For all Intents and Purposes (MidKnight Blue Book 6)

by Sherryl Hancock

  Donovan was silent in the face of Joe’s wrath, his eyes trained on the floor. He had no response to what Joe was saying. He hadn’t been thinking like a cop when he hit David Jones; he’d been thinking like a boyfriend defending his territory. Bad move.

  Joe paced behind his desk, feeling the need to walk off some of his anger, his light blue eyes blazing. He looked over at his brother-in-law again, shaking his head. “You gotta be better, Donovan. Better, smarter, stronger, faster, and most of all more professional, because you’re related to me and because you’re friends with Midnight. You can’t give them a reason to ruin us all. We can’t have this crap, not from you. Do you get me?”

  Donovan didn’t trust his voice to speak, so he nodded, all the while feeling like hell.

  Jeanie knew something was up with Donovan the minute she saw him later than morning. She had to wait until lunch to speak to him about it. When they walked to his car, she could tell he was mad. She waited until they got in to try and ask him, but Donovan immediately cranked the stereo and drove like he was in a pursuit, opting for a restaurant as far from the department as he could get. He played Rick Springfield’s greatest hits album, his propensity for ’80s music coming through. He cranked the song “Rock of Life,” singing the words and drumming his fingers on the steering wheel, a miserable look on his face. Jeanie listened, wondering how the lyrics related to what was going on.

  When the song ended, she reached over to turn the radio down. She was beginning to get worried. In the months they’d been together, she’d found that Donovan was usually pretty open. There were a couple of subjects he was closemouthed about, one of which was his parents, but she was sure this didn’t have anything to do with them.

  “Donovan, tell me what’s wrong, please,” she said finally, seeing that he wasn’t going to be forthcoming.

  “What’s to tell?” he said, shaking his head ruefully. “I fucked up and now I’m gonna have to pay for it.”

  “Fucked up how?” Jeanie considered him a pretty good cop, and not just because she was going out with him.

  “That night at 10-7 when I punched David out,” he said, looking over at her, his face drawn and angry. She nodded. “Yeah, well, I forgot to consider the fact that David’s a cop too, and that there might be repercussions to punching out a fellow officer.”

  “What kind of repercussions?” Jeanie asked, realizing she hadn’t thought of it that way either.

  Donovan shrugged, shaking his head angrily. “Oh, just little ones like losing my career, that’s all.” The look on his face belied his casual tone.

  “They wouldn’t do that!” Jeanie said, aghast.

  Donovan looked over at her, giving her a rueful grin and shaking his head. “They won’t have a choice if David decides to file a complaint,” he said, aware she had been referring to Joe and Midnight.

  “But…” Jeanie said, trailing off as Donovan shook his head again.

  “It’s my fault, Jay. I didn’t think. I reacted like I would have when we were all teenagers. It never occurred to me that other cops would see it as an attack on another officer.” He stopped at a light then and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands “I am so goddamned dumb sometimes!”

  “Donovan, I’m sorry.” Jeanie reached over to pull his hands away from his face, her expression devastated.

  Donovan looked over at her and shook his head. “Jay, I’m not. I mean, I’m not sorry I hit the guy. I’m just sorry I didn’t drag his ass out back and do it where no one would have seen it. I still feel fully justified in hitting him, I just should’ve been smarter about it.”

  Jeanie grinned. “Kicked his butt at recess, huh?”

  “Yeah, or waited for him at the bus stop after school,” Donovan said, the beginnings of a smile on his face. “Will you still go out with me if I’m unemployed?”

  “Stop it, you’re not going to get fired. David won’t actually file on you, will he?” She’d realized she didn’t know.

  Donovan shrugged. “Who knows.” Then he looked chagrined. “Joe says I dislocated his jaw.”

  “Yikes!” Jeanie said, her grin impish. “Betcha that made it a lot harder to talk his trash then, didn’t it?”

