For all Intents and Purposes (MidKnight Blue Book 6)

by Sherryl Hancock

  Jeanie pulled down the visor and checked her makeup. He was right; it was fine. But he didn’t say my makeup was fine, he said I look great, she thought. Did he mean it that way? She clamped down on the thoughts. Here she was acting like a schoolgirl with a crush. And suddenly she realized that that was exactly what it was—she had a crush on Donovan Curtis. Would wonders never cease?

  When they reached the bar called 10-7, which was the police code for off duty, Jeanie was impressed. She knew that 10-7 was a “cop bar,” so she’d expected it to be some dive. But it was actually nice inside, with a long oak bar and tables off to the side. The lighting was generally dim, like it often was in bars, but even that didn’t seem as harsh as it was in ones she’d been in before.

  Jeanie was secretly thrilled when Donovan took her hand to lead her over to his friends, who were already stationed at one of the tables in the center of the room. He introduced her to them, and they all seemed nice enough.

  There was Gregory Mires, who looked like the classic cop type, with short dark hair in a marine-style cut and brown eyes. He smiled at her as she shook his hand; his shake too was warm like his smile. Next was John Mallory, who looked like an all-star linebacker, with blond hair and blue eyes and a very stout frame. Jeanie could see that his size was due in no way to fat, however; he looked like a little powerhouse, standing only a couple of inches taller than her. Next was David Jones, whose Latino looks belied his last name. He looked Jeanie up and down, and then held her hand a little bit too long when he shook it. Jeanie decided right away that she didn’t like him. There were a couple of other people there, but Donovan told her they were friends of friends and he couldn’t introduce her because he didn’t know them. The rest of the people in the party introduced themselves and then they all sat down.

  David Jones leaned over to ask if Jeanie was Donovan’s date, and she said they were just friends. David’s response was a quiet “good” in her ear. She looked back at him to see if he was joking, but he didn’t look like he was. She made a point of sitting next to Donovan to hopefully stave off any passes by David. Donovan asked her what she wanted to drink and headed to the bar. Jeanie watched him go, wanting to follow him.

  “Don’t worry,” said Gregory, one of Donovan’s oldest friends, moving to sit next to her. “I’ll keep an eye on you till he gets back.”

  Jeanie looked over at him, expecting to see the same kind of leering look she’d seen in David’s eyes, but she was happily surprised that he was smiling a genuine smile. She smiled in return. When Donovan returned, Gregory moved to let his friend sit next to her. Donovan handed her a glass of wine, then sat down with a shot and a bottle of Rolling Rock. He looked at his friends and said, with a sly grin, “So what are we here for again?”

  Gregory laughed. “Oh, shut the hell up!”

  “Yeah, rub our noses in it, Curtis. Go ahead,” John Mallory said.

  “Yeah, shut the hell up and drink!” Jones put in, narrowing his eyes but grinning all the while.

  Donovan laughed, shrugging. “Can I help it if I made sergeant first?”

  “Shut up, Curtis, and drink!” the other three men said, everyone laughing now.

  Donovan nodded and downed the shot, then the others drank as well. Jeanie watched in fascination. This was obviously something they did often. She sipped at her wine and was surprised at the taste. She looked over at Donovan and saw that he was watching her.

  “Is that okay?” he asked. “You just said wine…”

  “It’s great,” she said, smiling. “Thanks. What is it you just drank?” She’d noticed that the liquid in the shot glass was a caramel color.

  “This?” he said, picking up the glass. “This is called Stars at Night. It’s a combination of Goldschläger and Jägermeister.”

  Jeanie stared at him blankly. “And what does that taste like?”

  He grinned. “You want to try one?”

  “No.” She shook her head, smiling widely. “I just wanted to know what it tasted like.”

  Donovan looked at her for a long moment, and she could see he was debating something. Finally, he stopped a waitress walking by and ordered one.

  “I said I didn’t want one,” Jeanie said, giving him a mockingly reproachful look.

  “So I’ll drink it, but you can taste it first,” Donovan said, giving her a reproachful look of his own. He leaned down close to her, his lips next to her ear. “I’m not trying to get you drunk, okay?”

