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Hard Hart: The Harty Boys, Book 1

Page 23

by Cox, Whitley


  Bed rest sucked.

  And bed rest in a house with Brock Hart sucked even more.

  He didn’t let her do a damn thing.

  Never one to sit idle and do nothing, Krista was ready to pull her hair out and knit it into a shawl just for something to do.

  “I keep telling you, first-hand testimonials are going to be our best route,” she said, grinding her teeth together and giving three big, muscly Hart men her best stare-down. They were in her bedroom, standing at the foot of her bed for a much-needed meeting of the minds. “I need to sit down with Wendy and Marlise, get their statements and maybe see if I can talk to some of the other female officers and civilian workers. I’m sure he’s put the moves on more than just the three of us and Ingrid.”

  Brock shook his head.

  Krista narrowed her eyes at him. “You’re not the boss of me, you know.”

  Rex made a pained face, while Chase just averted his eyes.

  “I’m not, but when it comes to your safety, I’m not taking any chances. I’m running this op, and I say you take early medical leave and get out of that place until we can dig up enough evidence on Slade to put him away for good.” He crossed his arms in front of his big powerful chest for good measure and stared down at her sitting up in their bed. She didn’t flinch.

  “Monday,” she whispered, her eyes not leaving his. “It’s Thursday now. I’ll be back to work on Monday.”

  The man growled.

  The man growled a lot.

  But he didn’t scare her, so instead she just rolled her eyes. “I’m compromising here, Hart. I have a job to do, and I intend to do it until this baby pops out. I’ll stay away from Slade and only talk to Wendy and Marlise, but you’re not running squat. I’m the only police officer in this room. The rest of you are behaving like vigilantes who are above the law, hacking into the RCMP database and whatnot.” She leveled her gaze at Chase and gave him her best glare. The man didn’t so much as blink. “Knock it off.”

  Was that an eyebrow twitch?

  Was he even breathing?

  Brock let out an exasperated sigh. “We’ll discuss Monday on Sunday night, but for now, you and the baby need rest.”

  Now it was her turn to growl.

  Rex’s face split into a grin so big, both dimples winked at her. “I really like her.”

  “Out!” Brock barked.

  His brothers both spun on their heels like good naval officers, and with straight backs and heads facing forward, they practically marched out of the bedroom.

  Brock met her gaze again. She met his just as intensely. But suddenly his softened.

  “I only want what is best for you and our baby,” he said, his tone nowhere near as harsh as a moment ago. Two long-legged strides and he was at her bedside, sitting on the edge. His big, sexy palm landed on her belly.

  She linked her hands with his. “I know. But what is best for me is being productive and getting back to work. I’m going stir-crazy being cooped up here.”

  He nodded. “Okay, but I need you to quit your investigative work. Leave that to Rex and Chase.”

  “Wendy and Marlise aren’t going to give them their statements. That shit is personal. Besides, Wendy’s roommate, Stella, is a lawyer and has agreed to represent us. We’re going to meet with her soon and find out what we have to do. Whether she wants us to go to HR as a united front, wait for her to build the case or what.”

  “It’ll come out in court eventually if they testify against him,” Brock said.

  She shook her head. “Doesn’t matter. I want to be the one to talk to them. They need a friend, a woman there, when they discuss what happened to them. Not a big mountain of muscle with a voice recorder and a scowl on his face.”

  “I wouldn’t have Chase do it.”

  She snorted. Yeah, Chase, the man who she wasn’t sure even knew how to smile. “Either way, it has to be me … or at the very least Stella. But I want to be there for my friends.”

  His gorgeous green eyes sparkled. “You’re a stubborn little thing, you know?”

  She grinned back at him and squeezed his fingers atop her belly. “Would you like me any other way?”

  This time his growl spoke of promise and sent a pleasant ache to settle right between her legs. “No, I really wouldn’t.”

