by C. A. Szarek
Her heart skipped.
I just can’t.
She’d told Val those words over and over, but her friend wouldn’t let it drop. She’d said Hot Cop about twenty times in the hour she’d been at Mel’s house.
Dang. It.
Ignoring the heat of Val’s body at her shoulder, she scrolled through the ads and photo gallery of smiling, good-looking Friends First members. “Look, they have a special right now. Join before the end of the year and it’s half-off. And the Christmas party mixer is free. It’s next Saturday! We can check it out before we decide to join.” Mel spared Val a glance.
The blonde had one eyebrow arched. “We?”
“I want you to go with me.”
“No.”
“What do you mean no?” Mel swiveled her computer chair around, arching an eyebrow of her own.
Val crossed her arms over her ample breasts. “No. As opposed to yes. Just call Hot Cop and agree to go out with him. Boyfriend problem solved. No reason for this Friends First crap or dragging me along with you—three weeks before Christmas, to boot.”
“Geesh. After all the places you’ve made me go over the years, you can’t do me this one favor?”
“Did you hear anything I said?” Irritation laced Val’s words.
“I’m not calling Jared.”
“Why not? He kissed you in the parking lot. Practically begged you to go out with him. Something tells me begging isn’t something he normally does. Guys that look like him don’t have to beg. He likes you.”
Right. Sure he does.
“From now on, I’m not telling you squat about my life.”
Val snickered and perched herself on the edge of Mel’s desk. “Right. Let me know how that works out for you.”
Mel sighed and cast her eyes to the ceiling of her living room. “Thanksgiving Day.”
“What?”
“You made me go to the tree lighting. I didn’t want to go. You were meeting a guy.”
“Who turned out to be a douche.”
Mel met her best friend’s eyes. “Not. My. Fault. Please do this with me. Because all the things you’ve made me do and go to over the years don’t tip the scales on what I’ve asked of you.”
Val muttered a few words that shouldn’t be in the vocabulary of a third grade teacher. She frowned. Then took a gulp of beer. “Fine. I’ll go.”
Mel beamed.
“You can stop gloating. I’m only going ’cause there might be hot guys there, and I am actually the single one.”
Chapter Sixteen
“Why are you so jittery?” Cole stared, the water bottle plastered to his palm. When Jared didn’t answer, he squirted liquid in his mouth, but his eyes didn’t waver.
“I’m not, it’s just cold.” He jumped up and down.
“We just ran two miles. You’re not cold. There’s something else going on.”
Jared shook his head. His spine tingled. Sensation spread down his biceps, forearms, wrists, and onto the run-tightened muscles of his quads. It was like spiders crawling all over his sweaty form, and he winced.
Cole was right. He wasn’t affected by the temperature, even if they were having an unusually frigid winter. He could see his partner’s breath as they both cooled down from their run. “I’m good.”
But he wasn’t.
Hadn’t been for the last three days.
It’s been a loooooooong fucking weekend.
Since Friday, when he’d taken the key to the big safe house on Montgomery Street from the lockbox.
After he’d got Joe settled that night, he’d had a copy made at the hardware store, but Jared hadn’t been able to put the original back.
Jared should have stopped by the PD Saturday or Sunday, but he’d been paranoid there would be no logical reason for him to step into his boss’s office a second time. So he’d chickened out and had stayed away from the station.
He, Carrigan and Lucas had worked a little, but hadn’t accomplished much. They’d gone back to the scene and gone over Neil and Max’s two reports.
He’d have to put the key back this morning—if he could beat Cole to work.
Too much longer, and there was no way Nikki wouldn’t notice.
Joe was alone in the place. Had promised he’d stay out of sight.
The guy was torn up, but wouldn’t say about what. The first night—as well the following two—Jared hadn’t been able to get a word out of him about what had happened inside that crappy trailer.
His brother had paced the master bedroom and kept ramming his hand through his shorn hair.
