Grace Under Fire

by Jerri Drennen

  “You’re lying. You forget who you’re talking to, Grace. I know you. I think you’re scared of how Cord makes you feel.”

  Why did her sister have to be right all the time? “Listen, Emily. It really doesn’t matter how I feel. Cord regretted kissing me. He didn’t feel anything. Everything he does for me is out of loyalty to Vincent. That’s all. So could we please end this conversation?”

  “All right, but I think you’re wrong.”

  Grace knew better. She remembered the look on Cord’s face. He’d wished it had never happened, and if that were the case, then she’d try to forget it did as well.

  ****

  “Grace Diaglo asked me to come down and see if her husband’s locker has been cleaned out,” Cord said to the desk sergeant on the ground floor of the precinct.

  The pretty uniformed brunette looked up from the paperwork in front of her. “I have to check with the captain on that. Let me call upstairs.”

  Cord thrummed his fingers on the counter as he waited, all the while thinking about how Grace would feel if he found something incriminating inside Vince’s storage locker.

  “The captain said that they usually do, but with the circumstances surrounding Detective Diaglo’s death, they decided to wait for Mrs. Diaglo to get his belongings, and that it would be okay for you to empty the locker.” She smiled sweetly at him. “Do you need something to put his property in?”

  He returned her smile. “Yes, that would be great. Thanks.”

  She reached behind her, grabbed a small cardboard box, and handed it to him.

  Cord took the stairs to the basement. He pushed the locker room door open and sighed, relieved to find it empty. He didn’t need a run-in with anyone he knew right now.

  He located Vince’s locker and opened it, swallowing hard when he saw a picture of Grace on the top shelf.

  Vince must have loved her. Why else would he have her picture there, a framed photo he’d see every time he opened the door?

  Cord had to be wrong about his partner. Heather Pratt had to be carrying someone else’s child.

  Shaking off the thought, Cord reached up and grasped the picture, gently tracing Grace’s generous lips with his finger—lips he knew were as soft as they looked.

  His throat tightened. Before self-disgust overtook him, he leaned down and placed the picture in the box. Fantasizing about her again was just hurting him. She belonged to Vince, even if he was dead.

  Now get back to what you’re here for.

  On the shelf, tucked in the back, Cord came across a handful of papers. He pulled them out and found it was a stack of off-white envelopes, tied together by white cording. The letter on top had Vince’s name scrawled in a delicate script. Feminine handwriting, from what he could tell. Maybe they were letters Grace had written to him when she and Vince were dating?

  Cord turned at the squeak of the locker room door. Mike Tidwell strolled in and stopped dead when he saw Cord.

  “What are you doing down here?”

  Cord tucked the letters in his back pocket, wanting to punch the shit out of Tidwell, but he’d control the urge. For now. The man had some nerve asking Grace out. He was a jerk, one she’d do well to steer clear of.

  “I came down to clean out Vince’s locker.”

  Tidwell’s hazel eyes darkened. “Why didn’t Grace come by herself or ask one of us to do it for her?”

  For some reason, Mike seemed awfully angry over emptying out a locker. He was probably pissed that Grace hadn’t asked him to do the job. He’d no doubt hoped she would come by so he could convince her to go out with him. Maybe he believed Cord was competition.

  “I guess she didn’t have time. She does have a shop to run.”

  Tidwell leaned against the wall and folded his arms across his chest. “Yeah, I know. That’s one thing Vince never did like.”

  What the hell was the man talking about? “Vince was proud of Grace and her consignment shop.”

  Mike shook his head. “Vince certainly wouldn’t tell you how he felt. Mr. By-The-Book, frickin’ Boy Scout.”

  “What are you trying to say? Vince and I were best friends.”

  Tidwell burst out laughing.

  Cord clenched his fist, not seeing any humor in Tidwell’s crap. “Whatever.” He turned his attention to the locker and tossed its contents into the box, anxious to get away from the jerk. Tidwell made his skin crawl.

