When he looked up, she blinked those big blues at him. “I’m sorry. I imagine it must be hard to lose a fellow officer. I know it’s hard when people ask questions about someone you lost.”
“Yeah,” his voice gave the word more meaning than he wanted. From the look on her face, she’d heard and understood it.
She sipped her coffee and looked into her cup as if lost in thought.
“Coffee okay?” he asked, longing to fight the wave of grief trying to nudge its way into her mood again.
“Yeah, it’s fine. You remembered how I take my coffee. Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” He shrugged. “Told you I wasn’t a total dickhead.”
She smiled. He had to stop himself from leaning in and kissing her. But damn he wanted to taste her. To taste the sheen of oil from her lips. To taste the sweetness of sugar on her tongue.
“Do you know where he lived?” she asked.
“Who lived?” he asked.
“The other officer. Mike Anderson. That first night, I remember thinking he looked familiar, and again last night when I saw his picture on the news. I thought maybe I knew him from somewhere. Maybe the grocery store or something.”
He hesitated, but remembered from Mike’s file. “In Springville, just north of here.”
“Were you two close?”
He shook his head. “Not really. But from what I knew of him, he was a decent guy.”
She pressed her lips to the cup and stared at him over the rim. He could almost feel her trying to read him. “Did you know the other officer who was killed?”
Damn, he didn’t want to talk about this. “You ready to go?” He stood, hoping to leave the question behind.
“You knew him better, didn’t you?”
He pitched his coffee in the garbage. “Yeah.” He exhaled. “He was my partner. And my best friend.”
~
His SUV stayed behind her as she drove. Cali thought about the pain she’d seen in his eyes when he talked about his partner. She’d sensed earlier that they were both going through something. She’d been right. They were both grieving. Her heart ached for him. Was that why she felt drawn to him?
He’s going through something, she remembered her mom saying. How had her mom known? When Cali pulled into the school parking lot on automatic, her mind chewed on the dreams and the crazy possibility they presented.
No, her mom didn’t know. Her mom was gone. The dreams were exactly what the counselor said they were—her maternal psyche verbalizing her own intuitiveness.
Stopping her car, she stared at the nearly empty parking lot. “Where is everyone?” The realization hit. Oh yeah, today was an in-service day. The kids wouldn’t be here, which meant she’d be in meetings all day.
Normally, she enjoyed a break from the daily grind, but this morning in the shower she’d worried about Sara and hoped to check in on her. As Cali parked, she decided she’d give the girl a call. It never hurt to let someone know they weren’t alone.
Brit’s SUV pulled in beside her. She waved at him, thinking he might just take off. But nope, he got out and met her as she closed her car door. She remembered how he’d looked at her while they’d been eating donuts. For a second there, she thought he’d been going to kiss her—which probably wouldn’t have been a good thing. But it hadn’t prevented her from wishing he’d tried.
Not that she would have allowed it. Or at least she told herself she wouldn’t have.
He stopped in front of her. A cold wind gusted, and she was tempted to move closer just because he looked so warm. She recalled again how she’d cried on his shoulder almost in this very spot. Recalled how good it had felt to have his arms around her, too.
“What time are you off?” he asked.
“Three, but I don’t expect you to come back.”
“Why not?” He shifted closer. Tall, dark, strong. And warm. She met his eyes and saw the shadows of grief there, the same thing she felt. It took everything she had not to lean against him. She wanted to console him and be consoled.
“Because...” She couldn’t think with him this close.
“Don’t leave the school until I get here. I’m serious.”
Don’t go to lunch tomorrow. Her mom’s warning whispered in her head.
“But—” She closed her mouth as he pressed a finger against her lips. The touch felt intimate, soft, and caring. He cares about you. Her mother’s words filled her head again.
“Please, don’t argue.” He brushed his finger down to the edge of her jaw and under her chin. With the slightest pressure, he tilted her face back. She watched his tongue brush a layer of moisture onto his bottom lip, and his blue-greens stared at her mouth.
