She tensed as the medical examiner lifted the sheet from Lost Fortune’s face. Blake Jamison took one look and his knees buckled. Gabe tightened his hold on the man and leaned to whisper something in his ear. At Jamison’s nod, Gabe lifted his head and looked straight at Andi. Though he couldn’t see her through the two-way glass, she could see him, and the message he sent was loud and clear.
“Jamison ID’d him,” Andi said with a weary sigh. “Our Lost Fortune finally has a name.”
Andi and Blake Jamison waited while Gabe approached the reception desk at Fortune TX, Ltd. “We’re here to see Ryan Fortune.”
“Your name?” the receptionist asked.
“Gabe Thunderhawk, Red Rock Police. Mr. Fortune is expecting us.”
She gestured to a grouping of plush chairs. “If you’d like to have a seat, I’ll let Mr. Fortune know you’re here.”
Gabe ushered Andi and Blake Jamison to the sitting area, but Ryan appeared before they had a chance to sit down.
“Mr. Fortune,” Gabe said, and shook Ryan’s hand. He drew Jamison forward. “This is Blake Jamison.”
His face creased in sympathy, Ryan clasped Jamison’s hand between both of his. “I’m so sorry for your loss, Mr. Jamison.”
Jamison’s jaw trembled a bit, but he managed to check his emotions. “Thank you. And, please, there’s no need for formalities. Blake is fine.”
“Blake, then,” Ryan said, and opened a hand. “If you don’t mind, we can talk in my office.”
When Gabe and Andi hung back, Jamison stopped. “You can join us. I have nothing to hide.”
“We’ll wait for you here,” Gabe told him.
Ryan avoided his desk and led Blake to a more casual grouping of chairs in front of the window that overlooked the manicured grounds of Fortune TX, Ltd.
“Please,” he said, indicating for Blake to sit down. “I appreciate your willingness to meet with me,” he said as he sat opposite him. “I know that today’s events must have been very difficult for you.”
Blake drew in a long breath, then blew it out. “You have no idea.”
Ryan nodded gravely. “I’m sure I don’t. I’ll make this conversation as brief as possible. I don’t know if you are aware of this, but I have a crown-shaped birthmark on my hip the same as your son’s.”
“Yes. Chief Prater mentioned that you did.”
“As far as I know, this unusual birthmark is unique to my family.”
“Yes,” Blake agreed. “That’s true.”
Puzzled by his response, Ryan frowned. “Are you saying that your son is a Fortune?”
“No. My son is a Jamison.”
Ryan sank back in his chair in frustration, feeling as if Blake was playing a game of cat and mouse with him. “Then how do you explain your son having a birthmark that you yourself have acknowledged as being unique to the Fortunes?”
“I never said the birthmark was unique to the Fortunes. I said it was unique to your family.”
Ryan shot to his feet, his face red with fury. “Are you purposefully trying to drive me crazy? The Fortunes are my family.”
“Your adopted family,” Blake clarified.
“I wasn’t adopted. My father was Kingston Fortune!”
“Kingston Jamison Fortune.”
Ryan paled as he realized the connection, then dropped his head to his hands. “Oh, my God. Oh, my God.” He slowly lifted his head. “I never once considered that possibility. I didn’t know anything about my father’s heritage. No one did. He seldom even talked about it. He told us only that he was raised by Hobart and Dora Fortune.”
“They did raise him. His birth mother, Eliza Wise, gave him to the Fortunes when he was just a baby. His father, Travis Jamison, never knew of his existence. It’s a long story and one I’d rather not go into right now, but Travis’s sister was aware of Kingston’s birth and planned to tell Travis that he’d fathered a child. Unfortunately, Travis died before she could tell him about his son.”
Appearing exhausted, Blake dragged himself to his feet. “If you will forgive me, I really should be leaving. I—I have arrangements to make for my son.”
Ryan stood and extended his hand. “I understand. And thank you for meeting with me. I hope that we can talk again in the future.”
