For all Intents and Purposes (MidKnight Blue Book 6)

by Sherryl Hancock

  Joe nodded, rolling his eyes. “Did Rick tell you what he told me?” Midnight shook her head. “He said that Warren was from a ‘good family.’” Joe’s tone indicated what he thought of that.

  “I’m not surprised. He’s been getting real protective of the young women in his life lately. It’s all these guys that are hanging around Keyla right now that’s doin’ it.”

  “Yeah, well that doesn’t mean Susan should marry some drip. She’s gotta live with the guy. Have you seen them together? The guy’s about as demonstrative as a radish, and has the personality to match.”

  Midnight laughed at Joe’s description, but nodded all the same. “Hey, who knows, maybe Susan likes radishes…”

  “I’ll buy her a salad,” Joe said seriously, but his eyes glittered humorously.

  Midnight shook her head, grinning. “If she thinks she wants to marry the guy, what can we do? It’s her life, her decision.”

  “Yeah, yeah, women’s lib and all that crap. I’ve heard it all before,” Joe said, waving his hand disdainfully.

  Christian, who had been listening in, laughed.

  Midnight looked over at him. “Is that another country heard from over there?”

  Christian grinned, shaking his head, indicating he was not entering into this discussion.

  Midnight turned back to Joe, her face taking on a more serious expression. “So did you have that meeting with Jones yet?”

  “No, I’m on my way now, boss,” he said, returning her grin, but with a pointed look.

  “So why are you still here?” she said jokingly.

  “I’m not,” Joe said, and turned and walked out of the office. Midnight’s laughter followed him.

  Chapter 6

  Donovan was called into Midnight’s office later that day. Walking in, he felt his stomach tighten; this was the last place he wanted to be. Steeling himself, he knocked on her inner door.

  “Come,” Midnight called.

  He went in. “You wanted to see me, Chief?” he said, ever respectful.

  Midnight looked up and smiled. “Yes, Donovan, come on in.” She looked over at Christian. “Christian, could you excuse us for a few minutes, please?”

  Christian looked surprised for a moment, then nodded. He had been surprised that she had asked him, rather than telling him to get out. It was refreshing to be treated with respect instead of disdain or tolerance. He left the room, closing the door quietly behind him.

  “Have a seat, Donovan,” Midnight said, gesturing to a chair as she moved to sit behind her desk. She could easily see that the situation was wearing on him. “How much sleep have you had in the last few days?”

  “Oh… some,” Donovan said vaguely.

  “Not enough, I’ll bet.”

  Donovan looked back at her seriously. “If your career was on the line, would you be able to sleep?”

  Midnight knew he was right. “Well, thankfully that is no longer an issue. Jones doesn’t want to file a complaint.” The relief that flooded Donovan’s face was almost painful to witness. “But next time you decide to be gallant, try to be a little less public about it, okay?”

  A lopsided grin tugged at Donovan’s lips. Her statement told him that while she thought what he had done was wrong, it was also admirable. Midnight knew full well where Donovan had come by his chivalrous ways. He’d been hanging out with one Joseph Michael Sinclair too long. It had been difficult for Midnight to find fault with what Donovan had done after Jeanie told her the whole story, but it had been her responsibility to respond officially. She was very happy, therefore, to be able to “officially” let him off the hook.

  “Now, the next thing I called you in here for is that I need a favor,” Midnight said.

  Donovan nodded. “Okay.”

  “I need you to take Christian over to the warehouse so he can see the inventory logs there.”

  Donovan looked back at her for a long moment, then nodded slowly. Midnight could see a question in his eyes, but she liked the fact that he seemed willing to do whatever she asked. It was the loyalty that she needed from him at the moment.

  “He’s going to work on a new inventory system for me, and I want him to have an idea of how things have been tracked in the past,” she explained.

  “A new system?” Donovan asked, surprised.

  “Yeah, I’ve been thinking about it for a long time now, and then come to find out that Joe’s cousin happens to be a computer whiz—it seemed a perfect opportunity.”

