by Kate James
Her smile faded when Rick reached out with his napkin and dabbed at her chin.
He showed her the white cloth with barbecue sauce on it.
“Thanks,” she said, but had a strong urge to raise a hand to her chin, which still tingled from his touch.
Rick savored a piece of grilled chicken and wiped his own mouth. “What brought you here? To San Diego?” he asked. “I trust it’s okay for me to ask?” he amended, referring to the fact that he’d stopped Logan from doing so at the barbecue.
Madison nodded. “I had an opportunity here, career-wise, that I couldn’t get at home.”
Rick leaned back in his chair, watching her attentively. He took a sip from his glass. “Not that I’m complaining, but aren’t there opportunities for veterinarians in El Paso?”
“About the same as anywhere else, I suppose.”
“Then, why did you leave?”
“Research and rehabilitation. There’s groundbreaking work being done here, at the San Diego Animal Rehabilitation Center.” She tasted another chunk of meat. “Mmm. Very tasty.”
“I’m glad you like it. What type of research?”
Surprised, she glanced up at him. She hadn’t expected him to ask for elaboration. In her experience, most people’s eyes glazed over when she tried to explain. “The term is platelet-rich plasma or PRP therapy. It’s a way of treating injuries with a concentration of the patient’s own blood. The treatment was originally used for sports medicine, for spinal cord rehabilitation, even for cosmetic surgery in some cases. It’s been found to be highly effective for nerve, cardiac muscle and bone rehab, and for facilitating soft-tissue repair and wound healing.”
Rick sat silently and looked attentive, so she continued.
“The San Diego Animal Rehab Center also has some of the highest success rates with aqua therapy. Rehabilitation is my area of specialization, and I’m very keen on research.” She looked down at her plate, and added softly, “I can’t stand to see animals suffer, or to be put down if there’s any chance of helping them.”
“Must make it hard to be a veterinarian,” he said gently. “You see animals suffer all the time.”
He was probably thinking that she also had to euthanize them on occasion, but was glad he hadn’t raised it. She didn’t like to dwell on that aspect of her work.
“And the police dogs? Why the interest in them?”
She smiled. “It’s actually related. I worked with police dogs when I was going through school. I know they have a job to do, but they work hard and it broke my heart when they were in pain, whether just from the everyday demands placed on them or because of injury. That’s really how I got into rehab medicine. Although the dogs might need to retire, their pain or injury can be managed and they can live happily to old age. Speaking of living to an old age, can we talk about Zeke for a moment?”
He nodded.
“I’d like to try the PRP therapy on him. There are no significant risks. Less than with a routine vaccination,” she assured him, remembering his concern about experimental treatments. “Look at it as a way of helping the body heal itself.”
She explained the process as it would apply to Zeke.
Rick nodded again and raised his glass to her. “I’m fully supportive. I applaud you for your dedication and caring.”
She was pleased that he was comfortable with it. She knew his support would be crucial to convincing Officer Jeff Bradford’s family to let her proceed. There was a kindness in his eyes that warmed her. She could feel her face flush as she touched her glass to his and took a sip. “Thank you. It’s important to me. It’s why I went into veterinary medicine to begin with.”
“And how do you like it here?”
“I miss my father. But San Diego is exactly what I was hoping for.”
“And what do you do when you’re not working?”
“Owen and I volunteer at a hospital. Owen is a trained therapy dog. We work mostly with the elderly and children. Give them some comfort and amusement when they need it.”
“That’s terrific!” he exclaimed enthusiastically. “I’ve had Sniff visit a children’s hospital with me a couple of times. He loves kids and they respond well to him. Now we mostly do drug counseling for inner-city kids.”
She liked the sound of that. It also pleased her that they had a shared interest in doing community work with their dogs. “How did you get into it?”
He swirled the wine in his glass. “Let’s just say I know the impact drugs can have on a kid’s life. I was exposed to the worst of what drugs can do when I was young. I got through it. I survived and moved beyond it, but I don’t want to see it happen to any other kid if I can help it.”
She remembered someone at the barbecue saying that Rick was born in Mexico.
“What brought you here?” she asked.
Rick shrugged and took a bite. “I wanted to...get some distance from where I was born. Strike out on my own, I suppose. Have you had enough?” he asked, pointing at her plate. When she nodded, he flipped both of their service disks over to red, indicating that they were finished with their main course. He sipped from his glass.
Rick’s oblique response piqued her curiosity again, but she could tell that he didn’t want to discuss it. He signaled for the waitress, and they ordered coffee. They declined dessert because neither of them had room.
They talked about San Diego and its many attractions over coffee.
“Well, I’m glad you decided to move here,” he said as he rose to pull out her chair when they were done. “If there’s anything you need, anyplace you’d like to see, just say the word,” he added when they were walking to his car.
Madison was in a comfortable, dreamy frame of mind as Rick drove her home. She looked over at him, and smiled at the strong profile, the chiseled features and the way his lips curved upward when he must have sensed that she was watching him.
