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So This Is Love

Page 15

by Barbara Freethy


  Frustrated, Emma left the office around two o'clock to get a sandwich at the deli. She called Max on her way, but his phone went to voicemail. She'd already left him a message earlier. She was beginning to wonder what he was up to and why he wasn't calling her back. They were supposed to be working together.

  When she walked into the Second Street Deli a few moments later, she was surprised to see a man standing behind the cash register. Mary stood nearby, watching him ring up an order.

  "I see you found some help," she said to Gus as she ordered a veggie wrap.

  "He said you sent him," Gus replied in his usual gruff voice.

  "What?"

  She glanced over at the man again and a surprising thought took hold. He looked very familiar. Was this Max's brother? Had Max actually followed up on her suggestion?

  "That's Spencer Harrison?" she asked.

  "You don't know him?" Gus queried, his gaze narrowing.

  "I know his brother, Max. He was in here yesterday with me. He's a cop with the SFPD. I mentioned that you needed someone to help out while Mary was on maternity leave and that his brother might want to apply for the job."

  Gus nodded. "He seems smart enough, and he could start right away, so I'm giving him a shot. We'll see how it works out. I can't be too choosy. Mary is going to drop that kid any second."

  "I hope it works out," she said.

  "So do I."

  She moved down the counter, grabbed a drink out of the case, and then stepped up to the register. Mary had disappeared into the back. Spencer was waiting to take her money. Spencer was taller and thinner than Max, and his brown hair was two shades darker. Instead of Max's green eyes, Spencer's were hazel, but they were just as penetrating, just as wary. Apparently, suspicion ran in the family.

  "Hello," she said. "Are you Spencer?"

  He raised an eyebrow as his gaze narrowed on her face. "Are you Emma?"

  "How did you know that?"

  "Max told me a friend of his recommended this job and that his friend was a beautiful, blue-eyed blond. For once he wasn't exaggerating."

  His words surprised and flattered her. "Oh. Well, I see Max told you about the job opening."

  "Yeah, and apparently there weren't a lot of applicants," he drawled, as he rang up her order. "So I got to start right away."

  She handed him a twenty. He quickly made change and handed it back to her, as if he'd been running the register for years.

  "I'm glad you applied," she said. "Max wasn't sure you'd be interested."

  "Beggars can't be choosers. Max told me that you know my history, so…" He ended the sentence with a shrug.

  "Right. He told me a little. I looked up the rest online. I'm a curious kind of person."

  "That can get you into trouble."

  "Don't I know it."

  Mary came out of the back room with her bag over her shoulder. She looked much happier than she had the day before. "Thanks for the referral, Emma. Spencer is a life savior. He's already up to speed, which means I get to go home and put my feet up. Yay!"

  "I'm so glad," she said as Mary walked around the counter. "You need to rest."

  "I do, because in a few days I doubt I'll be getting much sleep at all. I feel so much less pressure now that Spencer has started. I don't have to worry about leaving Gus in the lurch." She gave Spencer a grateful smile. "If you need anything and Gus can't help you, just give me a call."

  Spencer nodded. "Don't worry about it. We'll be fine."

  As Mary left, Emma turned her attention back to Spencer. He was looking at her in a way that made her feel a little uncomfortable. Obviously, Max had talked to his brother about her, which seemed somewhat out of character. But perhaps he was more talkative when it came to his family.

  She was rarely at a loss for words, but she didn't know what to say to Spencer. He was a stranger, and yet she knew quite a bit about him. She glanced down the counter. Gus had disappeared into the back room. Apparently, he was looking for something for her sandwich, as there were no other customers in the store.

  "I hear you and Max are working together," Spencer said, breaking the increasingly awkward silence.

  "Yes," she said with relief. "I've actually been trying to get a hold of him today. Have you seen him?"

  "Not since this morning. You know that you have him tied up in knots, don't you?"

  "What do you mean?"

  "You know what I mean," he said with a pointed gleam in his eyes.

