Where Loyalties Lie (MidKnight Blue Book 3)

by Sherryl Hancock

  “I, uh,” Randy began, not liking the hesitation evident in her voice, or the way Joe turned his head to look at her, as if surprised she had had the nerve to speak to him. “I need a ride,” she said, rushing to get the words out.

  Joe looked at her knowingly for a long moment. “Where?” he asked. By telling him where she needed to go, she’d be indicating where she had gone the night before, without him having to take the undesirable position of the insecure husband asking his wife where she’d been.

  “To work,” Randy said, at which Joe raised an eyebrow. He already knew she hadn’t driven home. Having noted her condition when she got back, he had checked the garage, ready to crucify her if she had been defiant enough to drive after she’d been drinking. After a moment he nodded, then continued to drink his coffee, letting her squirm a little bit more, not letting on that he knew her car was not in the garage.

  Randy watched him for a minute, curious at first why he didn’t ask why she needed a ride, when any other time she could have driven herself. Her irritation grew as she came to the conclusion that he did know why, but he wanted her to admit to it, and he was waiting patiently for that admission. Well, she thought, I won’t give him the satisfaction. So she said nothing, hoping he would be curious enough to pursue the matter. He didn’t. He waited.

  The drive to the office was devoid of conversation, but in contrast to his resigned silence he opened doors for her, as was his customary polite behavior. Once at the office, they went their separate ways.

  Later in the day, Randy stuck her head into Midnight’s room. “Do you have a minute?” she asked. Midnight looked up from the paperwork on her desk, a pen between her teeth. She nodded, then motioned for Randy to come in and shut the door.

  “What’s up?” Midnight asked, having noticed the tension between Randy and Joe and worked out that something new had happened.

  “I need to ask a favor,” Randy began hesitantly. After all, Midnight was her boss, even if Joe and Midnight were best friends.

  “Yeah?” Midnight nodded.

  “I need a ride.” She hesitated again, then hurried on. “I mean, I need to pick up my car, at Park Place.” Randy bit her lip, not sure what Midnight would think or say.

  “And your car’s at Park Place because…?”

  “Well, I went there last night, you know, to celebrate my start date for the academy.” Randy told the rest of the story, seemingly all in the same breath. “And I sort of drank a little too much, and I didn’t want to drive, so I called a cab, and…” Again she hesitated, not knowing where Midnight’s loyalties would lie in terms of her fight with Joe, but decided to finish with, “Well, Joe’s mad at me for going out, and I don’t want to ask him to take me… and so I was kind of hoping that maybe you could?”

  Midnight was staring at Randy wide-eyed, as if she couldn’t believe her. Randy was sure Midnight was surprised about the drinking and that she’d be mad about her going out without Joe. She began to wish she hadn’t asked. But Midnight surprised her by saying, “You took a cab from all the way in Kearny Mesa to La Jolla? Shit! That must have cost a fortune!”

  Randy started laughing. She was so relieved that Midnight wasn’t mad at her; she was afraid she had made a big mistake asking Midnight to basically go around Joe.

  Randy still didn’t quite understand her husband’s relationship with his partner and boss. Many times when Randy was sure Midnight would side with Joe on something, she found that Midnight would actually fight him. They always argued, but they always stayed friends. Midnight always had her own opinion, like about Randy’s career decision—Joe abhorred the idea, and Midnight thought it was great, and she wasn’t silent or clandestine about her support of Randy. Randy hoped that someday she could be more like Midnight, not afraid to say what she thought and willing to go the distance to prove it, or have it proven to her that she was wrong. Midnight was almost always willing to accept things and admit that she was wrong—almost always.

  Randy left Midnight’s office a few minutes later, feeling like she had won a minor battle against Joe, although she wondered belatedly if Midnight would tell him that she was taking her to her car. Oh well, he was bound to find out anyway.

