"Shadow of Doubt"

“Shadow of Doubt”:

Chapter One:
“Why Vanessa is pulled over for speeding?”

Vanessa Courtney Riley speed around the sharp corner of the road as she and another female passenger rode upon her Harley motorcycle. Instead of losing control like a novice motorcycle rider, Vanessa successfully negotiated the hair pin turn at neck breaking speed as her bike zoomed down the fast lane of the four lane highway. Her passenger sucked in a sharp breath. The woman clutched at the lapels of Vanessa's form fitting black, leather jacket.

"Cori, link your arms around my waist or grab hold of the grip behind the seat of my bike." Vanessa shouted back at her sister, Cori Madison Riley.

Cori was her reluctant passenger and Vanessa knew why. She had a strong feeling that her sister doubted her abilities to drive a motorcycle because of her physical disability. Vanessa wore a full leg brace on her left leg and a knee brace on her right knee and calf. The right brace was hidden inside her specially designed right boot. She had come a long way since her crippling accident, a horrible car accident that Vanessa survived about six years ago. The doctors told her that she'd never walk again, but she proved the doctors wrong.

"Slow down, Vanessa, you need to lower your speed before we crash." Cori spoke loudly so her older sister could hear her over the roar of the loud motorcycle. "Remember your legs, slow down before we crash, wreck, or get stopped by the local sheriff’s department."

"Don't worry, sis, I'm wearing both braces on my legs. I can successfully do anything a normal woman can when I wear both leg braces." Vanessa released the left handle bar of her Harley so she could touch the leg brace beneath her jean leg. She quickly placed her glove-covered hand back on the left handlebar grip.  “I promise you I won’t wreck. And I can talk my way out of a ticket if I’m stopped by the local sheriff’s department. We are related to several of the deputies who work for the local sheriff’s department.”

“I wouldn’t count on those family members not giving you or me a hefty speeding ticket, Vanessa.”

"Take a deep breath, relax, my dear." Once again Vanessa shouted over the roar of her motorcycle and the howl of the wind. A brisk wind whipped against Vanessa and her sister,

Cori, as they rode swiftly down the road on a Harley motorcycle. "I promise I'll get you to your job in one piece and on time. If I do get a ticket then I will pay the fine."

Cori strained to hear her sister through the helmet she wore. "I swear this will be the last time I ask you to drive me to work. You're insane driving your Harley too fast and not wearing a helmet, Vanessa Courtney Riley."

"I told you before we left I couldn't find my other helmet, but you wouldn't let me search for my other helmet. So what if you’re running a few minutes late. Your boss should be grateful you agreed to work today since it's your day off. Cori, my dear, remember both you and your friend agreed to work for me later tonight."

"Oh, that's right, you're catering Cousin Stephanie’s party, tonight. She is having a welcoming party for her adoptive brother. Isn't Stephanie’s adoptive brother a police detective from St. Augustine, Florida?"

"Yes, I believe he is, that's why Sheriff Nicole McShane hired him, my contact at the Newcastle Sheriff's Department told me that Miles will take over the cold case division." Vanessa stopped talking so she could concentrate upon driving her motorcycle down the highway with a passenger aboard. She not only had to compensate for her sister. She had to deal with her disabled legs and balancing her powerful motorcycle.

"Cori, Sheriff McShane said she was going to assign Miles to our sister's murder case." Vanessa maneuvered her Harley into the faster left lane so she could drive around a slower moving blue Honda Accent in the right lane.

"Good, maybe he can solve our sister's murder. I can't believe Christine has been dead for almost two years." Cori knew Vanessa was still upset, but she didn't wear her feelings on her sleeve. Her sister hid her emotions behind an icy, unemotional facade.

Vanessa always internalized her emotions, but every once and a while she would allow her emotions to take over and experience an emotional breakdown. The last time Vanessa lost control was the night that she discovered her best friend, Reese McWilliams and her sister, Christine murdered. Both Reese and Christine were discovered on Vanessa's eight hundred acre ranch, The Circle R.

"Maybe one of these days the authorities will find our sister's killer," Cori sighed as she continued, "you're an ex-FBI Agent, Vanessa, maybe you can investigate her murder."

"Cori, I'm going to make sure that Sheriff McShane’s new deputy doesn't quit until he finds out who murdered both Christine and Reese. I promise you our sister's murder will be solved if I have anything to do with it." Vanessa passionately promised. She quickly closed her eyes for a brief second so she could regain control of her emotions. Several wisps of her long red hair flew into her eyes as her bike zoomed down the highway.

"I know, Vanessa, that sooner or later our sister's murder will be solved. About Hayden and me serving at Stephanie’s party, we'll be there if our shift ends on time at six p.m. But as you know my work as a paramedic helicopter pilot isn't a job that’s nine to five." Cori panicked when she felt the motorcycle wheel beneath her hit a rut in the road. Her sister drove like a maniac. "Vanessa, slow the fuck down before we crash. I don't want you or me to be the first rescue of my shift."

