by Julie Miller
After tipping his head back in a frustrated sigh, George turned the curvy blonde to face him. “We’re ancient history, Court. I will always care about you, but I am never going to be in love with you again.”
“Are you in love with her?”
Elise froze at her desk, hugging a stack of files to her chest and waiting far too expectantly for George’s answer. Did he love her? Even this morning, when they’d been so close and had shared so much, he’d never said the words.
Her heart plummeted to her stomach. He didn’t say them now.
“I can’t be at your beck and call whenever you need something, Court. I’m tired of feeling guilty about not being there for you when I was starting my career and working the streets. There’s only so much penance a man can pay.” He turned her toward the door. “Now go. Be a grown-up. You need to learn to face your problems. I’ve got my own to deal with.”
When George walked back to his office, Courtney followed. “This isn’t fair, you know. You’re an executive now. You work at a desk. You go home every night.” She pointed to Elise who quickly went back to gathering files and shutting down the computer. “She doesn’t have to worry about whether or not you’re coming home at all, the way I did. It isn’t fair.”
“I’m the same man, Courtney.” George stopped in the doorway to his office and turned, plucking his badge from his belt and holding it up. “I’m still a cop. We’ll never fit.” His gaze drifted across the room to find Elise. He repeated the same phrase, his quieter tone turning it into some kind of vow, some kind of promise, to her. “I’m a cop.”
Elise narrowed her gaze, questioning the message he was sending.
But before he explained, before she understood, he snapped his badge back into place and offered Courtney a rueful smile. “You didn’t want a cop then. And you don’t want one now. You wanted an executive. I’ve got the trappings now, but it’s not me. Underneath the suit and tie, I’m still just a cop.”
“No, you’re—” Whatever Courtney was about to say ended with a startled shriek.
The tornado sirens went off.
Chapter Ten
A clap of thunder exploded overhead, shaking the building so badly, it felt as if a bomb had gone off. It knocked over Spike’s picture on her desk and Elise gripped the back of her chair. Courtney screamed and covered her ears, collapsing into the door frame beside George. “It’s so loud. I can’t stand it when it’s so loud.”
“We need to get to the storm shelter!” George shouted above the wail of the sirens. “Emergency procedure alpha, now!”
Elise nodded. She pulled her purse from the bottom drawer of her desk and dropped Spike’s picture inside. Then she opened the center drawer to retrieve her emergency two-way radio and a bracelet full of keys she slipped onto her wrist.
George took Courtney by the shoulders and pulled her to her feet. “Take the stairs all the way to the basement, Court. The men’s and women’s locker rooms, firing range and workout facilities are down there. Someone will show you where to go. You’ll be safe.”
Courtney latched on as soon as George let go. “You’re not coming?”
He looked over Courtney’s shoulder to Elise. “You’ve got your building access keys?”
Raising her arm, Elise jangled her wrist. She looped her bag over her shoulder and picked up the phone to dial the prearranged number to Cliff Brandt at the utilities office. “Everything on our hard drives is backed up to remote servers. Do you want me to put the flash drives in my purse and take them with me?”
“Negative.” George left his ex-wife leaning against the wall and ran into his office to retrieve his own radio and a flashlight. When he came back he was tucking his cell phone into his pocket. “One of those lightning strikes must have taken out the cell tower on the roof. I’ve got no reception.”
Courtney whimpered as a flash of lightning lit up the sky and the thunder retaliated with another boom. Elise put the phone on speaker mode as the utilities director answered.
“Cliff?” George leaned over her desk to speak. “I need to know if we’ve got any blackout areas.” They both turned to the pounding of footsteps in the marble hallway. Other staff heading for shelter? George thumbed over his shoulder, urging her to join them, and returned to his call. “If there are sections of the city without televisions or working sirens, I want to dispatch units to get people to shelter immediately.”
“Sir?” Shane Wilkins appeared in the doorway from the hall, his chest heaving with deep breaths. When he spotted George and Elise, he jogged into the room. “We’ve got to get out of here. Doppler radar spotted a rotating storm cell south of here. Heading northeast. Right for the city. Spotters on the ground already reported a funnel cloud touching down on the Kansas side of the river.”
George straightened. “What the hell are you doing up here? Did Westbrook go out in this? I want to keep eyes on that guy.”
Shane turned to Elise, as if his superior officer hadn’t understood the urgency of his announcement. “Look, I ran up here to let you guys know. The elevators are shut down already. We’re right in the storm’s path. The tornado is coming here. Downtown K.C.”
“You ran up eight flights of stairs?” Elise asked, astounded by the effort he’d made to warn them.
The uniformed officer nodded. His nostrils flared as he regained control of his breathing after his wind sprint. “Cell reception is spotty. Except for Dispatch, landlines are for outgoing or station-to-station calls only during an emergency, not personal calls within the building. You guys are my responsibility. I volunteered.”
Elise smiled her thanks for his dedication to his duty and squeezed his arm. “You’re one in a million, Shane.”
