His client’s ball rolled within a couple of feet of his on the green. Some men would purposely miss the shot, taking a stroke to appease the client.
Colin made the shot. And increased his lead.
* * *
SHE ATE ICE CREAM. Went into work. Wayne was off. She’d known he would be and didn’t call him in spite of the fact that she now had a doctor’s name to give him. She needed time to think.
To talk to Julie again.
To see what Colin knew.
If, as she now suspected, the commissioner was in on the corruption that had allowed David Smyth to walk away from rape charges, any hint that the case was being reexamined could put both Colin and Julie in danger.
She had Leslie to look out for, too. In a crime that was ongoing. A further crime that could be prevented. James Morrison was also friends with the commissioner. She’d seen them together that first night, at the art auction.
If Julie’s word that David Smyth had raped her, coupled with a medical report attesting to the same, hadn’t been enough to get charges pressed, if strong evidence could just disappear, how was she ever going to hang a conviction on James Morrison?
No wonder his wife wouldn’t speak up. She’d fear for her life.
Chantel saw no good way out. She also was not a quitter. Ever. The day she turned her back on people in need was the day she might as well be dead. Even if she couldn’t help bring justice to Julie, for now, her best shot at getting any real information about the Morrison household would be through Julie.
Julie.
She couldn’t get the woman, the determined and lost look in her eyes, or her brother out of her mind.
She couldn’t put them at risk without their knowing. She’d have to come clean to do that. And lose what might be their only chance to find enough proof of violence to charge James Morrison, and then be ready to catch the commissioner trying to make the paperwork disappear.
She needed more information before she could do anything. Undercover work required patience.
Not her strongest suit.
But she’d be strong enough.
In the meantime, on her dinner break from the most boring detail of all time, she made a phone call while eating a double cheeseburger and fries—sitting alone in the cruiser while her partner enjoyed a Chinese dinner with two other cops. She pushed the first speed dial button on Harris’s cheap smartphone.
“What’s up? You coming for dinner tomorrow?” Max asked, picking up on the first ring. Which probably meant one or other of the kids had just fallen asleep on his shoulder and he hadn’t wanted the phone to wake them. Max and Meri had dual rockers in the nursery and rocked them together every night that they could.
Chantel wasn’t jealous of them. She just tended to forget bedtime more often than she should.
And they never called her out on it, but she always felt guilty when she realized the time.
“I’m sorry,” she said now. Knowing that just as he didn’t want the ringing phone to wake either Haley or Caleb, he also wouldn’t talk much. She kind of liked that part. Her being able to do all the talking without him butting in, telling her what to do. Or what not to do.
“I did it again.” She took a bite of burger. “I keep saying I won’t and then I do.” A fry followed the bite of burger. “You know that you and Meri and the kids mean everything to me. I just... I need to be more in tune.” She was going to work on it.
Harder. “Just know that I’m truly sorry. Every single damn time I do this...”
Max wasn’t good about letting her apologize. Or speak about her feelings. He just wanted to brush everything off and tell her it was all okay.
Which it was.
But sometimes you just needed to be able to get things off your chest. Guilt had a way of building up, and nothing good could come of that.
“I need a favor, Max.”
“Anything.” His soft tone was followed by some rustling. She figured he’d either put the child to bed or that Meri had taken him or her.
She felt a pang. Just because it felt so good to hold those babies.
Not because she didn’t have any of her own. And, at the rate she was going, probably wouldn’t.
“It’s a biggie.”
“I figured as much, or you wouldn’t have called right now.”
“Why do you say that?”
“You only call in the evening if it’s really important.”
So...maybe he was right. She didn’t like to interrupt his and Meri’s special time. Lord knew, she’d done enough of that when he’d been with Jill. Maybe that was part of the reason his marriage to Jill wasn’t as close as it could have been.
“What’s up?” he asked.
“Ten years ago a girl was raped. It was pretty brutal. She went to the emergency room here in Santa Raquel right afterward. A rape kit was done. Medical report stated that rape was obvious, even without the kit.”
“What can I do? You need me to look at the report? Give expert witness testimony?”
“The report vanished, Max.”
“What do you mean, vanished?”
“There’s no record here. No record of charges being filed, either, but I know the girl made an official report. She was forced to make a deal, stating that the rape didn’t happen. The report vanished, along with the medical evidence. But there might be a copy of it at the hospital. The doctor’s name was Albertson—a female. I have no idea if she’s still there, but you doctors are meticulous. She probably left a record someplace. Of course, it could have disappeared, too, for all I know. Unless she’s still there and kept a private record.”
“I don’t want to know why you’re looking at this again, do I?”
“Probably not.”
“Is danger involved?”
“Possibly.”