Vanessa ignored her little sister and revved the engine of her Harley. Cori knew darned well not to use the f word around her. She drove so fast on her motorcycle that all she could make out ahead was the yellow line in the middle of the road. Her thoughts drifted toward her family. She had five sisters including herself. Vanessa, her deceased sister, Christine, and Ryan were fraternal triplet sisters. And Cori and Lucy, born eight years later, were fraternal twin sisters.

Approximately ten minutes later Vanessa guided her motorcycle down the road that led to Newcastle Medical-Flight and Rescue. "Where do you need me to drop you off at?" Vanessa questioned her little sister.

"Don't drop me off at the hanger, but at the helicopter landing pad." Cori screamed over the roar the Harley.

In no time they reached the helicopter landing pad. Vanessa slowed her bike down and pulled up to a grassy area a couple hundred yards away from a massive rescue helicopter. She looked toward the helicopter and waved back at Cori's coworker and paramedic partner, Hayden McKnight.

Vanessa watched as Hayden jumped out of the cockpit of the massive looking helicopter. Hayden had short blonde hair with brown green eyes.

"Tell my little sister that I don't drive my Harley too fast." Vanessa called out to Hayden.

"You made it in one piece, Cori." Hayden called out. She directed her next comment to Cori's older sister. "Vanessa, your sister thinks you drive that Harley of yours too fast. Don't worry about your sister's bitching, Cori also thinks I drive like a nut."

"Hayden, I know how my little sister feels. Cori also thinks I drive my dirt bikes and my jeep to fast." Vanessa switched off her Harley. She balanced her motorcycle with her left leg so Cori could climb off from behind. Her little sister's jean leg got caught on the passenger's footrest. She accidentally chuckled aloud at her sister's clumsiness.

Cori swore under her breath as she stumbled forward and fell face first against the small grass way. The grassy area was a few hundred feet from the helicopter landing pad. She rose and marched over toward Vanessa's motorcycle to get into her sister's face. She angrily jerked the motorcycle helmet off her head. Reaching behind her head, she made sure her pony tail was secure, before she directed her fury at her older sister.

"Here's your damned helmet, put it on before you drive off, Vanessa. “ Cori shoved the motorcycle helmet into Vanessa's glove covered left hand.

Vanessa snatched the helmet out of Cori’s grasp. She quickly replaced the humor in her eyes with a look devoid of any emotion. She successfully hid her volatile, passionate emotions behind her icy facade. Ever since her mother died when she was twelve, Vanessa had learned to internalize her feelings. Now at the age of thirty-eight she was a master of keeping all her feeling to herself. Her steely, grey eyes with flecks of green settled upon her little sister. She flashed Cori an icy, intimidating glare, a look that had many people quaking in their boots.

"Vanessa Riley, don't try to intimidate me with one of your icy looks." It aggravated Cori that her sister showed no emotional response. She knew damned well that Vanessa's icy, stoic expression hid her true feelings. "I know damned well that beneath your ice bitch act you have a nasty temper just like me." Her silver blue eyes flashed with fury.

"Unlike you, little sister, I refuse to allow my temper to rule my emotions or my actions. FYI, my icy demeanor made me a very effective Assistant Federal Prosecutor and an equally effective FBI Agent. They used to call me; The Terminator, because I made many suspects break during interrogation. During my legal ordeal, I never lost my cool."

"A legal ordeal." Cori shirked, as she continued, "the State of North Carolina accused you of conspiracy to commit murder."

"I was acquitted of that crime, sis, and end of discussion. I'm now a chef with a great business and a successful cooking show on local cable." Vanessa's tone was matter-of-fact to hide her frustration and anger.

"The legal system may have acquitted you, but the court of public opinion found you guilty. You and I both know the charges against you almost ten years ago were total bull shit." Cori knew Vanessa wasn't capable of murder.

"You're my sister, and you have to believe I'm capable of doing no wrong. Anyone can be capable of murder, even you, Cori." Vanessa didn't like the direction her conversation had taken with her little sister. "Come on, Cori, go ahead and ask me the question."

"Okay, Vanessa, I'll ask you this question once and for all. Did you hire a hit woman to kill the man who murdered your husband, Brad Grey?" Cori swallowed hard when her sister's look became even icier.

Vanessa stared directly at her angry little sister. "My dear, Cori, I was acquitted by a jury of my peers."

"Tell me the truth; don't give me an ex-lawyers response. Did you hire a hit woman to kill the creep who murdered your husband ten years ago?"

"Stop it, Cori, end of subject; I refuse to answer any more questions about my past. Now, about my driving, how I drive is a little fast. You're the one to criticize me, little sister; you're a helicopter pilot and paramedic." Vanessa waved the helmet in her hand at the helicopter parked just a few hundred feet away. The chopper was parked on its helicopter pad like a looming bird.

"Call my cell if you need me to pick you up after your shift, Cori, my dear."

"I won't call you to pick me up after my shift is over, I’ll have Hayden drive me back to our ranch after our shift. I know damn well you have a party to cater for our cousin, tonight. I'll call you later and tell you if Hayden and I can show up and help you serve at Stephanie’s party." Cori smiled at her older sister. Her silver blue eyes sparkled with love. "We made it a little late but in one piece, Miss easy rider."