Blake shook his hand. “Yes. We should.”
As Ryan walked with Blake to the door, an idea occurred to him. “The Fortunes are having a reunion next year in May. We’ve been trying to pull this off for years. We’d be honored if you and your family would join us.”
“I don’t know,” Blake said hesitantly. “Right now I can’t think beyond what I need to do today.”
Ryan nodded gravely. “I understand. I’ll be in touch.”
He watched until Blake rejoined Gabe and Detective Matthews in the reception area, then turned back to his office.
“Who was that?”
Ryan stopped and glanced back, then smiled fondly when he saw his cousin Clyde Fortune approaching from the opposite end of the hall. “It’s a long story and not one I’m even sure I can explain.”
Clyde held up a hand. “If it’s bad news, I don’t want to hear it. I’ve got enough trouble to deal with of my own.”
“Trouble?”
“Yes, trouble,” Clyde replied. “The female variety. That half-brained sister of mine, Violet, has invited a college friend of hers to stay at my ranch. For a month,” he added, then scowled. “What the hell am I supposed to do with a woman for that length of time?”
Chuckling, Ryan gave him a comforting pat on the back. “I’m sure it won’t be as bad as you think.”
“No,” Clyde grumbled as he stalked away. “It’ll be worse.”
Jason Wilkes stepped into the break room. “Has anyone seen Ryan?” he asked those sitting at the table, sipping coffee. “I heard he was in the building, but he’s not in his office.”
Mary, the receptionist at the front desk, glanced his way. “He left for home about ten minutes ago to tell Lily the news.”
Frowning, Jason stepped farther into the room wondering what would be so important that Ryan would feel the need to run home and tell his wife. “What news?”
“They identified the body of Lost Fortune,” Mary replied smugly, obviously enjoying the fact that she knew something he didn’t. “His name was Christopher Jamison. His father and his girlfriend made the positive identification this morning.”
It was all Jason could do to keep the shock from his face. Blake Jamison was in town? He quickly turned away, before anyone could see the panic that had seized him. “I’ll try to reach Ryan at home,” he said, struggling hard to keep the panic from his voice as he left the break room.
Andi knew she should feel bad that Gabe was going to have to go back to police work when Leo returned. But how could she feel bad about something that allowed them to continue to see each other? If he made detective, their relationship would have to end. She knew that meeting on the sly was an option, but that would never work. She wasn’t a rule breaker. Even if she were willing to give it a try, the guilt would eat her alive and that would eventually destroy whatever they had together, anyway, so what was the point?
If she cared for Gabe, truly cared for him, she should want him to be happy…and therein lay the problem. She did care for Gabe. But his happiness—at least in terms of his career—spelled doom for their relationship. He wanted to make detective. It was his goal. His dream. A dream he’d shared with her while they were lying together in bed. But how could she want happiness for him, when that meant giving him up?
She glanced across the squad room at Gabe, who sat at his desk, updating a file. To anyone else, he probably appeared normal. Focused. Busy. But she knew him well enough to recognize the signs of disappointment, of defeat. The slight slump of his shoulders. The tension at one corner of his mouth. The hand he dragged repeatedly through his hair.
Firming her jaw in determination, she pushed back her chair and crossed to Chief Prater’s office and peered around his
door. “Chief? Could I talk to you for a minute?”
He glanced up from the work spread over his desk, then reared back in his chair and motioned her in. “What’s up?”
She closed the door, then took the seat opposite his desk. “It’s about Gabe,” she began hesitantly.
“What about him?”
“You’re aware that he wants to make detective?”
He nodded. “I have his application on file.”
She hesitated, unsure how much to say, how far to push. “After working with him on the Lost Fortune case, I can vouch for his abilities. He’d make a good detective. He needs a little work on the concept of teamwork,” she admitted, “but that’s something he’ll gain with more experience in the field.”
He looked at her curiously. “Have you fallen for this guy?”
Andi stiffened. “What makes you ask that?”
“You’ve worked for me for nine years and this is the first time you’ve ever campaigned for a co-worker.”
