Send Me a Hero

by Rita Herron

  Guilt-laden, he hurried back to Veronica and knelt beside her. In spite of the smoke and her head injury, she smiled. Nathan blinked moisture from his eyes. He loved her more than his own life. How would he ever say goodbye?

  VERONICA CLUNG to Nathan’s hand, wondering if she would be strong enough to let him go when it was time. She’d planned to go to the party at Eli’s without him, but now…now, she didn’t know. She was too weak to even stand alone.

  He helped her to a sitting position, and she fought back tears as she watched the firemen hose down her office. All her files were destroyed. She had backups at home, but this was the place her father had worked. The business she’d wanted to operate for the rest of her life. And it had gone up in flames. Why?

  “Do you want to go home now?” Nathan asked.

  She looked into his eyes and saw a wealth of understanding, a feeling she’d never expected from a tough cop like him. Tenderness for him swelled inside, and tears blurred her vision. He pulled her into his arms and carried her to his car.

  “Do you want her bag?” One of the firemen stopped Nathan. He was holding her suitcase. “I found it when I had to move her car.”

  He glanced at the brown suitcase, then back at Veronica. She nodded toward the fireman. “Thanks.”

  Nathan helped her in the car and scooted into the driver’s seat, his jaw clenched hard, his amber eyes flickering with anger. “Where were you going, Veronica?”

  She twisted her fingers in her lap. “I don’t know.”

  He leaned back in the seat and faced her. “Were you running away from all this or from me?”

  How could she tell him she was running away to protect him? “I thought it might be best if I left town,” she said softly.

  Nathan nodded. “I see.” Then he cranked the engine and drove toward her apartment. He remained silent until they were inside.

  He picked up the phone and called Eli’s. A few minutes later, he hung up. “Eli is postponing the party until tomorrow night. He really wants you there.”

  Veronica nodded, too weary to do anything else.

  His face softened slightly. “Why don’t you rest for a while, then shower. I have some phone calls to make.”

  “Okay.” She reached for her bag, but he refused to relinquish control.

  “I’ll put it in your bedroom.”

  Veronica felt like weeping. He looked so angry, so rigid and untouchable. She had to say something, to try and explain.

  “Nathan, I don’t want anyone else to get hurt because of me.”

  “What are you talking about?” he asked.

  “Your partner.” Veronica’s voice shook.

  “Is that what this is about?” He grabbed her arms. “Listen to me, Ford didn’t die because of you. Cops face danger every day. It’s part of the job. You…you can’t blame yourself.”

  She tried to accept what he said. She knew he was trying to absolve her of guilt. But she heard the anger in his voice and wondered if he really believed his own words or if he blamed her as well. And if anything happened to Nathan…

  She pushed the thoughts aside. She would go to Eli’s tomorrow and see if she could figure out this whole mess. And if that didn’t work, she’d go back to her parents’ house—alone. She would remember who killed her parents, and then she could get on with her life. And he would be free to do the same.

  NATHAN WATCHED Veronica retreat to her bathroom and silently fumed. He wanted to hold her and make love to her so badly he ached. But he’d let her down. He hadn’t protected her, and he couldn’t forget it. And he couldn’t let his defenses down again. If he did, this time the person who was out to get Veronica might succeed. And if that happened, there would be no reason for him to go on with his own life.

  He called the station. “Any news on Ford’s car?”

  “Looks like he was run off the road. Rear-ended by a late-model black car, paint job was high-class, custom job. Most likely someone with money.”

  Alma Jones or Gerald fit that picture. But was Alma strong enough to hit Veronica over the head and drag her inside a building? Maybe Alma and Gerald had conspired to kill her.

  “Any further information on the bloody knife or the syringe in the Miller case?”

  “Definite DNA of another person on the bloody knife. The syringe has been traced to a pharmaceutical company.”

  “Let me guess, Barrett Pharmaceutical.”

  “You got it. There’s more. The towel the second knife was wrapped in.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Came from Italy.”

  “Well, well, well,” Nathan said. That might prove helpful. “Think it was imported?”