  Donovan gave her lopsided grin, then put the car into gear and drove to the restaurant. Lunch was a little easier to eat after that. Jeanie made a point of keeping his mind off the trouble. She told him stories about her brothers, how they’d gotten into law enforcement. Donovan went back to the office feeling a bit better, but the thought of losing his job weighed heavily on his mind. He was reeling at the thought that one stupid mistake could ruin all he’d been working toward for almost seven years. He wondered idly if he should have finished his culinary class; maybe then he’d have a job to fall back on.

  Chapter 5

  Midnight Chevalier waited at the end of the gangway. She felt foolish; she wasn’t even sure who to look for. All Joe had told her was that according to Robert, his cousin was a dark version of him. She remembered the late-night phone call from her partner of thirteen years. She and Rick had been fast asleep when the phone rang.

  “Tell Joe it’s too damn late to be callin’,” Rick had said as she reached for the phone. He had promptly snuggled up to her back and gone back to sleep, used to late-night calls from his best friend. They were rarely for him.

  Midnight had answered the phone, and Joe had sheepishly told her that he had a raid scheduled for the morning and that Christian was due in shortly thereafter. And could she please do him a huge favor and pick him up. Midnight had grinned in the darkness, knowing her partner well, and also knowing that it had probably been Joe’s wife who had reminded him about over-scheduling himself. She was right; Randy had been the one to remind Joe that Christian was due in at 8:00 a.m. the next day. Randy had a final that morning and was therefore unavailable to pick Joe’s cousin up, so the next likely candidate had been Midnight.

  Now, standing in the terminal, Midnight looked out at the cold November morning. Great day to travel, was all she could think. Midnight caught the attention of many of the men in the airport. She was dressed casually, wearing her old uniform of jeans, boots, and a hunter green Oxford, as well as her leather FORS jacket. Even as the Chief of Police she insisted on keeping a hand in on the action. She was scheduled to go on a raid with one of her former members of FORS, Tiny Ako—now a sergeant with the homicide unit—later that afternoon. Her mane of copper-blond hair was still worn long; Rick wouldn’t allow her to cut it. She still looked every bit the beautiful, fiery leader of one of the most effective gang task forces in the country. She began pacing when the passengers from the British Airways flight started to trickle through. Midnight was just beginning to wonder if she had indeed missed Christian when a black-haired version of Joe walked up the gangway. He looked straight at her, and Midnight knew instantly that this was Joe’s cousin. She walked up to him, smiling.

  “Christian Collins?” she said, her tone friendly.

  “If I wasn’t, I am now. And it’s Blue, not Christian,” he replied, his face lit with a very intense smile.

  “Okay… Well, I’m Midnight Chevalier. I’m your cousin’s partner,” she said, thinking Christian was probably pretty devastating to most women. And Robert had been right; he was definitely a dark version of Joe.

  “Partner?” Christian said as she began to lead the way down to baggage claim.

  “Yes, thirteen years now,” Midnight said, glancing over her shoulder; Christian had fallen in behind and to the left of her. She wondered if he was used to doing some sort of protection work, since the habit was standard for cops and bodyguards, and she knew he wasn’t a cop.

  “So you’re a cop?” Christian asked disbelievingly.

  “That’s right, for sixteen years now.” Midnight grinned as they reached the baggage area. She turned, and was surprised to find him standing very close. She looked up at him, her cat-like eyes narrowing slightly. Christian made no move to step back; he simply stared down into her eyes. Midnight
figured any other woman would probably have dropped dead at that moment, but she simply continued to look at him, everything about her saying she was far from any other woman. Christian was taken aback by her reaction—she didn’t react. For a woman, this was a first. He finally dropped his eyes, his lips twisting into a wry grin as he nodded and stepped back.

  Midnight was surprised to find that he only had two pieces of luggage.

  “They’re shipping my other stuff,” Christian said by way of explanation when she gave him a pointed look.

  A few minutes later Midnight led him to the classic Corvette she still drove. She’d had a new engine put into it in the last couple of years and had some electrical work done, but she still loved it. Rick was after her constantly to buy a new one, or at least get a more updated version, but Midnight refused staunchly. Christian ran an approving hand over the rear fender as she opened the trunk.

