas.'

Movement behind Gabrielle drew Joe's attention to the front counter, and he watched Kevin walk to the cash register and pop it open. 'I have a few business errands to run this morning, Gabrielle,' Kevin said as he filled the drawer with money. 'I should be back by three.'

Gabrielle spun around and looked at her business partner. Tension choked the air, but no one besides her seemed to notice. It clogged her throat, but for the first time since she'd been arrested, relief lifted her spirits a little, too. There was an end to this madness in sight. The sooner Kevin left, the sooner the detective could search, and the sooner he would find nothing. The sooner he would leave her store and her life. 'Oh, okay. Take all the time you need. If you get really busy, you don't have to come back at all.'

Kevin shifted his gaze from Gabrielle to the man standing directly behind her. 'I'll be back.'

As soon as Kevin was gone, Gabrielle glanced over her shoulder. 'Do your thing, Detective,' she said, then moved to the front counter and began wrapping the blue plate in tissue paper. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched him pull a small black notebook out of the back pocket of his Levi's. He flipped it open and slowly walked