Protecting His Witness

by Marie Ferrarella

  "All depends on who you think it is," Zack answered, doing his best to curb his impatience. He peered at the badge and added, "Officer Royce," to make the conversation seem more personal and hopefully bring it to a speedy end. Right now, he wanted to hear what Kasey had to tell him, not play twenty questions with a wet-behind-the-ears rookie.

  "Carmine Pasquale." The large patrolman squatted down beside the body to get a closer look. "It is. It's the head guy himself." Rising again, he glanced at Zack, awe shining in his brown eyes. "You really bagged a big one, Detective. They said that this guy has—had—more lives than a cat."

  "Looks like he finally ran out, doesn't it?" Frank commented from across the room.

  More law enforcement officers arrived, cramming into the small house. Police personnel, people from the crime scene investigation unit as well as from the coroner's office all vied for space and elbow room. Two paramedics were the last on the scene.

  "Sorry, boys," Zack said when he saw the two attendants making their way to the room, angling a gumey between them. "There's nothing left to resuscitate. All Pasquale needs now is a standard-issue body bag."

  The lead paramedic stopped. "You're sure?"

  "I'm sure," Zack responded.

  The paramedic nodded, signaling for the attendant behind him to go back and fetch the body bag. "Well, at least it saves on paperwork," he said philosophically.

  Working his way around the gurney, Frank came to Zack, his hand extended toward the gun Zack still held. "I'm going to have to take your gun, Zack." He sounded apologetic. "Protocol."

  Zack laughed shortly, surrendering the weapon. "Don't explain protocol to me, Francis. I'm the one who taught you, remember." Humor curved his mouth. "By the way, don't forget to hand over your own gun. There were two shots, remember? I only fired once."

  "How do we work this?" Frank asked. "Do I give you mine?"

  Zack laughed. "In this case, we hand them both over to the captain."

  Kasey's eyes finally shifted from the figure on the floor. In death, Pasquale somehow looked even more menacing than he had in life. She shivered and ran her hands over her arms. If anything, the room was growing too warm from all the people in it. But inside, she was still shaking almost uncontrollably as if she'd never get warm again.

  She tried to distract herself. "You have to surrender your guns?" she asked, puzzled.

  Zack nodded. Police procedure wasn't exactly the topic he wanted to pursue with her. "IAB's way of keeping everyone honest and in-line. Every time we fire our guns, we have to account for the bullets."

  Kasey shrugged, thinking he was describing unnecessary harassment. "That's easy enough," she interjected. "The bullets are in him."

  "And then," he continued, hiding his amusement at her response, "if we shoot someone, it's up to IAB to determine whether or not it was 'a good shoot.'"

  This was getting pretty involved and complicated, she thought. Unnecessarily so as far as she was concerned. Didn't the police department trust its own people? And then she thought of the detective who'd shot Jim. Maybe there were reasons to be suspicious.

  "Meaning what?"

  He slipped his arm around her shoulders. God, but it felt good just to hold her like this. He could have lost her tonight. If he hadn't looked up just then and seen Pasquale slipping in through the front door, she could be the one on the floor instead of the wise guy chieftain.

  "That I didn't just shoot someone because I was having a bad day," he explained patiently, "or because I didn't like the way he parted his hair. There has to be the threat of imminent danger."

  She took a breath, desperate to steady her nerves. They remained jangled. When was it going to stop? When was she finally going to feel calm? This couldn't be good for the baby. "Does keeping him from shooting me count as a good enough reason?"

  A low, warm laugh rippled in his throat and he pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Most definitely." He wanted some time alone with her, if only a few minutes. He glanced over his shoulder at Frank. "Can you fill these guys in on everything?"

  "No problem." Frank waved him on. "Get your girl out of here."

  "Your girl?" Kasey echoed as Zack began to steer her past all the people who had come to fill her house. The paramedics were waiting to take the body, but the photographer from CSI hadn't finished digitally recording the scene yet. "Is that what I am?"