She shot to her feet. “I’m not campaigning for Gabe,” she said defensively. “I worked with him, is all, and thought you’d want my opinion of his ability to handle the job.”
He pursed his lips, hiding a smile. “Why, thank you, Andi. I appreciate you taking the time to share your observations with me.”
Her cheeks flaming, she whirled for the door. “You’re welcome.”
Once in the squad room, she glanced uneasily around. Was she really that obvious? If Prater thought she’d fallen for Gabe, then everybody on the force probably assumed the same thing.
It was time to end this, she told herself, and headed for the exit. And the first order of business was moving out of Gabe’s house and back into her own.
“What are you doing?”
Andi wasn’t prepared for the sound of his voice, the pain it shot through her. She’d hoped to do this alone and be gone before he came home. Setting her jaw, she stuffed the clothes into her bag. “What does it look like I’m doing? I’m packing.”
She heard his footsteps as he came up behind her, and stiffened, praying he wouldn’t touch her. If he did, she was afraid she’d never be able to go through with this.
But he didn’t touch her. Instead, he began pulling clothes from her bag. “You’re not going anywhere. You’re staying right here where I can keep an eye on you.”
Furious with him for making this harder than it already was, she snatched the clothes from his hand. “I don’t need you watching out for me anymore. Whoever was bothering me has obviously backed off. He hasn’t done anything in over a week. Not even a hang-up call.”
“That doesn’t mean you’re out of danger.”
She zipped the bag and picked it up, then turned to face him. “I live with danger every day. So do you. We’re cops. It’s a dangerous job.” She turned to go and he grabbed her arm, stopping her.
“Andi, I—”
She held her breath, waiting for him to finish, thinking he’d beg her to stay. Tell her that he couldn’t live without her. That this was hurting him as badly as it was her.
Instead, he released her arm and turned away.
Gulping back tears, she all but ran for the door and then to her car. She wouldn’t cry, she promised herself as she drove back home. Once she started, she was afraid she’d never be able to stop.
Chief Prater seldom singled out anyone on the force for special recognition and had never handed out an award. But the media coverage surrounding the Lost Fortune case and his connection to the Fortune family had heightened public awareness, which in turn had made it necessary for the city to recognize those individuals responsible for closing the case.
At least that was the only reason Andi could come up with when the chief announced Monday morning that she and Gabe would receive plaques in a public ceremony held that afternoon.
By the time she arrived at the courthouse, where the presentations were to be made, every seat was filled, and people stood three-deep around the perimeter of the room. She saw Gabe standing at the front, talking to Ryan Fortune, and quickly looked away. Just seeing him hurt like nothing had ever hurt her before.
“What are you doing back here?” Chief Prater asked, then caught her elbow and herded her ahead of him up the aisle. “There’s a chair reserved for you up front.” He shoved her next to Gabe. “Y’all have a seat and we’ll get this over with.”
Andi quickly sat down. Gabe took the seat next to her, while Prater headed for the microphone.
“If I can have your attention, please,” he said, then waited until the room grew quiet. “It isn’t often that I recognize men and women on my force. To be honest, I don’t believe it’s necessary to honor an individual for doing something that’s considered a part of his or her job.” He glanced over at Gabe and Andi. “And I’m sure that if you were to ask Officer Thunderhawk and Detective Matthews, you’d find they feel the same way. They are in law enforcement because they choose to be. Because they can’t imagine doing anything else. They’ve dedicated their lives to keeping the law in Red Rock and maintaining the safety of its residents. They don’t expect any special recognition for doing their job, any more than Ron there,” he said, pointing to the postmaster, “expects any for doing his.
“But the case that Officer Thunderhawk and Detective Matthews closed last week wasn’t a normal case. From the beginning, it presented problems not usually associated with crime in our town. For starters, it dealt with murder. Then there was the problem with evidence. There was virtually nothing found at the scene for an investigator to work with. No weapon. No identification found on the body to provide a name. We were left with a stranger on our hands. A John Doe.