"Hey, sis, I'm an expert motorcycle rider. I've ridden motorcycles since I was eleven. Cori, tell Hayden that she's invited to our ranch house for our Friday night family dinner this week. Ask Hayden to please come."

"I can't speak for Hayden, but I'll be there for our weekly family dinner. What's on the menu, Van?" Cori was glad that her mysterious and stoic older sister could cook. Vanessa was a damned talented chef. Her skills as a cook were in demand by many Newcastle residences.

Vanessa winked at her little sister  "I haven't decided the menu yet, my dear. Whatever I make I promise you'll love what I cook. “.

"You're cocky about your skills as a cook, Chef Vanessa Courtney Riley." Cori teased, as she continued, "You better hit the road before you're late to work too."

"Cori, I can be late, I'm the boss. I can't fire myself."

“Vanessa, you’re a smart ass.” Cori teased.

“It takes one to know one, Cori Riley.” Vanessa shot back. She choked in shock when her little sister gave her the finger and yelled an expletive at her.

“You need your mouth washed out with soap and your ass kicked. Or maybe I stick one of my crutches up your butt.”

“Bring it on, honey; I’m not scared of you. But this time I’m not going to fall for you crippled woman act.”

Vanessa pretended to be offended by her little sister’s comment about her playing the crippled woman. She may be handicapped, but she could kick anyone’s ass, even her sister’s. She watched in awe as her younger sister turned away and ran toward the helicopter. A few minutes later Cori climbed into the cockpit of the helicopter. Her little sister was an excellent pilot and paramedic. Cori learned her piloting skills during her six-year tour with the Air Force.

Vanessa didn't have time to watch Cori and her friend take off in the massive rescue helicopter. She needed to take off ASAP because she was late herself. She refused to show up late again. She was working for a family member, her cousin, Stephanie. Vanessa doubted Stephanie would fire her, but she had a business to run and a reputation to maintain. Vanessa and her best friend Chandlar were partners in a personal chef business. They were personal chefs' and caterers. Their clients were most of the deputies and citizens in Newcastle. Their personal chef business was geared toward the hard-working man or woman with little time to cook for themselves or their families.

Vanessa reached up with her left glove-covered hand to turn the key of her motorcycle to start. She hit the automatic start located on the left side of her bike's handlebars. Seconds later the powerful motor of her Harley roared to life. She twisted the left grip of her handlebar and caused the engine to rev and purr even more. Balancing the bike with her left leg, she reached up to place her motorcycle helmet over her long red hair. She reached up to stuff her windblown, long red hair up into the helmet. She adjusted the helmet over her head and lowered the eye shield. The helmet hid her identity and protected her head from the elements. Hopefully the helmet would save her if she were involved in a motorcycle wreck. Revving the motor of her bike once again, she peeled away. Her tires spun against the pavement as she zoomed away. Rock and debris kicked up behind her motorcycle as the back tire of the bike burned an impression in the paved road.

Memories of her tumultuous past bombarded Vanessa, much like a reoccurring nightmare, as she increased the speed of her Harley motorcycle. Over the past thirty-seven years she's dealt with one bad disaster after another. If bad luck were a horrible disease then she'd be terminal. Bad luck followed her around like a relentless stalker. She occasionally had periods of great luck, but they were few and far between. At the young age of fifteen she graduated high school. She was a very smart and gifted. Vanessa possessed a photographic memory and had an IQ in the genius level. She graduated from college with a triple major: Bio-Chemistry, Forensic Science / Criminal Justice, and Political Science. She graduated from Yale Law School before she turned twenty. She passed the law bar her first time with a perfect score. At the age of twenty-two, almost twenty-three, Vanessa became the youngest person to be hired as an Assistant Federal Prosecutor. She worked as a very successful Assistant Federal Prosecutor for five years. Her career ended rather abruptly, at the age of twenty-nine, when she was accused of a crime. The crime she was accused of; conspiracy to commit murder. The DA's Office in Raleigh, North Carolina accused Vanessa of hiring a hit woman to avenge her husband, Brad Grey's, death. Her apparent motive was revenge. The State of North Carolina verses Vanessa Courtney Riley wasn't only waged in a state court in Raleigh North Carolina, but in the court of public opinion. She spent a year in jail waiting for her trial. Her trial lasted three months. She was acquitted by the jury of twelve after four hours of deliberation. The state of North Carolina had a very weak, circumstantial case. The state accused Vanessa of paying a hit woman to kill Adam Knight. Mister Knight was the man who allegedly killed Vanessa’s husband. To the shock of the DA, in a separate trial, the hit woman Vanessa allegedly hired was also acquitted of the crime. The hit woman was known as the Jackal or a.k.a. Chandlar McCaffery.