George jotted down the information he needed and ended his call. He tore off the note and handed it to Elise. “Go. Get on your radio to Dispatch and tell them to send a unit to these areas. Tell them no heroics, on my command. The officers make the announcement, then get to shelter themselves. That goes for you, too.” He grabbed Elise’s hand, giving it a subtle squeeze as he pulled her toward the door and released her. She stopped. He wasn’t coming with her? No, he was looking up at the blond-haired officer. “Wilkins?”
“Sir.” Shane snapped to attention.
George poked the center of his flak vest. “No. Heroics. I’m not planning on losing any of my men today.” He held up his own radio. “You should have used one of these instead of running up here.”
“Oh. Right.” The younger man’s shoulders sagged. “I knew that. I guess I just wanted to see for myself that you all were okay.”
“You’re too young to know you’re not invincible yet.” Shaking his head, George tucked his radio onto his belt and pocketed his flashlight. “But I do need you to do something for me.”
“Sir?” Shane’s dull green eyes brightened with the chance to redeem himself in his commanding officer’s eyes.
“I want you to do a room-to-room search up here to make sure the entire floor is evacuated. Radio the guards on each level to do the same and get everyone to the basement ASAP. Including yourselves. And remember, this is no drill. Be thorough, but be fast.”
“I’m on it.” Striding past Elise, Shane turned his mouth to the radio on his shoulder, relaying George’s order.
George nearly ran into Elise when he turned back to his office. His look included both her and Courtney. “What are you two still doing here? I gave you an order.”
Her worries about departmental regulations and forbidden relationships didn’t seem important right now. She splayed her hand on the left side of his chest, seeking out the familiar, strong beat of his heart. “Why aren’t you leaving? He said the storm was heading right for us.”
George covered her hand with his, sealing this powerful connection between them. “I’m a cop, remember? And with the commissioner off the cloc
k, I’m the one in charge. I’m going to back up Shane. Make sure all the floors are clear. Time is of the essence.” Without a moment’s hesitation, he leaned in and captured her mouth in a kiss. It was sweet and urgent and perfect. He raised his lips to her forehead and kissed her again before releasing her. “Don’t worry. I’ll meet you in the basement.”
“You’d better.” She curled her fingers around his tie, holding on a moment longer. “Or else, I’ll come looking for you.”
“Always keeping me on task, aren’t you.” He smiled and gave her one more hard, quick kiss, before hurrying past her out the door. “Wilkins!” he called out. “Give me your twenty.” He disappeared to the left and was gone.
“You really do love him, don’t you?”
Elise turned to the blonde woman. Courtney was a pale shadow of her usual beauty, with her dark gaze leaping to the window at every gust of wind. But even though her observation was on target, Elise’s feelings were too fragile, maybe even too futile to admit to anyone.
“George is counting on us to do our job, Ms. Reiter, so he can do his.” Although she imagined that hers was not the help Courtney wanted, Elise crossed the room and linked their arms together, pulling the woman into step beside her. “Come on. We have to get out of here.”
Coaxing the frightened woman along every step of the way, Elise hurried as fast as they could to the stairwell beside the elevator. She radioed the information George requested to Dispatch and tucked her radio into her purse. With every flight of stairs, they joined more officers, visitors, administrators and support staff on their way down to the basement. With every floor they descended, the concussive noise of the wind and rain and the scream of the warning siren faded.
Elise led Courtney down the last flight of stairs into a crowded hallway where a uniformed officer directed them into the men’s locker room. Another officer there told them to find a seat against the concrete block wall near the showers.
“All these people work here?” Courtney seemed to be realizing for the first time just how many dedicated men and women worked for the police department.
“Most of them.” Elise helped the other woman off with her yellow coat. While Courtney folded it up to make a cushion for herself on the concrete floor, Elise stretched up on tiptoe to scan all the faces for any sign that George had made it safely down to the shelter with them. There were a lot of people crowding into the rooms down here. “This is just the headquarters and Fourth Precinct building. Each of the precincts employs almost as many people.”
“And George is in charge of all of them?”
“Until Commissioner Cartwright-Masterson comes back to work, yes.” Was Courtney just now beginning to understand the responsibilities her ex-husband carried on his shoulders? Could she comprehend that he needed a partner who could be a help to him, and not a drain on his time and emotional energy? “Do you see him anywhere?”
Instead of finding that distinguished dark hair spattered with silver, she spotted a familiar head of blond hair slicked back with water—and the beige towel from her office draped around the man’s neck. Elise climbed over a bench to reach him before he turned the corner. “James?”
“Lise.” He stepped out of the line he’d been following and excused his way back to her.
“I thought you’d left.” She hated the feeling crawling up her skin when a group she recognized from the tech squad jostled past her. Despite their apologies and a forgiving smile from her, she was developing a serious phobia about crowds of people.
“Here.” James helped her get back across the bench and out of the flow of human traffic. “The siren went off before I could get to my car. An officer in the lobby instructed me to come down here.”
“You mean Officer Wilkins.”
“I didn’t catch her name.” Her? Definitely not Shane. “You mean the tall guy who escorted me out? He ran off like he had a mission of some kind.”
