“Would having street smarts have saved me that night at the airport?” she asked quietly.
Dylan lay back with his hands laced behind his head, his ankles crossed. “You would have had a better chance. If you had remained aware of everything going on around you and realized in that split second that someone was coming up behind you you could have thrown your briefcase at him while screaming your lungs out. You could have activated your car alarm. Anything to get attention.”
“Teach me, Dylan,” she murmured. “Teach me not to be afraid. Teach me to be brave.”
He drew her into his arms, turned her over so that she lay with her back against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her in a protective womb. “You are a very brave woman. After all, you put up with me,” he teased. He used a free hand to reach behind him and switch off the lamp, throwing the room back into darkness. Alex placed her hands over his.
“This is nice,” she murmured. “I don’t remember that we cuddled much before.”
He nuzzled her ear. “Yours won’t end up an unsolved case, Al. Every crook does something stupid.”
With the events of the day bearing down on her, the late hour and the warmth of Dylan’s body against her back, Alex felt her muscles start to relax. She closed her eyes and started to feel herself slip off to sleep. “Thank you,” she whispered.
She could sense his smile against her hair. “Anytime.”
Only that one night when Dylan held her did Alex sleep without bad dreams ruining her slumber. She knew tonight she would have that same restful sleep.
She was safe.
“Batman.” The drowsy voice finally filtered through his sleep-fogged brain. He tightened his hold on heaven.
“Sorry, honey, I left the cape at home,” he muttered, nuzzling her neck, then kissing the tender spot behind her ear, which he knew made her more than a little crazy. He decided he liked crazy Alex the best. You never knew what to expect. He winced when a flailing hand hit his shoulder.
“No, Batman! Your phone is ringing,” Alex told him, referring to the TV theme song coming from his cell phone.
Groaning with disappointment that there would be no morning loving, Dylan climbed out of bed and stumbled into the living room, where he knew his phone was resting on the coffee table. He picked it up and flipped it open.
“Parker.” He screwed his eyes shut as he listened to the caller. “When?” he asked tersely. “Okay, thanks.” Keeping his phone in his hand, he walked slowly back into the bedroom.
Alex was lying on her back, stretching her arms over her head in a lazy manner. She had deliberately draped the sheet to hide strategic areas that ordinarily Dylan would have been tempted to uncover. Her sultry smile faltered when she saw his somber expression. “Something happened.” She sat up, not caring the sheet fell to her waist. She looked as alert as she would if she had drunk a few cups of strong coffee. “Dylan, tell me!”
He sat down next to her hip. He studied her face, seeing the alarm written there and more than a hint of fear. He knew she didn’t want to hear what he was about to say. Hell, he didn’t want to say it, but he knew he had to tell her before she read it in the newspaper. He felt her tension when he picked up her hands.
“Mrs. Bridger died last night,” he said quietly.
A soft, keening cry left Alex’s lips. “No.” She breathed in deeply through her nose. She tried to wrench her hands from his grip, but he tightened his grasp.
“Alex,” he said softly but firmly. “She had a weak heart. The breakin brought on two heart attacks. The surgery was successful, but it still didn’t prevent the second and fatal attack. In the end, all they could do was make her comfortable.”
“But she shouldn’t have died, Dylan,” she appealed to him. “It’s my fault she was so badly frightened.”
“No, it isn’t!” He released her hands and gripped her shoulders, shaking her gently. “Alex, look at me!” He waited until she stared him in the eye. “Those men broke into her condo and frightened her so badly she was taken to the hospital. Those men were the ones who caused it, not you.”
“But they thought they were in my condo,” she argued. “If they hadn’t been looking for me, they wouldn’t have found her.”
“You didn’t force them to go after you, Alex. They did this all on their own and now they’ll be charged with her death,” he continued in a low, forceful voice.
Alex kept shaking her head, refusing to listen to any more. In the end, Dylan gathered her up in his arms and let her cry.
“It’s all my fault!” Alex cried.
Dylan knew she didn’t care what he was saying to her. She was past comforting. He listened to her mutter her feelings of guilt that a woman had died because of her.
He whispered in her ear. He said things that made no sense but were meant to soothe her.
When her tears started to lessen, he got up and went into the bathroom to return with a tissue. She blew her nose, sniffed a few times and shored up her defenses.
“They can’t get away with it.” She raised her chin, ready to do battle.
Dylan hugged her. “That’s my Alex.”
She looked up at him. “Detective Whitmire can’t blow me off any longer. The stakes have been raised.”
“He’s the one who called me with the news,” he told her. “I’d say he knows he can’t put your case aside now.”
“I said I didn’t want any more adventure and I don’t,” Alex murmured. Her voice hardened. “But I do want revenge. I want to see them punished for what they did.” She sighed. “I’ll be honest, Dylan. I don’t know how much more I can take.” As if fate heard her, her telephone rang. She nodded when Dylan looked at her and picked up the cordless unit.
“Hello?” His expression darkened. “You’re kidding me. Have you called the police yet?” Alex grabbed his arm. He made a gesture indicating he’d tell her in a minute. “Call them now. Tell them Detective Alan Whitmire needs to be notified. We’ll be right over.”
