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Treachery Rising (MidKnight Blue Book 4)

Page 3

by Sherryl Hancock


  Midnight wanted to prove a point, not break the woman’s jaw. Sarah straightened immediately, taking a step back from Midnight as if she now considered her a threat. The class broke into a roar of cheering and applause. Midnight watched Sarah closely, half expecting the woman to try something else, just to get even. Sarah limped back to the group, saying nothing. Midnight’s eyes followed her, and when she looked back at Midnight to find her watching her, she saw the barely veiled threat in her eyes. Midnight did not take kindly to people messing with the people she loved, and as far as she was concerned, Joe loved Randy, and by definition, Sarah was screwing with that.

  Chapter 2

  After the accident, Joe had been invited to the Harland home for dinner. The first night he met the Harlands he found himself being scrutinized by the middle brother, who was about ten years Joe’s junior. Gary Harland was suspicious of Sergeant Sinclair; he was very protective of his baby sister, and he didn’t want anyone to hurt her. At one point Gary caught Joe alone in the sitting room of their elegant older home. Gary, who was a full head shorter than Joe, walked over to the Englishman.

  “So,” he said, being a straightforward kind of guy, “you’re not after my sister, are ya?”

  Joe looked at the younger man, surprised by his frankness. He held up his left hand, showing him his wedding band. “Not allowed to be,” he said simply.

  “Yeah,” Gary said, his face showing that he wasn’t convinced, “but you and I both know that doesn’t always mean shit to a cop.”

  “It does to this one,” Joe replied, turning and walking into other room.

  Gary watched him go with a new respect for Joe Sinclair.

  During dinner the discussion ranged from the progress at the academy to Jessica’s progress at the range. Martha remarked later about the pride in Joe’s face when he told them how well Jessica was doing. Then they talked about San Diego, and whether Joe liked living there. They asked if he owned a house in San Diego, to which Jessica had made a choking sound.

  “Shut up,” Joe had said, smiling at her. The rest of the family looked on, waiting for an explanation.

  “You see,” Jessica said, gesturing with her fork, “Sergeant Sinclair is what we would call filthy, stinking rich.”

  There was silence in the room as the Harlands waited to be told that it was a joke. But that was not forthcoming.

  “Really?” Gary asked. Then the youngest brother, James, stepped in.

  “Just how rich is that, Sergeant Sinclair?” James’ eyes were wide in mock wonderment.

  Joe looked at them both and grinned. “Very,” he said, raising his eyebrows suggestively. The other two men broke into raucous laughter.

  “Boys!” Martha Harland said, giving Joe a stern look as well, at which he feigned obedience.

  “Sorry, ma’am,” Joe said, his eyes down, a grin still on his face, much like the ones on Jessica’s, Gary’s, and James’ faces.

  “Like hell,” Martha said, surprising Joe.

  They ate in companionable silence for a while. Then Martha looked over at Joe, noticing his wedding ring for the first time.

  “You’re married, I see,” she said pleasantly.

  Joe nodded slowly, not looking exactly happy.

  “Why the long face?” Martha asked, a mother to the very core.

  “Long story,” Joe replied, waving away her concern. Martha got the hint and dropped the subject.

  That evening, Joe sat in the bedroom of the townhouse and thought about calling Randy. The thought irritated him. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the fact that she was hanging around with Dick Dickerson. Joe didn’t know much about the man, but he had heard that the vice cops tended toward womanizing, since they were used to dealing with hookers and the like. Joe’s imagination had wandered just about everywhere, but he knew if anything happened, Midnight would tell him. It galled him that he was now in this position, not sure whether or not he should call his own wife. Part of him was afraid of what she’d say in any case.

  The next morning he was tired and not in a good mood. He and Jessica were riding together since the accident, at first because her car wasn’t fixed and then because he felt better driving her home rather than letting something like that happen again. Jessica had told her father about Joe’s insistence that while he was around, he didn’t want her taking chances like that. What Joe had come to calling the Harland Gang approved highly of Joe’s opinion, and were happy that he was driving her to and from Yuba College. The family thought a lot of Joseph Sinclair, and felt that either way he was good for Jessica, especially if he could restore her nerve to get back on the street.

  “Problems?” Jessica asked, eyeing him as he drove.

  “Not new ones,” he replied.

  Jessica was silent for a while. Then she looked over at him again, noticing that he was twisting his wedding band around with his thumb, deep in thought. “Is it about your wife?”

  Joe looked at her for a long second. “Have I said anything about my wife?”

  “No,” Jessica said. “That’s what made me think you were having problems in the first place.”

  Joe shook his head. “I really gotta get you into the detective’s test,” he said, his voice reflecting his amazement.

  “What’s her name, anyway?” Jessica asked, happy that he thought so much of her deductions and that he seemed halfway willing to talk to her about his problems.

  “Randy.”

  “Interesting name,” Jessica said, with no malice in her voice. “How did you meet her?”

  “She was my secretary.”

  “Oh, so it was like that, huh?” Jessica said, a knowing look on her face.

  “Like what?” Joe asked, looking over at her.

  “Sexual harassment,” Jessica said, with the beginnings of a grin.