  She did know, but she couldn't bring herself to admit to it. "I think you're the one he's most concerned with right now," she said. "He wants to help you get back on your feet. You should let him help you."

  "Why do you think I'm working here?"

  Had he taken the job to please his brother? Or was it easier to pretend that was the reason? For a man with advanced degrees, working in a deli was a big step down. But with his record, he was lucky to have a job, any job.

  Gus brought her sandwich to the counter. "Sorry for the wait. I wanted to give you some fresh mushrooms. I got a new order in earlier today. And you deserve the best."

  "I appreciate that, thanks. Good luck, Spencer."

  "You, too."

  She paused. "Why would I need luck?"

  He smiled for the first time. "Because you're working with Max. My little brother was never one to share."

  "Funny. That's what he said about you."

  He tipped his head. "Family trait, I guess."

  "Well, Max and I are going to work out just fine."

  "I think you might," he said, a gleam in his eyes.

  "There's nothing going on between us."

  "Oh, there's something going on, and I must admit I'm intrigued. Then again, I have a lot of time on my hands these days."

  "Well, I'll see you around."

  "I'm sure."

  As she left the deli, she couldn't help wondering what else Max had told his brother about her.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Max stepped into his boss's office and shut the door. Hank Crowley was on the phone but waved him toward the seat in front of his desk.

  In his late fifties, Hank was a short, stocky man with a receding hairline and since he'd been promoted to Captain and spent a lot of time at his desk, he'd also acquired a few extra pounds around the middle.

  Hank was coming up on his twenty-fifth anniversary as a police officer, and had had a career that Max admired greatly. But then he'd been a fan of Hank Crowley since he was a lonely, unhappy ten-year-old, whose father had taken off. Hank had been his Little League coach and during that season Max had also become close friends with Hank's oldest son, Tom.

  Over the next few years, Hank had become a surrogate father to him, and it was from growing up in Hank's house, listening to his stories, that had made Max want to become a police officer. It was ironic that he'd chosen that path whereas Hank's son, Tom, and his other son, Joel, had wanted nothing to do with the profession.

  Hank hung up the phone and gave him a nod. "Thanks for coming in. I wanted to check in on how the investigation is going."

  "It's going," Max said, without much enthusiasm. He'd spent the entire day spinning his wheels. "I've gone down a few roads that turned out to be dead ends."

  "I understand there's a possible Tahoe connection."

  "Based on the forensic evidence, there's a possibility Sister Margaret was in the Lake Tahoe area, but I haven't yet found any corroborating eyewitnesses or any other evidence besides the dirt and plant matter left on her clothes to put her at that location." He paused. "Half of the St. Andrew's school population spends time in Lake Tahoe as do many people in the Bay Area. Sister Margaret was there in August with her roommate, Ruth Harbough. And you know Mrs. Harbough is an upstanding citizen, never even had a parking ticket."

  "She's a rule follower," Hank agreed. "A stern woman. When she first came to me to tell me Margaret was missing, it was the first time I saw vulnerability in her. She was terrified, and she doesn't get scared easily. That's why I
asked you to get involved instead of letting Missing Persons handle it."

  "I wish I could say my involvement has been helpful, but I'm a long way from having a suspect. My gut tells me Margaret knew her kidnapper. But she knew a lot of people, so that doesn't get me too far."

  "What about the arson investigation? No clues?"

  "Not yet. Emma is working that angle, but arsonists can be difficult to find, especially when they know what they're doing."

  Hank gave him a speculative look. "How are you working with Emma Callaway?"

  "All right. She'd prefer to handle the case on her own."

  "As would you," Hank said with a knowing smile.

  "That's true, but I recognize the value of our departments working together."

  "Good. Emma is a smart woman, and she doesn't quit. I've known her father, Jack, for years, and even though she's not his kid by blood, she has a lot of his intensity and competitiveness."

  "I've noticed," he said dryly.

  Hank grinned. "She's gotten under your skin."