  * * *

  It wasn’t until the following Friday that Krista felt well enough to not hide her face in a vacant office or in her cubicle whenever possible. She turned down the option to do booking and processing and instead hid her purple and blue face in the evidence lockup or in front of a computer screen.

  Obviously, people at work had been curious. How could they not be? A fellow officer walking into work looking like she’d seen the end of somebody’s fist multiple times over definitely draws attention, and not the good kind. Mallory had even pulled her aside and asked if things at home were okay. Krista had almost burst out laughing and nearly said that the only marks Brock ever left were on her ass or her shoulder, and she’d never complain about those in a million years. Instead she’d just been honest and said she was in a car accident and the airbag had deployed.

  Slade was conveniently absent for the entire week, which made confronting him about Brock’s theory a moot point. Not that Brock would be pleased at all if she did such a thing. But it did make interviewing Wendy and Marlise easier. She sat down with each of them separately to get their testimonials, taking advantage of the vacant interrogation rooms and voice recorders on site. Neither woman had been in a good head space afterward and promptly headed home, so it wasn’t until Friday that the three of them had an opportunity to get together and discuss things and plan their next move on Slade.

  Wendy and Marlise had returned to the station to grab Krista and the three of them were going to wander down the road to the bakery for lunch when they ran into Allie. She was just exiting the woman’s locker room, and her face was as white as a sheet.

  “Hey,” Marlise chimed. “You okay?”

  Allie swallowed and stiffly shook her head, her chestnut hair swishing off her face and revealing red-rimmed eyes.

  Worry gripped Krista. She looped her arm around Allie’s shoulder, and she and the other two women led her outside the back of the building and into the parking lot.

  It was threatening more snow, but so far nothing besides bulbous dark clouds hung in the sky, along with a chilly wind that threatened to freeze off their fingertips.

  Nobody said anything. It was too cold, and they all knew that whatever had a strong woman like Allie looking like a complete mess had to be important. They grabbed a booth at the back of the bakery-café and peeled off their jackets.

  “Soup and sandwich combos all around?” Wendy asked, locking eyes with Krista.

  Both Krista and Marlise nodded. All Allie could do was shrug.

  Wendy disappeared to place their order at the counter while Krista and Marlise watched Allie, hoping that what had her so upset had nothing to do with Myles. God, not another one. Please not another one.

  Wendy returned a few minutes later with four mugs of coffee on a tray and a number for their table. She grabbed a seat next to Marlise, then all three of them sat there and stared at Allie.

  “Go on,” Krista finally said, wrapping her arm back around her friend’s shoulder. “What happened?”

  Allie swallowed, her throat bobbing hard as she fought to suppress her emotions. But her eyes gave away her pain as they welled up with tears, and her body began to shake.

  Krista gripped her tighter. “It’s okay. You’re safe. You’re among friends. You can tell us.”

  Allie nodded. “I’m, uh … I’m pregnant.”

  Wendy, Marlise and Krista all locked eyes across the table. You could practically smell the fear, it was so dense at their little table.

  “Okay,” Krista said slowly. “Weren’t you and Violet planning on having a baby? Isn’t this good news?”

  Allie and Violet had confided at the Christmas party that they were indeed trying to
start a family. They had chosen to go the anonymous donor route, as neither of them knew any men they were interested in asking for some swimmers. Nobody knew when they were going to start the procedure, though. They’d remained vague on that.

  Allie looked up from where she’d been staring at the table, tears dripping down her blotchy cheeks and on to her pale blue sweater. “We were,” she said softly, her voice a strangled whisper. “And this would be cause for celebration if … ” Her words got hung up in her throat as more tears fell and her body trembled even harder.

  “If … ?” Krista probed, hoping to God that what she thought wasn’t going to be Allie’s answer.

  “If … ” Allie’s lip wobbled. “If Myles hadn’t raped me in the station gym three days after I’d been inseminated at the fertility clinic.”

  Gasps echoed around their small table as Allie’s face fell into her hands and she sobbed.

  Holy. Fuck.

  Myles had raped Allie, too. Oh, God, and now she didn’t know if the baby she was carrying was his or her donor’s.

