Badge of Honor

by Justine Davis

  Kit sighed. "It's such a waste."

  "I know. But those kids, they don't see any other choice. Sometimes it comes down to something very basic—join up or die."

  Kit had no answer to that. It was true, and she knew it. They went through the reports once more and found nothing that seemed to have any significance. Kit gathered the papers and stuffed them into the envelope. Miguel watched her close the envelope and fasten it with the metal clasp.

  "I think perhaps we should keep these files in my office, rather than yours."

  Kit's gaze shot to his face. "You do?"

  "I'd rather they be in my possession than yours. No one can really question why I have them, and there's less that he can do."

  He didn't define the "he" and Kit didn't have to ask. "All right," she said carefully. "That's probably a good idea."

  He gave her a sideways look. "I've worked for the man, too, Kit. He was my sergeant when I first came on."

  "And you survived?" she quipped.

  "Barely," he said, his tone dry. "But I'm quite aware of his management style."

  And he obviously knew quite well Robards's unpleasant style included snooping and spying on his people whenever he got the chance, Kit thought. He probably even knew the running joke as Trinity West slowly joined the computer age was that Robards was torn between hating the new technology and liking the fact that he would be able to conveniently spy on all his subordinates from one place.

  She wondered if there was anything that went on in Trinity West this man didn't know about. Wondered how he'd managed to reach the top of the heap and still hang onto his understanding of what it was like to be a street cop, to be part of that thin blue line, part of a world no one who hadn't been in it could ever really understand. Wondered how he'd kept his sense of fairness, his courteous manner through the various public, media-hyped incidents that had put some tarnish on the shields of all police, and through his own personal tragedies.

  But he'd done it all. In a time when Trinity West—and the city of Marina Heights—had threatened to implode, he had taken over and turned it around. He'd begun by running things with what bordered on a siege mentality, rebuilding the bond between the men and women of Trinity West until they were once more a cohesive unit.

  Once he had a functional force again, he had turned his attention to a city on the edge of disintegration. He had adapted techniques some detractors had called nothing less than guerrilla warfare, but no one had been able to argue with the spectacular results. The detractors had been largely ignored as troublemaking outsiders. The law-abiding residents of Marina Heights called their new police chief a miracle worker.

  It was an honor to work for him. It was an honor to have his trust.

  Kit just hoped she didn't destroy that trust by doing something stupid. Like letting him know she was having a lot of trouble looking at him as the chief. Like telling him that Miguel the man was overtaking Chief de los Reyes. Like letting it slip that the buffer first Anna, then his rank had always been, weren't working too well anymore. Like asking him what he meant when he said sometimes it was the source more than the compliment.

  She wondered if the most dangerous part of this entire situation for her wasn't going to turn out to be, not Robards, but the simple fact that she was going to be spending time with a man who could all too easily turn her life upside down.

  * * *

  Chapter 9

  «^»

  "You're sure you can't stay for lunch, Kit?"

  Kit smiled at Kelsey Gregerson and regretfully shook her head. "As much as I hate to miss out, I'm playing hooky as it is."

  She meant it. One of Kelsey's meals wasn't something she refused lightly. Between Kelsey and her friend Dolores Lamana, the Oak Tree Inn was gaining quite a reputation for fine food. And for ambiance, as well, and well deserved, Kit thought as she looked around. The large room that served as a lobby and gathering place was a charming haven of soft tans spiked by touches of rich, deep green and jewel red. Two comfortable sofas and a couple of temptingly cushioned chairs were arranged invitingly near a stone fireplace, and before them was a low table that held the cups of fragrant, perfectly brewed coffee Kelsey had fixed when her unexpected guest had dropped in. With the knack of a true innkeeper, Kelsey had never turned a hair, but welcomed Kit with every evidence of delight.

  Kit took a sip of the rich, savory liquid. She'd also meant it about playing hooky. She was taking a risk being gone this long when Robards was riding her back, but she'd finally located the cop who'd been there the night of Jaime Rivas's murder, and since Welton had been going out of town on three weeks vacation, she'd had little choice but to catch him before he left. The side benefit had been his proximity to Kelsey's place.