  “You’d better not try anything with Grace, Rawlings. I have my sights set on her. And if you mess that up, they might be aimed at your head.”

  Cord’s temper ignited. He turned to face Mike. “Was that a threat, Tidwell?”

  The man shrugged. “Call it a healthy observation.”

  “Go crawl back under a rock.” Cord picked up the box and headed for the door.

  “At least my mother wasn’t a whore.”

  The cutting words stopped Cord in his tracks. He faced Tidwell again. “What was that?”

  “Hell, everyone at the Ninth knows what your mother was. It’s been a running joke since Vince started it.”

  Intense pain ricocheted in Cord’s heart. “You’re lying.”

  “Right.” Tidwell’s eyes glistened with amusement. “You keep telling yourself that.”

  Cord slammed out of the locker room. A bunch of lies were all the man spewed. Vince had been his friend. He wouldn’t have gone behind Cord’s back to reveal something so personal. Besides, Vince knew nothing about his mother. Tidwell was just trying to start a fight, but Cord wasn’t about to let him desecrate Vince’s memory or the friendship they’d shared, no matter what anyone said.

  ****

  Cord’s gaze darted around the shop. Emily stood behind the counter. “Where’s Grace?”

  “She went to pick up a package from the post office.”

  “I told her I didn’t want her going off by herself.”

  Emily grimaced. “She didn’t expect you back for a while.”

  “Are you okay? You look kind of pale.”

  “False contractions. I’ve been having them all day.”

  “Maybe you should sit down.” Pregnant women made Cord nervous. They were too unpredictable.

  Emily headed for the chair, but doubled over, gripping her belly.

  Cord raced to her side. “What’s going on?”

  “I think I’m in labor,” she managed through gritted teeth. Emily screamed, flinching with pain.

  Now what? Think, Cord. “We have to get you to the hospital.”

  Emily shook her head. “I think it’s too late.” Tears were threatening in her panic-stricken eyes. “Call an am...bul...ance.” She doubled over. “Now!”

  Cord picked up the phone and punched nine-one-one.

  Emily cried out again, this time bringing the hairs up on the back of his neck.

  “Nine-one-one,” a female voice said over the phone.

  “I have a woman in labor. She’s about to have her baby, right now,” Cord said shakily.

  “We have an ambulance on the way, sir. Now, are you the father?”

  “God, no!” Cord was never so thankful for that fact.

  Emily bellowed again, drawing him back to her side.

  “Cord, the baby’s coming.”

  “No, it can’t. The ambulance isn’t here yet.”

  “I don’t think that matters to him.”

  Cord took a quick, calming breath and thought back to his police training.

  “All right, we need clean sheets. Do you have anything?”

  “We have a few clean crib sheets. Over there.” She pointed, grimacing when another contraction hit her.

  Cord dropped the receiver onto the counter and rushed to get them, thinking about what else he needed to deliver this baby. “How about string?” he asked when he returned.

  “We have some package string behind the counter.”

  Cord ran to yank it from the shelf, then picked up the phone. “How long until they arrive?”

  “Five minutes.”

 
“That’s too damn long.”

  He threw the phone back down and went to help Emily out of her shorts and onto the crib sheet, keeping a spare linen next to him to wrap the baby in once it was delivered.

  “I—feel—it—coming, Cord!” Emily bellowed.

  Cord took another deep breath. “Did you take a class on delivery?”

  “Yes, why?”

  “Isn’t there some kind of breathing exercise you should be doing?”

  Her eyes darkened, then narrowed to tiny slits. “Here, give me your hand,” she insisted.

  Confused, Cord placed his hand in hers. She squeezed, then released it and said, “Could you breathe through that?”

  He flinched and rubbed his hand. He couldn’t believe a woman could inflict such intense pain, especially one in labor.

  A piercing scream brought him back to his immediate dilemma. He was going to have to do this.

  He glanced down and saw the head crowning. “Okay, Emily, let’s have a baby.”