“But it would be less if I could find a copy of the report?”
If she didn’t have the report, the commissioner wouldn’t have as much reason to be concerned—assuming he was on to her before she was ready to go to the mayor. Or higher. Assuming he really was in on the corruption.
“Let’s just say it could be much less messy and my chances of success would be much better.”
“And if I don’t help, there’s no chance you’re dropping this, is there?”
“You know me well enough to figure out the answer to that.”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
“You’re the best, Max...”
Daniel would be out soon.
She needed to thank Max for his time and finish her burger.
“You okay otherwise?” Max asked when she hung on the line.
“Of course. I’m always good. You know that.”
But...
“Can I ask you something?” she said into the silence when he didn’t do the polite thing and end the call.
“I’m still here, aren’t I?”
“When you were married to Jill, were you happy?”
His hesitation was to be expected. It wasn’t a fair question. Not with Meri right there. Not with Meri in his life.
“Because of Meri, you mean? Because you know how completely she’s the love of my life?”
“No...”
“It’s a valid question, Chantel. Especially for you to ask. You were her best friend. And the answer is...sometimes. I loved Jill. You know that. I just...”
“Hated her job.”
“I hated how helpless it made me feel. I hated knowing my wife, the woman who had sole possession of my heart, was putting herself in harm’s way on a daily basis and there was nothing I could do to protect her.”
“Except trust her, her training, her fellow officers, to do the protecting.” It’s what she’d need any man who was in love with her to do.<
br />
“How well did that work out?”
She’d walked right into that one. “So you’re saying a female cop shouldn’t ever get married because her job interferes with a man’s natural instinct to protect?”
“No! This isn’t about Jill at all, is it?”
“It’s not about anyone. It’s hypothetical.”
“You’ve met someone.”
“I have not.” She was emphatic about that. “I’m far too busy right now to even think about meeting someone. In case you’ve forgotten, I’m currently working a full-time double with maintaining my regular shift and then doing this undercover thing.” But if she didn’t give him something, he’d start drawing erroneous conclusions. Like maybe that her undercover work was getting to her. That she was falling for someone in the fake life she was leading. “I just... I’m almost thirty-three,” she told him. “And starting to face that fact that I’m probably never going to have kids of my own.”
Yeah, keep it about the kids. Max was a pediatrician. His whole life revolved around kids. His patients—and even more, the two he shared with Meri. He’d get the kid thing.
He got the kid thing. So much that he was still talking about her making whatever changes she needed to make so she didn’t rob herself of the best thing life had to offer when she saw Daniel at the register inside the restaurant. Cramming the rest of her burger in her mouth, she told Max she had to go.
* * *
JULIE WAS LOCKED in her room when Colin stopped home to shower and change before meeting Luke Hudson, a law school friend. They talked about college, the law review they’d both been a part of. About sailing and golfing. And getting together again soon.
Neither of them had married, which was probably part of the reason they’d maintained close enough contact to meet for dinner at least once a month.
Luke asked about Julie. Colin said she was well. As soon as dinner was over, he headed home to find out what had upset his sister at the library committee meeting earlier that day.
* * *
DINNER WAS OVER, and the cavalcade was out in front of a resort just down from where Johnson was staying. At her post across from Daniel, Chantel guarded the sidewalk at the left side of valet parking—an area cordoned off from resort guests that evening. The red carpet, which had seen the governor, his entourage and a couple of Hollywood’s most successful darlings earlier that evening, was still laid out flat, waiting for those same shoe prints to traverse it one more time as they left the governor’s birthday celebration. She wished they’d get on with it. It had to happen before Chantel would be free to hightail it back to the station, change and catch her cab to the Landau.
Johnson’s phone, in the shirt pocket of her uniform, vibrated just above her nipple. Liquid heat bubbled for an instant in her midsection. Looking around, Chantel slid out the phone. Daniel and three other cops were talking quietly among themselves while keeping an eye on the secured area around them. She glanced at the text.
Jules said you know.
Had to be about Smyth.
Yes.
She typed with the thumb of the hand holding her phone. Her other hand rested just above her loaded holster, as it always did when she was on an assignment like this one. Just because danger had never happened on one of her babysitting watches didn’t mean it never would.
Sharing that information puts her in danger of lawsuit. At the very least.
She read the text and looked around before responding.
I know.
Is your mother’s name Pamela?
The question was so out of the blue she stared at it for a moment longer than she might have done.
And then she knew. Publishing in New York. The Johnsons. Pam was listed as publisher and CEO. He’d been checking up on her.
Because Julie had exposed herself, and Colin needed to know she was safe with Chantel? How far had he gone? Would he go?
No. My aunt.
