The Lawman

by Martha Shields

  What?

  There was a reason she shouldn’t be doing this…wasn’t there?

  Was there? What reason could she possibly have for not wanting these delicious sensations dancing through her? Was she nuts?

  Right this moment she wanted everything, and she wanted it to continue until she melted into the stars.

  Jake worked a hand around her butt and slipped it under the back strap of her thong. He slowly worked his hand down, lower, closer to the hot, wet spot where Tabitha wanted to feel the pressure of—

  Brrring.

  The ringing brought both their heads up.

  “What is it?” she asked, still dazed.

  “My cell phone,” he concluded, then captured her lips again.

  The phone continued to ring.

  Tabitha tore her mouth away. “Aren’t you going to answer it?”

  “No.” He attacked her neck. “It’s just one of my men reporting in.”

  She shoved ineffectually at his broad shoulders. “How do you know?”

  He glared at her, but finally eased her down and she let her legs drop.

  He grabbed his phone, then showed it to her as she pulled her skirt down. “Exactly as I thought. See the time? They report in every thirty minutes, assuming nothing has happened.”

  She pulled down her jacket with a snap. “So answer it.”

  Jake hit the talk button.

  As he barked into the phone, Tabitha took the opportunity to escape into the other room. Breathing deeply, she heard him ask several curt questions.

  Billy had settled down in the carrier, but peeked out at her with killer eyes.

  She decided not to touch the carrier.

  Jake stepped into the room. “Everything’s fine. It could’ve waited.”

  She moved into the kitchen area to find Billy’s food. “But you didn’t know that.”

  “Damn, Tabitha, we were—”

  “No, Jake.” She turned to face him across the counter.

  He glared at her. “But you were—”

  “No, Jake.”

  Three strides brought him to the other side of the counter. “Why the hell can’t you—”

  “You’re a cop.”

  His eyes narrowed.

  Having said it all, Tabitha picked up the cat food and started for the door. “Bring the cat, will you?”

  Six

  Billy let out one long howl when Jake picked up the carrier, then crouched in the bottom like a ceramic Foo dog. When he stepped out onto the landing, Tabitha was already down the stairs.

  “The door doesn’t lock without a key, and you have the key,” he said.

  “We still have to get the cat litter and litter box,” she called without turning around. “And some of his toys. Cats love toys.”

  “You’re a hell of a lot of trouble, you know that?” Jake mumbled to the cat as he automatically took advantage of the view to glance around. “Why I ever suggested we take you with us is be—”

  His thoughts scattered as his eyes registered movement at the corner of the house. He zeroed in on the bush there. It was still now. Had it moved, or was he seeing danger in every shadow?

  “Are you coming down or not?” Tabitha asked from the bottom of the steps. “I can’t get past you with—”

  He cut off her impatient remark with a slice of his free hand.

  “What is it?” Her voice was lower and vibrated with tension.

  There it was again. Someone was watching them from the bush at the far corner of Mrs. Brody’s house.

  Jake set the cat on the landing and grabbed the cell phone from his waist.

  One of the officers on Euclid Street picked on the first ring. “Yes, sir?”

  “We’ve got a Peeping Tom. Converge on the Brody residence. Don’t know what we’re dealing with, so load for bear.”

  “Roger.”

  “Call for backup. Out.”

  Jake ran down the stairs.

  “What…?” Tabitha sputtered.

  “Get down,” Jake ordered as he ran past her. “And stay down!”

  Sirens sang as he sprinted across the backyard, ducking under a clothesline with clothespins still attached.

  When he cleared it, he saw the bush at the corner of the house quivering, as if settling from having been shaken violently.

  The perp was on the run. He wouldn’t get far.

  Jake rounded the corner and saw the small, dark-haired man hesitate as he hit the sidewalk, looking down the street at the squad cars racing toward him. Maybe he’d just give up and go.

  No such luck. He sprinted across the street for all he was worth.

