Her Husband’s Partner

by Jeanie London

  Jason finally clicked off the CD player after realizing he’d looped around to this same track for the third time. Or was it the fourth? He didn’t know. He only knew he felt incredible relief.

  He couldn’t think, didn’t want to move, didn’t want to do anything to disrupt this stunned sense of hope. He just needed to catch a break. One break to help him crawl out from under the mess he’d made of everything.

  Had he finally gotten it?

  Pulling off the earphones, Jason let them fall to the desk. He could only stare at the portable CD player until his brain started working enough to process more stimuli. The desk where he’d been poring over his appointment book, figuring out how to schedule necessary meetings when his life had been taken entirely out of his control.

  The moonless night, inky beyond the open plantation shutters that Callie had had installed last spring. A jaw-dropping expense, but a deal she simply couldn’t pass on with the window treatment place going out of business. She’d wanted to upgrade from the stock blinds for so long.

  The quiet that had settled over the house meant the kids were asleep. Callie would be puttering around, working on some project or another. She’d mentioned something at dinner, but he couldn’t remember what she’d said.

  Jason couldn’t focus on anything but that CD.

  He’d been expecting to hear a detailed and documented account of the “services” he’d been forced to provide Barry Mannis and his team. He’d expected to learn that the drug dealers who’d been picking up and delivering their poison at prearranged drops had known exactly who’d been providing the protection. He’d been expecting to learn that his unmarked cruiser hadn’t fooled anyone.

  Drug dealers were supposed to be afraid of the police—not looking to them for help. But that’s exactly what had been happening since Agent Asshole had sunk his claws into Jason.

  He’d been turning a blind eye to the local residences and businesses where powder cocaine was being transformed into the crack that went into the streets. He knew where the vessels and chemicals that were used to prepare the crack were being stored.

  He knew where the new cookhouse had sprung up to replace the one cleared out for a fake bust. He’d even helped equip the place with a sophisticated surveillance system so the drug dealers wouldn’t be surprised by the law. The “real” law. Not the bought-and-paid for kind he’d been providing.

  He knew Agent Asshole and his team had been abusing federal resources to run drugs and get rich, but he had no way of knowing how deep their operation went or how long they’d been operating in the area.

  But now, compliments of Riley’s CD, Jason had a better picture of what was going on.

  And it had never once occurred to him that he wasn’t the only poor Joe on Agent Asshole’s hook. The power-hungry bastard had been running his scam, getting bolder and greedier and including more people than was smart. It was only a matter of time until Mannis screwed up.

  Jason knew that from personal experience.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  RILEY DUG THROUGH the drawers of Jake’s dresser, through the stacks of neatly folded clothes. Should she pack him an extra pair of jeans? It was September, and the temperature dropped at night. Would he be inside most of the weekend or outside? She couldn’t be sure, so she grabbed a pair.

  “Are you sure you want Camille and Jake to go with Rosie and Joe this weekend?” Scott appeared in the bedroom doorway.

  “It’s probably not necessary.” She kept her voice light, didn’t want Scott to know the idea of sending the kids away was rattling her in places she hadn’t realized could still be rattled. They’d never been apart. Not since before Mike…

  “I’m a big believer in going with the flow. Rosie and Joe have an unexpected chance to see Lily Susan, and the kids haven’t seen her since we’ve come home. They’ll only be two and a half hours away at Lily Susan’s place in the city, and until we figure out what’s going on….” She shrugged, another gesture to make her appear casual. Or maybe she hoped by acting that way, she might begin to feel that way, too. “The kids don’t remember Lily Susan except from photos. And some time with Rosie and Joe will be a good thing, too. Everyone will have a chance to bond.”

  Scott eyed her with that dark gaze as if he didn’t quite believe her. Detectives. She inwardly sighed. Always looking for what was below the surface, regardless of whether or not she wanted to share. And she didn’t. She needed to figure out how she felt about the way things were changing between her and Scott. She’d never expected this. Not once.

  “Just so you understand we don’t have much to go on here,” he said. “Both attempts seemed directed at theft. Whoever wanted your equipment has it now. I don’t want you to feel pressured or scared.”

  She felt both but wouldn’t admit it. Not when Scott was being so sweet by addressing the issue, and by dropping everything to play her bodyguard. Again. She layered the new additions neatly into the duffel bag. “What time do you expect the lawn crew to be here?”

  “Soon. They’ll stay outside though. You won’t have to see them.”

  “I should thank them for all their hard work, don’t you think?”

  He looked surprised. “I don’t want you uncomfortable.”

  “Uncomfortable?” Her turn to be surprised. “Is there something about these kids you haven’t told me?”

  He frowned. “They’re from Renaissance.”

  “I know that.”

  He frowned. “Gang kids. Well, former gang kids. I hope.”

  “I know that, too.” She was surprised by Scott’s perception and his thoughtfulness.

  How had she missed so much about this man?

  He stood inside the doorway, arms folded across his chest, radiating a quiet strength that made her smile.

  “I’m okay with former gang kids, Scott. I appreciate the work they’ve been doing and would like to tell them that.”

