Betrayals Stand (MidKnight Blue Book 5)

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Betrayals Stand (MidKnight Blue Book 5) Page 18

by Sherryl Hancock


  Now, as the song on the CD ended and another began, he realized what it was. “I Want You,” the song that had affected him so much in England, the first night in the club. The one he had known she’d like. He started to grin, and Midnight saw it.

  “What?”

  Rick shook his head. “Nothin’.” He hesitated. “I heard this song in England and thought of you. I knew you’d like it.”

  “You did, huh?” Midnight grinned at him.

  Rick nodded, smiling.

  They listened. Midnight sang the lyrics as Rick watched her, thinking how amazing it was that she could bounce back from so much in her life and still be so easygoing and happy. A little while later, the song ended and yet another began. Midnight looked over at him. “Did you hear this one too? ’Cause I like it a lot.”

  Somehow Rick knew what she meant, and as she turned the volume up, he knew why she liked it. It was called “Break Me Shake Me.” The words were like a script of their thunderous relationship.

  Rick noticed that she knew every word by heart, and she sang them like she really meant them. And he could tell that she did. It bothered him. When the song ended, he was still looking at her.

  “Is that our relationship?” he asked, though he already knew the answer.

  “Isn’t it?” she said, raising an eyebrow.

  “Yeah, I guess it is, but maybe that’s the problem.”

  “Do you think we could be any other way?”

  “If we wanted to.”

  But Midnight was already shaking her head. “Rick, we are who we are. You can’t change something like that. Our relationship has always been fire and ice.”

  “I know.” Rick leaned back against the headrest, feeling depressed suddenly.

  “It’s not bad, Rick. It’s us.”

  “Yeah, but are we ‘us’ anymore? It’s a moot point if we aren’t together anymore.”

  She gave him a pointed look. “We’re here together now, aren’t we?”

  Rick stared back at her, narrowing his eyes. “Wait a minute,” he said hesitantly. “Are you saying…”

  “Am I saying what?” Midnight said, twisting the knife just a little more. Then she started to laugh, and nodded.

  Rick couldn’t begin to quell the excitement that rose in his body. She had just restored his life with a simple laugh and a nod. It was damned dangerous, loving someone so much that such simple actions could all but kill him.

  “In that case…” Rick reached into his jacket pocket. “I have something to return to you.”

  Midnight looked over at the diamond-and-emerald ring, laughing harder. She raised an eyebrow at him. “Have you been carrying that thing around with you all this time?”

  Rick grinned sheepishly. “Yeah.”

  “Shame on you. Your grandmother would be appalled!”

  “I doubt that. She’d know I was just trying to return it to its rightful owner.”

  “Is that what I am?” Midnight said. She’d just pulled up at a red light, and Rick reached over to take her left hand.

  “No.” Rick slipped the ring onto her finger, looking into her eyes. “You’re my wife, and if that ring ever comes off your finger again, I will probably kill you.” Midnight shook her head—he sounded half serious, and probably was, but she liked it.

  Chapter 7

  The next day in the courthouse, it was obvious to everyone that knew Rick and Midnight that they were estranged no longer. He watched her constantly, but in a deeply affectionate way. His deep blue eyes no longer held regret, but they were still ever possessive of his wife. And beware the foolish soul that tried to come between them again. Midnight had accepted that Rick was possessive of her, while Rick had accepted that he could never totally own her, because doing so would kill the fire that drew him to her. They had adjustments to make, but they’d do it, because they loved each other and wanted no one else in the world.

  The bailiff called the court to order. As the trial proceeded, Nick pulled yet another astonishing rabbit out of his hat—he called Joseph Michael Sinclair the Fourth to the stand. A large ruckus went up as Joe walked in the back doors. Much as Midnight had been the day before, he was dressed in black from head to toe, the only color his gold shield glistening on his belt. Randy thought she’d die from the sight of him. He hadn’t looked so incredible to her since the day they’d met. She knew it was from a combination of not seeing him for a full month, the stress of the trial, and the confident, calm look on his face as he raised his hand to be sworn in—or perhaps just the shock that he was there in her defense—but Randy felt almost faint. When Joe sat down, and his light blue eyes trailed over to her, she saw no accusation, no anger, no hate. She was sure she must be dreaming. There were tears in her eyes as she looked back at him. He shook his head at her, just slightly, as if to tell her not to cry, and a smile pulled at his lips as she cried harder because of it.

  “For the record,” Nick said, aware that he didn’t need to clarify to anyone who Joe was, but doing it for effect, “you are Sergeant Joe Sinclair?”

  “Yes,” Joe said, his English accent clear in the courtroom.

  “And you are married to the defendant.”

  “Yes.” Joe looked straight at Randy. “Randy is my wife.”

  “How long have you and Randy been married?”

  “Almost four years now.”

  “Did you ever intend to divorce your wife?”

  “No.”

  “Even when you knew she was having an affair?”

  “Yes, even then.” Joe sounded slightly pained, and Randy closed her eyes.

  “Did you intend to write your wife out of your will?”

  Joe grinned, shaking his head. “No, I wouldn’t want anyone else to have my family home but Randy.”