  Again Donovan nodded, his faith in Midnight’s judgement as set in stone as that of any veteran member of FORS. “When do you want me to take him?”

  “Now, if you have time.”

  “You got it boss.” Donovan stood to leave.

  Midnight walked around her desk, reaching up to hug him. “I’m glad everything worked out.”

  Donovan hugged her tightly. “That makes two of us,” he said, his grin wide.

  When they parted, Donovan looked down at the petite woman he respected more than anyone in the world. “Thanks, Midnight.”

  “What for?” Midnight asked, her voice reflecting surprise. “We were busting your butt, Donovan, just like we would have on anyone else.”

  “I know, but I also know that neither you nor Joe liked it much. I’m just really sorry I put you two in that kind of position, ya know?”

  “Hey, I know where you got that damn valiant streak from. I’ve had to deal with that for fifteen years—you think I’d be used to it by now.”

  Donovan smiled.

  Ten minutes later, Donovan led Christian to his Mustang, parked in the department lot. Once in the car, Donovan flipped through radio stations and finally pushed in a CD. Skipping through the tracks, he settled on one and turned the volume up. The eerie keyboard and guitar intro to The Cars’ “Moving In Stereo” came through the speakers, filling the car. The electric drum and keyboard kicked in as Donovan accelerated out of the parking lot and down the street, exercising the high-performance engine. He couldn’t get over how relieved he was at having been cleared of the incident in the bar; he was ecstatic. His fingers drummed on the steering wheel as the song played on and he sang to the words. Christian observed, his light blue eyes taking in the expensive leather interior of the car, and wondered idly if Joe had bought it for “Randy’s brother.”

  After the song ended, Donovan lowered the volume and glanced over at Christian apologetically. “Sorry, I just had a need to do that. Blowin’ off some steam, ya know?”

  Christian nodded, narrowing his eyes slightly. “So you’re clear, then?”

  Donovan looked surprised for a moment, but then realized Christian had probably heard Joe and his sister discussing the matter. “Yeah,” he said simply.

  “So was it over a broad?” Christian said derogatorily as he watched Donovan for a reaction. He got one.

  The muscles in Donovan’s jaw tightened and his eyes narrowed as he stared straight ahead. “The broad is my girlfriend,” he said, his tone indicating that Christian was out of line. But Christian knew that.

  The Englishman shook his head disdainfully. “Ain’t found a woman yet worth fighting over.”

  “Well, I have,” Donovan said, his anger under control now.

  “She good-lookin’?” Christian asked with a leer.

  “Incredibly,” Donovan said, refusing to rise to the bait again.

  “She good in bed?” Christian asked then, knowing he was pushing it.

  Donovan looked over at the other man, his eyes narrowed. “That’s none of your fucking business.”

  “Careful,” Christian said, his eyes twinkling with barely suppressed delight. “You just got out of a jam. I don’t think even your sister could get you out of another one right now.”

  Donovan looked back at Joe’s cousin, his mouth open in appalled anger. He wasn’t even able to come up with a retort that would fit. Finally he shook his head, looking back at the road. Christian laughed lightly to himself, shaking his own head. Americans were even easie
r than the English, he thought wryly.

  They were silent for the rest of the drive to the warehouse. Once there, Donovan showed Christian the records and stood by as the Englishman looked at them.

  “Archaic,” Christian muttered to himself as he leafed through the written documents. He shook his head. “Too fucking easy to cheat.”

  “That’s what’s been happening,” Donovan said.

  “Ya got rats, eh?”

  Donovan nodded. “Lots of ’em.”

  “And that’s what you’re working with Midnight on?”

  “Yep. Gotta clean house, and right now she’s only trusting family to do that,” Donovan said, aware he was now including Christian in that.

  Christian didn’t miss the comment, and he was again taken aback by it. Here he had purposely baited the guy a half hour before, pissing him off no end, and yet even Donovan considered him “family.” It irritated him more than he could say that it made him feel good. The last thing he needed to do was go soft. Instead of replying to Donovan’s statement he simply nodded.

