by Anna Sugden
“One of us!” Ben knew he should keep his words in check, but he couldn’t stop himself now, no matter who held the gun. “How dare you even think of yourself as part of the team.”
“Ben, stop it,” Delia warned him through closed teeth.
He only shook his head. He had one more button to push, and he wasn’t going to let her stop him. “Delia is more one of us than you ever could hope to be, you coward.”
He braced himself, but he didn’t have to wait for long. Grant lunged for him, allowing Delia to break free, and she bolted in the direction that Ben had tossed his gun. Another pair of headlights flashed suddenly, tracing along the row of cabins and throwing Grant off balance. Ben took that opportunity to charge him, tackling him to the ground and wresting with him for the gun. He had to get it from him, had to stop him.
Where was Delia? He had to make sure she was out of danger. Had she run back to the patrol car? He hoped so. He couldn’t let anything happen to her. Not on his watch.
“Drop the gun, Grant,” Delia called out.
But a shot pierced the night then, and Delia’s anguished cry followed. Ben braced himself, waiting. For the pain. For the burn. Had he been shot? With so much adrenaline pumping through his veins, would he know right away? Or was it Grant? Or, God forbid, was it Delia? It was so dark, he couldn’t tell. He’d done what he had to do. He’d tried to protect her. If he’d failed, he didn’t want to live anyway.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
“NO! BEN!”
He couldn’t die. He couldn’t. The man she loved couldn’t die for her ridiculous mistake. He didn’t deserve that—she did.
Delia rushed toward the two men in a heap on the ground. She must have been running in slow motion because someone ran up behind her and overtook her, reaching them before she did.
“Radio 620,” the man called into the radio microphone at his shoulder as he crouched over the two men. “Officer down. I need an ambulance at Brighton Recreation Area. Near Caroga Lake.”
He turned back to Delia. “Are you going to help or not?”
“Trevor?”
“Yeah, it’s me. Ben called me for backup. Now help me.”
Delia shook her head to clear it, holstered Ben’s weapon in her duty belt and crouched down beside him. Before they could even pull the two apart, someone moaned.
“Oh, Ben,” she said under her breath.
“I’m fine,” he said, though he winced.
He didn’t sound fine, but he was beneath Grant, so they carefully pulled Grant to the side. There was so much blood on the both of them. Dark. Wet. Delia patted her hands along Ben’s chest and shoulders, looking for the injury.
“It’s not me, Delia,” Ben said, pushing away her hands and sitting up.
Just then, Trevor, who’d been examining Grant for an injury, must have found something as the other officer grunted in pain.
“It’s going to be okay, buddy,” Trevor told him. “It’s just the shoulder. Help’s on the way.”
But Ben didn’t waste any time. He shifted over to crouch next to Grant, slipped out of his coat and yanked his sweater and undershirt over his head. After quickly rearranging his clothes, he folded over the T-shirt and applied direct pressure to Grant’s wound.
Delia settled in next to him, trying not to notice when he shifted slightly away from her.
“Thanks for everything. For coming. For calling in Trevor.”
“I knew you wouldn’t.”
She licked her lips. She’d deserved that, but she had to thank him, so she tried again. “I was so relieved when you got here. Who knows what would have happened if you hadn’t shown up like the cavalry.”
“You shouldn’t have gone in alone.”
“I know. But you were on the way. I was just so anxious to get answers that could help you—”
“Don’t worry. You’ll be officer-in-charge of this scene. I’m already in trouble for being here at all when I was supposed to be on leave.”
She shook her head. “What are you talking about?”
“You’ll get your chance to be in the spotlight, just the way you wanted.”
For several seconds, she only stared at him. Was that really what he thought of her?
She didn’t get to ask, though, as sirens announced the arrival of the ambulance. Grant would be headed to the hospital rather than a jail cell, at least initially, but his room would have an armed guard outside.
Just as the ambulance pulled away, Delia turned to find Trevor lumbering through the snow toward her.
“Helluva night, Trooper Morgan.”
“Yeah, thanks for coming in for backup.”
“No problem. Lieutenant Peterson called me in.”
“I figured.” Delia sneaked a glance at Ben, who looked away as soon as their gazes connected. Of course he would have called for backup. He’d asked her to do it, but hadn’t trusted her to follow instructions. He’d been right not to trust her.
“Hey, sorry about our little conversation the other night,” Trevor continued as she turned back to him. “I was doing some investigating of my own, and you were looking good as a suspect. Ben told me tonight that you two were investigating, as well.”
“I wasn’t doing such a bang-up job.”
“The suspect’s in custody.”
She nodded. Their investigation had been a success at least on that end. “Tell me one thing. What was the deal with the drug cases in Manistique?”
“Oh, you were doing your homework on me. Well, let’s just say when you arrest the daughter of the editor of the local weekly newspaper in a crystal meth sting, it’s amazing how much unfavorable coverage you get on the editorial pages.”
Well, she supposed that put one more mystery to rest.