  Jeanie couldn’t tamp down on the shiver that went through her at the sound of his voice that close to her. She looked at him as he moved to sit back, and all she could manage was a nod. When the shot arrived a few minutes later, he paid the waitress and handed her the drink.

  “Try it,” he said, watching her. She sipped it and was surprised that she liked it. It tasted like the candy Red Hots she’d always liked as a kid.

  “It’s good,” she said, handing him the glass.

  “You sure you don’t want it?” Donovan saw the look of adventure sparkle in her eyes even as he asked.

  Jeanie considered the question for a minute. “I shouldn’t…”

  Again Donovan leaned down to her ear. “Are you worried about getting buzzed around people from work?”

  “No, just around men in general,” she replied without thinking. Then she realized how it must have sounded when he looked down at her, surprised. “I mean…” she stammered, trying to think of an easy way to explain, but Donovan nodded.

  “Do you trust me?” he asked.

  “Yes,” she said, without hesitation.

  “Okay.” Donovan looked pleased with her answer. “I promise you, I will make sure you are well protected, and that you get home safe and sound even if you have a little too much to drink.”

  Jeanie looked back at him, and he moved to look down at her. Her eyes met his in an almost probing way, as if she were searching for any sign of deception. Finally she nodded and, taking a deep breath, drank the shot down. Donovan blinked in surprise that she’d actually drunk the whole thing in one. Jeanie gave him a rakish grin, then started to cough as the alcohol actually hit her stomach. Donovan laughed, as did the rest of the table.

  Things after that were rowdy, and Jeanie was having a good time up until she noticed that David was getting overly touchy. It started with him putting his arm around her shoulder to talk to her. Then his hands seemed to be on her constantly. At one point Donovan had gone off to talk to someone that had come into the bar who he hadn’t seen in a while. Jeanie turned to David and told him to stop, hoping he’d get the message without her having to spell it out to him. He didn’t. Donovan hadn’t noticed all the touching going on because he had been talking with Gregory, and David seemed to be careful not to touch her when Donovan was paying attention. Jeanie wasn’t sure what to do. At one point she really just wanted to leave, but she was there without her car and she felt helpless.

  Donovan was on his way back to the table when he caught a glimpse of David’s hand on Jeanie’s leg and her subsequent movement to get away from him. She stood up as if to go to the bathroom, and David stood too. Donovan saw David lean over and say something to her, and Jeanie shook her head and started to walk away. Donovan was stunned when he saw his high school chum reach out and grab her rear end. His anger brought him face to face with David in a fraction of a second. Jeanie stood just behind Donovan, watching in shock as he snatched David up by a handful of his shirt.

  “What the hell are you doin’?” Donovan grated angrily.

  David stared back at Donovan wide-eyed for a moment, then he started to grin. He was very clearly drunk. “I was jus’ bein’ friendly, Pony,” he slurred.

  Donovan narrowed his eyes at him, then shook his head. “You touch her like that again, and you’ll be gettin’ friendly with the floor.” His tone was pure ice, his teal eyes blazing at the other man.

  “Hey!” David said, finally regaining some of his wits and starting to realize that he was being berated by one of his best friends.
He struggled against Donovan’s hold on his shirt, managing to wrench himself free, then with both hands attempted to shove Donovan away. Donovan took one step back, his eyes firmly on his friend.

  “Don’t fuckin’ try an’ tell me who I can and can’t lay my hands on. You ain’t the boss here, Curtis!” David’s tone was derogatory, his hands working at his sides.

  “You’re right, Dave, I’m not the boss,” Donovan said, his voice not giving an inch. “But she’s here with me, and that makes her my responsibility. And I’m tellin’ you, you touch her again and I’ll deck ya.”

  “So she is your piece,” David said lewdly. “I asked her, but she said you two were jus’ friends. Maybe she just wanted to score both of us, Pony. She’s playin’ you. That’s how these cop groupie sluts are, man…” He trailed off suggestively.

