Hit 'N' Run (Under Suspicion #1)

by Lori Power

  “Just some guy.” Tia elbowed her in the ribs before turning to look over her shoulder at Mitch, whose biceps showed quite clearly through the plain white, form-fitting tee shirt he wore under the apron supplied by Mariam. “You’ve got to be kidding. Some guy.” She turned back to Lorna, not bothering to hide her admiration for the way the tee shirt stretched across his pecs like a second skin. “Then again, you’re right—he certainly is some guy.”

  “Whatever.” Lorna drained her glass and shrugged her shoulders. “Really,” she continued sounding like she was trying to convince herself. “We attended the same school. No big deal. We ran into each other recently, and he decided to stop by for the party. Kris adores him.”

  “I’ll bet Kris isn’t the only one who has him on the adore list.”

  Perceptive as always, that’s why I hired her. Tia’s hand settled on her hip as she finished her look off with a raised eyebrow. “First of all, you’re not fooling anyone who’s known you more than a minute. Sparks latterly arch between the two of you. Second, I haven’t seen you this tightly strung since you got back from Van…” She narrowed her eyes. “Ohmigod. He’s the guy. The one you hit and he ran. The cop.”

  It wasn’t a question.

  Lorna bent to fuss with one of the kids. “Well done, Connor,” she said, removing the blindfold from the child to encourage the next one to come forward and wear the bandana.

  Lorna stood and faced her friend, huffing. “Yes, but…”

  Holding her hand towards Lorna, palm upward, Tia’s face split into a full-lipped smile and she licked her lips. “Say no more. It’s all coming together for me now.”

  “No, I don’t think…”

  Tia beamed. “I’m going over and see how those burgers are coming along, shall I?” She sashayed towards the deck, leaving Lorna to marinate in her own rancor. “I’m suddenly very hungry.” Tia winked as she moved away.

  ***

  The aroma of charcoal, fresh plants, mowed lawn, and sweaty kids mixed to fill Mitch with a sense of belonging. Flipping burgers, Mitch monitored Lorna’s assistant’s approach with a big-ass smile. Lorna stood across the expanse of lawn with the kids, her gaze flicking between him and the approaching woman. Good-looking lady. But Lorna drew him like a magnet. Boldly, he made no secret of his interest in Lorna. He needed a chance to explain—to make it right with her. No matter what, I won’t lose her again.

  “Oh, boy, if looks could kill, you’d be dead by now,” Mariam said at his side, handing him a plate full of homemade burgers to add to the flame. “I should have shooed you right out of here for not calling her all week, but—and I shouldn’t say a word, mind—I can’t help liking you.”

  Reluctant, he faced the older woman. Her rosy cheeks were shadowed under the brim of her sun hat. “Thank you, Mariam.” Mitch looked down upon the small woman and accepted the plate with a nod. “I was working.”

  “No phones where you work, then?”

  Ouch, there’s the bite. “You’re not going to let me off the hook?”

  “No, sir.” Mariam’s eyes sparked with purpose. “I might like you. You’ve got something about you I think would be good for my girl, but I love her. And make no mistake about it.” Her small hand shot out to grab his forearm firmly without intention to hurt, only to emphasize her meaning. “Don’t you hurt her again…”

  “Wasn’t my intent…”

  Mariam released her grip and held up her hand, stalling his words midstream. “Don’t tell me.” She tilted her chin towards the yard where Lorna and another mom encouraged the kids doing a conga dance. “Tell her.”

  As his gaze lit upon Lorna’s lovely form, hair flying free the way he loved it, seeming to be so free from anxiety, his heart turned over. “I plan to.”

  “And for heaven’s sake, give the woman your number. What kinda fella doesn’t give his number to a lovely lady these days?”

  The words so took him by surprise, Mitch threw back his head and chuckled heartily, tearing his gaze from Lorna to pat Mariam’s shoulders gently. “You got me there.”

  Returning his sights to Lorna, he saw her head snap around in response to his laughter and bowed his head in silent greeting to her across the span of grass. Flames snapped in her eyes, matching the sizzle from the barbeque, and she pointedly looked away. This isn’t going to be easy.