After her ordeal with the judicial system, Vanessa quit her job as a Federal Assistant District Attorney. A few months later an agent for the Federal Bureau of Investigation approached Vanessa with a job offer. She was hired as an agent. She worked as an FBI agent for almost three years. But her job as an FBI agent ended when a suspect rammed their vehicle into Vanessa and her FBI partner's car during a high speed chase. Both Vanessa and her partner were critically wounded. Her FBI partner, Kelli MacKelley, lost her right leg when the suspect's car amputated her right leg below the knee. The horrible wreck broke Vanessa's back, crushed her left leg, dislocated her right shoulder, collapsed her left lung, and caused dangerous internal bleeding. The doctor's gave her very little hope that she'd ever walk again. Two years later she did walk again with the aid of crutches and a full left leg brace. Then tragedy struck her again a year later when she was rushed to the ER when her good leg started hurting her. Vanessa was sent home with no treatment. Both the doctors and nurses at Newcastle General Hospital thought that she exaggerated her pain to get drugs. She did hurt, so when she was rushed back to the hospital a few days later the vascular surgeon verified that she had a massive blood clot in the calf of her right leg. The blood clot had raptured and resulted in muscle death. The surgeon was forced to remove her right calf muscle. Vanessa rehabilitated a few months later with a brace from the knee down on her right leg. Due to her debilitating wreck and muscle death, Vanessa functioned on a daily basis with a full leg brace of her left leg, a partial brace on her right leg, and two crutches to aid in her walking or standing. Over the past six months she could walk and stand with only the use of her right crutch, but out of habit she used her left crutch too.  If it hadn’t been for her triplet sister, Christine, Vanessa would still be crippled in a wheel chair.

Chandlar McCaffery was now her business partner in the personal chef business she now owned. Chandlar was the alleged hit woman for whom the State of North Carolina accused Vanessa of hiring to avenge her murdered husband’s death. To the horror of Vanessa's friends and family, Chandlar entered Vanessa's life almost two years ago because Chandlar's twin sister, Reese was murdered. It was Vanessa who found her triplet, Christine, and Chandlar's twin sister, Reese, murdered on her ranch property. Both women were found dead by Vanessa and Sheriff Nichole McShane. Christine and Reese both had been stabbed and bludgeoned to death. To this day the crimes were unsolved. But Christine and Reece’s double homicide would soon be solved. Vanessa vowed long ago to find out who murdered her triplet sister and best friend.

Vanessa came out of her painful memories and realized that she was speeding down the road on her motorcycle. She didn’t decrease her speed because she needed to meet Chandlar in town for breakfast at a local café. During their breakfast meeting they were going to plan a menu, shop for the food, then drive to her cousin's ranch and prepare the food for the party tonight, a welcome home party they were hired to cater. The welcome home party was for her cousin, Stephanie’s, adoptive brother, Vanessa for one never met Stephanie's adoptive brother. Though Vanessa now wondered what her cousin's adoptive brother looked like. She knew for a fact that his name was Miles. Other than the man's first name Vanessa personally wouldn't know the man if he ran into her off the street. She wondered what Miles looked like. Miles was moving to Newcastle from the big city of St. Augustine Florida. All Vanessa knew about Miles was the fact he was a police officer for the St. Augustine Police Department, and that Newcastle Sheriff, Nicole McShane, hired Miles as a deputy for Newcastle, North Carolina County Sheriffs Department. Sheriff McShane was her dead triplet sister, Christine's, best friend and sister-in-law. Christine was married to Randal McShane and Nicole had married Randal's little brother, Cord. Now, both Randal and Nicole were widowers. Cord died a little more than three years ago in a horrible car accident.

Vanessa unintentionally increased the speed of her motorcycle as thoughts of her triplet's murder possessed her once again. Christine was murdered almost two years ago. Hell, she'd give anything to find Christine's murderer.

Vanessa didn't realize how fast her motorcycle traveled down the roadway until she zoomed past a speed trap on her Harley. Before she had a chance to slow down, a police vehicle pulled out from behind a road sign with its lights and siren blaring. Oh hell, she was about to be busted for the umpteenth time for speeding, but she hoped the sheriff’s deputy pulling her over knew her personally and would let her off with another stern warning. Hell, maybe the deputy wasn’t after her.

Vanessa glanced into her left hand rearview mirror. She realized to her chagrin that the deputy in the police cruiser wanted her to pull over her motorcycle over to the shoulder of the highway.

"Dang it, Riley, you're driving too fast and now you are about to be pulled over by a Newcastle Sheriff’s Deputy. And the way my luck’s been going today, I’ll probably be given a hefty speeding ticket." Vanessa silently scolded herself. She signaled to the officer in the police vehicle that she'd pulled over to the shoulder of the road. Vanessa prayed that the Newcastle Sheriff's Deputy behind the wheel was either Sheriff McShane, her cousin, Lieutenant Stephany Harris or Sergeant Kelly McAdams. Sheriff McShane owed her a favor because Vanessa had helped one of the woman's deputies out of a sticky situation when some punk tried to rob a local grocery store.

Vanessa was suddenly transformed to the grocery store. The punk waved around his gun and demanded that everyone freeze. She unexpectedly approached the jerk with a gun. Without a sound of warning she drop kicked the man to the linoleum floor with her left crutch. Her action dislodged the punk's weapon. Vanessa placed her left crutch up against the punk's chest. She leveled a look at the man devoid of emotion, yet a look that cautioned him not to mess with me.