Soon the area was overrun by crime scene technicians and other investigators, who needed to process the scene after the shooting. Delia tried several times to move closer to Ben, but he seemed to be avoiding her. After everything, was this how it would be between them now? Ben was right. She’d just gotten exactly what she’d wanted. She would be recognized for this case, which would affect dozens of drug cases, as well. She would have no trouble moving on to a higher-profile agency, just like she’d planned all along. Only now that she had what she wanted, it wasn’t what she wanted at all.
* * *
BEN RUBBED HIS temples as he hurried down the hall at the Brighton Post, still stinging from the tongue-lashing he’d sustained in Captain Polaski’s office. He just needed to get out of there, reach his car and make it home where he could treat his wounds, the ones that no one could see, in peace.
But Delia caught up with him before he made it out the door. “I need to talk to you.”
“Come on, Delia. It’s late. Can’t we deal with this later?” He was exhausted. Didn’t she understand that? He’d only experienced the type of fear he’d felt today one time before, and that was the day he’d lost his mother. The woman he loved could have been killed tonight.
“So you can avoid me the way you’ve been doing all night?”
“I haven’t been—” he began but didn’t bother finishing. He’d been doing exactly that. “What do you want to say?”
The squad room was mostly empty as the third-shifters were already out on patrol, but Delia shook her head. “Not here. Maybe we could go somewhere.”
“I’ve got to get home.”
She blew out a frustrated breath. “Then here.”
Delia led him into the interview room and closed the door behind them. He lowered into one of the two chairs at the table, but he didn’t want to look at her. The pain was too fresh, the fear a ripe wound.
She pointed to his sweater, still caked with Grant’s blood. He didn’t even want to think what might have happened if that gun had been pointed another direction or if the bullet had ricocheted.
“I guess I won’t be keeping this sweater.”
For a few seconds, Delia stared at it, as if she only now recognized how much danger they had be
en in tonight.
“I wanted to thank you for coming to my rescue—”
“You already did that earlier.”
“And I wanted to apologize for going in alone,” she said. “I should never have taken a risk like that.”
“You could have been killed,” he spat before he could stop himself.
“I know. It was an unnecessary risk. It won’t happen again.”
Fury burned within him as it had all night, impotent, pointless fury that had no place in his reality. Resignation would be easier. It wouldn’t hurt as much. But no matter what he thought, no matter what he felt, he couldn’t change the truth that she would never learn to trust others.
“I should have called for backup, just like you told me, Ben.”
He shook his head, meeting her gaze across the table for the first time since they’d entered the room. “It doesn’t matter now. With the recognition you’ll receive from having broken this case, you can reach your goal. You’ve got your ticket out of here. You’ll be able to move on to the larger agency of your dreams.”
“I don’t know if it’s really what I—”
“I just hope you make your move soon.”
Delia blinked. Clearly, she hadn’t seen that one coming.
He should just shut up now. He’d said enough. But he couldn’t stop. “I used to think I could help you become part of the team, even after I learned about your history.” He closed his eyes, shaking his head, before opening them again. “It was naive. I know. But I understand now that you’ll never be able to trust any of the troopers on the team to have your back. And for that reason, none of them, none of us, can trust you to have ours.”
He’d wanted this conversation to remain emotionless, to state the facts with clinical sterility, but from the tears welling in her eyes, he could tell that he’d failed.
“You’re wrong about me, Ben.” She shook her head to emphasize her point. “I’ve changed. I’ve learned that I can trust the other officers. And I trusted you to be my backup. I knew you’d be there for me.”
She raised her hands to stop him before he could argue. “I know. I know. I made a rookie judgment error. I went in too soon, and I went in without backup when I met with Grant. But I already knew you were on your way. You’d told me so in the text. I’d told you that you shouldn’t come, but I knew you would anyway.”
“You can’t make mistakes like that, going in without backup in a job like ours,” he said, shaking his head. “Officers get killed from mistakes like that. Citizens get killed.”
“But this isn’t just about my mistakes on the job, is it?” she asked quietly.
He wanted to shake his head no. But the reality was that his thoughts about Delia, on and off the job, had melded.
“You don’t get it,” Delia said when he didn’t answer. “I don’t even want to go to another agency anymore. I want to stay right here at the Brighton Post, and I want to be near you. Because I love you.”
Ben swallowed. He’d wanted so much to hear her say those words, and now they only tore through him, maiming instead of salving wounds. He’d always known people stayed true to form, so why had he convinced himself she could change? Just because he’d made her his pet project. Or because he’d fallen in love with her. Or that she’d claimed to love him. His father was supposed to have changed, too, and his mother paid the price for believing that lie.
“I’m sorry. I can’t.” He shook his head slowly with finality.
“What are you saying?”
But he just kept shaking his head. Trust was one of the things he’d tried so hard to teach Delia about, and it was the one thing he couldn’t afford to give her now.
“This isn’t about us.” His voice caught on the last word, as if even his vocal cords recognized he was lying. “This is about the team. Only the team.” It had to be about the post and not his trampled heart.
Her bottom lip was trembling, so she pressed her lips together before speaking again. “But you told Grant—”
“That you were more of a team member than he was? It wouldn’t take much, if you think about it. He betrayed the whole team.”
