by Style, Linda
“He can come, too. Can’t he, Daddy?” Sam’s big eyes pleaded with her father.
“Of course. We’d love to have both of you. The more people the better.”
Easy to say when they didn’t know anything about Diego. Would Alex be so magnanimous if he knew where her brother had been for the past ten years?
“Tell me you’ll think about it. It’s been a while since we’ve had a full table and—” his voice softened “—we’d really like it if you and your brother joined us.”
She nodded, noncommittal, but that seemed to be enough for Sam—and for Alex. Quickly finishing her dessert, Crista said, “I think it’s time for me to go home.”
Sam hopped off her chair, ran over and gave Crista a hug, and at the same time, Crista heard Elena say, “I hope you can share in our Thanksgiving. We have much to be thankful for.”
There was a sadness in Elena’s voice. She missed her daughter. Holidays were the worst time for people who’d lost someone they loved. Crista felt an overwhelming empathy for the woman. She knew the feeling well. She guessed Alex felt the same—only he was good at not showing his emotions. He was too stoic, too macho to let anyone see the pain inside.
Alex walked Crista to the door, his hand touching the small of her back. As light as his touch was, she could feel his heat. She liked the way it made her feel—even though she didn’t quite know what that feeling was. Or did she?
Lord, she hoped he didn’t broach the Thanksgiving thing again. That Sam liked her enough to ask her to join their family at Thanksgiving made her spirits soar. But professionally, it was a bad idea. Getting personally involved in a case went against everything she’d learned at the academy. She’d had long discussions with her friends on the subject, especially after Abby left the academy to join her lover in North Carolina.
But the years since the academy had taught Crista that life wasn’t always a case of black and white, and sometimes what you thought was the right thing to do turned out to be wrong in the end.
Samantha had looked so hopeful when she’d asked Crista to spend Thanksgiving with them, it was difficult to refuse. Elena and Alex seemed so sincere, as if they really wanted her to come. Even to the point of asking her to bring her brother….
But they didn’t know about Diego. She had to tell Alex. Tell him why she couldn’t make it.
At the door, Alex said, “You caught me off guard back there. I thought you said you had no family.”
Surprised that he remembered that, she looked away. “That’s not quite correct. I said I had no close family who cared about me. My brother and I have only recently been in contact. He’s been away for a long time.”
“Ah. An adventurer?”
Not even close. So tell him. Tell him and get it over with.
If she told him about Diego, then she wouldn’t have to worry about the invitation. After what Sam had been through, there’s no way Alex would invite a criminal into his house.
“No, he’s far from that. My brother…has been away because he was in jail.” She waited a beat to see his reaction and when she didn’t see any discernable change, she added, “For ten years.” Alex had to know that only someone who’d committed a serious crime would be gone that long.
But Alex’s expression was unchanged—as if he hadn’t heard a thing. “How long has he been out?”
“A little over a week. He’s having a hard time of it.”
“I’d like to meet your brother. Maybe I can introduce him to some people who can help him ease the transition.”
Well, that wasn’t even close to what she’d expected him to say. “I’m…I’m not sure yet if he’ll even come to my place, much less anyone else’s. He’s a bit of a loner.”
“Why don’t you extend the invitation and let him decide?”
He had a point. Asking Diego would also take the onus of refusal off her.
What to do? It was just a dinner. A friendly dinner. That’s all. And maybe it would be good for Diego to see how others lived. Maybe meeting Alex would spark an interest in Diego to do something different with his life.
“Sam will be super disappointed if you don’t come.”
Was that the only reason he wanted her there—because he didn’t want Sam to be disappointed? Even if it was, it was a good reason—one she could easily understand. The child was so loving, she’d already found a little niche in Crista’s heart.
She took a breath. “Okay. I’ll ask him.”
A smile slowly spread across Alex’s face. The midnight color of his eyes seemed to melt into a soft, warm brown. “Great. Maybe it’ll feel like a real Thanksgiving again.”
AS ALEX WATCHED Crista drive away, a gust of wind rustled the through the giant magnolia trees surrounding his home. Thick, solid trees with fat leathery leaves and fragrant, lemon-scented blossoms in the spring and summer—an intoxicating scent that could almost make a person dizzy.
Marissa had always said the big trees were like sentinels guarding her home and family, keeping them from harm. Just like him, she’d said. When he’d placed his strong arms around her, she’d felt secure and protected.
Marissa had needed him as a buffer from the world, and he’d relished the role. He’d felt necessary. Needed.
But in the end, he hadn’t been able to protect Marissa.
He went inside, closed the door and leaned against the smooth wood. Now, the only person who needed him was Samantha, and he’d not been able to protect her, either. Nothing in his world felt safe and secure.
His first instinct after Sam had been hurt was to whisk his little girl away to a place where gangs didn’t roam the streets and people didn’t shoot each other over nothing.
But he couldn’t leave. Not if he wanted to live with himself. Marissa had wanted Samantha raised in her family home. He’d promised Marissa he’d stay. No matter what. He’d made a commitment to her and to the community. He’d vowed long ago not to sit back and let others decide what needed to be done. If he wanted change, then he had to be part of the process to make it happen.