"I suggest you don't dick with me or I'll knock your ass into next week." Vanessa warned. "Your going to go peacefully with Deputy Carey or I'll hurt you, then everyone in town will make fun of you because you allowed a crippled woman to get the drop on you." She winked down at the punk with a shocked look on his face. "Do we have an understanding?"

"Yes, ma'am, just don't hit me again with your left crutch." The punk whispered so only she could hear.

Vanessa came out of her thoughts to remember that she was being stopped for speeding by one of Newcastle's finest. With her luck she had a feeling the deputy pulling her over for speeding wasn't Sheriff Nicole McShane, her cousin, or her cousin’s partner, Sergeant Kelly McAdams. She looked into the rearview mirror perched on her left handle bar,  and caught quick glimpse of the deputy in the Newcastle Sheriff's Department SUV. By accident she revved the engine of her motorcycle, and since she was pulled over to the shoulder of the road with her bike engine idling, the tires spun against the gravel on the shoulder of the road. A few chunks of gravel flew harmlessly into the bumper and front grill of the Newcastle Sheriff's Department SUV.

Vanessa quickly reached above the gas tank of her Harley to twist the key toward the off position and kill the engine of her motorcycle. Despite the fact she wore a brace on her left leg, and she was partially lame in that leg, she managed to balance the weight of her motorcycle with her left leg. She adjusted the heel of her right boot against the foot rest. It occurred to her that her right leg was hurting. The pain in her right leg was so intense; she knew she’d have to take a Vicodin pain killer.  Her right leg constantly ached and it was utterly useless without aid of a crutch or a lower leg brace.

She shot another glance into her left hand rearview motorcycle mirror. To Vanessa's complete surprise the deputy in the SUV wasn't a woman, but a man. A pair of dark mirrored sunglasses covered his eyes and a cowboy hat was pulled low over his face. The dark sunglasses and cowboy hat hid most of his face. The deputy had a square jaw and an air of arrogance in his demeanor. The unshaven, unkempt look that the deputy sported gave the man an air of sexiness. The deputies jet black hair curled way past the collar of his crisp white Henley tee shirt with Newcastle Deputy Logo. The logo clung to his slim yet muscular chests. The deputy was hot and no doubt trouble with a capital T. Since she was thirty-eight and a highly intelligent woman, Vanessa tried to avoid trouble and hot, sexy men like the proverbial plague. Besides what kind of man wanted a crippled woman with a questionable past. Despite the fact she was extremely attractive, slim, and muscular; most men avoided her as if she were cursed.

Vanessa watched as the cocky deputy climbed out of the Newcastle Sheriff's Deputy SUV. Her attention shifted to the deputy’s shiny black boots as they crunched against the rocks and gravel on the roadway. A pair of tight black jeans clung to his lanky hips like a second skin.

The deputy slowly and deliberately approached Vanessa as she sat and waited patiently on her bike. If the deputy hoped his deliberate strides would intimidate her or make her act emotional, then he was dead wrong. Vanessa was cool as a block of ice. She reached up to pull off her motorcycle helmet. She slipped the helmet off her head and her long red, windblown hair spilled out behind her back like a red cloud with wisps of blonde sparkled throughout.

Lieutenant Bryce Miles Blake swallowed hard as he approached the motorcycle and its rider. He was taken aback that the rider on the classic Harley was a hot, sexy woman. And the hot woman had soft, silky, long red hair.

Bryce halted beside the redhead and her motorcycle. "Ma'am, I need to see your license and proof of insurance." He made his tone deep and business like. For some strange reason he was unnerved by the woman on the Harley motorcycle. He nervously reached up to adjust his sunglasses. Bryce wondered why the redhead seemed so familiar to him.

Vanessa turned her head to examine the deputy standing beside her motorcycle. Her silver grey eyes with flecks of green settled on the deputy's mirrored sunglasses. Vanessa wished that the cowboy hat or the dark sunglasses didn't cover most of his face. She wondered what color eyes the man had behind the sunglasses. She was the only thing reflected back in the deputy’s sunglasses and she looked like a mess. Her red hair was windblown and flared wildly behind her back. Her unique colored eyes were devoid of emotion. As a child she'd learned to hide her emotions behind an icy wall. She usually did an excellent job of hiding her feelings and emotions. She internalized her feelings of anger, sadness and happiness. Vanessa was master of her emotions and usually no man or woman could break through her icy facade. There were few people who could crack Vanessa, her sister's, her step daughter; Alexandra, and her dead husband. Her dead husband, Brad Grey was the only man to see the really passionate woman behind her icy wall. She knew that her icy looks and her cool demeanor intimidated most men.

"You don't intimidate me, lady." Bryce began hoping the redhead didn't hear the catch in his voice. Her icy demeanor didn't deter him for one second. He knew that behind her icy stare and cool bitch façade there definitely lurked a very passionate and hot headed woman. "Honey, do you know how fast you were going?"