  On the way back to the office, Donovan’s car phone rang. He hit the hands-free button.

  “’Lo?”

  “Hey there,” Jeanie said, making Donovan smile instantly. Christian knew it had to be the “broad” they had discussed earlier.

  “Hi,” Donovan said, his voice softening just a bit.

  “I heard the good news.”

  “Yeah, I was gonna tell you when I got back. Midnight told me about an hour ago.”

  “Well, she just told me. I guess she figured she would probably get more work out of me if I wasn’t worried about the demise of your law enforcement career thanks to me.” She sounded chagrined on the last.

  “Jay, we’ve already had this discussion,” Donovan said lightly even as he rolled his eyes.

  “I know, I know. Anyway, are we having lunch today or what?” she asked, her tone changing slightly.

  Donovan picked up on it instantly. He grinned. “What did you hear?”

  “Damn it, how do you do that?”

  “Talent. You heard from them, didn’t you?”

  “Yep.” Jeanie was almost dancing. “My physical agility is next Saturday at ten. Can you be there?” she asked, her voice almost begging him.

  Donovan smiled again. “I’ll do you one better. I’ll take you over the course this weekend.”

  “You can do that?”

  “I happen to know the Chief of Police—I think I can manage it.”

  “That would be so great, Donovan. I’ll owe you so big.”

  “I’ll collect eventually,” Donovan said suggestively. “Look, I’ll be back in ten. We’ll go and celebrate.”

  “I’ll be waiting, Sergeant,” Jeanie replied, her voice low now, giving no indication of whether she meant for him to collect or for him to get back. Donovan laughed as he hung up.

  “That’s the one, huh?” Christian asked with an open look.

  Donovan nodded, his smile wide. “That’s the one.”

  Back at the office, Donovan walked in with Christian right behind him. Jeanie was sitting at her desk, but stood up when he came in. Donovan went over, pulling her into his embrace. After a few moments, she leaned back, looking up at him with a brilliant smile on her face. Christian watched the exchange and saw immediately what Donovan thought was worth fighting for. Jeanie was beautiful. Her long chestnut hair, her brown eyes, her smile—she was incredible. Christian was beginning to wonder if San Diego had any ugly women in it. And it seemed the Sinclair-Debenshire clan had the corner on the fucking market for beautiful women.

  “Jeanie,” Donovan said, finally remembering Christian standing just off to the side. “Have you met Christian?” He knew she’d been out of the office that morning and hadn’t likely met him before that.

  “Nope,” Jeanie said, glancing at Christian. She was taken aback by his looks; his coloring was so dark, and in direct contrast to his light blue eyes. He was breathtaking. “So you’re the other Sinclair,” she said, her smile friendly, but much like Midnight, it was nowhere near a come-on. She extended her hand.

  He took it in his, staring directly into her eyes as he smiled. “Actually, it’s Collins, Blue, but I’m pleased to meet you all the same.” His voice was a caress, and Jeanie didn’t miss it; neither did Donovan.

  “Jet back, man,” Donovan said, his tone light but his eyes narrowed. “She’s well and truly taken right now.”

  Christian didn’t look at him. He continued to stare into Jeanie’s eyes, the look in his own triumphant. Jeanie saw it and narrowed her eyes slightly as she grinned. She had figured out that he was trying to get to Donovan, and it had worked.

  “Well,” Christian said to her, his tone not changing, “when you get done with him, give me a call.”

  This time Donovan actually took a step toward him, an action that made Christian start to smile delightedly. Jeanie shook her head, moving to take Donovan’s arm and steer him toward the door. “Come on!” she said to her boyfriend, glancing back at Christian as they went out. Christian was still grinning as he sat on the edge of her desk, watching them go. She shook her head at him, but her grin too was intact.

  Joe showed up in Midnight’s office at four thirty, looking harried. “Christian,” he said, poking his head in the door.