  Reaching the front door, Zack opened it and took her outside. Privacy was at a premium out here, as well. Zack ushered her over to one side, out of the way of foot traffic.

  Facing her, he told her, "I'm not sure how to answer that."

  She'd come too far to back off. She needed to know. "Because you don't know how you feel about that?"

  "No, because I don't know how you feel about the label. If someone called my sister Riley his girl, she would balk at that and say that it made her feel like property."

  A small smile curved her lips. "So you're being sensitive to my feelings, is that it?"

  He nodded. "Something like that. I don't want to risk upsetting you, especially after what you've just been through." Instead of responding, he saw Kasey pinch herself. "What are you doing?"

  "Seeing what it takes to wake me up," she replied simply.

  "Wake you up? Why? You're not asleep."

  "Maybe not," she conceded, "but I am dreaming." And then her smile deepened. "Because you're too good to be true."

  "That man almost killed you," he pointed out sternly. "I think that alone would qualify this as a nightmare, not a dream."

  "It's not a nightmare if someone rushes in to save me at the last minute," she corrected. She ran her palm along his cheek. Deep affection swelled in her chest. "Then it's a fantasy come true."

  "Next time we'll play pirates," he deadpanned. "With rubber swords." He was relieved to hear her laugh, really laugh. Zack slipped his arm around her waist. "You were going to tell me something before the entire Aurora police department started pouring into your house."

  She shook her head. Maybe now wasn't the right time. She had no idea how he was going to react to the news and for now she just wanted to savor being with him like this. "It can keep."

  But he had seen the serious look on her face and had drawn his own conclusions. Conclusions that told him he wasn't going to like what he heard. Before she had turned his life completely upside down, he would have said fine and gone along with her decision to table whatever it was she'd been about to say. He would have had no desire to hear things better left unsaid. But that was the old Zack. The new Zack wanted to face life prepared. And if the news she was about to impart was bad, he wanted to know what it was so that he could find a way to turn it around.

  He took his best guess about her unvoiced thoughts. "Now that you have your life back, you're going away, aren't you?"

  Zack's question, completely off base, threw her. "What?"

  "That's what you were going to tell me, wasn't it? Now that no one is out to kill you anymore, now that you're safe, you want to go back to pick up the threads of your life." And even as he said it, he knew that there was no way he was going to let her just walk away from him, not without putting up a damn good fight.

  "Since you're so good at being a detective, you must know that all those 'threads' you have me going back to unraveled rather badly." There was nothing in Kensington for her any longer. Her life was here now—with a few minor changes. "Except for my grandmother, I have no reason to go back. And my grandmother could easily be persuaded to move to a city where the hospital care is superior to that of Mercy General. You've got some pretty first-rate facilities here."

  The weight that had been pressing down on him vanished, just like that. "Then you're not going back to Kensington?"

  "Is that disappointment I hear in your voice?" she asked, just barely able to keep a straight face.

  "Are you crazy?" Overjoyed, Zack picked her up and enthusiastically spun her around.

  "Hey, Zack, easy with our witness," Frank called out, seeing them through
the window he'd just opened. "She's turning a little green on us."

  Frank was right. The sudden motion had a very bad effect on the perpetually unsettled pit of her stomach. Not to mention that her head was spinning, as well. She braced her hands on Zack's shoulders and urgently instructed, "Put me down."

  The moment that he did, she made a mad dash back into the house, going straight to the bathroom.

  Concerned, Zack quickly followed in her wake, only to have the bathroom door slammed shut in his face.

  "Kasey, are you all right?" he demanded through the closed door. She didn't answer him immediately and he could have sworn he heard her retching, even if the sound was muffled by all the other noise that was abounding around him. "Kasey?" Worried now, he tried the door and discovered that she'd locked it. "Kasey, open the door. Open the door," he repeated. "Don't make me knock it down."