  Grace Under Fire

  Chapter Twelve

  Grace’s heart stopped when she saw an ambulance and police car parked in front of Lightly Seasoned.

  A dozen horrible possibilities raced through her mind. A robbery, Emily dead, or dying on the floor. She should have never left her alone. How could she live with herself if something happened to her sister?

  She quickly parked the car and raced for the front door. A uniformed officer stood just outside the entrance, blocking her way.

  “Let me in. My sister’s in there,” she insisted, pushing her way through.

  Inside, Emily lay on a stretcher. In her arms she held a bundle wrapped in an elephant-print sheet.

  Several paramedics hovered around her, one pumping up a blood pressure cuff on her arm. Cord stood to the side, wiping something red off his hands onto another sheet. Had he delivered Emily’s baby?

  Grace rushed to her sister’s side. “What happened?”

  Emily sighed. “Well, right after you left, I went into labor. Cord came just in time to deliver Jacob.” She pulled the sheet away from her son’s face. The infant was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen.

  Grace touched a wisp of feather-soft blonde hair on his head, emotion clogging her throat. “Oh, Emily. He’s perfect.”

  “Yes, he is. He has ten fingers and toes and the most beautiful blue eyes I’ve ever seen.”

  A young paramedic interrupted them. “We have to get the new mother and baby to the hospital now.”

  “Okay. I’ll see you there in a few minutes. I’ll just lock up.” Grace squeezed her hand. “Oh, and I’ll call Charlie.”

  “God, in all the excitement, I forgot all about him. Tell him our son’s beautiful for me.”

  Grace nodded. “I will.”

  They rolled the stretcher out the door, and Grace glanced at Cord, who smiled weakly at her.

  She walked over to him. “Thank you for being here. I’d hate to think about what would have happened if she’d been alone.”

  The shop became quiet, almost suffocating.

  He shrugged. “All in a day’s work. My first delivery, though, and I’d be lying if I said it didn’t scare the shit out of me. You’d better call Emily’s husband. He’ll want to get to the hospital to see his family.”

  Grace nodded and hurried to the phone, anxious and excited to relay the news to her brother-in-law.

  She was an aunt now. Tender emotions filled her. Unconditional love so intense her knees almost buckled.

  Next, she’d call her parents to make arrangements for their visit.

  Maybe the distraction of her mom and dad was just what she needed right now. Hopefully with them around, she’d stop thinking about Cord and the overpowering effect he had on her.

  ****

  Cord paced the hospital waiting room, stopping to look at a pamphlet on childbirth, anxious to see Grace again. They’d arrived on the ward at the same time as Charlie, and she and her brother-in-law had been in with Emily since.

  “Here.” Grace held out a steaming foam cup to Cord. “I thought you could use some coffee.”

  He grasped the cup. “Thanks.” He removed the lid and took a sip. “How are Emily and the baby doing?”

  “They’re just fine. Thanks to you.” She smiled. “Is there anything you can’t do?”

  He cocked an eyebrow. “I’m sure there are a lot of things.”

  “I don’t know. You can cook and clean up after yourself, not to mention protect me from unknown perverts. Vince was definitely right about you. You are a good man to have around.”

  Grace’s words brought Cord back to Tidwell’s earlier comments. Had Vince actually felt that way about him, or was it all an act, like Mike had suggested?

  “He said that, huh?”

  “Yes, he did. Vincent told me you were a great cop.”

  “I’m glad he thought that. He was a damned good cop himself.” Cord only hoped that Vince had been a good husband, too.

  “Are you ready to go? I thought maybe we could stop somewhere and have dinner.”

  She nodded. “That would be nice.”

  “Good. I know this little Italian place. Do you like pasta?”

  Her green eyes lit up. “Love it.”

  On the way to the elevator, Cord asked, “Did you ever get a hold of your parents?”

  “No. I tried several times. I left a message on their machine. It’s strange, but I haven’t been able to get a hold of them since they left after Vince’s funeral. I always get their machine, but I’m sure they’ll call me at home later. Would it be all right if we came by the hospital early in the morning to bring the quilt I made Jacob?”