  "I don't know how you do it," Kit said. "Keeping this place going, plus your shelter in town."

  The inn was a good hour outside Marina Heights. Kelsey's shelter for runaways was in the heart of the worst part of the city. A lifelong runaway, Kelsey had been running a sort of halfway house out of the inn before she'd met and fallen for Cruz, which had brought her well-intentioned but unsanctioned activities to a halt

  Her shelter in town, which she had dubbed Oak Tree East, was beginning to reap the benefits of the reputation she'd built. The runaway grapevine was as effective as the old hobo grapevine had been, and kids knew they could come to her for food and shelter and that she would give it to them before making them face any questions. Her rules were simple but strictly enforced—no drugs, no booze, you agree to get some kind of help to resolve the problem you're running from, and you tell her the truth.

  She'd been where they were, Kit thought, and that's why it worked, why they trusted her. But whatever the reason, Kit admired the green-eyed woman tremendously and did whatever she could to help out, as she did with Caitlin Romero and her Neutral Zone. Kit was convinced the answer to handling runaways lay with people like them more than with the police.

  "It's not easy," Kelsey admitted. "But Sam does a lot around here, and Cruz helps when he can. He's learned the basics of being a good innkeeper, so I can spend time at the shelter."

  Kit smiled. "He's got the personality for it." Kelsey smiled at her. "Yes. Rock solid, kind, thoughtful, good-natured…"

  "Don't forget drop-dead gorgeous," Kit teased. "That, too," Kelsey agreed with an easy laugh. She knew Cruz and Kit had once dated, but Kit had made sure Kelsey knew she was more delighted than anyone about the love they'd found.

  "Speaking of drop-dead gorgeous, I understand you had company last night at the Neutral Zone."

  Kit instantly felt her cheeks heat and tried to cover it with a laugh. "Nothing wrong with your grapevines, runaway or otherwise."

  "Someone mentioned it to Caitlin, who mentioned it to me. After all, the chief of Marina Heights PD doesn't pay many visits to the Neutral Zone."

  "He's afraid he'll scare the kids away if they find out who he is."

  Kelsey studied her. "Considerate of him. But then, from what I've seen, Chief de los Reyes is every inch a gentleman."

  And every inch drop-dead gorgeous, Kit thought. Every inch she'd seen, anyway. And she didn't doubt the rest of him matched. Not that she'd be averse to finding out firsthand—

  She made herself stop. She'd been spending far too much time in that particular rut of late. It seemed every time she wasn't completely focused on something else, the images would slip into her mind. Vivid, heated images of what it would be like to kiss him, what it would be like to hold him, to touch that long, lean body, to have him touch her in turn, to see the gentlemanly calm leave him, replaced by the rising heat of desire. The desire she had, in her wilder moments, fancied she'd seen in his eyes, brief, fleeting glimpses of a need she'd never expected, never dared to hope for, not for her, not from him.

  "Kit?"

  Kelsey's gentle, curious prompt made Kit realize she'd been sitting there lusting after the man for far too long. She spoke quickly.

  "He did cause quite a stir with the kids.
The girls, anyway."

  "All of them?" Kelsey asked with an arched brow.

  Instantly on guard, afraid Kelsey had somehow read her mind, Kit asked, "Meaning?"

  "Oh, nothing. Just that he's a very attractive man, you've always liked him, and Cruz says he thinks the world of you."

  Kit blinked. "He said that to Cruz?" Miguel had told her in other words that he respected and admired her, but the fact that he'd said it to Cruz startled her.

  Kelsey nodded. "Cruz told me the chief told him once that when he was shot, sometimes the only thing that kept him going through the pain was knowing you'd show up sometime that day with some silly joke or something. He said he used to tell him lf he could hang on at least that long, until you got there, and when he made it that far, he knew he'd make it through the rest of the day."

  "My God," Kit breathed. He'd told her her visits had meant a lot to him, but she'd had no idea…

  "So, come on, girlfriend, spill it. What's going on? What brought the elusive and ever so eligible Miguel de los Reyes to the Neutral Zone? I figure it must have been you."