  Christian looked up from the computer. “Yeah?”

  “Look, can you do me a favor? I need someone to pick Susan up from the college. I gotta go out to a raid site and I’m just not gonna make it.”

  Christian nodded. “No problem.”

  “Thanks, man. Midnight can give you directions. I gotta go. I’ll see ya at home later.”

  “You got it,” Christian said, feeling again the beginnings of the warmth he felt every time Joe treated him so familiarly, like they’d known each other for years instead of days.

  An hour later Christian pulled up to the building Midnight had told him about. He waited behind the wheel of the black Jaguar Joe was having him use until he got a car of his own, garnering a number of interested gazes from female passersby. He had the radio on, but he couldn’t find a song he liked. Finally he pushed in Matchbox 20’s Yourself or Someone Like You. The song “3AM” came on. He drummed his fingers to the music as he waited for Susan.

  Not too much later, she walked up with a man right beside her. She looked surprised to see him; they had met briefly the day before, but she certainly hadn’t expected him to be picking her up from school that day. The man with her looked at him as well. Christian read the suspicion in his eyes easily. He and Susan had a quick conversation, and then he took her into his arms, kissing her. Christian saw the look of surprise on Susan’s face and started to grin.

  When she got into the car he was still grinning, and by this time shaking his head. The man she had been with stood on the sidewalk, watching them. Christian put the car into drive and, giving him a cocksure look, drove away. He reached over to turn up the song that had just started, “Push,” and started to sing along.

  Susan was surprised to find herself watching him in fascination, further surprised that he had an extremely nice singing voice. She had reacted to Christian the day before in the way most women did—tongue-tied and nervous. Christian had run into her in the hallway of the house. She had been rushing off after one of the children, but had stood stock still in front of him, dumbfounded.

  “You must be Christian,” she had said finally, her voice coming out cracked.

  “I must be,” Christian had replied, enjoying having the advantage. His light blue eyes had stared down into hers, making her squirm noticeably.

  A moment later there had been a crash in the living room and Susan had had to rush off to find out what the children had gotten into. Christian had stared after her, grinning to himself.

  Now, she watched him sing, his head moving with the slow rhythm of the music, his light eyes watching the road ahead. The words to the song were inflammatory, to say the least, but Susan could see that Christian li
ked them, and it made her wonder who the woman he was singing about was.

  As the song ended, Christian turned the volume down. He glanced over and noted that Susan was watching him; he just gave her a knowing smile then looked away.

  After a long silence, Christian surprised her by saying, “So that was him, huh?”

  It took Susan a moment to reply. “Him, who?” she asked, looking perplexed.

  “The guy,” Christian said, his tone indicating she should know.

  “What guy?” Then understanding dawned. “Oh, you mean Warren?”

  “Yeah, Warren,” Christian said, using the man’s name as if he found it distasteful.

  “Yes, that was him. Why?”

  Christian shrugged. “Looks like a real pansy,” he said, so casually that it took Susan a moment to realize he’d just insulted her fiancée.

  “Excuse me?”

  “I said, he looks like a pansy. Hell, he looks more English than I do.”

  “Well, you hardly look English, now do you?”

  Christian grinned, aware he was irritating her. “If you wanted English, why didn’t you just go back home and buy one?”

  “Buy one?” Susan repeated, her voice reflecting her lack of understanding, but a few moments later she began to work it out. She grew angry then.

  “How dare you,” she said, her English accent sounding very high class, especially to Christian. “I will have you know that Warren and I are in love and that is why we’re getting married. As for his looking English, well that’s just icing on the cake.”

  “Not in this case, love,” Christian said derogatorily.

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  Again Christian shrugged, his expression infuriatingly serene even as his words were maddening. “You could do better.”

  “Better?”

  “Yeah, the opposite of worse.”

  “I know what it means,” Susan snapped. “Warren is from one of the best families in America. They own four large corporations with offices all over the world.”

  “So that’s what gets you off, is it?” Christian said evenly.