  His eyes traveled over her, and she knew that slow, searching gaze took stock of what she wasn’t saying. “They’ll appreciate the chance to thank you, too. It’s tough for these kids to get honest work. You’re a steady gig that pays well.”

  She knew it must be hard to get a chance to make different choices with their lives. “It all worked out, then. I really hated to put any more on Brian’s shoulders.”

  Scott scoffed. “I haven’t seen him straining himself.”

  “Is that Scott the Renaissance coordinator talking or Scott the cop?”

  He gave a short laugh. “Both, I guess. He’s a good kid, don’t get me wrong, but he’s got such a sweet deal here. I don’t think he appreciates it as much as he should.”

  “Fair enough. He’s barely twenty.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  Whether or not he agreed, and she suspected he didn’t, which said something about Scott the man she didn’t know. Had he been the kind of kid who’d had to grow up fast? One with a lot of responsibility thrust upon him at an early age? As a parent she knew there was such a fine line to walk, balancing enough with too much. Had someone loved him enough to find that balance?

  Riley knew nothing about his family. Mike had always said Scott didn’t have any, but he must have some. Rosie had managed to drum up more about him than anyone, and Riley was surprised by how much she wanted to know about the events that had shaped this man before her, an honorable, dependable man, who bore the weight of her family’s trouble with such ease and concern. Adding pajamas into the duffel bag, she zipped it shut. “I’m glad you suggested the Renaissance kids.”

  “That’s generous.”

  “Not really. I have more understanding than most about why kids wind up in gangs. Because of my work and yours. I don’t blame them for their life circumstances. And I certainly don’t blame all gang kids for what happened to Mike.”

  His expression softened. He didn’t say anything, just kept watching her thoughtfully.

  “Don’t look at me like that. It’s not anything special,” she said. “Ju
st healthy. I do try, and in some ways I’m actually surprising myself.”

  “Really? How’s that?” He sounded amused.

  “The grief counselors and the other folks in the support groups all said time would make the difference. I don’t think I ever actually believed them. Now sometimes I surprise myself by how healed I am. I don’t miss Mike any less, but I don’t hurt so much. Instead of always seeing how he’s not here, I remember when he was here. I feel…well, grateful. We had so much to be thankful for. I can’t help thinking that time was so perfect because we weren’t going to get a lot of it.”

  He was silent so long that Riley wondered if she’d made him uncomfortable, and felt uncertain by this intimacy of their changing relationship. In some ways she felt so at ease around him. But in other ways…

  “May I ask you a question?”

  She was grateful for the distraction, didn’t want to overthink how much things had changed between them. “Of course.”

  “Are you glad you came home?”

  She considered that for a moment, considered him, knew she would be honest. “In some ways. I liked our life in Florida. It was all shiny and fresh. We were making new memories, and trust me when I say you can’t beat year-round sunshine and the beach. But I don’t think I would have known how much I’d healed if we’d stayed. I needed to test myself. I needed to be healthy about the situation because the kids are taking their cues from me.”

  “You’re doing a good job, Riley.”

  His comment seemed so random she could only glance up at him, found him watching her with an expression of quiet appreciation, one she found surprisingly intimate.

  One that made her notice his dark, dark hair. And how he might be almost too thin if not for those broad shoulders, those long, strong legs that left no doubt that he was an active man. Even if she hadn’t known how many team sports he was involved in through the department and Renaissance, she knew he was physical by the way he’d always helped out Mike, then Brian, with cars, tractors, trucks and the four thousand other things that could go wrong around here.

  She wasn’t sure what surprised her most—that he was even thinking about her parenting skills or that he thought she’d needed to hear that she was doing a good job. It occurred to her that it might have nothing at all to do with her and everything to do with his appreciation of family. He seemed to have fullness and balance in all the other areas of his life. Strong relationships with people he respected at the department. Through his volunteer work. On all the team sports he participated in. He was a good man. And if she hadn’t fully appreciated how good before, she’d been getting an education the past two years.

  It was such a surprising moment, one where Riley seemed to see him as she never had before, a stranger, not someone who’d been a part of her life for so long.

  Perhaps because this Scott was different.

  This Scott was a man, who’d been carving a place for himself in her life. A man, she was coming to realize, she wanted in her life.

  “May I ask you a question?” she said.

  He didn’t hesitate. “Sure, shoot.”

  “You and Mike discussed the possibility of him being hurt at work, didn’t you?” Hurt. Not dying. She couldn’t get that word out of her mouth.

  He held her gaze steadily. “Yes.”

  That one word righted their equilibrium and put Mike between them where he’d always been. And it felt so comfortable to have him there.

  But there was a part of Riley, a part that she wasn’t sure how she felt about yet, that liked this new direction her relationship with Scott was taking, that liked the man she was getting to know.

  ON A NORMAL FRIDAY, Jason would have been long gone by the time his son was heading to school, but he’d spent the night going through every file on Riley’s notebook computer. File after file after file until his eyes had crossed.

  But he hadn’t found anything to make him suspect she had a clue he’d been working with the DEA on that bogus bust, nothing to hint she had any idea what was on that CD. He’d read her every article, every shred of research, which all seemed neatly tied to her articles.