Because of Carrigan’s call, they had a pretty good idea who the shooter was, but Carter Bennett hadn’t been found in Antioch.
They had a BOLO out with every neighboring department, as well as the County Sheriff’s Office, and Taylor of course had spread the word to her FBI contacts.
Joe was going to have to talk, but Jared was giving him some space—and a little time. He’d try again later today.
It’d been long enough.
He’d gone to his apartment, though he’d not wanted to walk away from his older brother. Jared had stuffed clothing and toiletries in a bag and bought enough food for a week. He’d left his Ducati in the garage at the safe house for an emergency. If Joe had to leave and a cop ran the license plate, Jared was screwed.
What the fuck are you doing?
Brother or not, he was harboring a fugitive.
Day three.
Shaking like he had the DTs was becoming his norm, as well as the paranoia he’d get caught by Carrigan—or Lucas—at any second.
Joe was only making it worse by thanking him profusely every time he’d gone to see him. As well as his constant asking if Jared was sure about this.
Hell no, I’m not sure about this.
He’d told Joe he was determined to prove he was innocent of murder. His older brother still hadn’t said anything about—well, anything—but the look he’d flashed Jared was grateful.
Jared had managed to get Joe to promise not to take off, too.
That’s something, I guess.
“No. You’re not.” Cole’s voice yanked him from his inner torment and he met his partner’s concerned eyes.
What?
Oh, yeah. Me. Okay.
“I’m fine. Really.” Nodded for effect, but his partner’s expression shouted Lucas didn’t buy it.
“You need to let me in on whatever’s going on in that head of yours. Is it Carrigan?”
“No.”
“Okay, then.” Cole tilted his head to one side. “How’d it go with Miss Nash?”
Jared frowned and ignored the urge to rub his chest. “It didn’t.” Another thing he’d been trying to forget about for the longest weekend of his life.
“Damn. She shut you down?”
He didn’t answer as Cole took another swig of water before popping the lid shut and tossing his bottle into a black duffel.
The morning was chilly, and it wasn’t quite six-thirty. Normally they saw a few other runners at the public track, but today they were alone.
For the second workday in a row, they’d met to run beforehand, but they normally tried to do so several times a week.
Cole was one of the few guys who could keep up with him and his workout routine. Jared had always enjoyed hanging with his partner on the track or in the gym. Even at the guy’s house for a football game, or playing with Cole and Andi’s two little boys.
Lucas was his partner, but he was also his friend…his family.
Which just makes this shit harder.
“I’m still blown away that my kid’s teacher was your one-night stand. She doesn’t seem the type.”
She’s not. I’m a skeeze.
Jared wiped his face with a towel and continued to ignore Cole Lucas. He reached for his bag, stuffed the terry cloth inside and yanked the zipper closed. He hefted the duffel, settling the strap across his torso.
“Not talkative this morning,” his buddy muttered. “You sur
e everything’s okay with your family?”
Not if you mean my older brother. “Yeah. Seriously.”
Doubt flashed in Cole’s eyes, but he didn’t push.
Thank God.
They headed to the parking lot in silence.
“I’ll meet you at work.”
“Jer.” His partner’s expression was concerned, but hard. “Do you trust me?”
Shock washed over Jared, and he squared his shoulders. Flushed to his toes. Forced a nod, because he couldn’t find his voice.
Stop looking at me like that.
“Good. My gut says there’s something you’re not telling me.” Once again, that concrete tone matched the look on his face.
This was definitely one of those times Jared didn’t appreciate Cole’s instincts. “There’s not.” He cursed the croak in his voice.
“Then what the fuck is up with you?”
Jared swallowed hard. Words fell out of his mouth. “I want Mel.”
Lucas’ big shoulders relaxed. He studied him for a few seconds then blew out a breath, which Jared could see in the air. “That’s what this is about?”
He forced another nod.
It wasn’t a lie.
Jared did want her.
