Mr. Thunderhawk dismissed her argument with a wave of his hand. “Bundy was crazy.”
“I believe the same thing was said about Picasso, Edison and Einstein,” Andi returned. “Yet, look at the contributions they made to the world.”
He snorted a laugh and picked up his glass. “I notice that none of your examples was involved in law enforcement.”
Gabe scraped back his chair. “On that pleasant note,” he said as he reached for Andi’s hand, “I believe we’ll say our goodbyes.”
Now Andi understood the impetus behind Gabe’s drive to succeed and rather respected him for it. With a father who constantly berated his choice of career and taunted him with his other sons’ successes, he could have just as easily folded under the criticism and become a deadbeat.
But understanding what drove Gabe didn’t make her feel any better about ruining his nephew’s first birthday party.
She stole a glance his way. His jaw was hard as steel, his hands clenched around the steering wheel as if it were someone’s throat. They were almost home and he hadn’t said a word throughout the entire trip. Yet, neither had she.
“Gabe—”
“Don’t say it,” he snapped, cutting her off.
She frowned. “How do you know what I was going to say?”
“You were going to apologize, and it isn’t necessary.”
“Yes, it is. I never should have said those things to your father. I ruined your nephew’s birthday party.”
He shook his head. “You didn’t ruin anything. The same argument would’ve taken place whether you were there or not.” He shot a glance her way. “Although, I was really impressed with the Ted Bundy angle.” He snorted a laugh. “I bet the old man is still chewing on that one.”
Andi found herself smiling, in spite of her guilt. “No offense, but your father is a sanctimonious snob.”
“None taken, because he is.” He glanced her way again, then reached to haul her across the seat. With his gaze on the road, he draped an arm around her shoulders and hugged her against his side. “Thanks for coming to my defense. You didn’t have to do that.”
“How could I not? Law enforcement is my profession, too. There was no way I was going to just sit there and let him take potshots at you when the bullets were hitting me, too.”
He dropped a kiss on the top of her head. “Don’t take it personally. He’s so blinded by what he considers my failures, I doubt he even realized he was insulting you, too.”
She laid a hand on his thigh. “You’re not a failure, Gabe. Don’t ever allow your father to make you believe you are.”
He drew back to look at her in mock surprise. “Was that actually a compliment I heard coming from the lips of Detective Andrea Matthews?”
She winced. “Have I really been that hard on you?”
“Do bears sh—”
She clamped a hand over his mouth. “Okay. I get the point. But if I’ve been hard on you, it isn’t because I doubt your ability. I just question your methods.”
“Methods?” he repeated. “I follow procedure.”
“Technically, yes. But teamwork is important, and you seem to prefer working alone.”
“If the job gets done, what does it matter if one person accomplishes it or eight?”
She drew in a deep breath, searching for a noncombative explanation. “In the months we’ve been working together it’s never been an issue, but there are times when I need to know that I can count on my partner to cover my back.”
“And you don’t think you can count on me?”
“I don’t know whether I can or not. That’s the problem. There have been several times when you struck out on your own and left me hanging.”
“We were interviewing people. You weren’t in any danger.”
“You don’t know that. Even the most innocent situation can turn deadly.”
Scowling, he withdrew his arm from around her shoulders and returned his hand to the wheel. “Okay. I get your point.”
“Dammit!”
“Andi?” Gabe dropped the newspaper he’d just opened and broke into a run. “What’s wrong?” he asked as he burst into her bedroom. He skidded to a stop, staring. Her room looked like a cyclone had hit it. The linens on her bed were in shreds, and feathers from the pillows covered every surface and floated around his feet. A knife was buried to its hilt in the center of her mattress.
He slowly turned his gaze to the dresser where Andi stood, her back to him, staring at the mirror. Across its surface was scrawled in red lipstick the word whore.
He quickly crossed the room caught her arm, drawing her away. “Pack a bag,” he ordered. “We’re going to my place.”