  “We’ll find out.”

  Now who might have recently taken a trip? Maybe he’d find out at Eli’s.

  “Thanks, Lieutenant. I suppose there’s no news on the fire at Ms. Miller’s office.”

  “Not yet, but it looks like arson. I’ll let you know.”

  Nathan hung up and heard the shower dwindle to a stop. Veronica would be stepping out of the shower, her beautiful naked body glistening with water droplets. He wanted to make love to her with a fierceness that almost overwhelmed him. Instead he slumped on the couch and dropped his face into his hands.

  A few minutes later he tiptoed to the bedroom to check on her. She lay on the bed, sound asleep. He felt her forehead, listened to her breathing, then covered her and lay down beside her. For a long time he simply watched her sleep, thanking God she’d survived. He’d definitely let her down.

  Then he set the alarm so he’d wake every two hours and check on her. Reaching inside his pocket, he absentmindedly dug for a cigarette, then remembered again he’d given them up. He craved one so badly he thought he would die. Hell, that was nothing compared to how it would feel to give up Veronica.

  THE NEXT NIGHT, Veronica dressed in a long black skirt and a white silk blouse, added a simple gold bracelet, necklace and earrings and wound her hair in a chignon. She thought she’d never cleanse the smell of smoke from her hair and body, but finally she felt clean. She wanted to look her most poised to meet with Eli’s family. Her stomach rumbled and she swallowed to calm her nerves, pressing her fingers to her temple to massage her headache. Hopefully the painkillers would kick in soon. Tonight might be the night she unlocked the key to her past.

  And if it was, it would be her last night with Nathan. The case would be over, she would deal with the past, and he would move on. She blinked back tears and powdered her face, then opened the door. Nathan stared at her intently.

  “You look beautiful.”

  “Thanks.” She rushed out of the room.

  “It won’t take me long to shower,” he called.

  “The towels—”

  “I know where the towels are,” Nathan said in a deep voice.

  Veronica turned and met his gaze. She knew they were both remembering the last time he’d showered here. Tonight though, the tension crackled between them. Nathan reached for the buttons of his shirt and Veronica clenched her hands into fists so she wouldn’t be tempted to help him. “Like I said, I won’t be long.” His gaze lingered a moment longer.

  She hurried into the kitchen and made tea, hoping to calm herself. She tried not to fantasize about Nathan’s hard, muscular body standing underneath the same shower head she’d stood under only moments before. She’d been alone most of her life; she would survive without Nathan. Then he would be safe.

  She thumbed through the pages of her photo album, smiling at the picture of her parents, once again curious at the missing photographs. Then she spotted Eli and stared at his face. He had been so good to her over the years. Even if his son Gerald had been involved in some way in the deaths of her parents, Eli couldn’t have known. He was too kind and loving.

  “How’s the suit?” Just as Nathan said, it had taken him only minutes in the shower.

  She looked up and saw him standing in her den, freshly showered and dressed in a dark suit and navy tie. He looked so handsome sh
e wanted to wrap her arms around him. “Great.” Veronica could barely speak past the lump in her throat. His hair looked darker with water still clinging to the ends and she detected the fresh scent of her own soap on his body.

  “Are you ready?” he asked.

  She nodded and grabbed her coat. On the drive Veronica mentally prepared herself for confronting Eli’s family members. When they walked to the entrance of the mansion, she felt as if she were walking to her own tombstone.

  A maid greeted them at the door and ushered them into the formal sitting area. Eli came toward Veronica, his face aglow.

  “It’s so nice to see you, darling.” He wrapped her in a warm embrace, and all the doubts Veronica had had about him vanished. Eli loved her. He could never do anything to hurt her. Nathan stood in the background, then shook hands with Eli when he finally let her go. “It’s nice to see you, Detective Dawson.”

  “And you, Eli.”

  “Would you like a drink?” Eli offered.

  Veronica shook her head. “Club soda will be fine.” After taking the painkillers for her head, she was afraid the alcohol would knock her out. And she wanted her wits about her for the duration of the evening.