She experienced that little thrill again when he reached over and took her hand. She liked the feel of his fingers, strong and warm, curled around hers. Because she was focused on that, she immediately felt the tensing of his hand before he drew it away and placed it back on the steering wheel. She gave him another sideways glance, but his features were hard and he was no longer smiling.
He signaled right and took an abrupt turn, his gaze alternating between his mirrors and the road ahead of them. He took another sharp turn, this time without signaling.
“This isn’t the way to my house,” Madison mumbled, grasping the handlebar above her head.
“I know. Is your seat belt secure?”
She tugged at it to be certain. “Yes. What’s wrong?”
“We’re being followed.”
“What?” She craned her neck but could only see the glare of headlights through the back window. She leaned forward and tried to see behind them in the side-view mirror. “Are you sure?”
“Not a hundred percent. But fairly certain. The vehicle followed us around both turns.”
His tires screeched as he took another sudden turn. Madison could definitely see a set of lights following them.
Rick got out his cell phone and searched for a number. “Dispatch, this is Sergeant Rick Vasquez,” he said, and recited his badge number. “I have a tail...No, I don’t...No, I can’t see the plate. Can’t identify the make and model...Yes. I’ll lead them there. I’m driving my own vehicle.” He gave Dispatch the particulars of his car. “All right. Thanks. Out.”
Madison’s nerves were on edge. If Rick had called it in, he was obviously concerned. She had a lot of questions but decided to stay silent. She’d let him concentrate on driving and leading whoever was following them to the location he’d arranged with Dispatch.
She could tell the vehicle was closing in because of the blinding glare of headlights. When the headlights got brighter still a
nd Rick swerved, she held on tight but gasped.
“It’s okay. Just hold on.”
“What happened?”
“He was trying to pass us.”
“Why?” Her voice quavered.
“I don’t know. Hold on,” he repeated.
Madison assumed they were nearing the location where the police were waiting for them. Her suspicion was confirmed when Rick got on the phone again to tell them they were almost there. She was still watching the side-view mirror and saw the lights behind them recede and then disappear. When Rick moderated his speed, she sat back in her seat and kept her eyes on him. He pulled over, staring into his rearview mirror. Finally, he smacked the steering wheel. “Damn it!”
Madison felt the panic gurgle up her throat, even though she trusted Rick to take care of her. “What’s wrong?” she asked again.
“Our tail swerved off to the right. I was trying to get a look at the vehicle to determine its make and model, or at least see if I could find any distinguishing characteristics. But it was too dark, and I saw it for just a second when it rounded that last corner.”
Madison had glimpsed it for a moment, too, through the side-view mirror. As Rick had reported to Dispatch, it was an SUV. But she presumed he’d known that from the height and position of the headlights, even though he couldn’t see anything else because its high beams were on.
“It was a large SUV, dark color, right?” she asked him.
Edging his vehicle away from the curb, he kept glancing at the rearview mirror. “Yeah. The only other thing I noticed was the reflection on the wheels, suggesting they were chromed, but that was it. Did you notice anything else?”
“No.” Madison saw that Rick was still focused on the rearview. She swung around in the seat; all she could see was a quiet street in the glow of muted streetlights. “What’s wrong now?” she asked, her voice higher than normal despite her best efforts to control it.
He reached across the center console and took her hand in his. “Nothing. It’s okay now. Whoever was tailing us is gone. I just want to make sure they don’t sneak up behind us with their lights off.”
He called Dispatch again to let them know what had happened. He agreed to proceed to the location where the police were waiting for them, just to be safe. Madison couldn’t argue with the strategy.
Rick pulled over again when they saw a police cruiser parked a short distance ahead. He turned to Madison. “Not exactly how I imagined our date would end,” he said with a frustrated laugh.
Her nerves were still raw. Who could blame her? Being in a car chase, even sitting next to a cop, wasn’t an everyday occurrence. “Well, I did ask for something different, didn’t I?” She attempted to make light of it, for her own sake as much as his.
He laughed again, but now it had a genuine ring. “I aim to please.” He took a strand of her hair in his hand and ran it through his fingers. The simple gesture caused Madison’s heartbeat to accelerate.
“With what happened to...”
She was certain he was going to refer to the officer who’d been killed. Apparently he thought better of it, most likely to avoid scaring her any more than she already was.
“We don’t want to take any chances. I’m going to have to go into the division. I’ll have one of the other cops take you home, if that’s okay with you.”
She nodded but regret mingled with concern. “Sure. I understand.”
He let the strand of her hair slip through his fingers. “I’ll make it up to you, okay? If you’ll let me.”
She nodded again.
“Promise?” He gave her an apologetic smile, then pulled away from the curb and parked behind the police car.
There were three cars—two cruisers, and the third appeared to be a private vehicle. Four cops were clustered on the sidewalk. Another sat in one of the cruisers, talking on his radio. They must have known that the immediate threat was over, but based on their stance and body language, Madison could tell they remained vigilant.