She jerked free. “I’m not going anywhere.”
He grabbed her arm and spun her around to face him. “Think, Andi,” he said sternly. “If this was happening to someone else, you wouldn’t allow her to stay here. You’d put her somewhere safe. Someplace where this psycho couldn’t harm her.”
“I’m a detective,” she reminded him furiously.
“And a damn good one. But this isn’t happening to someone else. It’s happening to you, and because it is, you’re not thinking straight. Now tell me honestly. If this was happening to someone else, what would you tell her to do?”
She glared at him another two seconds, then dropped her chin to her chest. “Leave.”
He released her and turned away. “While you pack, I’ll put in the call to the station, then take a look around.”
After arriving at the cabin, Gabe talked Andi into taking a nap with him, then, as soon as he was sure she was asleep, he snuck out. He didn’t wake her to tell her where he planned to go or even that he was leaving. If he had, she would have insisted on going with him.
And this was a job that Gabe intended to handle on his own.
It didn’t take him long to track down Dudley Harris. Two phone calls and he was headed to the Oasis, a seedy little bar just outside Red Rock city limits, where he’d learned Dudley hung out.
Gabe stepped inside the Oasis and paused, letting his eyes adjust to the change in light. Smoke hung like a cloud in the room. Beneath it lay the rancid odor of old grease and stale beer. He quickly spotted Dudley at a pool table in the back. He ordered a beer, then strolled back for a chat.
“Hey, Dudley.”
Bent over a cue stick, sizing up a shot, Dudley glanced up, then back down. “Whadda ya want?”
“Talk. Seems we have a friend in common.”
“And who would that be?” Dudley asked.
“Detective Andrea Matthews.”
Scowling, Dudley rammed his cue stick against the cue ball. It cracked against the three ball and sent it spinning into the side pocket. “She ain’t no friend of mine,” he muttered. “Bitch sent me up for two years.”
“Bet that pissed you off.”
“Damn right,” he said, then narrowed an eye at Gabe. “Who’d you say you were?”
“Didn’t. Where were you earlier today?”
“Workin’. Parole officer found me a job at the box factory. Got off at five.” His eyes sharpened, then narrowed. “Hey, I know who you are. You’re that Indian cop.”
Before Dudley had a chance to react, Gabe had him up against the wall with a forearm braced against his throat.
“Who I am doesn’t matter,” he said through clenched teeth. “That I’m Detective Matthews’s friend is what you need to remember. If you so much as look in her direction again, you’ll be spitting blood for a week.”
Glass broke behind him and Gabe dropped low, then spun, kicking out as he straightened. His boot hit Dudley’s pool partner square in the chest and sent him hurtling back, the broken beer bottle he held flying. He whirled to face Dudley again, but was a second too late. Dudley’s fist connected with his jaw, and he stumbled back, tasting blood. He gave his head a shake to clear it, then bent at the waist and charged, catching Dudley in the stomach and taking him down.
Out of the corner of his eye, he
saw the bartender coming toward him, a bat gripped in his hand. Digging a knee into Dudley’s neck, he pulled his badge from his pocket and held it up. “Officer Gabe Thunderhawk,” he announced loud enough for everyone in the bar to hear him. “Red Rock Police.”
The bartender backed off and Gabe turned his full attention to Dudley.
“Now I’m only going to say this once, so listen close. If I get wind that you’ve been anywhere near Detective Matthews, I’ll have your ass on a bus for Huntsville so fast you’ll be in a cell before the warden even knows you’re there.” He rammed his knee harder against Dudley’s throat. “Understand?”
Dudley clawed at Gabe’s leg, fighting for air. “Okay,” he croaked. “Just get off me.”
Slowly coming awake, Andi burrowed close, seeking Gabe’s warmth. When she found only cool sheets, she opened her eyes and sat up. “Gabe?” When he didn’t answer, she rolled from the bed and headed for the stairs.