  When Joe saw them leaving together, he surmised that Randy had asked Midnight to take her to get her car. It irritated him, but he did have to give his wife credit—she was learning to circumvent him. He was fairly sure that Midnight wouldn’t tell him anything either, knowing that Midnight supported Randy’s fledgling independence. Besides which, she didn’t play that way. If Joe wanted to know something as ludicrous as where Randy had gone, he should ask her.

  Later, Midnight would agree with Joe, however, that the least Randy could have done was leave a note to explain she had gone out with some friends, considering she’d never done it before.

  In Midnight’s Corvette, Randy sat looking at her boss, the woman who had been nice enough to hire a very shy kid to work for people as dynamic and complex as she and Joe were. Randy thought often of the “interview” she had had with Midnight. She had thought Midnight was just one of the team when she sat down next to her that day. Midnight had talked to her, telling her about FORS and asking her casual questions. Clad in jeans, boots, and a cotton shirt, Midnight had put Randy at ease.

  Midnight had not treated Randy as a subordinate from the very first day; Midnight didn’t treat anyone like a subordinate unless absolutely necessary. Randy respected that. She knew Midnight Chevalier-Debenshire had quite a lot of power and clout in her field, and it would be easy for her to become drunk with that power, but Midnight remained level-headed and fair.

  Randy knew about Rick’s “affair” with Sheila Theland. Joe had been sputtering when he called her from his car phone the night he found Rick at the Theland household. Randy knew it must be serious if Joe had actually resorted to knocking Rick down. She still couldn’t believe Midnight had actually filed for divorce; she also knew Joe had been surprised at her swift retaliation in the face of Rick’s infidelity. The fact that Midnight and Rick’s marriage might actually be breaking up shook Randy’s confidence in her own marriage. Before she had known about the trouble in the Debenshire household, Randy hadn’t even considered that Joe might actually leave her if she went forward with the hiring process for the department. But now, she wasn’t so sure.

  “Midnight,” Randy said.

  “Hmm?” Midnight replied, her mind elsewhere, thinking about the night before with Rick.

  “Are you and Rick… Well, are you really through?” Randy realized after she’d said it that it really was none of her business, but it was too late to take the words back.

  Midnight looked over at her, actually surprised the other woman had asked. Randy seemed to be surprising her often lately. Midnight shrugged, then nodded slowly, realizing that Randy was concerned about the stability of her own marriage.

  “Are you and Joe still going at it?” she asked point blank, with no hesitation. Midnight knew that Randy knew Joe almost always told her everything.

  Randy blew her breath out in a sigh. “Going at it is a pretty safe term to use.”

  Midnight nodded. “You should have been prepared for this,” she said. Her tone was friendly, but her words stung anyway.

  “Well, Jesus Christ!” Randy snapped. “You know I’m not the first woman to apply for the goddamned police department!”

  Midnight grinned at the other woman’s outburst. “No, but you are the first Mrs. Joseph Sinclair to apply.”

  “Why does that have to matter?” Randy said stridently.

  “It doesn’t have to matter, it shouldn’t matter—but that’s all a moot point, honey, because it does matter and will continue to matter to your husband. The question is, how far are you willing to push it?”

  Randy looked at Midnight, amazed at how simple she made it. All the thoughts and questions, all the anger and frustration, and Midnight summed it up in a simple statement. She thought about what Midnight had said, then shook her head slowl
y. “I don’t know. Do you think Joe would actually let us break up over this?”

  Midnight considered the question for a moment, then nodded slowly. “Yeah, I think he could.”

  “So what am I supposed to do?” Randy asked, anger creeping into her voice. “Am I just supposed to roll over and play dead?”

  Midnight grinned at her. “I guess that depends.”

  “On what?”

  “Two things,” Midnight said, holding up two fingers. “One, how much being a cop means to you, and two, how much Joe means to you.”

  “It’s not that easy!”

  “I didn’t say figuring that out was easy, I just said that it only comes down to those two things. What I say, what anyone else says, doesn’t mean shit. Just do what’s right for you.”