Cole whistled, and a slow knowing smile curved his lips. “It finally happened.”
“What?”
“You’re screwed in the head over one woman.”
He scowled. “Yeah. Thanks, partner.”
“Try calling her?”
“She shut me down in the school parking lot Friday after we talked to her class. I don’t have her number. But if I show up again, with my luck, she’ll call Chief. She accused me of stalking her.”
His partner laughed.
“I’m glad you’re amused.”
Cole shook his head. “I never thought I’d see it, is all.”
“See what?”
“The one you want doesn’t want you.”
Jared’s gut tightened. “Thanks for putting it so succinctly. I’ll see you at work.” With a sigh, he turned to head to his truck, but Lucas grabbed his arm.
“I’m sorry, Jer. I won’t jack with you about her.”
He fought the urge to close his eyes.
Mel’s rejection and Joe’s situation had him tight, despite the refreshing run and relieving stretch afterward.
“It’s okay. Serves me right.”
“Serves you right? Nah. Give it a day or two, and try again. You’re basically a nice guy.”
Jared smirked. “Thanks. I think.”
Cole flashed dimples. “You gonna be able to play nice with Carrigan? Speaking of the next few days.”
“I guess so. Why?”
“I have to go to New York. Caselli’s trial is underway, and they need me to testify. Leavin’ in the morning.”
The big-time human trafficker had finally been caught last year by Cole’s former partner—Pete’s sister-in-law, Special Agent Selena Dawson—now Crane. Lee and her partner led Cole’s former unit in New York City.
Caselli had killed his former attorney himself and they’d finally been able to get enough evidence on him for a warrant. They had video footage and everything.
Hopefully all the other crimes Caselli had orchestrated would be factors in the trial, and he’d pay for everything illegal he’d ever done—sex trafficking, money laundering, drugs, owning gambling establishments. The man had had his hands in quite a few bags, from what Jared understood.
He’d sent men to Texas twice in years past to go after guys who’d turned on him. First Carlo Maldonado then someone who’d left his organization, Alberto Carbone.
So, Jared was familiar with the bastard. Had assisted in the multiple investigations that had resulted in the man’s taint on Antioch. The trail of bodies was bigger than city council would ever like to admit.
“Wow. When? We’re in the middle of a case,” Jared said.
“I know, but I shouldn’t be gone more than a few days. I’d like to stay for the whole thing, but I need to be here, play referee to you and Ms. FBI.”
“Yeah, yeah. I can handle Ms. FBI. But she won’t like being left with the redheaded stepchild.”
Cole chuckled. “Hey now, my kid has red hair.”
He grinned. “Right. Carrigan would probably compare working with me to hanging with Ethan. We’re both six years old in her eyes. You know she thinks you’re made of gold, and I’m a pile of shit.”
It was his partner’s turn to smirk. “She does have a little bit of a superiority complex.”
“Now that you it put it that way, that’s probably why you two get along.”
Cole laughed long and hard. “I know you’re a damn good cop, even if you were never FBI.”
“That’s what it is with her?” Jared arched an eyebrow.
“I’m thinking so, but I have faith in you, partner.” Lucas patted his shoulder, grinning from ear to ear.
“Yeah, yeah. I’ll see you at work.”
Chapter Seventeen
Taylor sighed. She tried to ignore Manning, but she could feel his glare from across his cubicle. She was using his computer, and evidently he had no patience for real investigation.
Lucas had been gone for three days.
She’d been stuck with the younger detective, and neither of them was pleased.
He was twitchy.
She kept snapping at him.
They were getting nowhere on the case.
Which makes things worse.
There was no sign of Pompa, Carter Bennett, or the last unaccounted member of their gang, Rowdy Vargas.
And Jared Manning winced every time she said the name Joe Pompa.
Taylor hadn’t figured out why just yet, but something was there.
It was subtle. His shoulders would tense and a ripple of some unnamed emotion would traverse his handsome face.