But tonight, he was still reeling from learning that Sam might have witnessed the shooting. He knew Crista had to file a report and tell Captain Englend what Sam had said. Would the captain then want Sam to identify men in a lineup? He couldn’t fathom putting Sam through that.
But he also had to consider that if Sam had seen the shooter, they might have seen her—and they might want to make sure she didn’t say anything. Nothing had happened to make him think that was the case, and because it had been dark in the room, it wasn’t likely they’d seen her. Still, the thought scared the hell out of him, and he wanted to do something to protect Sam. Crista had mentioned a bodyguard. He could hire someone until he knew there was no danger. And he still had to talk to the boys at the center. He couldn’t imagine any of them being involved, but someone may have heard something on the street, and if anyone knew anything…
“I hope Ms. Santiago joins us for Thanksgiving.”
Elena’s voice brought Alex to the moment.
His mother-in-law continued talking as she bustled toward the stairs. “Thanksgiving is for family and friends. It will be nice having people here again. It will be good for Samantha.”
“Yes, it would be nice, and good for Sam, too. I’m hoping Crista accepts the invitation. If not, maybe we’ll invite some of the boys I work with.” As he said the words, he felt an emptiness inside.
He missed being part of a family. Missed family activities on the weekends, breakfast and dinner together, nights in front of the fire watching their favorite shows, though that hadn’t happened as often as Marissa had wanted. He’d been too busy with the new job. And since Marissa’s death, he’d been so intent on taking up the slack in Sam’s life without her mother, he hadn’t had time to think about what he’d personally been missing.
He’d put all thoughts of love out of his mind. Not because there weren’t plenty of eligible women around, but because the pain of losing Marissa had been unbearable.
If he allowed someone else into his life, there was always the chance that it wouldn’t work. The chance that something might happen. It was easier not to get involved. Easier to keep the status quo.
But dammit. He couldn’t seem to stop thinking about Crista. Despite the all-business facade she presented on the job, he’d seen a vulnerable woman underneath it all. He saw her wistful expression when she talked with Sam, the pain in her eyes when she talked about her brother. When he’d visited her apartment, and even tonight, she seemed a different person. Softer. Sensitive and caring. Vulnerable.
He hadn’t imagined there could be another woman besides Marissa who could affect him so deeply.
THE NEXT MORNING, Crista headed to work on a spurt of new energy. After her pleasant dinner with the Del Rio family and a quick workout at the gym last night, she’d felt revitalized. For the first time in two weeks she’d slept like a rock.
Today, she should have the information she’d been waiting for from Ballistics. The results weren’t going to solve the case for her, but it was a starting place. If the bullet from the Encanto shooting could be linked to the drive-by at her apartment, she’d have a better idea of what they were looking at.
Diego was also on the list of people she planned to see today. She had to extend the Thanksgiving invitation from Alex, and if he said no, she’d tell him to come to her place and then she’d give Alex her regrets.
And next was Marco. Her earlier plan to talk to him had been derailed, but it was still a good plan. Maybe he could elaborate on what Diego had told her and she’d find out why Diego thought she was searching for evidence in the wrong place. The fact that some people were getting upset by it, told her just the opposite. If she was ruffling feathers by getting too close, then she was looking in the right place. And baby, she’d only just begun.
“Good morning,” she said cheerily to Hanover on her way by his desk. The spring in her stride reflected her mood and she wasn’t going to let anything spoil it. Not even Hanover when he mumbled something unintelligible in response.
Gliding by the other desks, Crista stopped short when she saw Pete in Englend’s office. Pete was on vacation. What was he doing here?
She continued to her desk where she attempted to busy herself with two different cases she’d taken on prior to the Encanto case. One involved a double homicide—a man and his girlfriend—and the two prime suspects were the man’s wife and his son. But both had alibis. The other case involved a missing teenager whose parents believed he had been murdered. There was blood in the boy’s room, evidence that something had happened, but no body and no weapon. No suspects. Both cases had taken a back seat to the Encanto case since the mayor’s edict had come down.
But as much as she wanted to focus, she couldn’t stop wondering why Pete was here. Had something happened to Sharon? The baby? Pete’s hard, angry expression said no, it was something else.
When the phone rang, she snatched it up. “Santiago here.”
“I have your information,” a woman’s small voice said.
“Good information?”
“Why don’t you come down and see.”
“I’ll be right there.” But as anxious as she was to hear what Josey had to say, she didn’t want to miss talking with Pete. “I’m finishing up something here. I’ll be there in a few.”
As she hung up, Crista saw Pete leaving Englend’s office. He didn’t come over but headed for the door. She bolted to her feet and caught up with him in the hall. “Pete. Wait. What are you doing here? Is everything okay?”
He gave her a thin smile. “Yeah, things are great.” His tone held a note of sarcasm.
“Is Sharon okay? The baby?”
He shook his head as if just realizing Crista’s concern was about his family. “Oh, yeah, they’re fine. This was work related.”
“You’re still taking the time off, aren’t you?”
He nodded. “Sure am.”
“Then what was so important that you had to come down and meet with the captain?”
“You don’t want to know.”