  Finished with the coroner, Frank came over to his brother. "Hey, what the hell did you do to her?" he wanted to know.

  "Nothing," Zack snapped. "She just—" He didn't get to finish. The door opened and Kasey stepped out. He'd never seen her face look so pale, not even when he'd rushed in earlier when Pasquale was after her. "My God, Kasey, you look whiter than snow." He took hold of her hand. "I'm taking you to the hospital to have you checked out."

  She pulled her hand away. "There's no need to check me out," she retorted. She knew exactly what was wrong with her and it had nothing to do with having had her life in jeopardy.

  Zack paid no attention to her protest. "This whole ordeal would have been a lot for anyone to handle. I can't even begin to imagine what you've been through. There's no shame in having your system suddenly rebel on you," he told her, believing that her pride made her stubbornly refuse hospital care. "They'll run a few tests, give you a once-over, see what's wrong. And I'll stay with you the entire time," he promised.

  But Kasey shook her head. Again, she pulled her hand away from his. "There's no need for any of that. I know what's wrong with me."

  "Look, just because you're a doctor doesn't mean you know everything."

  "No argument," she granted. "But in this case, I do." It looked as if he was going to have to find out, even if this wasn't the proper place or time, she thought. Otherwise, he just might carry her off to the hospital, firefighter style. She turned toward his brother. At least she could try to secure a little privacy. "Frank, can you give us a minute?"

  Frank instantly complied, backing away, his hands raised as if surrendering his right to any information. "I wasn't even here."

  Taking Zack's hand, she drew him back outside, this time through the rear entrance. Where they had first encountered each other. Or, more accurately, where she had encountered him. As for his part, she doubted if Zack remembered anything about those first few minutes.

  "Doesn't matter what you say," he addressed the back of her head, "I'm still planning on taking you to the hospital."

  Gathering her courage to her, she stopped walking and turned to face him. Her mouth instantly became horribly dry. She had to force the words out. Her voice sounded tinny to her ear.

  "I'm pregnant."

  Zack stared at her without saying a word. It looked, for a moment as if he'd lost the ability to process the English language or even understand it. Finally, his voice returned. "What did you say?"

  "I'm pregnant," she repeated. "Don't worry, I'm not asking for anything. I don't expect you to—"

  Zack suddenly snapped out of his trance as the import of what she'd just told him sank in. "Marry me."

  She thought he was filling in the rest of her statement. "Right. I don't expect you to marry me or even to—"

  "Marry me," Zack repeated as something akin to colored strobe lights began to flash and mingle inside of his head.

  She was having a tough time ignoring his interruptions. Why was he doing this to her? Didn't he understand that she was trying her best to be fair to him and to the baby?

  "—have any responsibility for the baby," she doggedly continued, "which I'm going to raise as—"

  He grasped her by the shoulders in an effort to get her attention. She wasn't listening, he thought, frustrated and elated at the same time.

  "Marry me," he said for the third time, more insistently this time.

  Kasey stopped dead and looked into his eyes. "Are you asking me to—"

  "Yes!" he almost shouted, desperate to get his proposal across to her. He was not prepared for her response.

  "No."

  He'd never asked anyone to marry him before. Never wanted to commit to anyone before. Now that he had, he'd assumed that the answer would be a positive one. He never thought he'd be turned down.

  He felt numb. "What?"

  Shrugging out of his grasp, Kasey squared her shoulders and repeated, "No."

  Stunned, he could only stare at her. She loved him, he was certain of it. She'd even said so herself. Was it fear that kept her from saying yes? Or was it something else?

  "Why?"

  She could feel herself fidgeting inside. More than anything she wanted to say "yes." But she couldn't. He was asking her to marry him for all the wrong reasons. She refused to have someone marry her out of a sense of obligation. She couldn't live with that on her conscience. This wasn't the fifties or the sixties anymore. Plenty of single mothers out there. She'd just join their ranks.

  "Because you don't have to."