"No shit, officer bozo, I was speeding." Vanessa wanted to say to the deputy so badly that her teeth literally ached, but she held back her tongue and her anger. She refused to allow the jerk to see her anger directed at him. "Yes, sir, I was speeding." She kept the tone in her voice very calm and controlled, as she continued, “I admit it, deputy, and I broke the law and sped. Just give me a hefty speeding ticket and I'll pay the fine. Make it fast. I'm late for work, deputy."  For some reason her southern drawl was pronounced.

Bryce knew damn well that the sexy, redhead was hiding her emotions behind an icy facade. He had to admit to himself that she was the best looking woman that he ever laid eyes upon. The color of her eyes made her devastatingly attractive. Her eyes were sort of a mesmerizing silver grey color with flecks of green.

Vanessa felt uncomfortable when the deputy's eyes covered by mirrored sunglasses settled upon her lips. Without a word of warning he removed his mirrored sunglasses to look deeply into her eyes. For a brief second their gazes locked, it was as if time froze longer than a brief moment for both of them. She felt her temperature rise when the man examined her with his dark brown eyes almost black in color. She attempted to swallow back the lump in her throat; sweat broke out across her brow as her heart began to pound violently inside her chest. Sexual arousal reared its unexpected and very unwanted presence inside of Vanessa’s body.

Bryce averted his gaze away from the redhead's mesmerizing silver-grey-green colored eyes. His dark brown eyes narrowed upon the hot redhead's motorcycle. The motorcycle was a 1987 classic Harley. The bike's gas tank, front and back fenders, and handle bar covers were a pale yellow. There were red painted flames on the yellow colored gas tank. The seat was made of soft black leather and built for two. The tires looked new. The spokes of the front and back tires were polished chrome. The hubs had fancy spinners than made the tires appear moving even when the motorcycle was at a stand still. The Harley was a restored classic and the bike complemented the hot, redhead who rode the powerful machine.

"Deputy, you can admire my Harley at another time." Vanessa once again locked gazes with the disturbing man. "Give me my ticket so I can ride off. I'm already fifteen minutes late meeting my business partner. We’re chefs catering a huge party here in town tonight?" She added as an afterthought, as she continued, "Please, write me a ticket and stop wasting time, deputy."

The sexy, redhead was definitely familiar to Bryce and he didn't know why. "I'm not a mere deputy; my name is Lieutenant Bryce Blake. In time you will get a hefty speeding ticket, but first let me see your driver’s license and insurance verification."

Vanessa reached in the left pocket of her leather jacket. She pulled out an insurance verification card and her driver’s license. She handed Lieutenant Bryce Blake her proof of insurance and drivers license.

Bryce examined the somewhat flattering photograph of the redhead on the driver’s license. His eyes focused upon her name, Vanessa Courtney Riley. He glanced away from her driver’s license to look into the redhead's silver grey eyes with flecks of green. It dawned upon him that he'd seen her somewhere, but where? "Why do you seem very familiar to me, Vanessa Riley?"

"I don't know, Lieutenant Blake." It dawned upon her that the man knew her from her local TV cooking show on cable. Or maybe he knew her because of her fifteen minutes of fame ten years ago when the State of North Carolina unsuccessfully prosecuted her for conspiracy to commit murder. "My name is Vanessa C Riley. Maybe you have seen me on TV. I'm the host of “Request a Chef”; the instructional TV show is on the Food & Drink Network on local cable channel 315. I'm also a personal chef and caterer here in Newcastle."

"Well, Chef V.C. Riley, it's good to meet you. Honey, your little show on TV, the fact you can really cook, local fame or incredibly good looks won't help you worm your way out of a speeding ticket, at least not with me." Bryce wasn't about to tell the hot, sexy redhead that he and many red blooded men didn't really watch her show to learn to cook, but to fantasize about cooking in a different way with the beautiful redhead. "What does your husband or boyfriend feel about men fantasizing over you on the TV, Chef Riley."

"I'm not married and I don't have a boyfriend." It took all Vanessa's reserves not to go off on the jerk. "Give me the ticket, Lieutenant Bryce Blake."

Bryce walked to the front of Chef Riley's Harley. He realized for a brief moment, just a split second that her icy look disappeared only to be replaced with fury. "Chef Riley, you're fighting the urge to verbally assault me. You can cuss me out, I won't hold it against you, honey."

"Yes sir, Lieutenant ass hole," Vanessa began allowing herself to use foul language, as she continued, "give me the freaking ticket, Lieutenant ass hole. You're wasting my time, deputy bozo." She coldly smiled at the rude, cocky man. It's a shame the man had sexy dark brown eyes. "I hope your happy, Lieutenant Blake, almost I lost my cool. And I used un-lady like, slang language because of you, Lieutenant Bozo. “

"You’re a smart ass, Chef Riley. Maybe I should jerk you-" Bryce stopped himself when she smiled back at him. For some bizarre reason he wanted to both throttle and kiss Chef Vanessa Riley.

"Don't stop, finish your threat, please don’t hold back, give it to me." Vanessa crossed her arms over her chest. "What do you want to do to me? Hit me. Arrest me. Or cuss me out, too. Call me a bitch again, I deserve it, I earned that label honestly." She answered for him. Vanessa had a disturbing feeling that he wanted to kiss her, not cuss her out.

