by Diana Palmer
“My mother took me to the Methodist church one Sunday, my father took me to Mass the next. They alternated. I became acquainted with both faiths and I’m richer for it. But they were very strict. It wasn’t until my mother died that I had my first real date.”
“The idiot at work,” he recalled.
She laughed. It didn’t sting so much now, that memory. “Yes. Him.”
“What a hell of a first date,” he said harshly.
“It wasn’t one of my better memories,” she had to admit.
His fingers tightened. “We’ll make better ones.”
Her heart jumped. She felt the pressure of his strong fingers with real pleasure. He’d become so important to her, in so little time. It was a little frightening.
“Have you seen Rado lately?” he asked suddenly.
“No. But I’ve heard about him. He broke a child’s arm for talking about him.”
He frowned, glancing at her. “I heard nothing about that on the radio.”
“He didn’t tell anyone. His sister took him to the emergency room, to a friend of hers who’s a doctor.” She sighed. “Poor kid. They said that Rado laughed when he did it. He’s a pig!”
“He is. Would the boy talk to us? Do you know who he is?”
“No. I spoke to a friend of his.” She couldn’t tell him about Tonio without getting the boy in more trouble. It was dangerous enough that she was getting him to talk to Hollister. She had reservations about that, more than she liked.
“Would the friend testify?”
“No,” she said. “He’s afraid of Rado. Most sane people are.”
“What did he tell that made Rado attack him, do you know?”
“Something about a DEA agent who had ties to Los Diablos Lobitos—” She felt her seat belt catch sharply as he stopped the truck suddenly, right in the middle of the road.
“A DEA agent?” he asked, seeing ties that he couldn’t explain. Ties to a cold case murder.
“That’s what the boy told me. He won’t talk to anybody in law enforcement. He says Rado has people everywhere. He’d find out and the boy who’s his friend would be killed. Rado doesn’t mind killing people. He told the child that he’d done it before to people who talked about him.”
John let out a soft whistle. “Damn!”
He started the SUV moving again.
“What is it? Why are you curious about Rado?”
“I can’t tell you,” he said gently. “It’s connected to a cold case that a colleague of mine is working on.”
“And Rado’s involved?”
“He might be. We’re not sure. That’s why I’m going to Jacobsville to talk to this witness.” He glanced at her. “Anything you hear is privileged information. You’re not to discuss it with anyone. Especially not with anyone who has ties to Rado. You understand?”
“Yes, I do. I won’t say a word.”
He smiled gently. “I knew that. I just wanted you to promise.” He looked forward at the road ahead. “I know already that you don’t give your word lightly. You have too many principles.”
“Thanks.”
“It was a great movie, wasn’t it?” he asked, changing the subject.
She laughed. “Absolutely great. I loved it!”
“There’s the new Star Wars movie coming out soon. Want to go with me?”
“Yes!”
“It will have to be a matinee,” he added, grimacing. “Sorry. It sort of goes with the job. I’m less likely to be called in broad daylight on a Saturday, however odd that sounds.”
“You get called out at night?”
“All the time. I’m more available after hours than the married colleagues with small children.” He didn’t add that he had a child, not small. Someday he’d have to tell her about Tonio. But not yet. That was a bridge he wasn’t eager to cross.
“I see. I don’t mind matinees. I almost never go out after dark.”
His fingers contracted. “If you ever have to, you text me. I mean it. I don’t care what time it is, either. I’ll come. I sleep light, and the phone’s always on.”
That protectiveness made her feel warm all over. “I wouldn’t, unless I really felt threatened,” she said.
“Still. I’ll always be around if you need me,” he said softly.
She smiled. “I’d do anything I could for you, too,” she said. “Although if it involved fighting off big tough guys, I might have to enlist aid.”
He chuckled. “Know some really big tough guys you could call on for aid, do you?”
“Just Hollister.”
His fingers went still in hers.
“He’s a friend,” she emphasized.
“Does he know, about the injury?” he asked, remembering that Hollister had been the detective on her case.
“Yes.” She sighed. “He said that it wouldn’t matter to someone who cared about me. He’s been very kind. But I don’t really like blond men,” she confessed sheepishly.
“You just saved his life,” he mused.
She laughed. She felt years younger, green and happy and full of life. It was a feeling so new that it was precious.
“I like to hear you laugh,” he commented.
She started to answer him when he pulled off the road and into the driveway of an isolated house that looked very new, with landscaping that was unfinished.
“We’re here.”
He got out and helped her out. He didn’t hold her hand on the way to the front porch, and he looked suddenly concerned as they approached it. He stopped, noting that there wasn’t a light on in the house and that the door was ajar.
He pulled out his 1912 .45 Colt ACP automatic and took off the safety. “You stay right here,” he said firmly. “And if I yell for you to run, you get in the truck and lock the doors.”
“I will,” she promised. “You be careful.”