  "But I want to," he insisted. Didn't she know that? Couldn't she feel it?

  "I don't want you to do this out of some kind of misbegotten sense of obligation," she told him, a surge of anger emerging out of nowhere.

  "But it's not."

  Did he think she was that stupid? With an angry huff, she drew him a diagram. "You didn't ask me before you knew about the baby."

  But it had been on his mind, he admitted silently. It had been there for a while, taking shape, amid his thoughts. He probably should have said something, but he hadn't wanted to rush it. And he wanted to be sure. He was sure now.

  Besides, there had been other things taking center stage up until now.

  "You might have noticed I was a little busy trying to save your life." And then he looked down at her flat abdomen, a horrifying thought suddenly occurring to him. She'd been banged around a bit. "Pasquale didn't hurt the baby, did he?"

  Despite her protests, his concern, his question, struck her as incredibly sweet.

  "It's the size of an underdeveloped pine nut right now." She smiled. "Pasquale would have had to have gone in with a tiny nutcracker to do any damage."

  That only put him slightly at ease. "You're still getting checked out," he insisted, then added, "After you say yes."

  If he kept asking, she was going to break down and say yes—because she wanted to, more than anything. But she still wasn't convinced that he wasn't doing it out of some old-fashioned notion of right and wrong. She'd already seen that he came from that kind of a family.

  "Zack, really, you don't have to marry me," she insisted.

  He put his arms around her and drew her closer. After a moment, she stopped resisting. "Yeah, I do."

  "Why?" she asked again. As far as she was concerned, there was only one good reason to get married.

  "Because I love you, that's why."

  And that was it. Hearing him say it, really say it, left her stunned. "You love me?"

  It amazed him that a woman as intuitive as Kasey was had missed this completely. "Of course I love you. Why do you think I've been sitting out there, watching your place every night when I hate surveillance? Having Frank tail you when I wasn't around?"

  She pressed her lips together, feeling her will to resist ebbing swiftly away. "I don't know. Why?"

  "Because I love you," he repeated, almost shouting the words.

  The next moment, the back door opened and Frank stuck his head out. "We get it, Zack, you love her. Now move on and say something more romantic."

  Zack frowned. Family or not, he didn't need these kinds of interruptions. "Shut
the damn door, Frank."

  Frank sighed, shaking his head. "Nope, that wasn't it."

  "The door, Frank. Now!" Frank quickly withdrew, complying. As the door closed again, Zack looked back at Kasey. He framed her face with his hands, as if he was trying to memorize all the contours of her face. "You saved my life, Kasey."

  "I'm a doctor," she reminded him. "That means I'm supposed to—"

  "I'm not talking about the bullet you removed. I'm talking about the heart you jump-started."

  When he stopped, as if he was struggling with something, she said, "Go on."

  He might as well tell her everything, he thought. He meant it when he'd said that there were to be no more secrets. "My father was an abusive man. He made my mother's life a living hell. I was afraid that I'd wind up being just like him no matter how much I tried not to be. But I never cared about anyone enough to test that theory. Never let myself care," he admitted. "And then you came along and I found myself caring a lot more than I thought was ever humanly possible." His mouth curved as he looked into her eyes. "Found myself loving a lot more than I thought I ever could—and not turning into my father. All I want to do is make you happy."

  Her insides felt as if they were immersed in sunshine. "Well, you're certainly on the right road for that."

  "Then you'll marry me?"

  Her smile widened. "What do you think?"

  "I think I'm still taking you to the hospital to check you out—later," he qualified as he lowered his mouth to hers. "A lot later."

  "And can I call my grandmother on the way there?" His lips all but brushed against hers as he said, "Absolutely."

  And she was perfectly fine with that.

  * * *

  SILHOUETTE BOOKS

  PROTECTING HIS WITNESS

  Copyright © 2008 by Marie Rydzynski-Ferrarella

  Visit Silhouette Books at www.eHarlequin.com