  Both Wendy and Marlise looked how Krista felt— gutted. Totally and completely gutted. Muscles began to tick at the corner of Marlise’s jaw, while Wendy’s nostrils flared as she struggled to keep it together.

  Rage was quickly replacing disbelief in all of them.

  Because they could believe it.

  This was Myles Slade they were talking about. The man had no soul. There was no line he would not cross to get what he wanted.

  “You didn’t take a morning-after pill,” Wendy asked slowly. “Because that’s what I did after … ” she trailed off.

  “Me, too,” Marlise whispered.

  Allie shook her head, slowly lifting it. “I didn’t want to risk terminating the donor baby. We’ve been trying for a family for so long.”

  How soon could they have the DNA test done? Krista wasn’t a biology wiz, so she had no clue. Maybe Brock would know. Would they have to wait until the baby was born to do the test? And then what? If it was Myles’s child, then what?

  Krista felt like she was going to be sick.

  “I think I’m going to be sick,” Allie murmured, covering her mouth with her hand and motioning for Krista to get up out of the booth pronto.

  Krista did just that, and they all watched as Allie fled through the door marked “Ladies” as if she were being chased.

  “Poor Allie,” Wendy whispered, her hazel eyes a mix of sympathy and anger.

  “We should have done something sooner,” Marlise whispered. “I’m sorry, Allie.”

  Krista’s gut churned. “Me too.”

  Wendy nodded. “Me too.”

  “We’ll get him,” Krista replied. “We have to. We can’t let him get away with it or do this to another officer.”

  “Another woman,” Marlise corrected. “Who knows if he’s done this to civilians, too? He was gearing up to get with Ingrid at the Christmas party.” Venom dripped from Marlise’s tone, and fury radiated off the tiny Asian woman in pulsing waves. She wasn’t a big person, but Marlise was all muscle and as tough as they came. Krista had witnessed firsthand just how tough her friend was as she watched Marlise take down officers twice her size during combat drills. She was also just as good at target practice, often tying with Krista when they’d go to the shooting range.

  “Guys,” Wendy murmured, her hazel eyes fixed on something outside, “I think we’re being watched. Does Myles drive something besides his blue Blazer?”

  Krista’s eyes followed where Wendy was looking, and she immediately rolled them. She recognized that big, black, beefy truck. Hell, she was driving one of those big, black, beefy trucks herself right now. It was one of the Hart boys. Their beacon. A vehicle in their fleet.

  “It’s Rex … or Chase. Probably Rex though,” she said dryly. “Brock is having his brothers follow me to make sure I stay safe.”

  “That’s sweet … in a violating-your-privacy kind of way,” Wendy said with a chuckle. “I mean, you are a cop. You can take care of yourself.”

  “Yes,” Krista agreed, “but I’m also in a delicate state, and the man takes zero risks when it comes to this baby.”

  Marlise’s dark brown eyes softened. “I think it’s nice. And hopefully you won’t need a detail for long. We need to put our heads together and come up with a plan to take down Myles.”

  The door to the women’s room opened, and out came a pale-faced Allie, looking much worse for wear than when she’d left. Krista pushed in closer to the window so Allie had an easy escape if she needed to flee again.

  “How about Wendy and I work on figuring out what Myles has on the staff sergeant?” Marlise offered. “Krista, you and your man and his brothers work on Myles’s background some more, keep digging. Now that you have our statements, we can get to other females in the precinct and see if they have anything to add. We need to go en masse to HR. The more women the better. And Wendy’s roommate has agreed to represent us.”

  Wendy nodded. “Stella is a shark in the courtroom.”

  Krista fixed Allie with a look. “It’s going to be difficult, but are you prepared to give a statement about the rape?”

  Allie looked like she was going to be sick again. But she swallowed, put her fist to her mouth and nodded. “Anything to make him pay.”

  They all locked eyes around the table, fire and fury igniting inside them.