  One of the squad cars peeled to a stop seconds behind the suspect, swinging around so the headlights caught him running. Both officers leaped from the car with their guns already drawn.

  “Halt! Police!”

  The suspect kept running, so both officers started after him.

  Jake was several yards behind them. He crossed the street just as the other squad car screeched to a halt. He could hear more sirens in the distance, closing in. They would seal off the next few blocks, allowing no escape for Hines—if this was him—or his lookout.

  The younger officer ahead outsprinted both his partner and Jake. He grabbed the suspect’s feet just as he was heaving himself over a six-foot wooden fence. A kicking and yanking match ensued.

  “Hold on!” Jake called.

  Two seconds later, the officer’s partner grabbed the other foot, and the two of them pulled the suspect to the ground.

  The older officer turned him over and the younger one shone his flashlight on the suspect’s face. “Ronny Stubbs!”

  Jake halted just behind them. They knew him. Good. Since Hines was a local criminal, it stood to reason his friends would be, too, and as such, known by the Mission Creek police.

  The officers parted to let Jake view a panting, wide-eyed boy who couldn’t have been more than fourteen.

  Jake eyed the officers casually backing away. “Why aren’t you restraining the suspect?”

  The younger officer blinked. “He’s a kid.”

  Jake’s face hardened. “I’ve seen kids commit crimes you wouldn’t believe an adult would commit, that any human being would commit. So don’t assume he’s harmless just because he’s a kid.”

  “He is harmless, sir,” the older cop, Officer Clement, said.

  “You know him?”

  “He’s a friend of Gaylon, my son.”

  “How old is he?”

  “Well, they’ve just started the ninth grade. Gaylon’s fourteen.” Clement tapped Ronny’s athletic shoes with his boot. “You fourteen, too, boy?”

  “Yes, sir.” The boy swiped his nose. “Last May.”

  “Hell.” Feeling his adrenaline drop back into the realm of normal, Jake squatted in front of the teenager. “You know what’s going on in Mission Creek, Ronny?”

  The boy’s eyes brightened. “Yes, sir. A doctor and a nurse at the hospital were kidnapped. Do you have any clues yet?”

  Surprised at the only slightly daunted enthusiasm, Jake peered up.

  Clement rolled his eyes. “Ronny’s wanted to be a police officer ever since I can remember. He’s always following squad cars on his bike and asking me questions.”

  Several more officers ran up then, guns and flashlights pointed at the suspect.

  The younger officer turned to them. “False alarm. All we got is a curious kid.”

  The new arrivals relaxed, and one of them asked, “Free to go, Chief?”

  “Yeah,” Jake said over his shoulder. “Get back on patrol.”

  “Roger that.”

  As all but the original two filed away, Jake turned to the boy. The kid was shaking. Jake patted the boy’s shin. “It’s okay, Ronny. We’re not going to arrest you.”

  “You’re not?”

  “Not this time.” Jake kept a smile off his face with difficulty. “Why? Is there some reason we should?”

  The boy straightened. “No, sir! I
wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize my chances with the department.”

  “Then don’t run next time. And don’t hide in bushes when the entire Mission Creek Police Department is on code red.”

  “No, sir. I mean yes, sir. I mean I won’t, sir.”

  Finally allowing himself to smile, Jake stood and offered him a hand up. “You live around here?”

  Ronny nodded and pointed west. “Yes, sir. One street over from Euclid. I knew you might be coming around to check on Caitlyn Matthews’s apartment, so I’ve been watching.”

  “Well, stay out of the way from here on out,” Jake said. “If you’d been any faster, we might have been forced to fire, and that wouldn’t have been fun for you or the officer who shot you.”

  The boy visibly paled. “I will, sir.”

  Jake nodded toward the west. “Get on home, then.”

  The boy took off.

  “Kids,” the younger officer said with disgust as they followed at a more leisurely pace.