  Donovan had heard enough. He knocked David off his feet with one well-placed punch. With that he turned to Gregory, who had watched with an open mouth, like the rest of the group. “I’m sorry, man,” was all Donovan said, and with that he took Jeanie’s hand and led her outside.

  Once in the car, Donovan started the engine with a roar and screeched out of the parking space. He didn’t speak for a long time, his jaw set in an angry line. All Jeanie could think of was that she’d just ruined a friendship, all because she didn’t like men touching her. She felt stupid and young and lost all at the same time.

  “Donovan, I am so sorry,” she said, her tone bereft.

  He looked over at her sharply, then started to shake his head. “What are you talking about? Why are you sorry?”

  “Donovan,” she began, her voice indicating her disbelief that he didn’t understand. “You just slugged one of your oldest friends because of me. Why else?”

  “Yeah, and that old friend of mine was pawing you like a stray dog. It’s me that’s sorry.” He shook his head. “He knows better than to act like that around me.”

  Jeanie was quiet for a long moment as she watched him. “I just… I’m sorry that I didn’t handle it myself. I didn’t want to offend him. I mean, he is your friend, and it was your thing and all…”

  “Jay,” Donovan said, shaking his head again. “You were with me, and I promised you I’d keep you safe and sound, and I didn’t. I just didn’t see it going on—I guess I was too involved in talking to everyone…”

  Jeanie was surprised by his self-deprecation. “Donovan, you were great. I mean, hell, you just did that knight on a white horse saves the damsel in distress thing… What more do you think you could have done?”

  “Kept it from happening in the first place.”

  Jeanie grinned. “Right, and you’re omnipresent now too?”

  “No, but you were there with me, and I didn’t take care of you,” Donovan said possessively. Jeanie heard the tone and felt warmed by it.

  “You did take care of me, and you were great, okay?” she said, putting her hand over his on the stick shift. Donovan glanced down at her hand, and a smile tugged at his lips as he nodded. They pulled onto the freeway then, heading back toward his house.

  “You win,” he said finally. “But you have to let me make it up to you anyhow.”

  “It’s not necessary,” she said as she started to move her hand. Donovan took it in his as he looked over at her.

  “It is necessary, and you’re gonna let me do it, aren’t you?” he said, his tone brooking no argument.

  Jeanie laughed, and just then his cell phone started to ring.

  Donovan reached over and hit the hands-free, still holding her hand. “Hello?”

  “Pony?” Gregory said, yelling over the din in the bar. “Hey, man, you okay to be drivin’?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine,” Donovan said, grinning at the phone. “I only had a couple of beers and a shot, no big deal.”

  “Yeah, okay, I just wanted to make sure. I mean, I didn’t want you leavin’ here drunk and pissed off as all get out. And then we end up wiping your sorry ass off the road somewhere. Ya know?”

  Donovan smiled. “Your heartfelt concern is touching, Greg, really.”

  “Yeah, I know. So, what is going on with you and the beautiful girl?”

  Donovan glanced over at Jeanie, who discreetly pretended to be looking out the window with interest, a grin on her face. “Why do you ask?” Donovan replied sheepishly.

  “Well, I figure it’s something major, considering…”

  “Considering what?” Donovan’s tone belied the embarrassment he felt at the direction of the conversation.

  “Well, considering that David is out cold, and I haven’t seen you hit that hard in a damn long time.”

  Donovan started to laugh at the tone in his friend’s voice and the horrified look that Jeanie gave him. “Look, Greg, man, I gotta go,” he said when he recovered his composure.

  “Alright, later,” Gregory said, his tone indicating he knew he had just tipped his friend’s hand, so to speak.

  After he hung up, Donovan looked over at Jeanie again. “Don’t worry about it, I’m sure David is fine. Hell, he probably passed out more than anything else.”

  “Uh-huh,” Jeanie said uncertainly. “So you’ve hit him before?” She’d noted that Gregory hadn’t seemed too taken aback that Donovan had hit their friend, only that he’d hit him hard.

  Donovan shrugged. “We fight all the time, the four of us.”

  “Over women?”

  “Sometimes. Other times about other stuff. It’s not really a big deal.”