  Senior Constable Slade was going to pay dearly.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Back at work after lunch, Krista’s mind raced.

  A fucking serial rapist was on the loose.

  And he was a cop.

  A serial rapist cop.

  Something had to be done. Myles couldn’t be allowed to hurt anyone else.

  Tears welled up in Krista’s eyes as she stared at the contact list of her phone. She needed to talk to Brock. Not only because she wanted to fill him in on what she and the other women had talked about, but also because she just needed to hear his voice.

  She got up from her desk and wandered to Mallory’s empty office. Mallory was away for the afternoon, and Krista wanted more privacy than her cubicle allowed.

  “Hey,” Brock answered. “I was just about to call you.”

  Krista hiccupped as more tears filled her eyes.

  “What’s wrong?” Brock asked, his tone laden with fear. “Is it the baby? Is it Slade? What’s wrong?”

  She shook her head and swallowed hard. “No. The baby’s fine. I’m fine … I just needed to talk to you.”

  There was silence on the other end for a moment. “You want me to come to you?” he finally asked.

  “No. I’m okay. I just had lunch with the girls, and Allie gave us some pretty terrible news.” She proceeded to fill Brock in on what Allie had told them.

  By the time she was finished, her eyes burned and her cheeks were wet.

  “That motherfucker.” Brock growled. “Doesn’t deserve to live.”

  “We’re going to get him,” Krista said though sniffles. “We can’t let him get away with this.”

  “We will, baby, we will,” he said. “You’re okay, though?”

  Her heart ached just a little less at how concerned he was for her. He really was trying. He really did care.

  He was quiet for a moment again, but she took the opportunity to dab at her eyes with a tissue and collect herself. She had to walk past half a dozen desks to her own, and red-rimmed eyes would certainly draw attention. “The timing kind of sucks,” he finally said, “but I was actually just going to call you.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah, what are your plans tonight?”

  “No plans. Why?”

  “I was wondering if you might want to go out on a date … with me?”

  “You, uh … you want to go out on a date?”

  She could practically see his shoulders shrug over the phone, black leather moving just a fraction of an inch as one lone eyebrow quirked up. “Yeah. I mean we told our families that we’re dating, but we’ve never
been on a date.”

  “Oh!” Where was this sudden bit of romance coming from? Had his mother intervened? It seemed like something Joy would berate him about.

  “So, dinner and a movie?”

  Krista caught herself smiling in the window reflection. “Yeah, that sounds great.”

  “I’ll pick you up at seven.”

  Before she could make some corny joke about the fact that they lived together and would be getting ready to go out together, he said a quick goodbye and hung up.

  Well, that was strangely wonderful.

  * * *

  For the rest of the day, despite her heartbreaking lunch with the girls, Krista was happy. She was going on a date with Brock Hart. Brock Lionel Hart had asked to her go out with him. And then the gooey, mushy girl in her really kicked in, and she envisioned the two of them sitting in the movie theater, his arm casually draped around hers as she snuggled under his big leather jacket, because theaters are notoriously cold. She would have stupidly left her coat in his truck. And then they’d share a goodnight kiss on the front porch and talk about wanting to see each other again, only to then both go into the house, take off their coats and shoes, brush their teeth and hump like bunnies. Of course.

  She thought for sure he’d be home when she got home just after six o’clock, but he wasn’t. Figuring that dinner and a movie was a casual date, and that ninety percent of her dress clothes no longer fit, she went with dark wash skinny jeans, only she didn’t do up the button and wore one of those belly band things instead and a black cashmere long-sleeve sweater.

  She was just adding a touch of lip gloss in the hallway mirror when the doorbell chimed. And there he stood. With a beautiful bouquet of flowers, a box of chocolates and a nervous smile. Looking drop-dead freaking gorgeous in dark jeans, a gray sweater with a white collared shirt poking out the top, and of course, his customary leather jacket.

  “Hey.”

  Krista mentally told the butterflies in her belly to calm down and then took a deep breath. “Hi.”

 

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