Tanya’s gold Toyota darted past, and the moment shattered like dropped crystal. Tanya had lousy timing. Or great timing. Did she want him to kiss her?
“It’s an in-service day.” She threw words at the awkwardness.
“A what?”
“Kids are off. We’ll have meetings all day.”
He looked at her mouth again, then glanced away. “You have security here, don’t you?”
“Yes. Roberto Garcia; he patrols the lot.” Right then, Roberto’s security car pulled around the side of the school.
“I’m going to talk to him.” He started off.
She grabbed his hand. The warmth of his palm against hers gave her a jolt. She released him. “I wish you wouldn’t tell him about all this.”
“He needs to know. Humphrey broke into your car yesterday, and he could come back.”
Cali knew Brit was right, but something he’d said yesterday teased her mind. “Did you tell Mrs. Jasmine about everything?”
“Mrs. Jasmine?”
“The principal? You said she gave you Tanya’s number.”
He nodded. “I only said I was worried you could be in danger. I didn’t stay to explain things.”
Cali sighed. “Guess I’ll be called into the office today.”
He frowned. “I didn’t mean to cause trouble.” Concern darkened his eyes.
She offered him half a smile. “I’ll survive.” Silence fell again. More awkwardness.
“I’ll be here at three. You wait inside. Promise me?”
She nodded. He gave her mouth one more glance, then walked away. But he looked back and then smiled and winked. The quick flutter from his eyelid spread to her stomach.
“I’m in so much trouble,” she muttered.
“Why?” Tanya appeared beside her. “Because he has a nice ass?”
“Yeah. And awesome shoulders, too. And a good heart.” Cali frowned.
Leaning in, her friend asked, “So is he still a dickhead?”
Cali considered it. “Let’s just say, he’s a smaller dickhead than I thought.”
Tanya grabbed Cali’s arm. “I’m scared to ask if you mean that literally.”
They giggled like teens all the way inside.
~
Brit heard laughter, but didn’t look back. If he did, he was afraid he would go snatch her up and kiss her like he wanted to, like he felt damn sure she wanted to be kissed. But he had to leave. He had Keith’s and now Anderson’s killer to look for. And Susan to see. But not until he spoke to the security guard.
“Hi.” Brit approached the older man as he stepped from the car. “I’m Detective Lowell, HPD.” He purposely didn’t mention the homicide division. It usually made people nervous.
“Roberto Garcia. Retired HPD. What can I do for you?”
Brit liked knowing the guard had carried a real badge and offered the man his hand. “It’s about one of your teachers.”
“Someone in trouble with the law?”
“Nothing like that. You know Cali McKay?”
The quick smile made the old man look younger. “She baked me a cake for my birthday last year. Don’t know how the woman knew it was my birthday, but I tell you, she’s one angel.”
An odd sense of pride swelled in Brit’s chest, as if Cali was his to be proud of. “
Yeah. Well, there’s trouble with one of her old boyfriends.”
“Stalking her?”
Brit glanced back to where Cali had parked. “Her car was vandalized yesterday.”
Garcia frowned. “It could just be a kid. You have no idea what—”
“I don’t think so. This guy’s trouble. I have a mug shot in my car. I want you to take a look at it. Keep an eye out. We believe he’s driving a white Ford pickup. An older model.”
They walked back to Brit’s SUV. He reached into his file and took out the mug shot.
The man studied it intently. “What’s he wanted for?”
“We’re looking at him for a murder,” Brit answered.
“That serious, huh?” Garcia frowned. “How did someone like Cali get mixed up with someone like that?”
The question hit hard. “Just watch out for him.” Brit reached into his front pocket. “My card. If you even think you see him, call me, then call 9-1-1. Don’t try to apprehend him yourself. But keep him away from Cali.”
“Don’t worry. I owe Miss McKay.” Garcia widened his shoulders. “I may look like an old codger, but I still got it.”
“I don’t doubt it.” Brit shook the man’s hand again. Garcia’s grip held firm, solid. Getting in his car, Brit felt better about leaving Cali. A little better.