  “Sixty-three?” he asked, his eyes running along the body of the car.

  “Yep,” Midnight said proudly.

  “Fantastic,” he said, awe in his voice.

  “I think so.” She unlocked his door for him and moved around to the driver’s side. Christian got in, looking around and nodding appreciatively. The interior was completely original.

  Midnight pushed a CD into the player Rick had had installed for her the year before for her birthday. The Spice Girls’ first album, Spice, started; the first track was “Wannabe,” and Christian couldn’t help but grin. Midnight knew every word and sang them with her usual enthusiasm. Christian found himself watching her in fascination. It had been many years since a woman had actually captured his attention. This woman not only captured it but was holding it for ransom. The moment he had seen her in the airport he had been very attracted to her. He’d had no idea who she was, but had made eye contact as soon as possible. It had been a major plus to find out she was there to pick him up; he’d been expecting his cousin. At the baggage claim, he’d been attempting to make her react, and she’d shut him right down. That had secured his interest for a while. He did notice the ring on her left hand, but he’d been with enough married women to know that didn’t always matter.

  “And you’re really a cop?” he said after the first track had ended and Midnight turned the radio down a little. He was watching every move she made.

  “Yes, I really am.” She raised an eyebrow. “You wanna see my badge?”

  “Pass,” he said coolly, holding her gaze.

  “My gun then?” she asked with a wry look.

  “Only if you have to take something off to show me.”

  Midnight surprised him by laughing. It wasn’t a coy come-hither laugh; it was a disbelieving one. She shook her head in answer, and was still grinning to herself when her cell phone rang. She reached over, touching the hands-free button.

  “Yes?”

  “And just where the hell did you creep off to this morning?” Rick’s voice came through the speaker, his tone warm and languid. Midnight could almost see him sitting in their kitchen with his feet up on a chair, elbow on the table, phone in hand. She smiled.

  “I had something to do for Joe.”

  “Uh-huh. That have anything to do with that phone call last night?”

  “It had everything to do with that call, yes.” Midnight looked over at Christian to find that he was watching her. She met his eyes, directly without it being a come-on in the least.

  “Okay…” Rick said, and Midnight could almost feel his shift in modes. She pursed her lips, closing her eyes slowly. She knew what was coming. “And what were you wearing when you left this morning?” His even tone didn’t belie the point to the question, but Midnight recognized it and knew where he was going with it. Christian had begun to wonder if this was some sort of obscene phone call.

  Midnight looked down at her jeans, then glanced back at the phone with a lopsided grin. “How the hell do you do that?” she asked after a long pause.

  Rick laughed lightly. “Your FORS jacket is gone—you never wear that without the rest of the uniform.” Then his voice grew serious. “What’s goin’ on, Night?”

  “Oh, just the usual…” Midnight trailed off, hoping he’d drop it.

  “Don’t play games with me, Midnight,” Rick said, his tone cautionary. “You’re going on a raid, aren’t you?”

  Midnight rolled her eyes, sighing. This was not a conversation she wanted to have with him. “Yes.”

  “No,” he said, his tone still very serious.

  Christian watched in fascination, wondering how she’d react to what was obviously her husband telling her what to do.

  “Rick,” Midnight said, her voice now much more commanding. “I’m not goin’ through this with you this morning. So let’s just skip it, okay?”

  Rick was silent for a long moment. “Who’re you going out with?”

  “Tiny’s team.”

  “They’re fucking kids, Midnight! No, this ain’t goin’. You wanna go on a raid, you can wait till FORS goes out again.”

  Christian watched as Midnight’s face changed. He was willing to swear that she’d turned to stone. What he didn’t know was that her independent gang leader side was coming out now.

  “No, I’m goin’ today,” she said. “And you’re getting off this subject or we’re getting off the phone.”

  “Midnight…” Rick had recognized the tone in his wife’s voice easily; it was the digging-her-heels-in tone.