  “You might be looking at the future of the MCPD,” Jake said.

  “God help us,” the older officer muttered.

  Jake left them at their squad car and headed back down Mrs. Brody’s driveway. As he turned the corner, he spotted Tabitha high up on the stairs, silhouetted by the light on the landing above her. She watched the opposite corner intently, the one where he’d disappeared earlier.

  She seemed worried. About him, perhaps?

  Something in him wanted to think so.

  Or was she worried that Hines was after her now?

  Whatever. He was just glad she’d stayed put, though she hadn’t stayed down like he’d told her. He was also glad she hadn’t witnessed half the Mission Creek police force converging on a kid who could barely call himself a teenager.

  That reminded him of her disappointment in him earlier, when he’d been questioning the hospital employees. She’d accused him of believing the worst of people.

  Jake frowned. Was she right? Did he always believe people were guilty until they proved themselves innocent? What if Officer Clement hadn’t been there today? Would Jake have hauled Ronny in and had him interrogated?

  He drove a hand back through his hair.

  Probably.

  But, hell, it was his job to be extra careful, wasn’t it? And with the situation the way it was, he had to check the source of every shadow. He was responsible for the outcome of this situation, and he damn well wanted to do things right.

  Still, it had only been a small-town kid who yearned to play cop.

  Jake straightened his shoulders and focused again on Tabitha, who hadn’t taken her eyes off the other side of the yard.

  Okay, maybe there was a grain of truth in what she’d said. Maybe he should start being a tad more optimistic about people, start trying to see the good before he looked for the bad.

  She certainly looked good to—

  He cut off his thought with disgust. One thing he didn’t need was Miss Zen-on-Speed. She had her head up her feng shui.

  Plus, she hated cops, and he didn’t know how to be anything else.

  To get away from the frown that thought provoked, Jake continued on down the driveway. After a few more yards he must have caught her eye, because her head snapped around.

  “Jake!” She ran down the stairs and over to the car, where he stood. She stopped on a dime several feet away, as if she’d just realized the depth of her reaction. “What happened?”

  “False alarm.”

  She deflated. “Another one?”

  “Yep.” He reached for the passenger door handle. “Wait. We still have to get—”

  “I brought everything down,” she said.

  He looked at her, strangely disappointed. If she’d been busy toting the cat and all his paraphernalia down the stairs, she couldn’t have been that worried about him. “Okay.”

  When he made no move to open her door, she asked, “Am I going home by myself?”

  “No.”

  “You’re driving me?”

  “Yes.”

  She nodded, looked away, then back at him. “Are you going back to the hospital?”

  “No.”

  A wrinkled creased her forehead. “To the police station?”

  “No.”

  She reached for the door handle. “Fine, don’t tell me. Sleep in the desert, for all I care.”

  His hand closed over hers. He felt a slight shiver run up her arm, and knew she was far from indifferent. “I’m staying with you.”

  Her eyes were wide as saucers as she looked at him. “Oh, no, you’re not.”

  He nodded. “Hines might call.”

  “But I—”

  “Need help and protection.”

  She searched his eyes. “If you think you’re sleeping with me, you’re—”

  “I never said that.”

  She straightened her shoulders. “Just as long as you understand. Because you’re not. You can have the couch.”

  “A couch will be a heavenly cloud compared to some places I’ve slept while on duty.”

  She raised a pale brow. “I can imagine.”

  He opened the car door for her. When she’d seated herself with stiff dignity, he closed the door and slipped behind the steering wheel. After glancing back at the cat, who glared at him from the carrier, he turned on the ignition. “What would you like to eat?”

  She sighed. “If we go somewhere, we’re bound to run into reporters. They’re all over town. And we’ll be questioned within an inch of our sanity.”

  “Order pizza from your place?”

  “How about if I cook something for you?” She placed a hand over her stomach. “The thought of a greasy pizza is not appealing.”

  “I don’t want to put you to a lot of effort,” he said.

