Building Empires (MidKnight Blue Book 1)

by Sherryl Hancock

  “I’ll be at your place in an hour,” Joe said. “And you better not be lying to me, or I’ll kick your cute little ass.”

  “Sir, yes sir!” Midnight replied, laughing.

  She hung up and noticed that Kana was watching her.

  “What?” Kana nodded her head approvingly at Midnight. “You did okay out there,” she said, her voice reflecting her surprise.

  “Yeah,” Midnight said, grimacing and holding up her bandaged arm. “I did great!”

  But Kana shook her head. “No, you did really good, Midnight. Hell that Oso could’ve taken me, but you’re smarter and faster than shit!” Again, her voice reflected surprise.

  Midnight looked over at Kana for a long moment; a compliment coming from someone like Kana was a compliment indeed. Kana had single-handedly taken on one of the biggest gang leaders in Honolulu and a few of her girls and won, before she had come to the mainland and joined FORS. So Kana was tough, and her applauding Midnight’s fighting was impressive.

  An hour later, Midnight was sitting on her couch wearing a clean cotton shirt, and her police sweatpants. Her sleeves were rolled up, so the bandage that covered her arm was exposed. She heard Joe come in and saw that Randy was still with him.

  “Hey,” she said, smiling up at her second and at their secretary.

  “Let’s see it,” Joe said, his eyes looking her over.

  Midnight dutifully held up her bandaged arm. Joe moved to her side, his eyes full of concern. He took her hand gently, looking at her.

  “You’re okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m okay, I already told you that,” she said, squeezing his hand.

  Then she looked over at Randy, who seemed almost as concerned as Joe did.

  “Oh God, not you too,” Midnight said laughing.

  Randy seemed to relax visibly then.

  “Sit down, Randy, you make me nervous standing there,” Midnight said then, motioning with her head. Randy sat on the other end of the couch.

  “You need anything?” Joe asked Midnight. She shook her head. “So I take it you won?” Joe said, his voice lightening up a little.

  “Of course I won. Hell, Joe if you’d seen the size of that Oso. Shit, if I’d lost, I wouldn’t be here right now, I’d probably be in a box down at city morgue!”

  She had meant it as a joke, but she could see from the look on Joe’s face that it had reminded him she had not included him on this one. She could have paid for it.

  “Yeah, I heard,” Joe said shortly.

  “Oh God, Sinclair, don’t start okay. I’ve been a cop longer than you, and I did survive the mean streets before you came along! They didn’t make me a fucking lieutenant because I look good in the uniform, you know!” Midnight said, her eyes flashing at him.

  Joe glared at her. “Yeah I know, Midnight, but lieutenants get iced too.”

  “Yeah and I know one sergeant that’s about to, if he doesn’t back off!” Midnight snarled back at him.

  Joe stood up then and strode over to look out the sliding glass doors that lead to Midnight’s backyard. She lived on a hill above the beach, not quite as scenic a location as Joe’s, but it was still a nice view.

  Randy sat on the end of the couch; she could feel the electricity in the room. She was surprised by their anger. She had no way of knowing that they always got into an argument when Midnight got hurt. Joe always wanted to hide her away so she couldn’t get hurt again, and she always fought him. It was their way of confirming that they cared about each other and also a confirmation that they were both still very much alive. Randy could see that Joe was very tense and angry, as was Midnight. It filled the air around them.

  Midnight sat looking down at her bandaged arm, her teeth worrying her lower lip. After a few minutes, she took a deep breath and expelled it, looking up at the ceiling and shaking her head. As Randy watched, Midnight stood up and walked over to where Joe stood. She stood facing his side but Joe didn’t look at her, and she wasn’t looking up at him. Then slowly she leaned her head on his arm. Neither one of them spoke, but Joe’s arm came up slowly to pull her close to him. She leaned against him, her body pressed against the length of his. They stood that way for a long time.

  Tears came to Randy’s eyes, because watching them made her feel the emotions that were running between them. She was glad that they had obviously made up already.