Chapter Eighteen
Before heading home, Brit stopped by his office to feed Mama Cat. Good thing he had, too. He ran into Duke and his partner and they told him they had interviews set with a few gang members about to go down for some other small charges. They hoped when pressed, they might offer up some info on Keith’s murder for leniency on their charge. Brit almost told them he would go with them, but remembered his date with his sister.
Before he left the precinct, he got wind of a rumor that a task force was being formed to track down the cop killers. Brit marched into Sergeant Adams’ office and demanded he be added to the team.
Adams perched his elbows on the desk. “Keith was your partner. Being too close to a case can get in the way.”
“I’m the one who found the only lead we’ve got right now.” Brit clenched his fists. “Every one of you pushed this case off as a random killing. I knew better. Being close to this case isn’t going to get in my way. Put me on it, or I’ll just work it on my own.” Brit met Adams’ stare.
“You look like shit. When was the last time you slept?”
“I’m fine. Let me work eight to two, then I’ll come back and work half a shift on third. I swear I won’t let you down. I’m putting in more hours than that now. I need this, damn it!”
The man clenched his jaws. “You’ll stay grounded?”
“Yeah.” Hope stirred in Brit’s gut.
Adams’ brow puckered. “We’ll start tomorrow. But– ”
“I’ll be here tomorrow.” Brit didn’t want to hear any buts.
“Fine. Go home and sleep. And, oh yeah, stop feeding those damn cats.”
“It’s not me,” Brit lied and only felt slightly guilty. Keith wouldn’t have stopped feeding them no matter what Adams thought. Neither would Mike Anderson.
“Bullshit,” Adams said.
~
Brit went home—after he fed the cats—not to sleep, but to eat crow from his sister. If he was lucky, he could eat crow, then crash a couple of hours before taking her out to a make—up lunch.
He walked in his house and found Susan in the kitchen pouring coffee. “You talking to me?”
“Let’s see.” She smirked. “You forget I’m coming down, you forget to pick me up at the airport, you spend thirty minutes with me then go to bed, leave, and don’t come home for twenty—four hours.” Her finger wagged at him. “Tell me you weren’t out breaking some woman’s heart last night, and I might forgive you.”
“I wasn’t breaking any hearts.” Brit opened the fridge and found it stocked. “Food. I love you.” He pulled out the milk and filled a glass to the rim.
“I’ll believe you love me when you show up at Mom’s party tomorrow night.”
Brit guzzled the milk, then frowned. “What time?”
“I’ve only told you three times. I’ve sent you an email invite and snail mail.” Her mouth thinned. “It’s at six in the afternoon at Fancies’ Restaurant and Bar. It’s two blocks down from that gym you used to belong to.”
“Okay.” Brit gaped at the bluish milk in his glass.
“Okay, you’ll be there?” she asked.
“I will do everything in my power to be there.”
Susan’s chin snapped up. “I don’t like how that sounds.”
He finished his milk, even though it had no taste. “Look, sis, I promise if I can, I’ll be there. I’m drowning in work. There’s Keith and Anderson’s case, Cali’s case, and—”
“Who’s Cali?”
“She’s just a girl in trouble and I’m trying to help.”
“Was that who you were with last night? Why you didn’t come this morning?”
He leaned against the fridge. “Yes, but it’s not like you think. We’re not together.”
“She married?”
“No.”
“Is she engaged, old or ugly?”
He got an image of Cali coming out of the bathroom this morning—wearing a pair of loose khaki slacks and her pink sweater.
“Well?”
“No. She’s prim and proper.”
“Which means you haven’t had sex with her?”
“And we probably won’t have sex.” The probably in the sentence gave him a jolt. Hadn’t he already gone over this in his mind, convinced himself this shouldn’t happen? Yeah, but that changed when he’d seen her eat a donut. Or was it when he saw her in her pink panties? Maybe it was when he saw the pain in her eyes and she cried on his shoulder.