She nodded and then stared at her hands. When she looked up, her lashes were damp.
“You’re wrong about me, Ben. You might not see it now, but I’ll prove it to you.”
* * *
“WELL, LOOK AT who finally decided to show up at work.”
Ben glanced over to find Vinnie Leonetti grinning back at him.
“Right, Vinnie. I would do anything for a good, long vacation.” Ben smiled at him, so happy to be back at work that he wanted to break out in a Seven Dwarfs’ whistling tune. If he could whistle.
He was glad to not have been at the Brighton Post the early days after Grant’s arrest when another media circus erupted, complete with the three rings of the local affiliate stations and a big top crowded with talking heads from the cable news networks. But now that the case was settling down, he was itching to get back in uniform. He’d never been so glad to pin on his badge in his life. Or to get out of the house. There was only so many times he could watch TV interviews where a certain brunette downplayed her role in bringing a fellow state trooper to justice.
“Hey, look who’s back.” Scott Campbell strode toward him with his hand outstretched, but the handshake ended in a hug with a hearty back pat. “You sure you want your office back? It’s made a great broom closet while you were gone.”
“It always did.”
Ben had just stepped into the doorway of his office, alongside his fellow lieutenant, when the one person he dreaded seeing passed by them in the hall.
“Lieutenant Campbell. Lieutenant Peterson,” she said with a nod.
“Trooper Morgan,” Ben responded.
“Good to have you back, sir.” Her gaze caught his in the briefest of contacts before she continued down the hall, her posture as stiff as a Kensington Palace guard.
Ben couldn’t help but stare after her, his heart squeezing in his chest. He’d done the right thing by walking away from her, hadn’t he?
“I’d bet there’s a story there,” Scott said when Ben turned back to him.
“Not one I’d be willing to share.”
“Your call.”
Scott’s smile was the sly one of a family man. Someone who knew too much for his own good.
“Trooper Morgan’s been making quite a hit on TV news lately, but she won’t take credit for any of it,” Scott told him. “Even after Grant agreed to testify in all of those cases against some of Detroit’s biggest drug suppliers.”
“Yeah, I know.” It had shocked him, too. She was finally receiving the kind of attention she’d craved in order to boost her career, and she was pushing it aside to credit the team.
“Surprising, isn’t it?” Scott asked, watching him closely. “I know she received minor censure just like you and Trevor did for freelancing on your case, but she’s been more than trying to make up for that. You know how we both thought she was too independent for her own good? Well, now she’s become the biggest team player I’ve seen in a long time. Almost as if she has something to prove.”
Ben nodded, digesting that. She’d told him she would prove he was wrong about her, and it looked like she was trying to do just that.
“Well, I’ll meet you in the squad room in a few. I’m sick of leading the briefings, so you’ll be up.”
Ben started to close his door. He needed a minute to decompress, to put things into perspective.
But Scott turned back before Ben had closed the door completely. “You know, none of us is perfect. Even you. Although you’re pretty damn close since you’re trying to make up for your dad. But if you spend your whole life shielding yourself to make sure nobody fails you again, you’re gonna wake up someday, alone, and wonder what happened with your life.”
With that, the other lieutenant strode away from him, leaving him with more questions than answers.
* * *
DELIA STOOD IN fron
t of the mirror in the women’s locker room at the end of her shift, adjusting her tie instead of removing her uniform, straightening her badge and nameplate and then brushing back a piece of hair over her ear. She’d started wearing her hair in a loose bun lately, just as she’d changed so many things at work in the last month. None of it had made any difference.
She swallowed the emotion clogging her throat and blinked back tears. She’d known that it all might have been too little too late, but she’d hoped. Sometimes hope could be a dangerous thing.
She’d told herself she could become that committed team member that Ben had always encouraged her to be. She’d believed she could learn to put the team’s needs ahead of her own and play a solid role in the background. She’d even thought she could show him that in their personal relationship, too. Prove to him that if one of them was afraid to trust, to take a leap of faith for love, it wasn’t her. And she’d been convinced she could do all of that even after he’d returned to work and her heart broke daily just from his nearness.
Unfortunately, she wasn’t as strong as she’d hoped. The thought of being this close to him and knowing they would never be together was like ripping her heart out during every shift. She couldn’t do it any longer.
With one last look in the mirror, she exited into the squad room and started down the hall to the commander’s office. A transfer to another state police post was what she needed. At least somewhere else she would have the opportunity to use all of the lessons about teamwork that Ben had taught her without having to see him every day and wonder what might have been.
She stopped in front of the commander’s office and knocked, pushing the door open when he invited her to enter.
“Captain Polaski, could I talk to you for a minute?”
“Sure.” At his desk, Polaski crossed his arms. “Come in. Have a seat, but leave the door open a crack. It gets awfully hot in here.”
Once she was seated across from him, he asked, “How may I help you?”
“I need to request a transfer.”
He nodded, his lips lifting slightly before he pressed them together. “And why is that? The publicity is finally dying down.”