  She lifted a shoulder. “I have some chicken in the refrigerator. I was going to make chicken marsala.”

  Jake’s mouth began to water. “I love chicken marsala, but I haven’t had it in…I don’t know, years, probably.”

  She frowned at him, as if she didn’t like the idea that they shared even something as insignificant as a favorite dish. “I live on Hayward Street.”

  “I know.”

  She sighed and twisted to wave at Mrs. Brody, who’d stepped onto her back porch. “Somehow, I knew you would.”

  Tabitha groaned when she saw the horde of reporters lounging on her front lawn. “They’re going to ruin my flower beds.”

  The horde perked up when they saw the squad cars ahead of Tabitha’s pull onto Hayward Street.

  Jake snapped open his cell phone and punched two numbers. “Back those people off onto the street. They’re trespassing.”

  He pushed a button and closed the phone.

  “I don’t have a No Trespassing sign,” Tabitha said.

  “Doesn’t matter. It’s private property, and they know it.” He eased off the gas and pulled over to the side of the road.

  “What are we doing?”

  “Waiting to let my men clear them out. Otherwise it’ll take half an hour to get from the car to the house.”

  The squad car behind them pulled around and joined the other officers in pushing the reporters off Tabitha’s lawn. When they were lined up on the street, Jake continued toward the house.

  Tabitha could hear the din of questions as they crowded the car when Jake pulled into her driveway. But they didn’t go past the officers standing guard where her driveway met the sidewalk.

  Though she wasn’t going to tell him, she was glad she had Jake with her. “These people are crazy.”

  “Nah. They just have an extremely aggressive and competitive job.” Jake turned off the ignition. “Nice house.”

  His comment brought her back to the fact that not only was he with her now, he was going to stay with her, for God knows how long. Squinting slightly, she tried to see her house as Jake would.

  She decided he wouldn’t really like it. Much too picket fence for him.

  The small frame hous
e was in an older, established neighborhood of Mission Creek, just a few blocks from where Caitlyn Matthews lived. It was the first house she’d ever owned, and she’d put a lot of sweat equity into it.

  Tabitha opened the car door and got out.

  The reporters immediately shouted questions at her.

  “Ignore them.”

  Tabitha reached into the back seat for the cat carrier. Then she stepped down her curved, flower-lined walkway.

  She’d painted the wooden siding of her house a restful green and the door—which faced south, the best feng shui direction for doors—was Chinese red. Red was the most powerful yang color and as such, attracted the dragon’s breath, which was the best kind of chi.

  But Jake wouldn’t know any of that. All he would see was a green house with a red door.

  As she unlocked the front door for him, she wondered if she should cover it, at least for now. The chi coming at her house from the crowd in the street was surely a killing shar.

  “Wait here,” he ordered.

  She waved a hand at the horde. “Surely no one could have gotten in past all that.”

  “I’m not taking any chances.”

  So she waited on her covered porch while he searched her house. Glancing up at the Pa Kau mirror she’d hung above the door, she wondered if it would be enough to reflect the bad energy. Was symbolic reflection always enough?

  She peered into the small entryway through the screen door. How long did it take to search such a small place? Tabitha’s house was about twice the size of Caitlyn’s apartment, but that wasn’t saying much.

  It was perfect for Tabitha, however.

  She had two bedrooms, one of which she used as an office. There was a living room, dining room and a remodeled kitchen, which she loved. She also had a walk-in pantry and a bathroom with a claw-foot tub. They all opened off a small square center hallway.

  A moment later, Jake came back into the entryway and pushed the screen door open for her. “I see you’ve used the same decor as your office.”

  She stepped in. “Of course.”

  “Early Chinese import store, where prices are cheaper by the dozen.”

  She ignored his sarcasm and headed straight for the blinds on the front of the house. She snapped them all shut, then flipped on the air conditioner in the living room to high. The loud hum of the window unit drowned out the din outside.