  “It was not!”

  “Well, not really, because obviously she liked it.” Jessica was laughing by this time, and Joe just shook his head at her.

  “So what happened?” she asked.

  “She wanted to become a cop, and I didn’t want her to,” Joe said, shrugging.

  “So you left her because you didn’t want her to be a cop?” Jessica asked, incredulous.

  “No, she left me, but I’m not really sure why.”

  “So why didn’t you want her to be a cop?”

  “Because I’m worried about her, that’s why.”

  “What’s there to worry about?”

  “If she got hurt, or worse.” Joe hesitated, obviously thinking about what could be worse. Then he said, “I don’t know what I’d do.”

  “So what makes you think she’ll get hurt? I mean, don’t they train you people very well down there?” There was a note of humor in her voice, and Joe couldn’t help but smile.

  “Probably just as well as they train ’em up here,” he said, an oblique reference to her shooting incident only two months into her street time.

  Jessica grinned. “Point taken,” she said, noting Joe’s satisfied smile. “Why are you so paranoid though?”

  Joe was silent again for a few moments, then he said, quietly, “Because I know what it’s like.”

  “Like?”

  “To lose someone you love,” Joe said. Jessica could see the pain written on his face.

  “Who, Joe? Who did you lose?”

  “I lost my parents to a rival gang member. He wanted to get me.” Joe shook his head. “He got them instead.”

  “How old were you then?” Jessica asked, surprised to be hearing this.

  “Almost twenty-one.”

  Jessica was silent for a while. “So that’s when you became well-off,” she said. “And then you moved here?”

  “In a roundabout way, yeah.”

  “And you became a police officer,” she continued, and Joe nodded. “And how long have you and Lieutenant Chevalier been partners?”

  “A little over seven years.”

  “No wonder,” Jessica said.

  “No wonder what?�


  “Well, she seems to know you pretty well.”

  “She does, we’re pretty close.”

  “How close?” Jessica asked, detecting a different tone in his voice.

  “Well,” Joe began, looking just slightly embarrassed, “we’ve been as close as you can get.”

  “That explains a lot.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Joe asked, curious rather than defensive.

  Jessica shrugged. “Just that you seem very defensive of her, and that’s usually territory covered by a lover, not a friend.”

  “Well, we aren’t lovers anymore. Haven’t been for a long time now. We just have a different kind of relationship.” He looked over at Jessica. “You gotta understand that Midnight and I come from some seriously damaged backgrounds, and we’ve basically needed each other to survive all this time.”

  “And that’s okay with your wife?” Jessica asked skeptically.

  “Randy knows about me and Midnight. If Midnight needs me, I’m there. It’s the same for her,” Joe replied, defensively this time.

  “Knowing about something and being okay with it are two different things, Joe.”

  Joe looked at her. “She’s never said anything,” he said, sounding less sure of himself suddenly.

  Jessica shrugged. “When did the trouble between you two start?”

  “When she told me she wanted to be a cop.”

  “When was the last time Midnight needed you?” Jessica asked evenly. She knew she was getting into unchartered territory now, and that she had to be careful.

  “Midnight’s married, for God’s sake!” Joe said, not willing to play the game.

  “You said that was for the time being.”

  “It is, but—”

  “But, did you have to be there for your partner lately? And where did that leave your wife?”

  Joe was quiet for a while, thinking back. He thought about the night Randy left. He’d asked about Midnight calling and Randy had flown off the handle. In fact, she had asked what was “going on” with Midnight before he asked if she’d called. “Shit,” Joe said, starting to put it together. He looked over at Jessica. She had been watching him, and she could see that he had never even thought about how it might appear. It was very obvious that his love for his partner was indeed innocent, but obviously his wife had started to feel insecure about her place in his life. Hence the breakup.

  When she looked at Joe again, he was shaking his head at her.

  “What?” she said.

  “I really need to get you made a detective.”

  They were both silent for the rest of the drive, and fifteen minutes later they were at the college. When Joe opened her door for her, as he had taken to doing, he surprised her by taking her hand to help her out. Then he pulled her to him and hugged her. “Thank you,” he said, and Jessica felt very special.

  Later in the day, as she watched him on the range, she realized she was indeed very jealous of Randy Sinclair. Joseph Michael Sinclair was the most incredible combination of tough and sensitive, and one hell of a gorgeous man to boot, and all Jessica could think was, Randy, you owe me a big one.

  ****

  It was the middle of the following week when Joe called Midnight at home, and in her exhaustion she hadn’t managed to be evasive enough when he asked how her academy training day had gone. She had replied, “Well, once I took Randy and her buddy into hand, everything was fine.” Her voice conveyed the anger she still felt when she thought about the confrontation at the academy class. Dickerson had mentioned attempting more self-control next time, and Midnight had responding by telling him to shove it up his ass and followed up by telling him that perhaps he should teach his “girlfriend” and his sister to learn to keep their mouths shut.

  “What happened?” Joe asked, sensing Midnight’s instant hesitation. When she didn’t reply, Joe grew angry and impatient at not being at home to keep an eye on things. “Damn it, Night, tell me.”