Elise felt a tug at the hem of her dress. “Who’s your friend, Elise?”
“Oh, this is Courtney Reiter. This is—” she hoped this could still be the truth “—my friend. James Westbrook.”
When they shook hands, Courtney held on to pull herself up. “Nice to meet you.”
James nodded. “Pleasure.”
“Are you a police officer?”
He shook his head. “Financial consultant.”
“Really?” Did Elise imagine the healthy color that seeped into Courtney’s face? “No gun? No badge?”
“No.” He released Courtney’s hand and turned to Elise. “Look, I’m sorry about what happened upstairs. I guess I’m a bigger mess than I realized. I lost Marta, I left my job. I know you’re going through something now and you needed me to be there and I wasn’t—”
“Let’s not talk about that now.” She glanced around the room at all the anxious faces. The building was rattling above their heads. The sirens were still sounding their warning. “We have bigger things to worry about right now.”
“May I have your attention, please! Everyone!” A black man with streaks of gray in his hair and a badge hanging around his neck shouted above the noise in the room. Elise recognized Joe Hendricks, the fourth precinct watch commander—probably the highest ranking officer in the room. Instantly, the conversations fell silent and people stopped moving to listen. “We’ve been keeping up on the latest weather updates. At this time, I need everyone to have a seat against the wall. If your back’s not against a concrete block. Find one.”
The three of them sat on the floor while Captain Hendricks gave more orders regarding radio silence except for certain officers, and head counts for staff and guests. With Courtney wedged in the middle, Elise scooted closer, allowing as much room as possible to accommodate everyone taking shelter here.
Without a roomful of voices echoing off the concrete walls, Elise could hear the wind raging above them. She wondered what kind of devastation was raining down on the city. And she worried that George was still upstairs somewhere, facing the storm head-on. And then...silence.
Elise’s breath caught in her chest. Everyone in the room seemed to be looking upward, holding their breaths.
Sitting shoulder to shoulder, she felt Courtney shivering beside her. “Why is it so quiet?”
Elise hugged her purse to her chest, warding off the dreadful anticipation that twisted her stomach into knots. “The rain stopped.”
Courtney raised her voice above a whisper. “That’s good, right? Now they’ll turn off that horrid siren.”
Elise shushed her. “No. That silence is very bad.”
James nudged Courtney’s shoulder with his, trying to cajole her out of her fears. “The tornado is close enough to suck up all the rain. I remember a storm like this when I was a kid growing up east of here.”
“Really?” Courtney turned her attention to James. “You’ve survived one of these before?”
“Yeah.”
“Could I...?” She looped her arm through James’s and leaned against him. “Could I hold on to you? I’m afraid of storms.”
“Sure.” When James looked over Courtney’s head, Elise shrugged.
Why not? It wasn’t as if this wasn’t already the strangest week of her life. James needed a new project to focus on—and Courtney Reiter was definitely a project. It was almost a relief to see him put his arm around Courtney’s shoulder and hug her to his side.
“We’ll be fine down here,” he assured her. “All these reinforced walls? Below ground level? We’ll be safe.”
Not all of them were safe.
“Captain Hendricks said to do an office roll call, right?” She really didn’t need anyone to answer. “We’re all here. Where’s George?”
I’ll meet you in the basement.
You’d better. Or else, I’ll come looking for you.
Something wasn’t rig
ht. As surely as she had known an intruder had violated her bedroom, a man had followed her into a restroom during a blackout and that any of a dozen different weird events had been real threats and not tricks of her imagination, she knew that George was in trouble. It was her job to take care of him, just as he’d made it his job to protect her.
“Will you look after Courtney, James? Make sure she stays safe?” She slid the bracelet of keys up her arm, tucked the radio into her pocket and pushed herself up the wall to her feet.
He nodded. “Where are you going?”
She dropped her purse in her spot so she could move quickly through the room without hitting anyone. “To the other locker room. George isn’t in here. I need to make sure he’s safe.”
Perhaps a sharp-eyed wariness or determined purpose to her movements made others lean back or pull their feet out of her path as she stayed as low to the floor as she could while stepping over the bench and circling around several banks of lockers. But every “Excuse me” she uttered, every nod she traded, put her no closer to spying any sign of a damp blue shirt or that salt-and-pepper hair.
She’d nearly reached the exit when a concerned voice called out to her. “Elise? You need to sit down.”
Recognizing the uniformed officer, she squatted down beside him. “Officer Hale. Have you seen the deputy commissioner?”
“No, ma’am.”
His dark hair was wet, his shirt plastered to the flak vest he wore underneath. “How bad is it out there?”
“Bad. Nobody needs to be outside right now.”
Or on the upper floors of this building. “Could you try to get him on your radio? I don’t want to interfere with emergency transmissions.”
With a nod from Joe Hendricks, Denton turned his mouth to his shoulder and turned on his radio. “Commissioner Madigan, what’s your twenty? This is Officer Hale, badge number 1897.” Static was the only reply. “Commissioner Madigan, do you copy?”
“Why doesn’t he answer?”