  The fact he even attended the party had been no easy feat. Boulet’s gonna have kittens for sure.

  Having received no word from Vonnie since Tuesday’s call and watching Lorna’s house again last night with no sign of anything untoward, Mitch’s patience had reached crushing point. “This is stupid,” he muttered, turning to Luke in the driver’s side. “We’ve got nothing, and we’re getting nowhere.”

  “She’s having a party. Shit goes down at a party,” his partner responded, the glow from the streetlight illuminating the whites of his eyes. “We already know from her phone calls something’s going down next week. So we’ll wait.”

  “Did it ever occur to anyone to ask her? Treat her with some common courtesy?” He huffed into his stale coffee, determined to put a rein on his rising emotions that seemed to sit so close to the surface this week. Jesus, where’s my professionalism gone? “Shit, we pull guys in for questioning all the time. Why not Lorna?”

  “Different operation, different plan. The stakes are significantly higher now.” Luke paused as Lorna came out on the porch to pin a large poster to the door as she continued to decorate for the birthday party. “We’re dealing with the higher echelon of the Fong empire now. Not some small-time drug-smuggling operation.”

  “Why not give her the chance to explain? Maybe we could use her information.”

  “Oh, yeah, buddy,” Luke snorted, taking a long drink from his Styrofoam cup. “She’s just going to outline the whole damned plan, is she? To you, of all people, I suppose. Stop fucking up. For that matter, we wouldn’t be here at all if you weren’t fucking around—literally.”

  Mitch had heard it all before, too many times of late and Luke’s words fell on deaf ears. With Lorna in his sights, he had already made up his mind. The team could like it or lump it, and be damned with the consequences. He knew—just knew there was a reasonable explanation, if only she’d trust him enough to tell him.

  Once Luke dropped him at home, Mitch ran over to the mall and picked up a small gift for Kris. Wrapping what was referred to as the ‘hottest ticket item,’ complete with accessories, he found he was all thumbs. The paper refused to fold neatly, and he kept taping, trying to get the wrinkles to lie flat. Looking now at his gift, sitting with distinction on the table, he noted, compared to the other presents, his was covered with significantly more adhesive. The reward for his efforts: when the child took his large hand in his own and invited him to stay. Normal.

  “Who wants to whack the piñata?” Lorna yelled to the kids, ushering them to the wide deck.

  “Meee,” returned a chorus of responses.

  “You went all out on this Avenger’s theme,” Mitch began conversationally to Lorna as she mounted the three stairs. “Looks great, by the way. You look great.”

  He may have been invisible. She strutted to the table and ignored his compliments.

  Assembling the kids, she called out, “Come on over here and form a line. Everyone gets four whacks each.”

  “Lorna never does anything in half measures.” Mariam returned to his side again, offering him a glass of lemonade. He accepted, grateful to quench his parched throat. “Oh my, I should have thought to offer you a beer. We do have some. Would you like one?”

  “No. Thank you, Mariam, I’m fine.”

  Handing the older woman the spatula, he strode the five paces to come level with the kids. “Hey,” Mitch addressed the group of youngsters. “Aren’t you guys afraid if you hit Loki too many times he may turn his staff on you?” Loki was Thor’s adopted brother, turned bad guy from the Avengers movie. Loki was also the character on the front of the piñata.

  “Nooo!” They g
iggled, full of youthful bravado.

  “Loki’s not real,” said a little boy with one missing tooth, pointing at the piñata hanging above their heads. “That thingie just holds the candy.”

  Mitch held his elbow and positioned his thumb and forefinger over his chin in a meditative stance. “Umm. Well, now, I don’t know if I’d be brave enough. Maybe, if I were the Hulk.” He schooled his face into a look of mock fear. “I’m gonna stand over here.” He backed away two steps. “And wait to run away if anything happens.”

  “Nothin’s gonna happen,” said a little girl with red curls who reminded him of his own niece. “The candy falls out.”