Brice wanted to give it to her in more ways than one. “Yes, I want to give it to you by jerking you into my arms and kiss you.” Bryce longed to say, but didn't. "Never mind, Chef Riley, I'm not going there with you right now. Instead of giving you what you richly deserve, I’m going to write you that speeding ticket instead."

Bryce quickly wrote her a two hundred dollar ticket. He ripped the ticket off his ticket book and handed it to the sexy redhead. “Chef Riley, if you don’t pay that ticket within 30 days or go to court to fight the ticket on the date on the back, a warrant will be issued for your arrest. But you’ve been arrested before, I’m sure you remember how the court of public opinion convicted you of a crime you were acquitted of by a jury of your peers. My question to you is simple, were you guilty of the crime of conspiracy to commit murder or innocent?”

”Screw you, Lieutenant Bozo.” She answered in a frosty tone. Vanessa wanted to snatch the ticket out of the jerk's hand and advise him where he could shove the ticket; instead she carefully took the speeding ticket out of his glove covered hand. She folded the ticket and placed it in the left pocket of her fitted, black leather jacket.

Bryce looked down and took notice of how the sexy, black leather jacket clung to her ample breasts. Her breasts were large for her thin build. The image of Chef Riley arching back her head as he jerked open her blouse so he could kiss one of her rigid, throbbing nipples possessed him. Without warning lust reared its ugly head for Bryce. He cursed himself when the lower part of his body sprung to immediate attention.

Vanessa sensed Lieutenant Blake's physical arousal. Instead of ignoring the man's arousal, she decided to taunt him. "It's hard, Lieutenant Blake, not having a woman fawn all over you. I'm not most women, I'm immune to a man in uniform that wears a badge and carries a large gun strapped to his hip. The large gun is to compensate for your shortcomings and colossal arrogance.”

“You redheaded bitch, how dare you judge me when you don’t really know me! “ Bryce shot back in his defense.

“I may be a bitch, but you know damned well that I got your number, Lieutenant Bryce Blake. I bet you’re not married or have a girlfriend. You either like younger woman who don't know any better or much older women who are desperate. I assure you, my dear Lieutenant, I'm neither young and stupid or old and desperate."

Bryce paled when the very observant yet sexy redhead assessed him. Had Bryce finally met the woman who'd bring him down a notch or two? He longed to physically throttle sexy Chef Riley; instead he placed his mirrored sunglasses over his eyes to hide the desire in his dark brown eyes. A few minutes later Bryce stepped away from Chef Riley’s  bike before he said another word he'd regret, as he continued, "I have a word of advice for you, Chef Vanessa Riley, I strongly suggest you drive away from me on your Harley before I do something I'll regret later on."

"I dare you to do something you'll regret. Come on, Lieutenant Bryce Blake, I can take you on both mentally and physically. I used to be an FBI agent before I became a chef. And before that I was a federal prosecutor for five years."

"You don't intimidate or impress me, my dear Chef Riley. I'll play this is your life with you, Vanessa. You're an ex- Federal Assistant DA, ex-FBI Agent, and let's not forget, Chef Riley,  you were acquitted of conspiracy to commit murderer. Did you get away with a crime? Or were you truly innocent of the crime you were accused of doing? Was the court of public opinion correct? Did you hire a hit woman to kill the bastard who murdered your husband?” Bryce intentionally asked in an attempted to get another emotional response out of the cool redhead, but instead of an equally nasty response to his questions, she managed a smiled devoid of any emotion.

"Nice try, Lieutenant, I won't be baited into losing my temper or giving you a much deserved ass kicking. And you have such a great ass." Vanessa winked and smiled even wider with an evil, cocky grin. "Too bad it's attached to your leg which is now inserted directly into your mouth. I was acquitted of that crime because the authorities had no proof, just conjecture about my alleged guilt. A jury of twelve men and women acquitted me and ruled that I didn't hire a hit woman to kill the scum bag who murdered my husband, Brad Grey. Good day to you, Lieutenant Bryce Blake, I hope to never lay eyes upon you again. In the future if you see me, go the other way or you'll be very sorry."

"Is that a threat, sweetheart?" Bryce felt a tick work in his brow. He was so pissed at the redhead that he couldn't think straight. He was also physically aroused by Chef Vanessa Riley. He'd never experienced sexual arousal at first glance until he looked into the sexy redhead's oddly colored eyes.

"It's not a threat but a promise, my dear Lieutenant." With her right glove covered fingers Vanessa tightly clutched her motorcycle helmet. She held the helmet in her hand. "My best friend, Chandlar McCaffery was that alleged hit woman. I was on my way to help her with a job."

"A job?" Bryce suspiciously asked.

"Chandler and I are caterers and personal chefs." Vanessa winked at the dumbfounded man. "We are catering my cousin, Stephanie’s, party. It seems my cousin's adoptive brother is moving into town. Hey, maybe you know Miles, he's a Newcastle deputy like you too."