  “Joe,” Midnight began, not wanting to tell him this on the phone, but knowing there was no way out of it now. “Jesus,” she said, tears already starting in her eyes. Her voice reflected those tears. “It’s Randy, Joe. God, I’m sorry, she’s…” But she couldn’t bring herself to tell him about Randy’s new boyfriend.

  Joe knew before Midnight even had to finish. He knew she would have called him immediately if Randy had been hurt, and he knew there was probably only one other thing that would make Midnight act the way she was. “She’s screwin’ him, isn’t she?” Joe said. His voice sounded so far away, and Midnight just wanted to crawl through the phone line to try and cushion the pain she knew he was experiencing at that moment.

  “Yeah,” was all she could say, her voice a mere painful whisper.

  Joe was silent for a long time, and Midnight suspected that tears were streaming from his eyes, but he wanted to hold on to some modicum of pride.

  “You okay?” she asked finally, feeling nervous about his state of mind.

  “Yeah.” Joe’s reply came in the same tone as her admission minutes before. “I gotta go, Night. I just… I gotta go.” Joe hung up, and Midnight felt a stab of fear for her partner. She didn’t know what he was going to do, but she waited over the next couple of days to hear from him. When he didn’t call and he didn’t answer her texts, she grew desperate. She called the Sacramento Police Department, identifying herself as a San Diego PD lieutenant and asking the dispatcher for Officer Jessica Harland’s home number. Midnight was in her car and asked the dispatcher to transfer her. The dispatcher did as requested, but when Midnight got Jessica’s house, Jessica’s mother told her that Jessica was at the academy. Midnight explained that she was worried about her partner, Joe Sinclair, and that she needed to get ahold of Jessica to find out if he was okay. Martha Harland already had a soft spot for the man who had, as far as she was concerned, saved her daughter’s life. She gave Midnight the cell number right away, indicating to Midnight that she herself hadn’t seen Sergeant Sinclair over the last two days.

  Midnight texted Jessica. When Jessica didn’t answer, Midnight made a decision. She called the airlines and booked a flight for Sacramento. Before she left the office she texted Rick, and also texted Jessica again.

  When her phone rang, she grabbed it. “Yeah?”

  “You rang?” Rick said amiably.

  “Yeah,” Midnight said, looking at her watch as she drove. “Look, I need you to do me a big favor.”

  “And that would be?” Rick asked when she didn’t continue.

  “I need you to take Keyla for the weekend.”

  “I see,” Rick replied, sounding irritated.

  “Look.” Midnight sighed. “Don’t start with me, okay. I need you to do this. I have to go out of town, and Marie has the weekend off.”

  “Where is it you have to go?” Rick asked, still sounding irritated. Midnight could tell he thought she was going on some fling.

  “I have to go to Sacramento, okay. Joe’s up there and I can’t get ahold of him, and…” She hesitated, sounding really concerned. “He’s really screwed up right now.”

  Rick was silent for a moment. “You told him?” he asked, knowing there was only one thing that would send Joe into a tailspin at this point.

  “I didn’t mean to,” Midnight said, “but hell, he would have found out eventually anyway. But now I can’t get ahold of him, Rick.” Her voice pleaded with him, and Rick couldn’t help but feel for her at that moment. “If something’s happened…” She trailed off, and he could almost see the tears in her eyes.

  “He’s alright, Midnight,” Rick assured her. “And yeah, I’ll take care of Keyla.”

  “Thanks,” Midnight said, sounding relieved.

  “Let me know how he is, okay?” Rick said. “I’ll meet you at the house in a half hour.”

  They hung up, and Midnight reflected on the three of them. It was funny how when one of them was in real trouble, they could all put aside their own problems to help each other out. Cops were
like that though, and the thought made Midnight feel a little stronger, just knowing that she could always rely on her friends when things were really bad. She realized then why Rick’s infidelity had been so hard on her. It wasn’t so much that he’d cheated, but that she had felt like she couldn’t trust him anymore, couldn’t count on him anymore. He was with an outsider now, and she couldn’t expect him to drop everything when she or Joe needed him—maybe Sheila wouldn’t understand, and maybe he’d decide to take her over them. Midnight pushed aside her train of thought as her car phone rang again.

  This time it was Jessica.

  “Lieutenant Chevalier?” She sounded uncertain; she hadn’t been sure who was paging her, but she had hoped it had been Joe’s partner.

  “Yes, Jessica, it’s me. Look, how’s Joe? Have you seen him?”

  “Thank God you called, Lieutenant. I don’t know how he is, but I know it’s not good. He was real quiet on Thursday, and then this morning he called me and told me he wasn’t coming. He sounded really strange, so I went by the townhouse, and he was really bad off.”

  “He’s been drinking,” Midnight said.

  “How’d you know?” Jessica asked, amazed.

  “My partner has a propensity for drunken stupors when he’s having a rough time. Right now it’s really bad.”

  “It’s his wife, isn’t it?”

  “I don’t know how much he’s told you…” Midnight started.

  “She’s cheating on him, isn’t she?” It was more of a statement than a question.

 

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