  “Okay,” he said, folding his arms across his chest. “Loki’s a bad egg.”

  With more laughter and plenty of expended energy, each kid used their two runs through the line before they finally cracked the outer shell. The children vibrated with expectation when they caught a glimpse through the small crack of the bright-colored candy held captive within.

  Lorna held the ribboned stick in her hands. “Should I try to finish it off?”

  “No,” Kris yelled exuberantly, running up to take the stick from Lorna’s hands and handing it over to Mitch. “Let Mitchell try.”

  “Yeah, Mitchell,” the children echoed. “Mitchell can beat the Loki.”

  Oh, this wasn’t my intention. He felt like an intruder as he watched a spark blow out in Lorna’s eyes in momentary disappointment, until Kris took her by the hand. “Remember, Mama, how you told me policemen had to be so strong. You said Mitchell went after bad guys all the time. He strong like Hulk. He’ll get that bad ol’ Loki.”

  Her face, already pink with exertion and sun, deepened to a darker hue. Nodding her head, she refused to make eye contact with him.

  Mitch stepped solemnly back into the fray. “Let me see what I can do.” He smiled at the assembly. Positioning his feet wide, he bent his knees and started to swing…then stopped. “You better stand back.” He ushered them back.

  Closing his eyes tightly, he swung and missed, spinning around in a circle. “Oh, where’d he go?”

  The kids laughed at his comic antics and he was compensated with a small quirk to Lorna’s lips.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll get him,” he said, taking his place again. Swinging, he landed a hard shot right to the middle.

  “Ohhh,” they cheered collectively as a couple of pieces of candy fell.

  “One more?”

  “Yes!” they chorused.

  Mitch exaggerated his movements to turn in a wide circle and landed another blow, solidly cracking the cover. No candy fell. “That’s four for me. Oh, I guess I can’t do it,” he said, pouting his lips. “I think it can only be finished off with a special hit from the birthday boy.”

  “Me?” Kris said, stepping forward, eyes large in his reddened face.

  “Of course you,” Mitch replied, lifting Kris high in the air. He liked this feeling of family—of belonging. It was a new and welcoming sensation. “Are there any other birthday boys here today?”

  “No,” the children yelled back in answer.

  “Take the stick and show me what you got.”

  “I strong. Like you.” The green eyes looked adoringly at him, and his heartstrings grew taut.

  “You’re strong like Ironman.”

  “No. I Super Kris!”

  Nailing the papier-mâché with just enough force to burst the seams, the candy fell like fireworks to the decking. Kris dropped the stick and turned to embrace Mitch. The thin arms clung around his neck and his small legs hugged his waist. Mitch was overwhelmed with an instant sensation of affection.

  The moment gone, Kris squirmed out of his arms to join his friends in the giggles and frantic movements to claim their prize. Mitch glanced up at Lorna before she turned away, a strange light in her amber eyes.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Lifting her arm in farewell, the smile plastered on her lips didn’t reflect in her eyes as she said out of the corner of her mouth, “Just because you won over my son, it doesn’t mean you’re off the hook.” She and Mitch stood side by side on the porch, watching the last car leave. Mitch watched as the car rounded the bend. He turned to face her. She matched his movements, a questioning look in her eyes. “I don’t understand what’s going on here.”

  Mitch longed to take her delicate hand in his and tell her how much the day had meant to him. It had given him a sense of family he hadn’t, until today, realized he had so desperately missed, working undercover these last years. But her taut features clearly told him any attempt on his part to breach her formidable wall would be seen as hostile and likely treated as such.

  He released a deep breath. “I can explain. If you let me.”

  In answer, she strode into the house, leaving him no choice but to follow. As they walked back together through the kitchen to the backyard, she proceeded to clear away the paper plates while he grabbed a trash bag to provide assistance.

  The sense of family deepened as they worked as a unit to clear up the mess. After a bit, she paused. “I’m not sure I want to,” she said, carefully wiping off the plastic tablecloth before starting to fold it with tight corners to use again.