  “Richard,” Midnight replied, the slightest bit softer.

  Rick sighed, knowing he was fighting a losing battle. There were some battles with his wife he was willing to fight, and others he knew to let go. This was one of the ones destined to be set free.

  “Fine,” he said, his tone indicating that giving in to her was the last thing he wanted to do.

  Midnight smiled. Being married to Rick was a constant challenge. That was what kept their relationship alive and well. He was an even match for her, loving her on the one hand and fighting her with the other. It was definitely a stimulating relationship, and it had come nowhere near to settled over the nine years of their marriage. Their battles were just as fiery as the ones years before, but now they were secure in the knowledge that they were always going to be together. The nightmare of five years before had taught them that they belonged together; having come to within days of being legally divorced had made them realize they couldn’t live without each other. They’d accepted the volatile nature of their relationship, even determining that it was exactly what each needed in another half to continue to thrive in the marriage.

  “I’ll see you in the office later, okay?” she said, her voice warm again.

  “Do you have a choice?” Rick still sounded stubborn, but Midnight could sense the slow grin starting on his face.

  “Not likely,” she replied, grinning as well.

  “Not likely,” Rick repeated, smiling now.

  They hung up, and Christian found that his interest in Midnight had just been increased rather than discouraged. He had seen a great deal of fire in her eyes during the short argument, and he liked it. Midnight glanced over at him, rolling her eyes.

  “Sorry you had to hear all that. My husband is a bit protective,” she said, saying the last word as if it were an expletive.

  “If you were mine, I would be too,” Christian said directly.

  “Yes, well,” Midnight said equally directly, “I’m his.”

  “For how long?”

  “Nine years now.”

  Christian narrowed his eyes, as if looking at her for the first time. “That’s where I’ve seen you before. You’re married to Debenshire’s son, aren’t you? Why’d you say your name was Chevalier?”

  Midnight glanced over at him, surprised. “Yes, I am married to Robert’s son. Chevalier’s my maiden name—I use it out of habit. But… where’ve you seen me before?”

  Christian nodded. “I saw your wedding pictures.”

  “Where?”

  “In the London society pages,
when I was fifteen. My mum was showing me Joe’s wedding, and you were married in the same ceremony. I saw the photos. I thought you were beautiful then, but those pictures didn’t do you justice.”

  Midnight looked back at him, her eyes narrowed slightly, a look she used when she was trying to figure someone out.

  “Why did your mother care about Joe’s wedding?” she asked. “I mean, I know that Joe’s uncle is your father, but…”

  “My mum adored Joe’s father. I guess he was really great to her when my bastard of a father fired her. And because Joe was his father’s son, she followed what he did, especially after his parents were killed.” Christian’s voice was lowered on the last, as if he were remembering.

  “You were pretty young when his parents were killed. What, about three, right?” she asked, trying to assimilate what she knew about him with her partner’s past.

  “Yeah, but my mum told me all the stories. She told me about Scotland Yard investigating him and everything, and how he moved to America and became a police officer and all that…”

  Christian trailed off, realizing he was talking a lot more than he was comfortable with. But she had that kind of effect on him. He was shocked to realize that he had probably told her more about himself in the last five minutes than he’d told Geneva in six months. Odd, that, he thought.

  “And now you’re here. It’s gotta be kind of weird for you, coming here to live with a cousin you’ve never met,” Midnight said inquisitively.

  Christian looked over at her, wondering why she would care, but found himself answering her nonetheless. “I adjust quickly, always have.”

  Midnight gave him a measured glance. “Survival instinct?”

  Christian nodded, a hint of surprise showing in his eyes. He was wondering what she knew about survival instincts.

  Midnight’s phone rang again, and she made an impatient sound as she hit the hands-free button. “Yeah?” she said, sounding a little irritated this time.

  “Good morning to you too,” replied an English-accented voice. Christian wondered mildly if half the damn country had come to San Diego. His curiosity was satisfied a moment later.