“Now what?” She felt like wailing.
Dylan swore long and hard under his breath. “Seems your office was broken into last night. Barney, the security guard, was knocked unconscious.”
“Knocking people out seems to be turning into an epidemic.” Alex fought to get out of her sheet and ran for the bathroom. “Give me ten minutes.”
“You’ve got five,” he called after her, already heading for his duffel bag.
All thoughts of a leisurely breakfast in bed were gone.
Twenty minutes later a stunned Alex stood in the hallway of her office staring past crime-scene technicians dusting fingerprint powder on the furniture and marking areas.
“Since everything is password-protected and encrypted, they couldn’t copy any of the files,” Greg told Dylan. “We found CDs scattered all over her desk. Either they didn’t know what file they were looking for…”
“Or they were looking for a specific CD,” Dylan replied, finishing the sentence for him. He looked at Janet, who appeared as stunned as Alex. “Do you think anything was taken?”
She shook her head. “I didn’t go in once I saw the office. I went back to my desk and called you then called the police.”
Alex moved closer to Dylan. “First Mrs. Bridger, now this,” she murmured. “I’m not even going to jinx myself by saying nothing else can happen.” She looked past Dylan. “Well, Detective Whitmire, my case seems to have taken some interesting turns.” Her words had an acidic bite to them.
The taciturn man had the grace to flush as he understood her unspoken words that the breakin was connected to everything else that had happened to her. “We will do what is necessary to find who was behind this breakin.”
“Was anyone else’s office broken into?” she asked.
“No, ma’am” he was forced to admit.
Alex borrowed a page from her boss’s book and leaned into the detective’s personal space. “Then I suggest you do something about this ASAP.” She bit off each word. “Get those guys. Soon
.”
Detective Whitmire took a deep breath, as if he knew he’d just dodged a bullet. He looked at Dylan. “Better you than me, Parker,” he said.
Dylan was busy admiring Alex’s show of temper. “That’s the way I see it, too.”
“Then do us all a favor and get her out of here before she starts taking body parts.” He moved off.
Dylan nodded and went in search of Alex. He found her in the coffee room, sitting at a table he could easily visualize in someone’s dining room. A coffee cup sat in front of her. She waved her hand toward the coffeemaker and trays filled with pastries.
“Help yourself,” she invited.
Once he filled a cup and chose a cherry Danish, he took the chair next to hers.
“I don’t know how much more I can take, Dylan,” she said in a low voice, staring into her cup. When she raised her face, her features were drawn and haunted. “What if they choose to go after someone else? I’m sorry Barney was injured and grateful it was nothing more than a bump on the head, but it could have been much worse. What if someone had come in early and found them here? They could have been seriously hurt or worse.”
“It doesn’t make sense, Alex. Whoever did this knows what they’re doing because they’ve made sure to wipe down everything. We’ll get a hit. Besides, I can’t see them being smart enough to fly under the radar for too long.”
She absently chewed on a fingernail. “You once said you didn’t think they were pros because they were messy during their search.”
Dylan nodded. “Usually when a place is tossed that badly it’s either someone very angry or who has personal issues with the owner. The same with your office. A pro can search a place and not leave any hint it was even touched.”
Alex’s lips moved in thought. “We need to go through my things again. You said it before, and for some reason we didn’t follow up. I need to look at the CDs.” She stopped.
“You already said that.” He noted the look on her face.
“They’re looking for a CD!” She almost bounced in her chair with excitement.
“You went through yours after we searched your briefcase,” he reminded her.
She shook her head. Her hands moved at lightning speed to emphasize her words. “But we didn’t know exactly what we were looking for then, so I might not have been as thorough as I should have been. I was having these stabbing pains off and on, but I thought they were just a result of the head injury. One of the words that triggers pain is CD. What if there’s a connection between the pain and the word? Think about it, Dylan. It really does make sense.” She stood up. “I have to go through them again.”
Dylan looked sadly at his untouched cherry Danish, took a big bite, a swig of coffee and followed her out of the room.
“She keeps this up, she’ll be ready for the police academy any day now.”
Dylan insisted they eat first and whipped up scrambled eggs and toast while Alex brought her notebook computer into the kitchen along with the CDs from her briefcase. She chose one of the CDs and popped it into her computer.
“It’s my schedule from my trip to San Francisco,” she explained.
“I thought that’s what your PDA was for.” Dylan poured two fresh cups of coffee and set one cup near her elbow before he sat down across from her.
She wrinkled her nose. “I like having a backup and its easier than carrying around a written calendar.”
“Control issues again,” he murmured.
Alex frowned as she stared at the names, dates and times. This time when the stabbing pain hit her head, she welcomed it. She didn’t know whether to give in to her temper or cry.
“There’s something here,” she whispered. She quickly held up a hand. “I don’t think it’s what they were looking for, but I think you’re right. It has to do with one of my clients.”
Dylan started to get out of his chair, then sat back down again. “Any idea which one?”
She returned to perusing the monitor. “No idea. I feel it when I look at a cluster of five names.”