  Randy was quiet for a few minutes. Then, “What if I lose him?” she said quietly. Midnight could hear the tears in her voice, and she wished she could assure Randy that it wouldn’t come to that, but she couldn’t.

  “Randy, that’s the risk you take.” Midnight pulled into the lot at Park Place. She parked next to Randy’s white Jaguar and turned off the engine. She turned to Randy, looking into the younger woman’s eyes. “If you want your independence, it comes with a price tag,” she said seriously, “and that price tag may be as high as losing Joe. But this is the real world, Randy, and no one is going to make you any promises. You have to roll the dice and take your chances just like the rest of us.”

  Randy looked at Midnight for a long moment, surprised at how angry she felt at the other woman’s words. “Why doesn’t that apply to everyone?”

  “It does,” Midnight said matter-of-factly.

  “What about you? You have everything, a husband, a career, a child. Why can’t it be that way for me?” Randy sounded almost childlike, as if she were asking why she didn’t get the dolly that laughed instead of the one that wet its pants.

  Midnight laughed. “Oh yeah, I have it all!” she said harshly. “A husband who’s cheating on me, a career that gives me heartburn, indigestion, and high blood pressure.” She pointed an accusing finger at Randy. “You don’t think I’ve given up anything for my career? Or my life?”

  “What? What have you had to give up?” Randy asked, knowing she was almost being rude, but fighting for some kind of assurance.

  “You want me to be brutally honest here?”

  Randy hesitated for a moment, then nodded slowly.

  “First, I lost my childhood on parents who should never have had kids, then I lost a little bit more when I joined a gang and had to be tough all the time. Then I lost the only person I loved more than myself, when my brother was killed. Next came losing some of my freedoms by becoming a cop, and putting myself in a place where no matter how hard I worked, some man was going to come along and claim I got my position because I slept with someone, or a whole lot of someones. And worst of all”—Midnight narrowed her eyes, staring right at Randy—“I lost Joe, because I had to choose what was right for me, and I couldn’t do the job and be with him. It was that simple.”

  There was complete silence in the car for a long minute. Randy was surprised that Midnight had put Joe on the list, since to Randy’s way of thinking, Midnight was still so close to him. But she realized at that moment how deep Midnight’s feelings went for Joe, and it bothered her, because she had the distinct feeling that Joe’s feelings for his partner were just as deep. And if he had been willing to let Midnight go… Randy didn’t want to think about it. She nodded and muttered a thank you as she blindly reached for the door handle and got out of the car.

  Midnight watched Randy go. She knew she had probably said more than she should have, but she wanted the younger woman to realize that life didn’t have to be fair, and that things weren’t always black and white. Everything was a tradeoff, in some way.

  As Midnight drove home, she flipped around the radio stations, stopping at a classic rock station. Kansas’ “Play the Game Tonight” was on. She loved the song, and as she listened to the words she realized why. It seemed to be the story of her life, exactly as she had just related it to Randy. Part of her felt guilty for putting all of that on her, but she knew Randy needed a serious reality check. She didn’t want the woman going into something thinking everything would work itself out. Midnight reached over and turned the volume up.

  The song played on as Midnight drove back toward the beach. She called Marie from the car phone and told the girl she’d be a little late. She was once again very happy she had taken Deborah’s advice and gotten the au pair. Marie was keeping Mikeyla’s life on an even keel. Midnight felt a stab of guilt, knowing she should be spending more time with her daughter. Promising herself she would, she drove to a spot on the coastline that she loved. It was a rocky cove in the La Jolla Shores area. The waves crashed up to the rocks, and she could sit and watch the seagulls diving for fish. It was a place she liked to go to think. Rick and she had been there a few times together, early on in the relationship. The last year or so had been far too hectic for such reflective moments.

  Now, as she sat, watching the sun sink lower in the sky, she thought about Rick, about what had happened between them the night before. She’d avoided thinking about it the whole day. She knew it was only a strong physical attraction that had caused her to lose all sense of reason; what bothered her was that she could still be attracted to him, knowing what she did about Sheila and his betrayal. She had expected her body to be at least indifferent to him, if not repulsed, with the knowledge that he was most likely sleeping with Sheila every night.