  Randy realized now, that no matter what Darrell said, or did, she was now a member of FORS and nothing was going to keep her from working with these two people who in two short days had become the center of her life.

  Chapter 6

  Friday couldn’t seem to come fast enough for Randy. Joe dropped her off Friday afternoon telling her he’d be back at her house by seven.

  “You’re going out with who?” Darrell asked incredulously two hours later.

  “I’m going out with Joe,” Randy told him, the second time.

  “The player with the Porsche?”

  “No,” Randy said, her eyes narrowing as she put earrings in her ears, “the fine, upstanding peace officer who I work for, who happens to own a Porsche.”

  “So where’d he get the money for it?” Darrell asked. “You find that out yet?”

  “It’s really none of my business, Darrell,” Randy replied, “but yes, I do know where he got the money for the car and the house he lives in as well.”

  “So where?” Darrell asked, when it was obvious she wasn’t forthcoming with the information.

  “It’s none of your business,” Randy replied, squeezing past him to go into the tiny bathroom the three of them shared. She shut the door in Darrell’s face and locked it.

  “You’re not going out with him,” Darrell yelled through the door.

  “Yes I am,” Randy replied, doing her best to stay calm.

  The last thing she wanted was to get into some wicked fight with Darrell right before her date with Joe. As it was, she was afraid of what Darrell would do when Joe got there to pick her up.

  An hour later, Randy looked outside to see Joe drive up. Darrell’s friends were over and they, along with Donovan, were hanging out in the garage. Randy was completely on edge. Before she could grab her jacket and get outside, however, Joe was out of his car, even as Darrell and his friends walked down the driveway to confront him.

  Joe grinned sardonically at the small group coming toward him. Darrell’s friends were all construction workers, so they were brawny, like Darrell. Joe resisted the urge to sweep the sides of his jacket back to reveal the shoulder holster with the nasty looking forty-five. He knew this wasn’t the time to intimidate Darrell Curtis. So instead he leaned on the hood of his car, his long legs extended in front of him, crossed at the ankles. He appeared completely at ease.

  Donovan followed his brother’s friends, but smiled immediately at Joe who returned the smile with a nod.

  “You here for Randy?” one of the men, shorter than Darrell, asked.

  Joe nodded, keeping tabs on the four of them as the spread out.

  “Randy’s not going out with you,” Darrell said, his tone adversarial.

  “That’s not what she says,” Joe said, his look direct.

  “Yeah, well, I say,” Darrell retorted.

  Joe nodded, not looking the slightest bit impressed by Darrell’s comment. Randy all but ran out of the house then, striding down the driveway as fast as she could on the heels she wore.

  “Darrell,” she warned.

  “Get back in the house, Randy,” Darrell told her, blocking her way.

  “No,” Randy said, moving to get around him.

  One of Darrell’s friends grabbed her arm. That’s when Joe moved off the car, finally losing his calm. Darrell turned back to Joe, but Joe’s eyes were on the man who had Randy’s arm.

  “Let go of her,” Joe said, his tone no nonsense. “Now.”

  “Look, cop,” Darrell said, his tone sneering, “just get back in your fancy car and leave.”

  Joe’s eyes flicked to Darrell, then back to the ma
n holding Randy.

  “I said, let go of her,” Joe repeated.

  “What are you gonna do?” the younger man asked, his tone snide.

  “I’m gonna say it one more time,” Joe said. His voice still low and calm but it was an unmistakable threat. “Remove your hands from her, before I remove them for you.”

  Darrell debated his actions. He didn’t want Randy to go out with this cop; the guy was up to no good, Darrell knew that just from looking at him. It was obvious, however, that this guy wasn’t easily intimidated and the last thing Darrell wanted was for Randy to end up in the middle of a physical confrontation between Joe and his friends.

  “Jack, let her go,” Darrell said.

  Jack did as Darrell said and Randy moved to Joe’s side. Joe immediately walked her over to the passenger side, opened the door for her, and gestured for her to get inside.

  “Joe,” she said then, her tone cautionary. She didn’t want him to get into a fight with her brother.