“Gabe?” she called as she jogged down the steps. Just as she reached the kitchen, the back door opened and Gabe walked in.
“Where did you—” She stopped and stared, then hurried toward him. “What happened to you?” she cried.
He ducked around her and headed for the sink. “It’s nothing.” He twisted on the tap, cupped a hand beneath the water, then brought it to his mouth. He rinsed, spit, then let out a sigh as the bloody water washed down the drain.
She snatched up a towel and held it out to him. “Don’t tell me nothing, when it’s obvious you’ve been in a fight.”
Turning, he braced his hips against the edge of the counter and dragged the towel over his face, wincing when it struck the cut on his jaw. “I went to talk to Dudley Harris,” he admitted.
“Why? Did you find something at my house that you didn’t tell me about?”
He shook his head. “No, but I wasn’t going to wait around for you to get hurt before trying to find who’s responsible for this.” He shrugged a shoulder. “So I went to talk to Dudley.”
“I’d say you did a little more than talk.”
He worked his jaw, testing the soreness. “Dudley’s not much for conversation. For that matter, neither is his friend.”
“You fought two men?”
“The friend never got in a blow. He got my attention when he broke his beer bottle. I put him out of commission before he had a chance to use it.”
She balled her hands into fist, fighting back tears. “I don’t know whether to slug you or hug you.”
“Personally, I vote for the hug. I’ve taken enough punches for one day.”
She flung her arms around him and held him tight. “Do you know how foolish that was? How dangerous? You could’ve been seriously hurt.”
He drew back to meet her gaze. “But I wasn’t,” he reminded her. “I did manage to eliminate one of our suspects, though. Dudley said he was at work today. I checked his story with his supervisor, who verified that Dudley didn’t leave work until five.”
She moved away, her forehead creased with worry. “If not Dudley, then who?” She shot him a warning look over her shoulder. “And don’t say Deirdre. I refuse to believe that she would do anything to hurt me.”
He held up his hands. “You’re the one who brought up her name. Not me.”
She turned to face him, her jaw set in a stubborn line. “Take me home.”
“No way.”
“I’ve got to clean up the mess. I should have done it before I left.”
He caught her hand and drew her back into his arms. “We can do it tomorrow.” He cupped his hands on her buttocks and dipped his face to hers. “Tonight I have other plans for you.”
Gabe lay on his side, braced on one elbow. Andi lay on her stomach beside him, her cheek pillowed by her folded hands, her face turned away. The moon was full and streamed through the open window, bathing his bed in a silvery glow.
Pensive, he trailed a finger down her back, from the base of her neck to the tip of her tailbone. “What made you decide to become a detective?”
“My dad was one. And, no,” she said before he could ask, “he didn’t force me to follow in his footsteps like your father tried to make you do.”
She turned her opposite cheek to her hands and smiled softly as if at a fond memory. “My mother died just after I was born, so it was always just Dad and me. I was practically raised at the police station. Everything about it fascinated me. Solving cases seemed like a game. You gather all the pieces of the puzzle, then try to fit them together to find the answer. What about you? Why did you choose law enforcement?”
“It wasn’t to spite my father, though you’ll never be able to convince him of that.” He thought for a moment, then dropped his gaze to hide a smile. “This is probably gonna sound hokey, but I wanted to make a difference. Make the world a safer place to live.”
“I don’t think that’s hokey at all. It’s a shame more officers don’t feel that way. Some wear the badge for the power it gives them. Others just want the paycheck.”
“Yeah,” he said sadly. “I know what you mean.”
Her eyes brightening, she rolled to her side and propped her head on her hand. “If you had your pick of jobs, what would you choose to do?”
“That’s no secret. Detective. Preferably homicide. What about you?”
“Promise you won’t laugh?”
“Promise.”
“A private investigator.”
He rolled to his back and hooted a laugh at the ceiling.
She swatted his chest. “You promised you wouldn’t laugh.”