The words went on the wind, because he was already moving to the porch, the sidearm raised in both hands beside his ear. He went inside cautiously.
Sunny waited, her arms folded over her chest, praying softly that she wouldn’t hear a gunshot. Or more than one.
But only a couple of minutes later, he came back out, tight-lipped. He shoved the sidearm into the holster at his belt and pulled out his cell phone. He called 911 and gave the code for a body and another for an ambulance and local law enforcement to respond.
She knew the codes, because law enforcement people were in and out of the hospital emergency room when she was on duty. She was responsible for getting little patients to their rooms when they’d been treated. She’d picked up a lot of things from law enforcement people over the years.
He hung up.
“She’s dead?” she asked gently.
“Very dead.” He looked down at her. “You know the codes.”
She nodded. “We have cops in the hospital emergency room pretty frequently with our little patients. Victims of domestic violence, accidents, other things.”
He drew in a breath. “This is going to be bad,” he told her. “Sensational, is probably the best word. I just hope we don’t have any eager beaver reporters around hoping to make a name for themselves.”
“Not likely in a small community.”
“We had one such, here in Jacobsville, working for the local paper. Its publisher is Sheriff Carson’s wife, though, and she fired the reporter last year. She doesn’t do sensational stories.”
“That’s good.”
It wasn’t another minute before flashing red and blue lights came down the road. No sirens. She knew, as John did, that sirens were almost never used unless the ambulance or squad car was boxed in by traffic or behind cars that wouldn’t get out of the way. It alarmed people, sometimes even caused accidents.
The Jacobs County EMTs exited the ambulance, exchanged a word or two with
John and staged while the uniformed deputy in the sheriff’s car went inside with John.
While they were in the house, a Jacobsville police car rolled up and stopped, obviously having heard the call over the police band. A man with a long, black ponytail and a dark attitude got out of it. He spotted Sunny and his eyebrows lifted, but he didn’t speak to her. He went on into the house as well.
Minutes later, the EMTs were allowed in. John and the officers came back out. The deputy went to his car and got on the radio.
John came back to Sunny, with the tall, intimidating officer beside him.
“This is Jacobsville Police Chief Grier,” he introduced. “This is Sunny. She’s a nurse at a children’s hospital in San Antonio.”
Grier nodded.
She nodded back. He was very dignified, and Sunny remembered suddenly what John had told her about his past.
“We’ll get the TBI out here with their crime tech and have the body transported up to San Antonio after the coroner examines the victim. In fact, one of the TBI investigators lives here—Alice Mayfield Jones Fowler. She’s married to Cy Parks’s foreman.”
“Alice.” John rolled his eyes. “She’s a legend.”
“She is that.” Grier’s black eyes, almost as black as John’s, went back to Sunny. “Did he bring you down to examine the witness?” he asked curiously.
She flushed, uncertain of what to say.
John chuckled. “I had a call to interrogate a witness and I brought her along, because I thought she might put the witness at ease. It’s okay. She’s a clam,” he added, smiling down at her. His smile faded as his eyes went back to Grier. “The victim was a witness in a cold case that Colter Banks is working on. This is going to set the investigation on its ear. She had vital information.”
“I know about the case,” Grier said. “Banks and I keep in touch. Good man.”
“Good investigator,” John agreed.
“We have some ideas about her contacts,” Grier said. “If you’ll stop by my office Monday morning before you go to work, I’ll put you onto somebody who might be able to tell you who the mysterious missing boyfriend is.”
“That would be a great help,” John said.
“We all remember Melinda,” Grier said curtly. “She got a rough deal, all around. Her dad’s still trying to cope with the guilt.”
“Some kids become headaches at an early age,” John said.
“And that’s something...” Grier began, and John knew he was going to mention Tonio.
“I have to get Sunny back to San Antonio,” John said. “I’ll talk to you Monday.”
Grier wasn’t slow. It was obvious that John liked the nurse and that he hadn’t told her about his son.
He smiled. “Sure. That’s fine. Nice to meet you,” he told Sunny, shook hands with John and went back to the crime scene.
* * *
On the way to San Antonio, Sunny was curious.
“He’s city law enforcement, but that was a county crime scene,” she pointed out. “Wouldn’t the sheriff’s department have jurisdiction?”
“It would, normally. But in Jacobs County, a murder is a rare event. The call went out on the police band and Grier heard it. So did a lot of other local law.” He chuckled. “Before long, you’d have seen cars from every single department in the county out there. It’s a small-town thing.”
“Your police chief is intimidating.”
“He is. He has something of a reputation for that. I hear that speeders he stops rush to town to pay fines. He never has to say a word. His eyes say it for him.”
“I noticed that. I’d never want to break the law down here.”
He smiled. “He’s married to one of the most beautiful women in the country. Tippy Moore, she used to be known as when she modeled.”
“The Georgia Firefly,” she exclaimed. “I used to see her on covers of fashion magazines. And those movies she starred in were hilarious.”