  “It’s okay,” Joe said, giving her a half grin, before he closed the passenger door.

  As he walked around the car, Joe said nothing to Darrell, but apparently, Jack wasn’t done trying to impress.

  He grabbed Joe’s shoulder, but Joe was much faster than the younger man. With the lightning-fast reactions that had saved his life for years, Joe side stepped the man’s hand, and reached back to clasp his would-be assailant’s wrist, bringing his arm up and through. He had the younger man on his knees in a fraction of a second.

  Looking down at the man, Joe narrowed his eyes dangerously. “Don’t fuck with me, kid,” he said, keeping his voice low. “You won’t like what I’ll do to you.”

  With that, he let Jack go and gave Darrell a pointed look. Then he strode around to get into his vehicle. The action of taking the young man to his knees had exposed Joe’s weapon. It showed Darrell and his friends that Joe didn’t need to use his weapon or his badge to threaten them. It was food for thought.

  Even so, Darrell watched through narrowed eyes as Joe started the Porsche and turned out of the cul de sac.

  In the car, Randy was mortified by what had happened. She wouldn’t have been surprised if Joe had stopped the car at the end of the street and told her to get out, that she wasn’t worth the trouble she was putting him through.

  “Joe, I’m so sorry,” she began, her hands clutched together nervously.

  “Don’t,” he said, shaking his head, his tone harsher than he’d meant it to be, still irritated by the confrontation. To soften his words, he grinned. “It’s not your fault your brother’s friend isn’t very bright.” With that, he looked over at her and smiled.

  Randy relaxed visibly.

  Joe looked over at her for a long moment at the first red light they hit.

  “You look beautiful,” he told her. She wore a white dress that set off both her figure and her coloring nicely. Her hair was loose but pulled back at the top in a clip. She wore more makeup than she normally did at work, but just enough to emphasize her features.

  Randy bit her lip, pleased that he thought so.

  “You look different,” she said, smiling.

  “Different?” Joe asked, with a grin. “You mean you’re shocked that I can clean up decently?”

  Randy opened her mouth in dismay, but then Joe started to laugh. “I just meant you’re dressed much differently than at work,” she clarified.

  “Oh,” he said, nodding, his grin still evident.

  He wore charcoal-gray dress pants and a crisp white button down shirt, open at the collar to reveal a simple flat linked gold chain. He even wore dove-gray leather dress boots. Handsome to the extreme.

  Joe turned on the stereo and music blared from the speakers. Grimacing, he reached over turning it down.

  “Who is that?” Randy asked, gesturing to the stereo.

  “Skid Row,” Joe replied.

  Randy nodded. “You really like rock music, don’t you?”

  “Oh yeah,” Joe said, grinning. “I wanted to be a rock star when I grew up.”

  “Really?” Randy asked, smiling. “I can see that,” she said nodding.

  “You can?”

  “Oh yes,” she said, nodding, “with the hair, the charisma and the presence, you’d have made a great rock star.”

  Joe laughed. “Except for the fact that I can neither sing nor play an instrument.”

  “That might be a drawback, yeah,” Randy said, grinning.

  “Ya think?”

  “Maybe,” Randy said, chuckling.

  They talked for a while about inconsequential things. At one point Joe reached out taking her hand, Randy smiled shyly, but was thoroughly enjoying his attention. Her ego had no idea what to do with such a handsome man paying attention to her, but she’d already decided she was going to enjoy every minute of this date with him.

  She had no idea why he’d asked her out; she couldn’t believe he could find her even remotely interesting. What could he have in common with the likes of her? Randy had no idea, but she was determined to enjoy her one chance with him. Who knew if he’d ever ask her out again, after tonight?

  Joe had driven south and crossed the Coronado Bridge, and Randy was shocked when he pulled up in front of the Hotel Del Coronado. The hotel, a world-famous attraction for the rich and famous, was one of San Diego’s crown jewels.

  Randy looked over at Joe in awed silence. He grinned, glad to have apparently surprised her.

  “I thought it might be nice to have dinner here,” he said, smiling.