  “Your family home, Sergeant Sinclair—where is that?”

  “In England.”

  “And your parents left you that home?”

  “Yes.”

  “It would be safe to say that it means a lot to you?”

  “Almost as much as Randy,” Joe replied, eliciting sighs from a number of the women in the room, at which he grinned.

  “So you never doubted your wife?”

  “I’m in love, not deaf, dumb, and blind. I doubted her at one point, but after I had a chance to think about everything that surrounded this whole mess, I knew she had nothing to do with it.”

  “What kinds of things did you think about?”

  “Well, there was the incident at the range.”

  “What happened there?”

  “Randy was set to do a run-through of the obstacle course at Duffy Town, and I just happened to be there. She started the shoot, and I could see that she was having a rough time. Eventually the gun literally jumped out of her hand.”

  “Your Honor, I’d like to submit at this time that Sergeant Sinclair is a certified range master for the San Diego Police Department, and is being utilized as an expert witness in these types of incidents.”

  “Mr. Cruz?” The judge looked over at the Deputy DA.

  “Stipulated,” Cruz said, having used Joe in many cases himself. He couldn’t fault his knowledge.

  “Sergeant Sinclair, what does it usually mean when a gun does what you described?”

  Joe scratched his forehead. “It means one of two things. Either the gun is too much for the shooter, or the gun has been loaded with ammunition that is too heavy for the gun.”

  “Which means what, ‘too heavy’?”

  “It means that the structure of the gun can’t compensate for the strength or amount of powder used to fire the bullet.”

  “And which was it in this case?”

  “The ammunition was too heavy. I checked it myself right there. I even argued with the sheriff’s range master about it, until the man looked at the gun magazine himself and agreed.”

  “Why does that day stick in your mind?”

  “Because Dickerson mentioned it when he and his friends had me. He said he’d loaded the ammuniti
on himself, that he hoped the gun would blow up in Randy’s face.”

  “Did he say why?”

  “No, but I got the distinct impression that he wanted to get rid of her.”

  “He told you that she was involved in the scheme, didn’t he?”

  “Yes, he did, but he couldn’t give me any proof. He just used it to make me mad.”

  “Did it work?”

  “Partly, yes.”

  “Why partly?”

  “Well, I didn’t believe him about Randy giving him the security code, or any of that crap, but when he told me Randy had been there when he’d attacked Midnight… that got to me.”

  “Why?”

  “Because Randy hadn’t told me.”

  “Did your partner tell you?”

  “No.”

  “Lieutenant Chevalier testified that she withheld the information from you and the department because she wanted you and Randy to get back together. Does that seem logical to you?”

  Joe grinned. “For Midnight’s screwed-up way of thinking, yes.”

  “You and your partner are very close?”

  “That’s a safe statement, yes.”

  “And your wife is aware of that?”

  “She always has been, yes.”

  “So there’s no reason for her to be suddenly worried that you were having an affair with your partner.”

  “Actually, I think she did manage to convince herself of that, but I think she had help there.”

  “And that help came from?”

  “The Dickersons.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Because Sarah Dickerson and Randy visited Midnight at her office one time. Sarah was goading Randy into accusing Midnight of sleeping with me.”

  “Objection!” Cruz interjected. “Hearsay.”

  “Your Honor, I will be recalling Lieutenant Chevalier to verify this story.”

  “Overruled. Continue, Mr. Kopanke.”

  “What other things have occurred to you since the raid, Sergeant Sinclair?”

  “Well, Dickerson himself admitted to me that he was the one that just about killed Midnight. He only said that Randy had stood by while it was happening.”

  “Sergeant Dickerson told you he did it?”

  “Oh yeah, he was real proud of himself.”

  “Charming. What else, Sergeant?”

  “Well, there was the night that Dickerson showed up at our house, when he knew I was out.”

  “How do you know he knew you were out?”

  “Because he knew that if he showed up at my house when I was home, I’d probably kill him.” Joe’s expression was completely serious.

  “So what happened?”

  “He confronted Randy and ended up trying to hurt her.”

  “Hurt her how?”

  “He strong-armed her in the throat. She had a bruise for about a week.”

  “Not exactly an action for someone who claims to love her, you think?”

  “Not exactly.”

  “Have you ever struck your wife?”

  “Never.”

  “And you love her.”

  “Yes.”

  “Is there anything else, Sergeant?”

  “Oh, yeah, there is one little detail that Dickerson let slip when he thought I’d be dead and no one would ever find out.”

  “And what detail was that?”

  “That he’d been involved with the Riveras long before this.”

  “And how do you know that?”

  “Objection! Your Honor, Sergeant Dickerson isn’t on trial here.” Cruz sounded exasperated at having to remind them over and over.

  “Your Honor, at this juncture, establishing Sergeant Dickerson’s longtime relationship with a drug cartel will set the pattern of planning and lies he has proliferated, thereby making my client a victim of his plot rather than a willing participant.”

  “Overruled.”

  Nick turned back to Joe. “Sergeant Sinclair, what did Dickerson say that made you aware of his longtime relationship with the Riveras?”