  "I think she gets under everyone's skin. Emma likes to be in the middle of everything, but I can handle her."

  "Can you?"

  "Yes, I can. You don't need to worry. I've got everything under control. Is that it?"

  "Not so fast. Before you go, tell me what's happening with Spencer."

  Max was relieved to have the conversation redirected toward his brother. He didn't want to discuss Emma with Hank.

  "When Spencer first got out, he was really angry, but we've had a few conversations, and he's mellowed a bit. He still has a lot of bitter resentment festering inside. I hope he can find a way to let it go. On the positive side, he got a part-time job at the Second Street Deli, so he has something to do during the day besides think about his screwed-up life."

  "That's great. I know Gus. He'll be good for Spencer. He'll be able to show him that he can turn his life around."

  "I hope so."

  "And how is your mom?"

  "She's over the moon that Spencer's home, but it's not quite the happy reunion she pictured. She wants to hover and take care of him, and he doesn't want that at all."

  "It's good you're here. I know you never saw yourself as an important member of the family, but Spencer and Susan are too much alike. They make each other crazy. You're the buffer."

  "I don't know about that, but I'm glad I took up your suggestion and came home. My mother has no idea that you were the one who influenced my decision. She might like you better if she did."

  Hank laughed. "I always knew why Susan didn't like me. She was jealous. She hated that you wanted to be at our house instead of hers."

  "Only when she noticed I wasn't at home, which wasn't all that often," he said dryly. "Her life was really all about Spencer after my dad left."

  "I'm sure she noticed more than you realized. Being a parent, I know how difficult it is to make everyone feel like they're loved in exactly the same amount. Speaking of that, Tommy is coming home for Christmas. I get to see my grandson for the first time."

  "It's hard to believe that Tom is a husband and a father."

  "That tends to happen to all of us at some point."

  "Maybe not all of us," he put in.

  Hank gave him a knowing look. "That's what I used to say, until I met Vicky. Before her I was all about being a single guy. Couldn't imagine why I'd want to settle down with one woman when I could meet someone new every other weekend. Then Vicky came along, and boy did she see right through all my bullshit. I was done. I wanted her more than I wanted to be single, and it was the best decision I ever made. Look what I got out of it—a gorgeous wife, and three fantastic kids." He paused. "I'm glad you came home, Max. I know in your mind that this is only a temporary move. But I hope you'll consider making it permanent. Everyone here is impressed with your work. You're an excellent addition to the department."

  "Thanks. I don't know what my plans are yet. I thought I was done with this city, and to be honest I thought I was done with my family. We'll see how things go."

  "Just promise me you'll think about staying."

  "Right now I'm thinking mostly about solving a murder."

  * * *

  Later that day, Max wasn't thinking about murder, but about making a three-point shot from the outside corner. After a long day of work, he'd joined his fellow cops for a Wednesday night basketball game against one of the firefighting teams that included two of Emma's brothers, Burke and Aiden. He hadn't met Aiden before, but Aiden turned out to be just as good an athlete as Burke. He didn't play with as much finesse, but he had a great drive down the court and Max had been pressed to keep up with him.

  One thing both Burke and Aiden had in common was a desire to win. Apparently Emma wasn't the only Callaway with a competitive spirit.

  As Emma's face flashed through his brain, he stumbled and his opponent stole the ball from him. Damn!

  Bad time to think about Emma.

  He ran down the court again, hoping to rebound after his mistake. He was usually good at compartmentalizing his life. He'd learned to do that early in life, keep the emotions away from work. But lately everything and everyone in his life seemed to be mixing together bringing chaos, and he didn't like chaos. He liked organization and control.

  He grabbed the ball back and headed down the court again. He faked a pass, and then drove toward the basket. The ball hit the backboard and swooshed through the net. One of his fellow cops gave him a high five. He ran back down on the court. He had his game face back on. Nothing but basketball, he told himself.

  Then she walked through the door of the gym.