  “I’ve always wanted to come here for dinner,” she said shaking her head in wonder.

  “Really?” Joe asked, as he got out of the car. The valet opened Randy’s door for her.

  Joe handed the man the keys and a fifty; it was the smartest way to get his vehicle parked in a spot where it wouldn’t get keyed, hit, or stolen. The valet smiled widely, nodding at Joe in appreciation.

  Walking around the car, Joe offered Randy his arm and escorted her inside.

  “So, you know about this place?” Joe asked as he guided her to the right and to the maître d’ of the Crown Room.

  Randy struggled to control herself, she couldn’t believe this was happening! She’d been to the Hotel del Coronado, of course, it was a San Diego landmark and one she was always fascinated with, but she’d never had the means to eat at the hotel. The Crown Room was the most elegant restaurant they had.

  “Yes,” she said, doing her best to sound normal, “it was built in 1888. It’s one of largest structures outside of New York to be electrically lighted.”

  “So, I guess you’ll need to give me a tour of the place after this,” he said, winking at her.

  She smiled brilliantly at him as the maître d’ looked up.

  “Table for two,” Joe said. “Sinclair.”

  The maître d’ was a tall thin man with an equally thin mustache that gave him the perfect overly sophisticated look for his position.

  “Right this way, sir,” the man responded, bowing slightly to Joe.

  Randy clutched Joe’s hand tighter as they were escorted to table located near the large curved window in the beautifully appointed room. The ceiling was sugared pine, and glowed from the light of crown-shaped chandeliers.

  After they were seated, Randy touched Joe’s arm, pointing to the chandeliers. “Those were designed by the author of the Wizard of Oz, L. Frank Baum.”

  “Looks about right,” Joe said, smiling warmly.

  He was pleased that Randy was obviously excited about the restaurant. When they opened their menus, Randy realized she wasn’t sure what most of the food was. Joe ended up helping her order, since he was familiar with the French words used.

  “So, you know French?” Randy asked, intrigued.

  “I’m actually part French,” Joe said, smiling. “I’m not fluent in the language, but I can muddle through in a pinch,” he said with a wink.

  “Like when your date isn’t savvy enough to order for herself in a nice restaurant?
”

  “Knowing how to order fancy food is over-rated,” Joe said. “Besides, you know more about this place than I do,” he said, gesturing around them.

  He’d ordered wine for both of them, after checking that Randy liked wine, quickly stifling her comment about being underage.

  After the wine and their salads arrived, Randy looked over at him. “What is England like?” she asked wistfully. “You are actually from there, right?” she asked, realizing she was assuming that since he still had an accent that he’d been born in England.

  “Yes,” he said, nodding, “I’m from London. What’s it like?” he queried, narrowing his eyes in thought. “It’s beautiful, green almost everywhere outside the city. The architecture is incredible and goes back centuries.” He shrugged. “I guess it’s hard for me to describe adequately, it’s just home.”

  Randy smiled, nodding. “How long have you been in the States?”

  “About eight years now,” he said, “since I was twenty-one.”

  Randy stopped eating for a moment staring at him in shock.

  “What?” he asked, a bemused grin at his lips.

  “You’re twenty-nine?” she asked.

  Joe’s grin widened into a smile. “Didn’t know you were going out with an old man?”

  Randy’s mouth opened, then she closed it narrowing her eyes. “I’m not sure I believe you’re actually that old,” she said, “but in any case, twenty-nine isn’t really old.”

  “Uh-huh, it’s almost thirty.” Joe said, nodding, “and you know what they say, though.”

  “What?” Randy asked, already suspicious of the grin on his lips.

  “It’s not the years, honey, it’s the mileage,” he said, with a laugh.

  Randy laughed too. They talked on through dinner, discussing the history of the hotel, and some of the places in England that Randy had read about. Joe was a very charming dinner companion, and wasn’t very impressed with himself or his money.

  “It’s not really mine,” he said at one point. “I didn’t earn it.”

  “But your parents left it to you,” Randy said, trying to understand.