“At that point, another group of detectives might have given up, set the file aside and focused their attention and time on easier cases. Cases with actual evidence to trace.” He gestured to Gabe and Andi. “Not these two. They bowed their backs and dug deeper, worked harder. And their persistence paid off. Thanks to them, our John Doe now has a name. Christopher Jamison. His family has claimed his body and taken him home for a burial long overdue.”
He paused a moment, then narrowed an eye at the audience. “Two cases, miles apart, were closed simultaneously. A missing person in Seattle, Washington, and a John Doe right here in Red Rock, Texas. The diligent work of two of Red Rock’s finest accomplished this feat. Detective Andrea Matthews and Officer Gabe Thunderhawk.”
He motioned for Andi and Gabe to join him at the podium. “I consider it a privilege and an honor to award Detective Andrea Matthews and Officer Gabe Thunderhawk with these plaques signifying service above and beyond the call of duty to this community.” He handed Andi a plaque and shook her hand, then presented Gabe with his.
Thinking the presentation was over, Gabe and Andi started back to their seats. Prater’s voice stopped them.
“Not so fast, you two,” he said, and won a spatter of laughter from the audience. “I have one more presentation to make.”
He shuffled through the papers on the podium and pulled one free, then addressed the audience again. “Officer Thunderhawk would normally have not worked this case. But due to one of our regular detectives being out on medical leave, Gabe was given a temporary reassignment of duties. And according to Detective Matthews, the primary on the case, he pulled his weight and then some. She’s assured me that he can handle the duties of a full-time detective.” Smiling, he turned to Gabe and extended his hand. “Congratulations, Detective Thunderhawk.”
Andi drew in a shocked breath, stunned by the announcement. But it took a moment for Gabe to realize what the chief had said. When he did, he glanced at Andi, his forehead furrowed in confusion.
She gave him a nudge. “Go on. Take it. You earned it.”
Andi groaned at the sound of the doorbell. With her hands slick with floor wax and another half of the hallway to go before she was done with the job, she wasn’t in the mood for company. The doorbell chimed again, and she stuffed the rag into the container of wax, grumbling as sh
e heaved herself up from the floor. She winced as her knees refused to straighten, then hobbled to the front door and pushed up to her toes to peer through the peephole. A very contorted image of Gabe’s face let her know that her visitor was the last person in the world she wanted to see.
She steeled herself for the confrontation and opened the door. “Well, well, well, if it isn’t the newly appointed Detective Gabe Thunderhawk. I figured you’d be flying so high, you wouldn’t touch ground for at least another twenty-four hours.”
He pointed at his boots. “Lead soles. Guaranteed to keep a man grounded even under the most extreme circumstances.”
“So what can I do for you?” she asked, anxious to send him on his way.
“You could start by inviting me in.”
She glanced over her shoulder as if he’d caught her in the middle of something really important. “This really isn’t a good time,” she began, then cried, “Hey!” when he pushed past her.
“This won’t take long,” he assured her.
Flattening her lips, she slammed the door. “Make sure that it doesn’t. I’ve got things to do.”
“I wanted to thank you.”
“For what? I didn’t do anything.”
“You talked to Prater. I don’t know what you told him, but whatever it was, it must’ve convinced him I could handle the job.”
“You earned the promotion. I had nothing to do with it.”
“Do you know how long Prater’s had my application? Two years. Now tell me you didn’t have anything to do with it.”
“So I told him you handled yourself well on the Lost Fortune case. Big deal.”
“I miss you, Andi.”
She felt her heart melting and scowled. “Get a dog. I hear they make great companions.”
He took a step toward her. “I don’t want a dog. I want you.”
She thrust out a hand. “Don’t, Gabe,” she warned. “It’s over between us.”
He caught her hand and pulled her to his chest. “Says who?”
“It’s right there in black and white in your policy and procedure manual. Dating among employees within the same unit is prohibited.”
In the Arms of the Law Page 14