“She gave up her career for him,” he said. “He didn’t ask her to. She’s devoted herself to raising their little daughter and son, and her brother, who’s in middle school now.”
“She must be quite a lady.”
“She can also do the tango,” he told her with some amusement. “Grier taught her.”
“Hard to imagine a man like that dancing.”
“It’s not, if you see him at it,” he said. He thought of the annual Christmas dance and wanted very badly to invite her to it. But he didn’t want Tonio to find out yet that he had a female interest. It was too soon.
“I’ll take your word for it,” she said, smiling.
* * *
He let her out at her apartment. But he got out with her. The damned phone went off just as he got to her door.
He sighed as he answered it. “Ruiz.”
“I know, you don’t want to hear it,” his captain said with resignation. “But this is a federal case and they’ve asked for help. I can’t get in touch with anybody else—”
“It’s okay,” John said, chuckling. “I’m used to it. After all, it’s Saturday,” he added, looking down at Sunny. “Anybody who has a home life is at home, living it.”
“You have one of those, too, you know,” the captain replied, tongue in cheek.
“It goes on fine without me, mostly. What do you need?”
“We’ve got a body,” he said. “SAPD found it stuffed into an outdoor trash can, badly beaten, almost unrecognizable.”
“Gang stuff?” John asked.
“Not this. The guy was in his forties,” he added. “Dressed nicely. He had the keys to a Mercedes in his pocket. We’re still looking for it. The feds are on scene with the crime investigation unit. I’ve just texted you the address.”
“Okay,” John said. “You know about the cold case Banks is working on, don’t you?” He paused, frowning. “No, he didn’t call me about the body. I was going to call him. I went down to Jacobsville to interview the female witness who gave him the tip and found her dead.”
“Dead?”
“Yes, sir,” John replied. “It was pretty bad. Somebody was sending a message, I think. Jacobs County SO is investigating, but Cash Grier was on scene as well.”
“I remember Grier,” the captain laughed. “Never liked him more than when he knocked that excuse for a temporary Ranger captain through the door onto the street. I’d have cheered, but it would have cost me my badge.”
“The temporary captain didn’t last long,” John chuckled.
There was a rough sigh. “Old times. They were somehow less pressured than today. Banks is going to meet you where the feds are staging,” he added.
“Why?”
“There may be a link to that cold case. The feds found something on the body... Well, I’ll let Banks tell you. Get moving.”
“Yes, sir,” John said. “On my way.”
He hung up and put the phone back in its holster on his belt. He sighed. “Life is never easy,” he said.
“It’s going to be a hard day for you,” she said sadly. “I’m sorry. Two bodies in one day.”
“That makes three within ten days,” he added. He herded her toward the door. “Unlock that,” he said.
She did, curious about why he was rushing her. Did he sense some danger?
He let her go ahead, then he went in behind her and closed the door.
“They can wait five more minutes,” he murmured, taking off his hat and tossing it in the general direction of her sofa.
He lifted her off the ground in his arms and held her, his mouth hovering just over hers. In the silence of the apartment, she could hear her own heartbeat.
“I can’t get involved with you,” he whispered as his mouth brushed lazily against hers. “So this is a very bad idea.”
She nodded, her eyes on his sensuous mouth. “Very bad,” she
whispered.
He nibbled her upper lip, loving the way her arms curled around his neck, as if they belonged there. He smiled against her mouth. “And since we can’t get involved, you have to pretend not to like this.”
She nodded again. “Not to like this.”
“Are you listening to me, rubia?” he whispered.
She nodded. “Listening...”
While she spoke, she lifted toward the tormenting hard mouth that was daring her, provoking her, tempting her into indiscretion.
He drew in an audible breath. “What the hell. It’s the holidays...”
His mouth opened tenderly on hers, every slow motion coaxing, not demanding, as he made her hungry for him.
She’d been kissed. Not often, but kissed. This was...different. He tasted of coffee. His breath was clean. His lips were firm, but slow and gentle, and the experience behind them was noticeable even to a novice. Well, he’d been married, of course he was experienced, she thought absently.
“This is very nice,” he whispered. “And I don’t have time for it.”
“I know.”
But he carried her to the sofa and sat down on it with Sunny in his lap while he made a virtual banquet out of her soft mouth.
“You taste like honey,” he whispered huskily, bringing her closer. “I could get used to this.”
“Me, too,” she said shakily.
His mouth opened and pushed her lips apart, bearing down on them, insistent as the kiss caught fire and ignited them both.
She moaned helplessly. She felt swollen and shaky all over. She didn’t feel like a woman with a bad scar. She felt like, just a woman. It was so new, so exciting, that she lost herself in the sweetness of it.
He held her tight for just another minute and then, with a groan, he put her away and stood up.
“I do not want to leave,” he announced heavily. “But if I don’t, they’ll send Banks after me.”