  “Yeah, I know, you do it all the time,” Jeanie said caustically.

  “Stop it,” Donovan said with a grin. “Now, when are you going to let me make this up to you? And don’t tell me it’s not necessary, we already covered that.”

  Jeanie gave him a measuring look. “Well, I guess that depends on what you’re planning to do to make it up to me…”

  Donovan glanced over at her, surprised. Jeanie started to laugh. “I meant like dinner, movie, flowers… What?”

  Donovan shook his head, as if trying to lose the thoughts he’d had. “Well, I meant like dinner, at least.”

  “Okay…” Jeanie said. “How about this, then. I have the sneaking suspicion that you cook, am I right?”

  Donovan gave her a sidelong glance, as if trying to decide how much to tell her. “Yes, you’re right—I cook. A man has to eat, you know.”

  “Yes, but your kitchen doesn’t look like the kitchen of a man who eats just anything that comes by.”

  Donovan’s look was narrow this time, but his grin gave him away. “Checkin’ me out, were ya?”

  Jeanie grinned sheepishly. “Yeah, kinda.”

  He smiled. “Maybe you’ll make a good detective someday… Okay, so you caught me. I can cook, fairly well, I guess. Why?”

  “How about you cook dinner for me, and then we’re even,” Jeanie said, feeling bold suddenly.

  “How ’bout tomorrow night?”

  “You have yourself a date, Sergeant.”

  Chapter 3

  The next night couldn’t come fast enough for Jeanie. She spent the day checking the clock. They’d decided she should be there about seven o’clock. Time seemed to be dragging its feet mercilessly.

  Donovan, on the other hand, spent the day on a callout. There had been a major raid on a case he had assisted on, and Joe had called him to ask if he wanted in on it. Donovan had accepted happily. The raid had gone well, but there had been a great deal of evidence to catalog. He spent the day in a strange house, sifting through piles of belongings, extracting illegal paraphernalia from everyday items. On the way home he stopped at the store to buy what he needed for dinner. He got home an hour and a half before she was to be there. He rushed to take a shower and start dinner.

  When Jeanie knocked on the door, she was surprised at his appearance when he answered. He was wearing black cotton slacks and black suede Oxfords, but the teal shirt he wore hung open and his hair still looked damp. He grinned sheepishly at her, shrugging. “Sorry, I got hung up at a raid that took
all day long.”

  “No problem,” Jeanie replied, trying not to stare at his chest even as he reached up to button his shirt and tuck it in. She liked how he was dressed, the color of his shirt matching his eyes perfectly; it was very distracting. She followed him down the hallway and into the kitchen. He reached over and pulled out a crystal glass, poured wine and handed it to her.

  “Dinner’s almost ready,” he said, taking a drink from his own glass.

  “It smells great,” she said, sitting on the low island between his kitchen and dining room.

  He glanced over at her and grinned, happy that she seemed comfortable with him. He made a face. “Well, we’ll just see about that.”

  Jeanie tasted the wine; as usual, he had picked a great one. “How do you do that?” she said, shaking her head at him.

  “What?” he asked, looking up from the stove. “Oh, the wine?” He smiled. “Practice.”

  When they sat down to dinner, Jeanie noticed that he had all the polite gentlemanly things down. He held her chair for her and served her. Then she tasted the pepper steak he’d made, and she was sure she’d died and gone to heaven.

  “Donovan, this is fantastic,” she said, astounded. “I figured you could cook, but… wow…”

  Donovan grinned. “Well, I do have a little confession to make.”

  “What?”

  “I did go to a culinary academy for about a year and a half, before I quit to go into regular college and become a cop.”

  “Really?” Jeanie asked, ever surprised by this man. “How much farther did you have to go to finish the academy?”

  “About a semester or two.”

  “And how long was a semester there?” She assumed it must be different from academic college.

  “Like a regular college, about four to eight months…”

  Jeanie stared at him in shock. “Are you nuts? Why didn’t you finish?”

  Donovan looked pensive, then shrugged. “I guess I just decided I wanted to do police work instead.”