She had to call her. To explain, in case he called. Had he already called?
She thought she heard a noise just off her left shoulder. Her heart had already been pounding. Adrenaline raced right along with it as she spun.
A body, dressed all in black, slid behind a pillar. Chantel quickly and quietly slid to the front of the same pillar, reached for her Taser gun and glanced to see if Daniel was watching.
He was not only aware, he’d moved into position across from the pillar. Signaled that he had his eye on the perp. A third officer appeared in Chantel’s peripheral vision and, within seconds, everyone moved at once.
Thank God they had.
Five minutes later, when the governor appeared, the white, nineteen-year-old male was in handcuffs on the way to the station. The grenade he’d been holding, ready to lob at the state official, was on its way to the lab.
Daniel, who liked the limelight, was happy to make a statement to the press who’d been present in the wings, leaving Chantel to head back to the station in the backseat of another cruiser, with just enough time to get changed.
Lucky for her she was so invisible to her partner he’d never think to mention her part in the night’s adventure.
Lucky for the governor that she’d been there when she had.
Which was why she did what she did.
Being known didn’t matter. Making a difference in a positive way did.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
HE WENT TO her because he had to. Colin didn’t kid himself into thinking that he was only standing in the elevator at the Landau just before midnight on Saturday out of politeness.
No matter how much his life had started to fly out of control since Chantel Johnson had dropped into it, he was at least going to be honest with himself. He was addicted to her.
In less than two weeks’ time.
His father had fallen for his mother the same way. Only the way he’d told the story, he’d announced to his father the night he’d met Colin’s mother that he’d met the woman he was going to marry.
It was an age-old thing—guys being knocked for a loop the second they set eyes on their soul mates. Fodder for TV movies and country music.
He didn’t believe in any of it.
But he knocked on the door of Room 12334 at five minutes to twelve with desire in his blood and an openness to possibility pushing at the rest of him.
When the door didn’t immediately open, he took a step back. Pursed his lips. Nodded his head and acknowledged the deep pounding of his heart.
There could be many reasons for her not to be there.
Some of them good ones.
Not so many that would also explain the lack of a phone call to save him the trip over here.
He knocked again. What was going on?
It was possible that she’d come to some harm and needed help.
Or wasn’t feeling well.
It was possible she was hiding something from him. She’d appeared out of nowhere, with only a hard-to-come-by invitation as an introduction to a pretty close-knit society.
One in which anything or anyone could be bought.
Her name hadn’t been registered on the guest registry.
Maybe the name she’d given him wasn’t really hers.
Julie had trusted her with information that she’d sworn, under oath and by legal signature, not to share.
And what did they really know about Chantel Johnson? Other than the fact that both he and his sister had taken to her immediately—each in their own, completely different ways.
She had an aunt named Pamela who was in the publishing industry in New York.
Julie trusted her.
Colin trusted her more than he trusted most people.
And...
The door flew open. She stood there, an apology on her lips, lookin
g gorgeous in black pants and a black-and-white jacket—stating professionalism as opposed to an evening out. Her blond hair, still full of body, hung around her shoulders and down her back. All he could think about was the way it had tickled his chest—and then other parts of him as she’d moved over his body the night before.
Had it only been a night ago? That incredible sex that seemed like eons past?
“I had to take a call,” she was saying. He noticed her lips. And realized that she’d just said something about having been on the phone with her mother.
“It’s two o’clock in the morning in New York,” he said.
“I know. Which is why I had to pick up. Turns out she couldn’t sleep and was missing me and knew that I’d still be up.”
“You’re a night person?” Hands in his pockets, he stood in the doorway, thinking that as much as she’d begun to consume his life, he should know something as simple as her sleeping habits.
He wanted everything—from social security number properly registered to Chantel Johnson on down.
“Always have been,” she said, stepping back, inviting him in.
He accepted, keeping his suit coat on as he sauntered past the bed and over to the wet bar.
A couple of crystal decanters were there, one with bourbon, one Scotch. They’d be top-shelf. No question there.
He eyed the bourbon. There was no real need for his sour mood. Julie would only be in legal danger if Chantel Johnson betrayed her. And what reason could she have for doing that? His trust issues were the problem. He was letting them control him. “You want a drink?” he asked.
“I’d love one.” She was watching him. The look in her eye reminding him of prey being circled. And he hated that he had that effect on her—making her feel cornered.
“What’s your pleasure?” He waited to pour her drink before helping himself to a shot of bourbon.
“Scotch.”
“With water?”
Her hesitation struck him, until she shrugged and said, “No, straight. And if that’s unladylike, I’m sorry. In New York, I drink it straight.”
More that he hadn’t known about her. So much of it stretched between them, causing him discomfort.
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