  “It’s okay,” he replied, tying the top of the trash bag. “You’re not likely to appreciate what I have to say anyhow.”

  That caused a wrinkle in her smooth brow, and she hooked a loose strand of her fair hair behind her ear. “What do you mean?” she asked, resuming the cleanup by stacking the unused character plates and cups.

  Laying the trash bag along the wall close to the patio door, he followed his instinct, holding his hand out to her. “Come sit with me, Lorna.”

  His heart fluttered when her hand started towards his, then plummeted when she hesitated before choosing instead to shake her head. Declining his hand, she walked into the house. Reaching the bottom of the stairs, she quietly yelled up, “Ma?”

  “Yeah?” came the questioned response after a couple of heartbeats.

  “I’m going out for a walk. Okay?”

  “Of course, dear. Take your time,” Mariam’s voice sounded closer, and he could almost picture her leaning over the balustrade. “Tell Mitchell thanks for all his help.”

  “Sure,” Lorna said, turning back towards him, unsmiling.

  “You’ve converted everyone now.” He smirked, striving to lighten the atmosphere between them, reaching for the same lock of hair, which had swayed back across her cheek. “I’m now Mitchell to everyone in this household.”

  Even though she backed away from his touch, he could sense her attraction to him. Electricity arched between them like a live current. It’s always been this way. He ached to protect her from what he was about to do. The impulse to run away with her and hide from what was happening, all he had to reveal, was so strong it was all he could do not to throw her over his shoulder caveman style and act on the compulsion. Instead, he watched as she scooped a sweater from the hook behind the door and led him outside to the sidewalk.

  ***

  With raw nerves, she walked stiffly down the sidewalk, waiting for this big explanation. Please let it be something believable so I can feel his arms around me again. Familiar tingles had assaulted her all day, pulling at her midsection with longing. The tug on her stomach prevented her from eating with the others. Every look he had cast her way caused a pulse point to flutter. Giving in to him would be so easy if she wasn’t so afraid of being hurt again. Walking beside him, knowing he was watching her closely brought back unbidden memories of their time together. Distance was her only defense.

  She crossed her arms across her chest. “Well?” she prompted when they cleared the first block.

  His step faltered. Fearing he may fall, she reached out a hand to touch his arm. A clear mistake. The cop mask fell away, revealing a deep sorrow. Snatching her hand back as though burned, Lorna was filled with a profound sense of misgiving as she watched him.

  “I don’t even know how to begin,” he said, runn
ing an agitated hand through his hair.

  “At the beginning,” she said, attempting to keep her voice even as she would in a business meeting.

  “Ah. I remember that voice from my tutor.” He smiled, but it looked forced.

  Not surprisingly, just the tender note in his voice melted the ice she was trying to stake around her heart. She turned her head to look up at him. “What happened, Mitch? I get you’re a cop and perhaps a slave to your job.” She slowed her step, spotting a bench just up ahead. “But I think after…ah, after what we…er, last weekend, you could have called. Even a text.”

  “You’re right, of course.” He nodded his head.

  “Jesus, I hate even saying the words. It makes me feel so needy,” she sighed. “But really it’s not needy. I expect some common courtesy.”

  “I know,” he agreed again.

  “Stop just agreeing with me. I know the phone call and the reason you had to leave has something to do with the job you were working on in Vancouver.”

  “What?” He shot her a look of disbelief. His face seemed to drain of color before he affixed his cop mask back into place, and suddenly he was off-limits again. “How’d you know?”

  She chuckled without merriment, confused by the change. “I’m anything but stupid, Mitch. You got the call last week when they asked for Michael Ward. That was the name on your license. Remember?”

  He released a puff of air, slamming his hands in his jeans pockets. “Yes, of course.”

  “Then you get a call at a most awkward time.” Her face suffused with heat.

  A boyish grin replaced his grimace, and he let his mask fall away again as he looked down at her. Her core responded to the sudden ravening look of desire that lit his face. “Ah, I was so hungry. Starved still,” his predatory voice dropped as he leaned towards her.