  He smiled, then punched the down button. “Sure, no problem.”

  “I’ll have to run the store by myself since Emily will be recuperating for awhile.”

  Cord hadn’t thought of that. He wouldn’t be able to leave her alone. At least until they caught the sick bastard who’d been watching her.

  Mike Tidwell came to mind again. Maybe he was the one trying to get a peek at Grace in the nude. He was definitely demented enough to do something like that, and obviously he had a thing for her. The idea made sense. He just had to catch the man in the act, then Cord could put him and this nonsense about Vince away.

  At the restaurant, he parked the car and came around to open Grace’s door.

  He planned to relax and have a nice meal. Forget about Vince, Tidwell, and anything else for one evening and enjoy being with Grace. This was a dream come true for him, spending time with the prettiest woman he’d ever known.

  Tonight, she glowed with renewed life. Her new nephew was clearly a blessing, one that seemed to have pulled her out of the despair her husband’s death had left her in. She actually looked happy for the first time since he’d been back.

  When they were seated at the restaurant, Cord glanced around, grimacing when he saw a familiar face. Jack Neil sat at a far table with another man whose back was to Cord. Neil was the last person he’d expected to see. Jack looked up from his food and saw them. He whispered something to the man he was with.

  “Grace, maybe we should go somewhere else to eat.”

  “Why?” She turned her head and obviously knew his reason. “What’s going on with you and Neil? Why do you hate him so much?”

  “He’s a crook. That’s all I’m going to say.” Cord wasn’t about to tell her he had a gut feeling Neil was involved in Vince’s death. It was just a hunch, and it would only upset her. She was too happy right now. He didn’t want to ruin that.

  “What’s he done?” Grace drew his attention back to her.

  “Nothing that you’d need to know.”

  “Right. Police business is for cops’ ears only. How many times have I heard that? The month before Vincent died, that’s all he’d say when I asked him why he had to go out in the evenings. Can you tell me what you two were working on?”

  Cord wasn’t sure he’d heard her right. Vince had gone out after he got off-duty?
Had he used work as an excuse to see Heather Pratt? Vince hadn’t been assigned to any undercover stakeouts. That was one thing he knew for sure after talking to Captain Harris.

  “Most of the work we do, Grace, is covert. Don’t take this personally, but I can’t tell you.”

  It was torture to keep lying to her, and that list of untruths was getting longer by the day. Guilt did strange things to his stomach, leaving him with a dull, aching pain. Like a burning ulcer. Hell, maybe he was getting one. But he couldn’t say a thing to Grace until he knew if his suspicions were correct.

  “In all the excitement, I forgot to ask about what you found in Vincent’s locker.”

  Cord couldn’t tell her the truth, especially with the stack of letters he hadn’t gotten a chance to look through yet. Before he handed them over to her, he had to make sure they were from her.

  “Not much.” He shifted uncomfortably. “I threw it all into a box. It’s in my trunk. I’ll get it out when we get home.”

  Home . Why did that sound like music to his ears? He’d never had one. Not really. When he was young, they’d moved every time his mother had gotten three or four months behind in the rent, sneaking out in the middle of the night to dupe the landlord. They’d spend a few weeks living out of her car until she’d come up with some money to rent another place. It had been a lifestyle for her, one he’d been unhappily forced into.

  “I’d really like to see what’s in it.” Grace laid her hand on his. “Thank you for thinking of it.”

  Electricity shot up his arm and quickly moved to his belly.

  He’d never had such a strong reaction to a woman. He could still feel her lips on his, taste her sweetness. He wished he could think of her as a friend. It certainly would make this situation a lot easier, but then again, Grace had always had a special place in his heart—from the moment he’d met her.

  ****

  Grace sat Indian-style on her bed, the cardboard box containing Vince’s locker contents in front of her. She reached inside. On top were his gym clothes and sneakers.

  She grimaced, wondering the last time they had been washed.