  What the hell was Emma doing here?

  He tried not to look at her, but out of the corner of his eye, he could see her stepping on to the bleachers. She greeted a couple of women and then moved down the bench to give another woman a hug. Of course, she'd know everyone in the stands. She knew everyone in this town. And everywhere he went, she seemed to turn up.

  He blew out a breath and ran down the court again. He received a pass and poised to throw. Then he heard Emma's laugh, and his shot went wide. His teammate sent him a surprised look. There was nothing he could say to apologize for how badly he was suddenly playing. Fortunately, it was the fourth quarter. He needed to keep it together for ten more minutes.

  * * *

  "I didn't expect to see you here, Sara," Emma said. Then she glanced at the court and realized Aiden was playing on the fire team.

  "Burke recruited Aiden," Sara said.

  "That's interesting." Her brothers were suddenly getting along better than they ever had, or else Burke had been desperate for a player and hadn't wanted to forfeit.

  "Aiden was surprised to be asked," Sara said. "He didn't say so, but I think he was touched that Burke asked him to play. They haven't been close in a very long time, but that seems to be changing."

  "I hope so. The two of them have had some legendary fights."

  "What are you doing here, Emma, or do I even need to ask?" Sara tipped her head toward the court. "Isn't that the hot cop?"

  Emma watched Max sprint across the court, dribbling the ball around his opponents, then making a quick fake to the right followed by a drive to the left. His shot swooshed through the net. "That's him," she said, mesmerized by his athleticism.

  It was silly. She felt like a teenager wanting the high school star athlete to look over and notice her. Max didn't look in her direction at all. He was completely focused on the game.

  She'd seen that intent look on his face before, and she idly wondered what it would feel like to have him gaze at her with that same level of intensity. Just the idea made her more than a little uncomfortable, reminding her again of the conversation with her mom when she had said—I knew he could take over my world if I let him…

  Emma wasn't interested in letting Max take over any part of her world. Well, maybe one part, she secretly admitted. She wouldn't mind letting him take her to bed. She had a feeling the earth would move mor
e than a few times.

  That thought brought with it a wave of heat. "It's hot in here." She ran her hand through her hair, lifting the sweaty strands off the back of her neck.

  "It is," Sara muttered, waving a hand in front of her face.

  Emma laughed as Sara's fascinated gaze followed Aiden up and down the court. "Well, aren't we fifteen again?"

  Sara sent her a startled look. "What?"

  "We used to lust after the basketball players in high school, remember?"

  "The only one I ever lusted after was Aiden," Sara said.

  "I love you like a sister, but I really can't hear any more about your lust for my brother."

  Sara laughed. "Fine. Let's talk about you then. What are you going to do about him?"

  "I don't know. He does get to me," she said quietly, not wanting anyone else to hear, but she and Sara were separated from the other women by several feet. "We've been trying to keep things professional, but every time we see each other there's a tension between us."

  "Maybe you should stop fighting your feelings and just enjoy," Sara suggested.

  "I'm tempted," she admitted. If Max could rock her world with a look, what could he do with the rest of his body? "But it's complicated."

  "Which is exactly the way you like it. You always push the envelope, test the boundaries, so why are you holding back with Max?"

  It was a good question, and one she couldn't really answer.

  "Are you afraid of getting hurt?" Sara asked. "Because aren't you the girl who always told me no pain, no gain?"

  "That was when I wanted you to run another mile with me."

  "Okay, bad example. But you've always been about risk. You run into burning buildings. You challenge yourself every day. I've always admired that about you, Emma."

  "This is different. When I run into a burning building, I know what to do. I've been trained."

  "That's true. There's no training for love."

  "We're not talking about love—just lust. I don't know. Let's not talk about it anymore. Tell me what's new with you?"

  "Not much. Dad is coming home on Monday. Kitchen remodel is moving along."

  "And you and Aiden?"

  "Having a really good time," Sara said with a wide smile. "We're going to the wine country this weekend."

 

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