“Why not?” Susan’s eyebrow arched up.
He ran a hand over his chest. “Because she’s not my type.”
“So she’s prim and proper and ugly, huh?”
“No. She’s. . .” Too much like our mom. But damn, he didn’t really believe that, did he? He remembered the guard asking how Cali could have gotten mixed up with someone wanted for murder. Did getting messed up with a lowlife make a woman a doormat?
“Was that her sweater you were sniffing? Hmm?”
“Don’t hmm me.” He yanked her ponytail. “Can I catch a few Z’s before I take you out for a fantastic lunch?”
“I insist on it.” She kissed his cheek. “Oh, I went by your office this morning on my way to meet Mom for breakfast.” She brushed a lock of hair from his brow. “Your partner said you’d taken off early.”
“I did.” Brit set the glass in the sink.
“He seems nice.” A sly smile teased the corners of her mouth. “Is he married?”
“Quarles? John Quarles?”
“Yeah.”
Brit frowned. “Why do you care?”
“Because he asked me to have breakfast with him.”
“I thought you were meeting Mom.”
“I was, and I did. But he asked for a rain check.” Her smile faded. “What’s wrong? Is he married? Gay? A womanizer?”
“No. He’s not married, not gay, but all men are womanizers.” He pointed at her. “I don’t want you seeing him.”
“Why not?” She snapped her chin up.
“Because if you have sex with him, I might hear about it. And then I’ll have to kill him. That’s a brother’s job. To kill any asshole who has sex with his sister.”
Susan laughed. “I tell you what, if I have sex with him, I’ll tell him not to brag about how good I was. How’s that?”
“Friggin’ fantastic,” Brit snapped. “No. Seriously, no. Don’t go there.”
Her eyes went tight. “I think I’ve grown past the age where little brother tells big sis what she can and can’t do. So give up trying.” She nudged him in the ribs. “Now, go get some sleep.”
That didn’t mean she was going to date Quarles, did it? Too tired to think straight, too tired to
argue, he shuffled down the hall.
“Hey?” Susan voice made him pause at his bedroom door. “Are you going to bring Cali to Mom’s party? There’s going to be dancing.”
“No,” he called back over his shoulder and crawled into the bed, fluffed the pillow, and waited for sheer exhaustion to take him under. By God, he needed to sleep. Sleep like he had last night for those few hours at Cali’s hotel room. Deep sleep.
Real sleep.
Instead, he tossed and turned, and his mind flipped images in his head—images of Keith, of the two corpses, and images of Cali in pink lacy underwear. He didn’t know how his mind could change channels from the horror of death to a soft woman in sexy pink underwear, but his mind did what it wanted. He finally dozed off, but he never fell into a deep sleep.
At eleven he got up and showered. Walking into his bedroom, he tugged on the towel hanging around his waist, visions of pink underwear still dangled in his mind. He tried to call Cali at the school. Her main line rang, but a machine picked up. He smiled when he heard Cali’s voice on the recording. Dropping the phone, he didn’t leave a message. But he called back again just to put a voice to the fantasy that had teased him awake. The one where he’d finally removed those panties.
~
The message machine on Cali’s desk blinked. Two hang ups that listed as an unknown number. She turned a pencil in her hand and wondered why she expected to hear from Brit. She was a case to him. That’s all she wanted it to be.
She started drawing hearts on a notepad. Liar, she thought and scratched out a heart. She wanted more. But deep down, she knew this was one lie she needed to overlook. Plain and simple, she was in no emotional shape to let what she felt for Brit go anywhere.
She remembered what the counselor said. She had a tendency to fall for men like her dear old dad. Men who yelled and threw things. Men who left.
Then she remembered what her mom said. She was a fixer. And Brit Lowell needed fixing. Just like she did. Was it wrong to want to fix someone who was in the same boat you were in?
Releasing her hair from the banana clip, she stared at the phone. Then she remembered the call she’d told herself she’d make.
Murder Mayhem and Mama Page 15