  Nathan smiled. “The same for me.”

  Eli clinked ice into three drink glasses and filled them, then turned with a smile. “My favorite also.” He raised his glass. “Here’s to my goddaughter.”

  “Yes, she’s lucky to be here,” Nathan said. “Especially after that fire yesterday.”

  Veronica almost choked on her drink. She hadn’t expected Nathan to bring up the topic.

  Eli’s face turned ashen. “My dear, are you okay?”

  She felt a moment of guilt. “I’m fine, Eli. Really.”

  Eli clutched the chair edge. “What happened?”

  Nathan spoke up. “It looks like arson. I have a team investigating it.”

  A butler rang the dinner bell.

  It took Eli a moment to recover. “Were you there, Veronica?”

  “When I arrived the fire had already started. I tried to save some files. Then Detective Dawson showed up.” She purposefully left out the part about the attack. She saw Nathan scrutinizing Eli.

  “You shouldn’t have gone inside,” Eli said, dabbing at his pale face with a napkin. “You could have been killed, Veronica.”

  “Look, I’m fine. Let’s talk about something else,” she said.

  The butler cleared his throat. “Sir? Dinner is served.”

  “Yes, let’s go to dinner,” Veronica said, taking Eli’s arm.

  When they entered the large, formal dining room, Veronica tensed at the formidable-looking Alma Jones, who stood at the head of the table.

  “Mother, you remember Veronica?” Eli said.

  “Certainly. How are you, Ms. Miller?”

  Veronica forced a smile and ignored the sharp look the old woman gave her. “I’m fine.”

  A surge of quiet voices echoed from the hallway, and suddenly Eli’s family filled the room. Tessa gave her a hug. “Hi, Veronica. I’m so glad you could make it. I was sorry you had to leave our luncheon. Are you feeling better?”

  “Yes, thanks.” Veronica smiled, grateful to have an ally in the family.

  Nathan arched an eyebrow. “Veronica wasn’t feeling well and had to leave early,” Tessa explained.

  “Yes, I’m sorry,” Veronica said. “But I’m glad you’re here tonight, Tessa.”

  Gerald looked polished and neat in his three-piece suit. He gave her a peck on the cheek. Veronica noticed Nathan’s jaw tighten, but she returned the kiss. Her stomach knotted as she considered the possibility she was kissing her parents’ murderer. And quite possibly, the man who’d attacked her this afternoon and burned down her office. Or was it Alma? Or Louise?

  Eli’s wife, Barbara, greeted her with a tight smile. “Nice of you to join us, Ms. Miller.”

  “Thank you for having me.”

  The room grew suddenly silent. Eli cleared his throat. Tessa started to babble about the elaborate menu to fill the awkward silence. Sonny, Eli’s youngest son, stumbled in.

  “Hi, Pops.” Sonny slapped his dad on the back, then hugged his grandmother.

  Alma winced. “Remember my sore arm, dear.”

  Veronica paused, her attention drawn to Alma. The older woman’s wound was the same place she thought she’d stabbed her attacker.

  Eli gave Sonny a harsh look. “It looks like you’ve been at it again, son.” He wrinkled his nose. “Smells like it, too.”

  “Eli,” Alma admonished. “Sonny, we have guests.”

  Always the formal hostess, Veronica thought, as Eli’s wife pointed to their assigned seats and everyone took their places. Veronica had been seated between Sonny and Gerald while Tessa and Alma Jones surrounded Nathan.

  “Bring Sonny some coffee,” Eli told the maid. “And make it strong.”

  “No way. Get me a scotch,” Sonny said, slurring his words.

  The evening couldn’t have been more uncomfortable. Veronica picked at the fancy seafood dish and listened to Alma Jones chatter about the latest society news. She made a futile attempt to ignore the foul smell of Sonny’s whiskey breath and his constant rude interruptions.

  Nathan asked about the antiques.

  “I love Europe,” Mrs. Jones said. “Many of my antiques are imported from France and Italy. I brought in only the best Persian rugs for the house.”