  "Hardly," Kit said wryly. "He—" Kit broke off, realizing she shouldn't be mentioning the case, even to Kelsey. In fact, especially to Kelsey. Her marriage to another of Robards's beleaguered detectives could put her in a very awkward place, should all of this blow up in their faces.

  "Don't underestimate yourself, Ms. Walker. The guys all think he'll never get married again, but we girls think you just might be the one to change his mind."

  "Change his— Married?"

  Kit nearly squeaked in shock that this had been a topic of discussion among Kelsey and Caitlin, probably Lacey Buckhart, too. Hell, probably little Sam had even gotten in on the act, and maybe Laurey, by phone from Seattle, she thought ruefully.

  Kelsey laughed at her tone and the expression Kit was sure was on her face. "Don't be so shocked. It happens to the best of us. And all of us agree, the two of you are definitely among the best of us."

  Kit took a deep breath and tried for equilibrium. After a moment she thought she could risk speech. "So that's it. Since all of you are so annoyingly happy, you want to spread it around, and you picked us two poor singles to target."

  "Of course," Kelsey said brightly. "There aren't many more we care that much about, and you two are obviously perfect for each other. And it's not like there's any rule against it at Trinity West, after all, not like there is in some places."

  Kit shook her head. "Forget it, Kelsey. There are more reasons this is a crazy idea than I can count."

  "Such as?"

  "Such as I work for him, which could put us both in hot water. Such as he's been a friend for years, and I don't want to mess that up. Such as I was a good friend of Anna's. Such as he still loves her. Such as the guys are probably right."

  Kelsey gave her a look of satisfaction that stopped just short of being smug. "I see you've been seriously thinking about it, to come up with all those so quickly."

  Kit didn't even try to hide her blush. She knew it was useless. "You," she said, "are a dangerous woman."

  "So my husband tells me." Then, seriously, Kelsey added, "We've all faced problems that seemed insurmountable at the time, Kit. You know what Cruz and I went through, and Caitlin and Quisto after that boy was murdered. Gage and Laurey had to get past the fact that he arrested her, for heaven's sake. And look at Lacey and Ryan. They had to overcome the death of their baby, to forgive each other so much…"

  Kit felt a sudden moisture in her eyes as she remembered Ryan in those days after Lacey had divorced him. He was the biggest, strongest man she knew, and Lacey had brought him to his knees. But he'd never stopped loving her, nor she him, and now they stood together in a united front like none she'd seen.

  God, she had to stop this, or Kelsey was going to have her believing it was possible, and she knew it wasn't.

  "I've got to go," she said abruptly. "I have an appointment at eleven." She got to her feet, then realized how short she had sounded. "Kelsey, I—"

  "Never mind." Kelsey waved off the apology she'd begun with a smile. "Believe me, I understand. I've been there. And I shouldn't have teased you about it. It's between you two and nobody else's business."

  "Thank you," Kit said.

  "But we'll still hope," Kelsey warned with a grin, ending the conversation on a cheerful note.

  Kit took her leave with a smile, but her mind was seizing on just how long it had been since she'd been any part of a joint "you." Very long. That was probably why she was all messed up—she'd been alone too long. She'd tried, a couple of years after Bobby's death, to get out, to meet people, but it had always seemed more trouble than it was worth, and except for the brief time with Cruz she'd either been bored or annoyed, and the time spent had seemed a waste.

  But it had been eleven years since she'd buried the man she'd loved, and it was time to get on with her personal life-if she ever wanted to have one again.

  She wished that when she thought about it, her mind didn't always plunk Miguel de los Reyes right in the middle of that imagined life.

  * * *

  She was halfway to Trinity West when her pager went off. She glanced at it and saw that it was a message from Betty. The detective secretary didn't normally page for routine calls, so this had to be something out of the ordinary.

  Robards, Kit thought grimly as she reached for her cell phone.