“Wait here for a minute,” Rick asked before he got out of his vehicle. He huddled with the cops, the fifth one getting out of the car to join them. Rick came back a few minutes later with a cop she remembered from the captain’s barbecue. His name slipped her mind. Rick opened the passenger door and helped her out. “Madison, you remember Tom?”
That was it. Tom... Tom Brody. She nodded.
“Tom’s shift is almost over. Your place isn’t far from his, so he’ll take you home.” He dropped his voice so only she could hear. “I know he was a jerk at the barbecue, but he’s on duty now and he will be until he drops you off. He’ll get you home safe, okay?”
“Should I be worried?”
She caught the momentary pause before he shook his head. Her anxiety spiked again, but she trusted Rick. She nodded to indicate that she was okay with Brody taking her home and turned to the other cop. “Officer Brody.” She offered her hand, and found his disconcertingly soft and damp. “Thank you for making the time to take me home.”
It appeared that she and Rick weren’t going to get a moment alone, because Brody was standing there waiting to lead her to his car. “Good night, Rick, and thank you for dinner,” she said to him.
“Good night.” He leaned in and touched his lips to hers, briefly, gently. “Call me if you want. It doesn’t matter what time it is.” He gave Brody a stern look before he headed back to the group of cops.
Moments later, she and Brody were in his car on Harbor Road, driving to her house. Madison sat stiffly in her seat and stared straight ahead. Maybe he’d noticed her discomfort because he made an attempt at small talk. He was trying to put her at ease, she supposed, but she wasn’t interested. She kept her responses short and evasive, turning her mind to the evening with Rick. She found that just thinking about him diminished her anxiety.
Madison couldn’t deny a growing fascination with the handsome policeman. She was drawn by his kind heart and great sense of humor. His devotion to helping kids and their shared love of animals were definite pluses, as well. Although the evening hadn’t ended quite the way they’d hoped, she’d had a wonderful time.
When Brody stopped in her driveway, she thanked him politely for the ride. He offered to walk her to her door, but she declined. She took Owen briefly out into the backyard to do his business. Once they were back inside, she double-checked to make sure all the doors were locked. As an afterthought, she switched on her front and back porch lights, just in case. It wasn’t every day a person got tailed. As composed as she’d tried to be on the outside, she had to admit to a level of disquiet she’d never felt before.
CHAPTER EIGHT
RICK STAYED AT the division until nearly midnight. They had no idea who’d been tailing him, nor could they pick up the vehicle with any certainty on a traffic camera. He just hadn’t seen enough of it to be able to narrow it down. Dark SUVs with chrome wheels were popular.
He and the other cops kicked the possibilities around, and the probable answer was some punks joyriding. But they couldn’t dismiss the idea that it was just too coincidental, happening so soon after the incident with Jeff, and the fact that it was highly probable that whoever it was could be monitoring police communications. The tail had abandoned the chase abruptly when Rick was nearing the meet location. Just too coincidental...
Rick wanted to call Madison on his way home to make sure she was okay, and to apologize again for the abrupt and less-than-pleasant end to their evening. But it was late and he didn’t want to wake her. He knew she had to be at work in the morning. He had an early start the next day, too.
After taking Sniff for a short walk, he went upstairs and sprawled out on his bed. With everything happening at work, he was surprised it was Madison and their evening together that was still on his mind when he drifted off to sleep.
It seemed he’d just closed
his eyes when his alarm went off. This was the first time in a long while that he wasn’t up before his alarm sounded. Sniff was doing a little dance, anxious to be fed and to go outside, and Rick obliged him while he had his own breakfast.
Rick thought about Madison all the way to the division, and found himself humming a tune he’d heard, not unlike his mother had a tendency to do when she was happy.
He wanted to talk to Madison. Just hear her voice. And that was crazy...but there it was. He looked at his watch even though he knew it wasn’t a respectable hour to call. But he’d call her soon.
Brody was on the early shift and Rick had already checked in with him. He’d confirmed that he’d gotten Madison home okay, but that did nothing to alleviate Rick’s need to talk to her. Last night had been a rude and early introduction to what it meant to be dating a cop. Other than a natural apprehensiveness, she seemed to handle it well. That might have been her father’s influence. He was a Supreme Court judge and a high-profile lawyer before that, so he’d probably dealt with cases that had attracted intimidation attempts. Madison wouldn’t have been unaware of or immune to those. Still, Rick didn’t want the exposure to the realities of his job to scare her off.
As he entered the division parking lot, he turned his thoughts to the Los Zetas Cartel. The more he considered it, the more he suspected that his tail the night before had been drug-cartel related. He hoped Los Zetas hadn’t gotten wind of what the SDPD was planning and decided on a preemptive strike.
He dismissed the idea of that as too far-fetched.
There were too few people who knew about their plans, and those people were all cops wanting to see the end of the cartel’s activities in San Diego as much as he did. They were all aware of how dangerous it could be if any of the information leaked to the cartel bosses. Even within his own unit, relevant information was shared only on a need-to-know basis.
Glancing over at the training yard, he swore under his breath, slammed into Park and jumped out of his vehicle. He sprinted across the yard, grabbing a padded decoy sleeve from a bench.