An ominous feeling settled in Crista’s bones. “It was about me, wasn’t it?” Why she thought that, she didn’t know—except that Pete wouldn’t normally have any qualms telling her anything if it was about a case.
“Tell me, Pete. I can take it.”
At forty-five, Pete still looked like a little boy and, right now, he looked like a kid who’d been caught stealing candy bars from the cupboard.
“C’mon. Spit it out. What did Englend say about me?”
“Nothing about you. He told me I was getting a new partner and asked me if I had any preference.”
Crista sputtered. “I—I don’t understand. Did you request a change?” She couldn’t fathom that Pete would do something like that without telling her first. Pete wasn’t the kind to make waves. At his age, he simply wanted to do his time and retire.
He shook his head. “No, I didn’t.” He moved closer and bent near her ear. “Englend said you’re coming off the Encanto case. That they have to get someone who can tie it up fast.”
That figured. He’d get someone who’d arrest anyone. Anger grew in her gut. Her blood pressure spiked. It sounded as if Englend wasn’t just taking her off the case, he was replacing her. She knew what that meant. A transfer to a back desk deep in the bowels of the building somewhere.
That’s what the good old boys did when they wanted to get rid of an officer. Treat him like crap until the officer couldn’t take it anymore and resigned. She’d seen it happen more than once. “Was that what you meant when you said I should watch my back?”
Pete shrugged.
Crista couldn’t ask Pete what he had said to Englend. He valued his job. Wanted to stay here till retirement. Pete was caught between his loyalty to a partner he’d only had for a couple months and the captain, who held Pete’s career in his hands. She felt bad for Pete. He didn’t need to be in that position—and he was here because of her.
“Thanks for cluing me in. I appreciate it. And now, I gotta go. Ballistics called.”
“They got something good?”
“I hope so.”
Crista had started to leave when Pete said, “Now that you got me to spill my guts, don’t you want to know what I told him?”
She stopped midstride, but didn’t turn. She wanted to know but she was afraid of what she’d hear. She took a breath, turned to face him and braced for the worst. “Sure.”
He stepped forward and placed his hands gently on her upper arms. “I told him I have the best partner I’ve ever had, and I don’t want another.”
Crista swallowed. “You told him that?”
“Yes. And I meant it.”
Tears suddenly welled in Crista’s eyes and she couldn’t prevent a wobbly smile. She didn’t know what to say, but she felt grateful that someone was on her side. She quickly blinked back the uncharacteristic display of emotion. “How did Englend react? What you said isn’t going to affect your job, is it?”
He shrugged again. “I don’t think so, but if it does, I’ll deal with it. Englend seemed to take it in stride. Maybe he respects my judgement.”
“And well he should.” Crista tried to joke, but the seriousness of her situation flattened her voice and her spirit. And while it felt wonderful to have Pete’s support, she could never let him put his job in jeopardy for her. “Promise me you won’t do that anymore.”
“Do what?”
“Put your career on the line for me.”
Pete tilted his head back and laughed flat out. “I wasn’t doing it all for you, babe. I was doing it for me, too. He wanted to put Eddie Fontanero in your place.”
Crista knew Fontanero, not personally, but they’d once worked out of the same precinct. She also knew him by reputation. He was a long time HPD veteran, hired when racial preference points were added to test scores. Rumors abounded that he was on the take, had been for years, but since he had powerful political friends in the minority community and pro
tection from high up on the force, nothing ever came of them.
It was well-known that Fontanero was aggressive and calculating and wasn’t above intimidating officers and suspects alike to keep them quiet. His treatment of women on the force was legend. But in all cases, the brotherhood—the silent code of not ratting on a fellow officer, protected him.
Crista knew why Englend wanted Eddie Fontanero. He was the kind of officer who ingratiated himself with those who could do him some good, and if Englend wanted an arrest, Fontanero would make one.
“I see.” She really did. While no officer would rat on Eddie, no one who had any integrity wanted to work with the guy, either. “Whoever it was for, thanks for trying to help. Now get home to your wife and that new baby of yours.”
Pete left and Crista headed for Josey’s office, the conversation still ringing in her ears. Englend had never wanted a woman on his team and it was pretty obvious he would use any excuse to get rid of her. As far as she was concerned, it was a clear case of gender bias. He’d put her on the case to show she couldn’t do the job.
Her mind spinning, she nodded absently at a couple officers who passed her in the hall. Her career was in jeopardy and not because of anything she’d done. Worse yet, if Englend took her off the job and the wrong person was arrested, that would leave the real perpetrator on the streets—and Alex would think his family was safe.
CHAPTER NINE
“SEE THIS LINE HERE?” Josey Adams, one of the CSU’s ballistics experts, pointed to an enlarged picture of a bullet on her computer screen.
“Yes.”
Josey flipped to another screen. “And this one here? The markings are the same on both bullets.”
“Which means they came from the same gun.” A rush of adrenaline pounded through Crista’s veins. She’d known from the empty cartridges at the crime scenes that the weapon used was a .38 caliber semiautomatic handgun. Now she had the evidence to tie the two cases together. Gun markings were like fingerprints and the bullets could be matched to one gun.