what Josie Stratton had endured—suffered. The more he saw, the angrier he became at what she went through. The damp and cold of the basement. The chafing of the chains. The fear . . . God. What that monster did to her. He was antsy to get to her house. See her with his own eyes, know she was okay.
He didn’t let himself analyze it more than that.
Keep Josie Stratton safe.
It was exactly what he intended to do.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Josie peeked out her window, watching as Officers Horton and Vogel talked in low tones to Detective Copeland, who was holding what looked like a large pizza box in one hand. Her heart gave a small leap at the sight of the tall, handsome detective, while her stomach growled hungrily. She chose to ignore the former and acknowledge the latter. She hadn’t eaten anything for dinner yet. She’d felt awkward in the presence of Horton and Vogel, despite that they seemed to be nice men, so she’d gone upstairs to get some privacy. She’d tried to work a little bit, but her mind had insisted on wandering, and she kept yawning. She’d finally lain down for a little while. She was exhausted after not sleeping well the night before, waking up early, and then dealing with the unsettling and chaotic emotions that had clobbered her after discovering the posted articles and experiencing the dismal garage sale. That people had come to gawk at me, she thought with an internal grimace. Now . . .
Josie watched as Detective Copeland said some parting words to Horton and Vogel and then they got in their police cruiser and backed out of her driveway as he stood in front of her porch watching them leave. Balancing the pizza in one hand, he disappeared up her front steps and she heard her front door open and then close softly below her.
Josie disengaged the locks on her bedroom door, walking down the hall to the bathroom where she took a quick shower, piling her hair on top of her head in a messy bun. When she emerged, she felt more awake, cleansed from the physical work of earlier that day. She returned to her room and pulled on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt and headed downstairs, the smell of pepperoni drawing her.
She walked into the kitchen where Detective Copeland stood half turned away from her, looking at the pots and pans on the floor, various levels of water in each. A drop of water pinged into one and he looked up, squinting at the stain on the ceiling.
“Hey,” she said and he turned quickly, his expression morphing into a smile.
“Hey. Little leak, huh?”
“It was little. Now it’s . . . bigger.” When it’d first appeared, she’d only had to put out one pot to catch the drips, but now six were necessary. Pretty soon she’d be able to use her kitchen as a shower. She took a few steps into the room, checking the water levels in each.
“I have a buddy who does roof repairs. He could probably come out in the next few days and take a look. I’d be happy to call him. It’s probably not the greatest time to have strangers in your home.”
Josie looked away. “Oh, well, this isn’t exactly at the top of my list right now anyway.” She cleared her throat, heat rising in her cheeks. She really didn’t want to talk about her pitiful financial situation with this man who probably already thought she was pathetic in practically every way. “Is that pizza I smell?”
When she looked up at him, she saw he was studying her closely, a knowing look in his eyes, but he quickly schooled his expression and looked to where he’d set the pizza box on the table. “I hope you like pepperoni.”
“Who doesn’t, Detective?”
He laughed, his white teeth flashing, and her stomach gave a little twist. God, he really was distractingly handsome, and as she stood there watching him remove two plates from her cabinet and begin dishing up pizza slices, a tiny sensation of . . . amazement sparkled through her. In a way, her reaction to the detective was a revelation. She could still respond physically to a man. Whether she’d ever want to take a next step was beside the point. She wasn’t broken beyond repair. At least she didn’t think so, not after this.
She would not fall into old bad habits—seeking the attention of men in order to validate herself, looking