  But it hadn’t, and she’d given in to him so easily, and the lack of control bothered her. She knew Rick was different for her, because her heart was so deeply involved here. She had made a commitment to him, vowed to love and cherish, etcetera, etcetera. But did that mean even when he broke his vows to her? Even when he took her trust and threw it aside like the trash? She’d always deplored women who stayed with men who cheated; she knew that if they had crossed the line once, they’d have no problem crossing it again and again. But she found herself feeling lost and alone, and she hated that feeling.

  She had thought that with Rick she had found someone she could be herself with, someone she could love and who would love her, career and all, faults and all. But he’d ended up resenting her career too. He ended up wanting her to give up the one thing in her life that was really important. Somehow the job had become her crusade, her shrine to her brother, and to all the young men and women whose lives ended senselessly in the street, alone. She wanted to build another gang, a gang of people who stood against anyone and everyone—they did it together, with no sudden turns of violence, no requirement for some sort of initiation. She remembered well her violent initiation into the gang so many years before, the fists, the nails, the rings, all of them seeking to hurt her, to test her to see how much she could take. It had been terrifying and violent, and she didn’t think anyone should have to go through it. FORS was her way of having the family she’d had with the gang, but without the negative parts of gang life. She couldn’t—and wouldn’t—give it up, not for Joe and not for Rick. She even wondered if she would be willing to give it up for Mikeyla. She shied away from thinking about it, hoping it would never come to that. She loved her daughter more than she had ever thought possible.

  When she was pregnant, she had worried endlessly that she wouldn’t feel the things that other women claimed to feel about their babies. She had been afraid that she would see the child as a hindrance to her job. When Mikeyla was born after a very difficult delivery that had almost cost Midnight her own life, Midnight hadn’t really felt anything. She looked down at the little girl and told herself that the baby was her daughter, her flesh and blood. But she hadn’t felt the extreme rush of love that women claimed to have for their babies the moment they laid eyes on them.

  The following weeks were filled with endless feedings, many nights of little or no sleep. It was the only time in Midnight’s life when her job had take
n a back seat for a while. Midnight had been determined to be a good mother. She hadn’t had time then to reflect on whether or not she “loved” her baby; she had just gone on doing what she had to to take care of her. After a couple of months Midnight had gone back to work, and was kept so busy with the two parts of her life she didn’t consider the issue.

  Then, one morning, Midnight got up after hearing Mikeyla’s little noises indicating that she was hungry. Midnight had walked into the little girl’s room, bottle in hand. She had looked down at her fussing daughter, and to her utter shock Mikeyla had smiled at her. It wasn’t the vague smiles the child had been making over the past couple of weeks, the ones that everyone attributed to “gas.” It was a genuine smile. Her baby had looked up at her, recognized her, and smiled at her. Midnight had found herself crying in that moment, because suddenly everything had fallen into place—this was what it was about. This little baby depended on her, loved her no matter what her past was, no matter whether she had a career or not. This baby loved her without conditions. It was the most incredible feeling Midnight had ever had. Everyone else in her life had always wanted something from her, everyone else had had conditions. But Mikeyla didn’t; she just loved her because she was Mommy.

  Thinking about her daughter, Midnight stood from the patch of grass she was sitting on. She got in her car and drove straight home. Once in the driveway, she threw the car into park and all but ran up to the door, throwing it open and calling to her daughter. She heard Mikeyla squeal with delight from the room down the hall, then running feet.

  Within moments Mikeyla barreled down on Midnight. Midnight knelt and opened her arms, and the little girl threw herself into them. Midnight stood, whirling her daughter around as Mikeyla laughed and leaned back to watch the walls spin by. After a moment Midnight stopped, feeling a little dizzy but too happy to care. She hugged her daughter close.