Taylor needed to call Eddie to see if he’d heard anything, but then again, her fellow FBI agent would’ve called, like he’d said he would.
“It’s likely Bennett did his job and got out of town,” Manning said.
Had the detective read her mind?
“Yeah, it would make sense. But where’s Vargas? Getaway car—or body yet to be found?”
He shrugged, lifting one booted foot and resting it against the gray fabric wall of his cubicle. “You’re the FBI agent. You tell me.” He smirked.
Anger flipped Taylor’s stomach and she sucked in a breath so she wouldn’t snap at him. Again. Or worse—smack the look off his face.
Damn the man.
She turned back to the computer screen, flexing her fingers that rested on the mouse.
“I’ve been a cop for eight years, you know. Detective for almost six. I didn’t get promoted for nothing.” His deep voice made her frown.
Taylor swiveled the chair around.
His posture was relaxed, his shoulders up against the felt wall, but the expression on his face was hard.
“Your point?”
“I’m not an idiot. I know what I’m doing. I am an investigator. A damn good one, too. If you need to pull my file, ask my boss. Look at my close-out rating. Even before Cole was my partner.”
“Still not hearing a point here.” Taylor reclined in the chair, ignoring how the tension rippled across his broad shoulders.
Manning crossed his arms over his chest. “Bullshit.”
“Bullshit?”
“You know exactly what I’m talking about. And why I am saying it.”
Taylor didn’t respond.
The detective pushed off the wall and glared. “Since you’ve arrived, you’ve been treating me like shit. You show me zero respect, like I’m a gnat to be swatted. Meanwhile, you think Cole Lucas hung the moon. I gather it’s because I’m a cop in a city of less than fifty-thousand people, and you think since he was FBI and I’m not, I don’t know anything. Well, I might not work on the Dallas Violent Crimes Task Force, but I have worked a murder or two, and I do know what the fuck I’m do
ing.”
She didn’t want to respond. Because he was wrong—wasn’t he?
His cell phone rang and Taylor jumped.
“We’re not done with this,” Manning barked as he palmed the phone and glanced down at the screen.
Yeah. Kiss my ass. But Taylor didn’t say the words. She’d never admit that he was even a little bit right.
They’d met at a bar, and she hadn’t been impressed from the start.
That’s just an excuse.
Truth was, she’d been struggling to function since John died, and it was just easier with Lucas, since he’d been FBI. Less explaining.
Then again—so far, Manning hadn’t required much, either. He was a good cop. Sharp eyes and mind. Good ideas. And he’d shown her around Antioch. But Taylor would never admit she’d been wrong in the way she’d treated him. Manning would see her as weak.
He was a straightforward kind of guy, so it was a wonder he’d held his tongue and not confronted her before now.
Just apologize so you can get on with the case. You still have to work with him.
She bit back a sigh and fought the urge to close her eyes.
Taylor’s eyes grazed over Cole Lucas’ work area. It backed up to Manning’s, with only a short cubicle wall separating the two. Her eyes rested—against her will—on the picture of him and his family proudly displayed next to his computer monitor.
Lucas, his wife—fellow detective Andi MacLaren-Lucas—and their two kids. Four smiles for the camera that just made her gut ache with loss.
I’ll never have that with John.
Her mind slipped back to Thanksgiving Day—again, unwillingly. The day had been pleasant. More than just a hot meal.
Too bad she’s spent the whole time skittering between envy, loss and having a good time. She’d ruined things for herself.
Couldn’t relax and enjoy—something else she hadn’t been able to do since John had been murdered.
Taylor hadn’t run into Andi in a work situation. Manning had nothing but good things to be said about her skills as a cop. As she understood it, the detective and her partner, Pete Crane, were working a stolen property case-turned huge burglary ring. So they’d been out of the office a great deal.
She and Manning had passed them about ten minutes before, when they’d gone to CID to review some reports, but the other set of partners was headed to lunch.