“Yeah, but that’s before I knew what you were going to say.”
“Jerk,” she muttered. “See if I ever tell you anything again.”
“Sorry,” he said and rolled back to his side, trying to hide his amusement. “But when you said private investigator, I immediately envisioned you slumped down in a car in the parking lot of a no-tell-motel, wearing a ball cap and toting a camera with a high-powered zoom.”
“Private investigators do other things besides trailing spouses who are having affairs.”
He cuddled closer. “Enlighten me.”
“For starters, they track down stolen or missing children, investigate personal injury and insurance fraud cases. And they get to pick and choose their cases. Can you imagine what it would be like to focus all your time and energy on one case and not fifty? To not have to worry about red tape or expense reports or D.A.’s with an attitude?” She fell back with a dreamy sigh. “That would be heaven. Pure heaven.”
Laughing, Gabe dropped a kiss on her mouth. “So why don’t you do it?”
She shrugged a shoulder. “I like to eat. P.I.’s don’t start out with a steady paycheck, you know. Not unless they tie themselves to a corporation or a group of lawyers. It takes time to build a reputation, to develop a clientele.”
“Coward.”
She jerked up to a sitting position. “I’m not a coward! I’m a realist.”
“Doesn’t take much to set you off. Mention the word coward and it’s like touching a match to a stick of dynamite.” When she continued to glare at him, he tugged her back down beside him. “Okay. So I don’t think you’re a coward. But I do think you ought to give being a P.I. a try. You’ll never know if you could make a success of it until you do.”
“You’re just saying that because you want my job.”
“Well, it would create an opening.”
She punched him in the stomach.
He choked out a laugh and grabbed her hand before she could punch him again. “It was a joke! I swear.”
“Ha-ha,” she said dryly.
Growing serious, he curled his fingers around her fist and brought it to his chest. “I want to make detective. I won’t deny that. But not if it meant stripping you of the title. Now, Leo, on the other hand…”
She gasped, then punched him again when he started laughing. “That’s not funny. I like Leo.”
He lifted a brow. “And you don’t like me?”
She squirmed, suddenly uncomfortable. “I didn’t say that.”
“Well, do you or don’t you?”
Scowling, she turned her face away. “You’re all right, I guess.”
Gabe sat opposite Prater’s desk. “Entry was gained through a window. The perp used a glass cutter to slice out a pane, then simply stuck a hand inside and unfastened the lock.”
“She needs a damn security system. I’ve told her that before.”
“I’ll see that she has one installed,” Gabe replied dryly, though he and the chief both knew the chances of him accomplishing that were slim. “I called in the break-in, then took Andi to my place.”
“What did they find?”
“Zilch. The knife was taken out of Andi’s own kitchen and was used to shred her bed linens. The slashes on the fabric matched the blade. No prints were found on any of it. The lipstick used to write the message was hers, too. Again, no prints.”
“There’s no such thing as the perfect crime,” Prater reminded him. “The guy’s got to slip up some time.”
Gabe lifted a shoulder. “If he has, we haven’t caught it. And believe me, we’ve gone over everything with a fine-tooth comb.”
“I want you sticking close to her. Don’t let her out of your sight.”
“Don’t worry. I don’t plan to.”
Andi had never lived with a man before and had never understood why any woman would choose to move in with one when she could just as easily live alone. But she was beginning to see the merits of cohabitation. There was always someone around to talk to. And it was kind of nice having a warm body to snuggle up to at night. She hadn’t even considered the benefits of splitting up the chores, but having someone to share the cooking and cleaning duties was a definite bonus.
Sex-on-demand wasn’t so bad, either. She’d coined the phrase herself after hearing a commercial for a movie channel on television. If you wanted to watch a movie, you didn’t have to go to the theater or drive to the store and rent a DVD or video. You just turned it on. Having Gabe around worked in much the same way.
“What are you smiling about?”
In the Arms of the Law Page 12