Serving Up Trouble

they were doing now, no matter how amused he might be.

Nice as that was to see, Sam didn’t care for it being at his own expense, even if he was aware Luke was just trying to get a rise out of him.

If only Luke knew, just thinking about Angie got a rise out of him. “Can we talk the case, do you think, or do you want to joke around all day?”

“Sorry.”

“You don’t look sorry. You look disgustingly…I don’t know. Happy.”

Luke lifted a shoulder. “Maybe I got lucky last night.”

“With Sara?”

“Maybe.”

“About time. You’ve been dating her a month.”

“Some things are worth waiting for.”

Sam eye balled the known womanizer Luke Sorrintino. “That sounds serious.”

Luke shrugged again and turned away.

“Oh, now that we’re talking about you, we’re done?”

“That’s right. Besides, our little problem awaits us- Well, hello.” Luke smiled broadly at someone in the doorway, and even before Sam glanced over and saw his partner’s flirtatious expression, he knew.

Angie.

She stood there with her sweet face smiling right at him, in her second hand glasses that emphasized her huge eyes and a floral, gauzy dress covered in sunflowers that made him wish he had a pair of sun glasses just to look at her.

“You look tense again,” she said to Sam. “Am I interrupting?”

Yes.

“Of course not,” Luke said before Sam could speak. “We were just questioning a witness. I was the good cop. Sam here…” They both turned to stare at him.

“I bet he makes a scary bad cop,” Angie said with a secret little smile.

As if she knew him.

Well, if she did, and she could read his mind right now, she’d know this terrible urge he had to go to her, touch her. She’d probably run screaming from the room.

“You catch far more flies with honey instead of vinegar,” she said, wrinkling her nose delicately as she looked around his office with a sort of morbid curiosity.

“A mess, isn’t it?” Luke tsked, and Sam glared at him.

“I suggested opening the shades and fumigating,” Angie said. “But he wasn’t interested.”

“No, he’s very tense, our Sam.”

Oh, very funny.

“At the very least, he should try aromatherapy,” Angie said told Luke.

“I agree. I mean, just look at him.” Now Luke sidled over toward Angie, so that both of them were looking back at him; his partner with laughter in his eyes, and Angie, with…uh-oh. An un mistakable spurt of…some thing, all right. Some thing that made his insides do a juvenile sort of quiver. Damn it, he thought he’d taken care of that the last time they’d stood in this office together.

No attraction between them. Not now, not ever.

He faced them both. “I don’t need sunshine, fumigating or aromatherapy, thank you.” He took Luke’s arm, showed him the door and closed it behind him.

“Before you say a word,” Angie said. “I just wanted to say, I didn’t come here to discuss the horrid color of your walls or the way you keep your office.”

“But you had to mention it.”

“Well, yes. Since I was here.” She smiled, a totally disarming smile. “That was just a bonus suggestion, you understand, and I’ll try to restrain myself in the future. I’m not here to make a pest of myself.”

Oddly enough, she wasn’t. Because somehow, simply by standing there, his day seemed…brighter.

Not good. “I’m pretty busy.”

Her smile dimmed slightly, and he wondered what exactly it was about her that made him such a jerk. “I wanted to see that picture again,” she said.

“Picture?” All he could think of was the photo of them in the paper, when she’d been snuggled against his chest, when he’d been staring down into her face-

“The suspect drawing.”

“Oh.” Idiot. “It’s here…some where.” He went to his desk and started rifling, nearly growling when she came close and leaned over his desk, too, her sweet-smelling hair brushing his arm.

“Sorry,” she said, tossing it over her shoulder. “I tend to get in people’s spaces. I know you don’t like to be touched.”

Oh, he liked to be touched. Sexually, that is. Which, unfortunately, was suddenly all he could think about at the moment. “Here.” He found the picture before he made a fool of himself and pulled it from the disaster masquerading as his desk. “What did you need it for?”

“I just wanted to add…” She took the paper, set it on the desk, reached for a pencil and-

“Hey, that’s-”

“Yes,” she breathed, straightening, holding up the sheet to inspect her handiwork. “That’s it. Now it’s perfect.”

Sam grabbed the composite drawing and stared at it. She’d added a little goatee.

“Some thing about the rendering has been bothering me.” She peeked over his shoulder, which she had to stand on tiptoe to do. He could imagine her a little closer, just enough that her breasts would press into his back and-

“I couldn’t place it right away,” she said softly, clearly having no idea his thoughts had taken him to the gutter. “Not until I saw him again.”

Sam stepped clear and faced her, not allowing himself to look anywhere but into her dark eyes. “You…saw him again?”

“Not since I called you, no. I’ll let you know if anything else comes to me. Well, I know you’re too busy to stand around talking, so…”

Sam stared at her, but all he saw was her pretty little behind as it sashayed toward his door. “Where are you going?”

“To work,” she said. “I skipped the bank this morning. Still don’t feel comfortable going inside. I’m finally replacing my lost ATM card.”

She made his head spin. “Angie-”

But she was gone.

Two days later, Sam and Luke were still checking on every “John” registered at P.C.C. when Sam’s cell phone rang.

“Sorry to bother you,” Angie said in his ear. “But Mr. Suspect just walked down the alley between the cafe and the book store. And you know, I keep for get ting to ask you. What’s his name? What’s he wanted for?”

“We don’t know his name and he’s part of an identity-theft ring-wait.” He shook his head to clear the strange pleasure that had come over him at hearing her musical voice. No matter how much he ignored her, she’d been in the back of his mind. Hell, okay, the front of his mind. “You saw him?”

“That’s why I’m calling, Sam.”

Lord, she was going to give him gray hair before he hit thirty-five. “Angie.”

“Yes?”

“Stay right where you are.” He pulled a U-turn to head back across town. “Don’t even think about going after him yourself.”

She didn’t say anything, and a bad, bad feeling overcame the good one he’d had at the sound of her. “I mean it, Angie. If you-”

“I hear you perfectly well, Sam,” she said in a rather subdued voice. “And believe it or not, I even understand the English language, so there’s no need to repeat yourself. I won’t go after him myself, that would be stupid.”