“Give me the names so we can see what we can find,” he said.
She shook her head. “I need to do this myself, Dylan.” She sensed his withdrawal the moment she said the words. “We’re still talking clients here. The names wouldn’t mean a thing to you.”
“I could run them and see if anything shows up,” he offered. “You were the victim here, Alex.”
“A victim wouldn’t be considered a reliable witness. Any good defense attorney would rightfully attack my spotty memory,” she argued. “I mean it, Dylan. I have to do this myself.”
His jaw worked furiously. “I know you have to work with that damned attorney-client privilege, but I’m a cop, Alex. I have this funny quirk. I like to catch the bad guys.”
She refused to back down. “Then let me do this my way.”
Dylan shook his head. “I guess I was right. Some things never change. You do what you have to do and I’ll do what I have to do. It’s always a choice with you, Alex.” He picked up his coffee cup and walked out to the balcony.
Alex felt the pain streak through her head. You have to make a choice.
She looked at the calendar again, then shut down her computer. She picked up her cup and followed him out to the balcony. Dylan sat in one of the chairs with his feet propped up on the railing. The expression of pained resignation on his face tore at her heart. She walked over to stand in front of him and leaned against the railing. It hurt that he didn’t bother to acknowledge her.
“I don’t want to fight with you, Dylan,” she said softly.
“We’re not fighting.” He was the picture of no emotion and still not looking at her. “I got past that more than two years ago. You made your choice then and it appears you’re doing it again.”
“I’m not making a choice!” She stopped and took a few deep breaths. “I just want this over.”
“So do I.”
This time the stab of pain was in the vicinity of her heart. She didn’t try to touch him for fear of being rejected.
“This goes back to before, doesn’t it? I don’t want that,” she pleaded. “I guess I wanted to show you that even now I can take care of myself.”
“I already knew that, Alex.” Sorrow darkened his eyes. “But you’ve had a lot dumped on you today and this is escalating.”
She nodded. “I admit that scares me, Dylan, but what might or might not happen to us scares me, too.”
“I guess that depends on you, doesn’t it?”
Alex didn’t feel cheered by his words, because she heard a sense of doubt in them. She walked over to the other chair and pulled it around so she could face him.
“I’m not going to walk away this time. I’m going to do what I didn’t do last time. I’m fighting for what I want.”
Dylan’s smile wasn’t the warm, open one she craved—but it was a smile.
“It’s all about choices, Alex.”
“This time, I intend to make the right one.”
Chapter 11
He’s just angry because I chose my career over him.
Alex’s eyes popped open as if the words had been shouted in her ear. She turned her head, but Dylan still slept on. No wonder. They had talked until the early hours of the morning, only stopping long enough for Chinese takeout, then Dylan made love to her as if it were the first time for both of them. She fell asleep with hope warm in her heart that they were well on their way to a whole new start.
She started to roll over to go back to sleep but realized that sleep wasn’t about to return. It was as if a voice inside her was telling her there was something she needed to do and she needed to do it now.
She held her breath as she carefully crept out of the bed. She paused when Dylan mumbled something in his sleep, then rolled over. A moment later he was snoring softly. She smiled at him as she quietly made her way out of the bedroom. As if guided by some unseen force, she headed for her office, making sure to close the door before turning on a lamp sitting o
n a bookcase by the door. This time she didn’t go to her desk, but to the credenza set behind it against the wall. She slid the door open and dug through a variety of legal pads and notebooks until she found what she was looking for. The manila envelope she pulled out not only held the copy of her divorce papers, but additional papers that she had ignored before and that she knew would hold the answers she had been putting off seeking answers for. She bypassed the desk chair and curled up on the floor, her back resting against the credenza, as she picked up the top page.
It was time for her to find out everything she hadn’t learned before.
Everything he’s done since the divorce has been done to exact a response from me. Now I feel ready to move past all this. I think once I make this one break, Dylan will be able to move on also. I still love the man, but I’ve done irreparable harm there. Something I’ll just have to live with.
“Alimony. One hundred dollars,” she murmured, then felt a stabbing pain along her healing wound that left her gasping. “Another question answered.”
Alex’s hands shook as she leaned forward and set the papers on the floor. A soft whimper left her lips as she clutched her stomach and rolled her body forward until her forehead almost touched the papers. She had no idea how long she sat there, drowning in an indescribable pain as the past washed over her.
No wonder Dylan had resisted her. She had pushed him away so violently it was amazing he had been willing to allow her back into his life. Even more amazing was that he was willing to make a fresh start with her.
Except she had loved him so much when they were first married, and look how she had changed. What if she reverted back to her workaholic self again? She knew she couldn’t put Dylan through that kind of hell again when it could so easily destroy them. If she thought it hurt earlier when all the painful memories returned, she knew it was nothing compared to the agony of giving up the best thing in her life.
She never knew the future could feel so empty.
Dylan liked waking up with Alex in his arms. Then he realized the only weight on him was warm, furry and purring.
He opened one eye and stared at Clarence, who was curled up on Alex’s pillow. He looked past the cat to find a somber Alex sitting in the chair by the window.
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