"Darling, I know Miles very well, he’s a great guy who makes dumb mistakes." Bryce wasn't about to tell Chef Vanessa Riley that he was Miles. Only his mother and adoptive sister called him by his middle name, Miles. "So, Miles’ adoptive sister, Lieutenant Stephanie Parker, is your cousin?"

"Yes, Lieutenant Stephanie Harris is my cousin. Our mothers were identical triplets. She was kidnapped from my Aunt’s house at the age of four. Harold Blake and his wife at the time adopted Stephany completely unaware that Stephanie had been kidnapped by the owner of the state sanctioned adoption agency. When Stephanie turned six her adoptive mother died, and her adoptive dad remarried a much younger woman. Two years later Harold Blake’s new wife and Stephanie’s Step-Mother gave birth to Miles. Why do you ask?" Vanessa suspiciously eyed the maddening, sexy man.

"Pay that ticket, Chef Riley," he ignored her question, to continue, "If you see Miles before I do, say hi to him for me." Bryce grinned at his private joke. He can't wait until his adoptive sister's dinner party. The look on Chef Vanessa Riley's beautiful face when she discovered that he was actually Miles would make his day. The real reason that Bryce transferred from the St. Augustine Police in Florida to a small town in North Carolina was a sex scandal. About eight months ago he was caught, on video tape, having sex with a female captain while on duty. Police Captain Kate McGuire's career survived the scandal, but his didn't. Bryce was demoted from a Sergeant Detective in the homicide division to a Lieutenant in the patrol division. He had to move away from St. Augustine, Florida to escape the infamous video tape. In the video tape he had the staring roll of engaging in sex with a female superior officer, a woman who was fifteen years older than Bryce.

Vanessa wondered what Lieutenant Bryce Blake thought of so intently. "I've never laid eyes upon Miles. After we're introduced I'll tell Miles about you being a complete ass hole, Lieutenant Bryce Blake. Thanks for the ticket."

"No, thank you, Chef Riley." Bryce smiled at her with malice. "I'll tell Miles that you pretend to be a frosty bitch, but in reality you're a volatile bitch. My dear, you're a fake. I'm going to make it my mission to expose you as the fraud you really are, Chef Vanessa Riley."

"Is that a threat, Lieutenant Blake?" Vanessa taunted, as she proceeded with an additional question, "or is that a promise?"

"That, my dear, is a promise." Bryce leaned forward to get in her face. "Before you storm away on your motorcycle, my sexy redhead, take your foot out of your mouth and put on your helmet. I suggest you slow down and drive your Harley a little less recklessly."

"Go to hell, Lieutenant Blake, you're not the boss of me. You're also not my boyfriend, husband, or lover." Vanessa allowed the jerk to see her anger. Her eyes glowed with intense rage. She took a deep breath and regained control of her emotions.

Bryce leaned forward as his mouth touched the nap of her soft, windblown red hair, to whisper, "Your lover, Chef Riley?"

His warm breath against the nap of her neck was nearly Vanessa's undoing. She unsuccessfully fought the tingling sensation coursing throughout her entire body. "Did I stutter? Are you in need of a hearing aid?" Vanessa didn't wait for his answers, she continued, "I said lover, as in a boyfriend whom I'm engaging in a physical relationship with or making love to. Let me make myself crystal clear, Lieutenant Blake, you're not the boss of me, my boyfriend, husband, or lover."

Bryce ignored her attempt to piss him off. He was going to get an emotional rise out of the sexy redhead one way or another. "Okay, Chef Riley, I'll play your verbal game. Answer me one last question before I let you go?"

Vanessa knew she'd hate herself if she allowed Lieutenant Blake to ask her another question, but for some reason she couldn't resist the man. "Sure, my dear Lieutenant, go ahead and give it to me. You can ask me anything, I don't care."

"I'm going to make my next question crystal clear, Chef Vanessa Courtney Riley. Regarding the position of your boyfriend and lover," Bryce announced as a matter-of-fact, as he asked, "how can I apply for that specific position?"

Just the thought of the jerk touching her in a sexual way aroused Vanessa beyond belief. Her heart pounded violently in her chest and certain parts of her body tingled. She slowly regained her composure to think of a great comeback to his question. "Lieutenant Blake, I doubt if you're qualified for that particular position. My standards for a boyfriend and lover are very high, I don't know if you'd measure up for that specific position."

"Don't worry; I'll qualify for that position. In fact, my dear, you'll beg me to fill that specific position in the near future." Bryce boldly answered back, as he continued, "there are two last things I'd like you to know before you drive off, Chef Riley,” Brice paused, only to continue, “the first thing is to let you know; redheaded bitchy women like you turn me on. And, the second thing you need to know about me, Chef Vanessa Riley, I'd like to get you in several sexual positions."

Vanessa couldn't think of a well deserved come back. She fought the urge to squarely punch Lieutenant Bryce Blake in the mouth. It disturbed her to know that she was physically aroused by the man. Why was she enraged by the cocky jerk, but outrageously attracted to him at the same time? She was a fool to allow Lieutenant Blake to get under her skin. In the future she was going to make it her mission to avoid the man like the plague.