  “He said he’d had his eye on Randy for a long time, that he’d seen her with me, about four years ago.” Joe looked over at Randy to see how she was taking this revelation; she had started to pale.

  “What happened four years ago?”

  “A lot of things, actually, but one of them was my and Randy’s kidnapping.”

  “The two of you were kidnapped? By who?”

  “By a gang called the Scorpions. They were working for the Riveras and trying to wipe out FORS. They almost succeeded too. Did a lot of damage.”

  “How was Dickerson involved?”

  “The day Randy and I were grabbed, I got a phone call. It was a sergeant saying that one of our people needed an okay to do a search. The guy gave me directions to the place. As it turned out, it was a setup—it was where the Scorpions were waiting to grab us. Dickerson’s the sergeant that called me.”

  A number of angry voices shouted out in shock and fury. The judge called the room to order and indicated for Nick to continue.

  “Sergeant Sinclair, you said that Sergeant Dickerson told you this, but do you have any proof?”

  “Yes.”

  “And what is that?”

  “Phone records. We managed to backtrack my cell phone records and, focusing in on that day and the approximate time, we traced the numbers for the phone line. And lo and behold,” Joe finished triumphantly, “the call came from Dick Dickerson’s office at the PD.”

  “You have those records to turn over to the District Attorney?”

  “Yes, right here.” Joe pulled out a sheaf of papers from the inner pocket of his jacket.

  “And before you object, Mr. Cruz,” Nick said, “we were only able to attain these records last night by overnight mail. I can have that verified by the cellular phone company.”

  He turned back to Joe. “There was one other thing, wasn’t there, Sergeant?”

  “Yeah. The other thing I can put my finger on is at the raid, when we went back to hit the house. I had told Randy to stay in the raid helicopter—I didn’t want her involved because she isn’t fully trained. Anyway, just like my partner, she didn’t listen.” He grinned at Randy, then looked back at Nick. “But the next thing I know, I hear Dickerson on the other side of the house. I look around the deck, and he’s pointing his gun at Randy, telling her that she’d been easy, but now she was in the way…” Joe trailed off as he remembered the cold fear that had run through him, forcing him to charge Dickerson before he could shoot Randy.

  “That’s when you jumped Dickerson and he shot you. Is that correct?”

  “Yes.”

  “So you saved Randy’s life?”

  “I guess so.” Joe was never willing to take credit for his heroic deeds.

  “Dickerson was aiming right for her, wasn’t he?”

  “Yes.”

  “And at that range, could he have shot her?”

  “Even as bad a shot as he is, yes.”

  Nick grinned, as did many of the members of FORS. “So he could have killed your wife?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then you saved her life.”

  When Joe hesitated again, someone in one of the front two rows—who interestingly enough sounded like Spider—said, “Just admit it already!” The courtroom burst into laughter as Joe grinned widely and nodded. There were bursts of applause, some even from the press.

  When the courtroom had calmed down again, Nick continued. “A man doesn’t save the life of a woman he doesn’t trust.”

  “Not usually,” Joe said.

  “Do you think your wife had anything to do with the plot to kill you or Midnight Chevalier?”

  “No,” Joe said, his light blue eyes on his wife. No one in the room doubted him for a second.

  “Thank you, Sergeant. No further questions.”

  “Mr. Cruz?” the judge said, aware that Cruz wanted to cross-examine this time.

  “Yes, Your Honor. Joseph Michael Sincl
air… the Fourth, is it?”

  “Yes,” Joe replied, his eyes cool.

  “You come from a pretty prominent family back in England, don’t you?”

  “I guess so.”

  “I was told that your family is on the highest-regarded society rolls. It that true?”

  Joe looked at Cruz as if the man were crazy, then shrugged. “I haven’t been back there since Randy and I were married, and before that it had been over ten years.”

  “Well, then let me assure you, Sergeant, your family name is still intact on those rolls. That’s pretty important in England, isn’t it? Being on the society rolls?”

  “In England, yes.”

  “What does it mean to you?”

  “It means that my surname is on some damn piece of paper somewhere.” Joe was getting irritated at the tactic the DA was taking.

  “It doesn’t mean anything to you?”

  “No.”

  “You’re an only child, aren’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  “So, the way I understand it, it’s up to you to carry on your family name. Is that correct?”

  “My father had siblings.”

  “I see. And are there any boys in the family yet?”

  “Objection!” Nick called. “Sergeant Sinclair’s family history isn’t in question here.”

  The judge looked at Al Cruz. “He’s right. Get to the point, counselor.”

  “It’s your responsibility to carry on your family name as well as to uphold the level of aristocracy it has achieved. Is that correct?”

  “No,” Joe said, stunning the District Attorney.

  “No?”

  “You heard me.”

  “Why not?”

  “Objection! The witness has answered the District Attorney’s question. It isn’t the sergeant’s fault if the DA didn’t get the answer he wanted.”

  “Sustained. Move on, counselor.”

  Al Cruz looked a little deflated, but he regained his composure as he looked over his notes. “Sergeant, you said that your wife was aware of your relationship with your partner. Is that correct?”

 

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