  Tessa smiled at Veronica across the table and helped ease some of the tension while Gerald tried to change the topic of conversation to politics; primarily his own campaign.

  “How’s it going?” Nathan asked.

  “Very well,” Gerald said, wiping his mouth with his napkin. “I think I have support over most of the state.”

  “Dessert everyone. Look, it’s chocolate mousse,” Eli’s wife announced. She turned to Nathan. “Our cook makes the best mousse in Atlanta.” The maid served each of their desserts, bypassing the elder Mrs. Jones.

  “Aren’t you having some?” Nathan asked.

  “No, I’m afraid not,” Mrs. Jones said.

  “Grandma’s diabetic,” Tessa interjected.

  “Yes,” Mrs. Jones said. “I must watch my sugar.”

  “And take her insulin regularly,” Tessa said with a shiver. “I don’t see how Grandma gives herself shots.”

  Veronica met Nathan’s gaze over the table. Was he thinking about the hypodermic he’d found in her bedroom?

  Suddenly Sonny, who’d been thankfully silent for a few minutes, leaned forward, his elbows on the table.

  “Well, Dad, are you going to tell everyone what this little dinner party is all about?”

  Eli broke into a cough and Gerald slapped him on the back. “Are you okay, Father?”

  After downing a glass of water, Eli wiped his mouth and stared at Sonny. “I don’t know what you mean, Sonny. We’re simply having a friend over for dinner.”

  Sonny chugged another scotch. His words were slurred when he spoke. “Oh, come on, Pops. I know why you invited Veronica. You want us to get to know her.”

  “Well…that’s right,” Eli stuttered, his face turning red. “She was the daughter of a close friend of mine.”

  Barbara glared at Eli.

  “A friend?” Sonny sputtered.

  Alma Jones’s spoon hit her plate with a thud. Gerald frowned at Sonny. “Must you be so rude? We have guests.” Gerald turned to Eli. “Father, you really should ship him off. He’s an embarrassment to this family.”

  Veronica’s fingers tightened around her spoon. She looked at Nathan and saw him studying the scene with a detective’s eye. All she could see was humiliation on Eli’s face. His youngest son obviously had a drinking problem. What a hardship for Eli.

  Sonny stood up, knocking the table. Silverware clinked and Tessa caught her water glass just before it overturned. Sonny slapped the table edge. “You guys are such bozos. You’re so caught up in your stupid politics and society pages, you don’t even see it. Dad’s trying to p
ull one over on all of you.”

  “What are you talking about?” Gerald asked angrily.

  Tessa looked shocked at her brother’s outburst.

  Eli gulped and reached for Sonny’s hand. “Sonny, let’s talk in private.”

  “Shut up, Dad.” Sonny shoved Eli’s hand away and waved his arm in the air. Alma Jones gasped.

  Eli’s wife, Barbara, stood up. “Now, Sonny—”

  “Mom, you aren’t going to let Dad get away with this, are you?” Staggering, Sonny tried to walk around the table but stumbled against his mother’s chair.

  “With what?” Gerald asked.

  Sonny steadied himself and pointed his finger at Veronica as if she had committed a crime. “I just found out Dad’s going to put her in his will.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  “No!”

  “What? That’s not possible!”

  “Dad?”

  The room erupted into chaos. Veronica froze, too stunned to move as Eli’s wife, mother, Gerald and Sonny all verbally attacked Eli.

  “You can’t do this,” Alma Jones shouted. “You’ll disgrace us all.”

  Barbara’s face turned murderous. “Eli, how dare you!”

  In a more calm but equally puzzled voice, Gerald jumped up. “Father, what is the meaning of this?”

  “She’s not a part of the family,” Sonny yelled.

  Tessa’s expression was unreadable as she observed her family fighting. “I think you’re overreacting,” she said calmly. “Father’s probably just giving her a small token since her family is all gone.”

  “Stay out of this, Tessa,” Gerald snapped.

  “You little gold digger,” Eli’s mother said, pointing an accusing finger at Veronica. “You came back to Oakland to try and get money—”