  He’d scanned photos of her kids, who were just a year younger than Kyle. Cute kids who looked more like Riley than Mike with that blond hair. They’d been pictures of the first day at school. Jason knew because he’d lived through the whole scene just a year ago himself.

  Photos and video files that Riley must have uploaded from her camcorder. He wondered if she’d deleted them from her hard drive yet. If she had then she’d lost everything because he had her camera, too. He’d stolen more than equipment; he’d stolen memories. She wouldn’t be able to replace those.

  He’d finally passed out while sitting upright at his desk, his eyes scratchy and unfocused, his thoughts tortured with questions of how he could get this equipment back to Riley without leaving a trail of breadcrumbs back to himself or Tyrese.

  Callie had found him like that, slumped, still dressed, in his office chair.

  He’d lied, of course. Told her he was bypassing the office this morning to head straight to a meeting. She’d seized the opportunity to let Jessica sleep in, taking Kyle to school while Jason was in the shower.

  That was the only reason why he was still home when the doorbell rang. He opened the door to find the FedEx guy with a package addressed to Callie.

  Jason glanced at the sender’s name then did a double take, his blood running icy through his veins.

  Chola Party Babes

  Maharaja Hotel

  Atlantic City, NJ

  Signing for the package with trembling fingers, Jason stared blankly at the courier before slamming the door in his face. Maharaja Hotel in Atlantic City was the name of the place where he’d screwed up his whole life. He didn’t need to ask who the Chola Party Babes were. Just like he didn’t need to ask who’d sent this package.

  The man who’d set him up.

  He had the envelope opened by the time he got to his office and, sure enough, there was a DVD inside a jewel case. He wondered what Callie would have thought had she opened the package. There was no accompanying documentation, nothing to give a hint what the DVD contained. Would she have popped it into the television or the computer, curious?

  Jason had the overwhelming urge to check it out for himself to see if Agent Asshole was bluffing. He didn’t. He scooped the cell phone off his desk and dialed.

  Agent Asshole answered on the second ring.

  “What in hell are you doing sending that…that garbage to my wife?”

  “I told you to keep me informed,” he replied in a cool voice.

  “And I told you I would,” Jason exploded into the phone. “I’ve been taking care of it. I haven’t informed you of anything because there’s nothing to tell you.”

  His words echoed sharply off the walls. He took a deep breath, tried to control the rush of blood behind his ears.

  “Y’know, you’re really a dumb-ass, Kenney. What part have you been taking care of? I must have missed it. Your busted attempt to get into that reporter’s house ended up with the PPD on her doorstep. Now that cop’s guarding her around the clock.”

  Jason froze where he stood, the anger draining away as fast as it had come. “You’re tailing her?”

  “I told you I didn’t want any mistakes. You’re a mistake. I’m just cleaning up your mess.”

  “Jesus, Mannis. What did you do?”

  That cool chuckle bounced over the satellite signals with the force of a comet. “That problem isn’t yours to worry about anymore, so put it out of your head. You just worry about doing what I ask you to do because the next time you might not be so lucky. Your wife might get the mail.”

  It took Jason a minute to realize the line had gone dead.

  “Daddy,” Jessica screeched so loudly that Jason jumped. He dropped the cell phone and it skittered loudly across the wood floor just as his daughter tore into the office on bare feet, her Dora the Explorer nightgown tangling around her kn
ees.

  “Daddy.” She launched herself at him with complete abandon, arms outstretched, silky dark hair flying behind her.

  She never once questioned whether or not he’d catch her. Jason hoisted her barely forty-pound body into the air, her giggles piercing his shame, anchoring him in the present.

  When she finally stopped squirming, she threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly. For one heart-stopping moment, he felt like a man worthy of so much love.

  “Good morning, my Jessie,” he whispered into her hair.

  “Morning, Daddy.” She leaned back in his arms, would have landed on her pretty head had he not held her securely. Then she planted a big kiss on his cheek.

  But Jason wasn’t worthy.

  In that instant, all the running, all the lying, all the hiding from the ugly reality of this situation reached a zenith. He’d betrayed his beautiful daughter’s trust. He’d betrayed his wife. And the men in his department. And Tyrese, who’d proven himself to be a much better man. And Riley, who wasn’t guilty of anything except running into him.

  He was toxic, poison to everyone he came in contact with, people who should have never been dragged along for this ride.

  All for a weekend of high-stakes poker and sex. No. Even worse. The gambling and the sex had merely been side effects of his ego. His greed. He’d wanted to be one of the guys with high-powered connections. He’d wanted more of that power for himself.

  How had he gotten so far away from what was important? He’d never once thought about his responsibility to the power he already held, to the people who counted on him.

  Pulling his daughter closely against him, he buried his face in her sweet-smelling hair.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  SCOTT COULD HANDLE THIS. All he needed to focus on was keeping Riley safe. Doing a job. Honoring a promise. How he felt didn’t matter. He didn’t always feel like getting out of bed to go to work. Or leaving a good basketball game at the Center to take some phone call that would send him to a crime scene where a drug deal had gone balls-up and left body parts everywhere.