  Maybe he was asking Betty about where Kit was. She'd made sure she had a legitimate reason for being out of the city—she needed to talk to a rape victim who lived near the Oak Tree Inn. The visit to see Kelsey had been an extra she'd write off as her lunch period if she had to, no problem there. It was her appointment with the former Trinity West cop she had to be careful about. She didn't want to have to explain that.

  "Betty?" she said when the woman answered. "It's Kit."

  "Oh, good," she said, not sounding particularly ruffled, as Kit imagined she would if Robards had been riding her. Kit relaxed slightly. "You got the page?" Betty asked, rather unnecessarily; she always seemed a bit amazed that such pieces of technology actually worked.

  "Yes," Kit said. "What's up?"

  "Well, usually I won't page you for just a phone message to return the call, but since it was the chief…"

  Kit's relaxation vanished. "The chief called? For me?" She'd told him where she was going this morning, and she wondered lf he'd found out something she needed to know.

  "Oh, don't worry," Betty said soothingly, "he didn't sound angry or anything. Not that he ever gets angry, but you know what I mean."

  "Yes," Kit said again. "What did he want?"

  "Why, didn't I say? To call him back."

  With a sigh Kit pressed on. "That's all he said?"

  "Yes."

  "All right." Then, as something else occurred to her, she asked, "Why didn't you just page me to his number?"

  "Oh, because he's not here. He's at city hall."

  Kit sighed again. She adored Betty, but she'd been beyond distracted of late. Her young granddaughter was getting married—to the relief of all the single men of Trinity West, who had raised dodging Betty's efforts to set them up with the rather bubble-headed young lady down to a fine science—and her concentration seemed shot.

  But her distraction of late gave Kit a patience she might not have otherwise had. "Did he leave the number there?"

  She heard the embarrassed laugh. "Oh, dear, of course. I don't know where my mind is," said the usually efficient woman.

  I know just how you feel, Kit thought. Except she pretty much knew where her mind was. She just wished it would quit going there.

  "Here it is," Betty said, rattling off the number. Kit keyed it into the number pad of the cell phone, thankful for the feature that let her do that while still on one call, then hang up and dial the next. Which she did as soon as Betty had apologized once more and hung up.

  She used the time as it was ringing to steady herself, to be sure she was braced to hear his voice and n
ot let her mind shoot to her conversation with Kelsey. She was concentrating so hard that when a strange, female voice answered she was taken aback.

  "City manager's office."

  Poor Miguel, Kit thought. Two days in a row fighting city hall.

  She identified herself and asked for him, saying she was returning his call. She was subjected to several moments of annoyingly bland canned music and wondered if the stuff was piped into city hall. She thought they'd get a lot more done if they had a little country or rock or even some Vivaldi to listen to.

  Funny, she didn't know what Miguel liked in the way of music anymore. And that was usually something she found out early about a person. Music was important in her life, and she believed taste in music and reading told you more about a person than just about anything else. Years ago he'd played a lot of rock, but that had been Anna's choice. Classical would seem to fit him now, she thought. She could picture him with Mozart booming. Which means, she thought with a grin, he probably adored heavy metal. Or maybe—

  "Kit?"

  She was startled by his voice. She'd been so lost in her speculations that when she heard him it seemed as if she'd somehow conjured him up, and it was an instant before it all came back to her.

  "Hi," she managed to say. "I got your page."

  "Page?"

  "You wanted me to call?"

  "I called your office, but I told Betty I'd get you later."

  "But she said—" Kit sighed. "Never mind. I'll just be glad when that wedding's over."

  She heard him chuckle, a low, husky sound she thought far too sensual to be used in a city manager's office. "I gather she's a bit distracted."

  "And then some. But she'll get over it and get back to being Betty of the iron hand soon. Did you need me?"

  There was a pause that made her wonder what he was thinking. And gave her time to wish she hadn't said it like that. God, her mind was charting its own reckless course these days. She had no room to talk about Betty.

  "I wanted to know how it went today," he finally said. "It was interesting," she said carefully, not sure she wanted to talk about it on a too easily monitored cell phone. And he picked up on her hesitation as easily as if he could read her mind.